What if it comes down to Hillary vs McCain?

What would you do?

Please leave your answer in the comment section below!

The Longest Day

Well, I'm now two thousand, three hundred, and seventy nine hours and 49 minutes into the second longest day of my life. Aproximately five hundred and thirty seven hours remaining. This day is about 100 times longer than humans have evolved to endure.

Song of the Wanderer

A few days ago, I discovered that Ween was going to be playing in Wellington, New Zealand on the 26th of February. Ween is among the top bands that I'm itching to see for the first time. So the timing is fortuitous, considering I leave the ice on February 21, or some time thereabouts.

With this discovery came a rather dramatic realization: The Ween concert on the 26th of February in Wellington is the ONLY future plan that I have. I have no employment or career plans, I have no travel plans, I have no recreational plans, I have no future girlfriend plans. The only thing that pins any moment of my future to any particular place or activity, is the Ween concert (which, by the way, I haven't yet bought tickets for). I don't have any plane tickets or weddings to go to. Or even a dentist appointment. My future is a vast, white, mystery.

I suppose this shouldn't surprise me, but it does. I've always enjoyed wandering, I've always enjoyed not knowing, living in-between, I've always done it by the seat of my pants, on a whim. And I've always strove to find a way to live 'in the moment'.

Well, I suppose that's where I am. I have no possible future moments planned out, so I must be "in the moment".

Now that I'm here, it's a bit terrifying. I've worked to get here. I realize that this is a novel and privileged place to be. I'm proud to be here, where most everything is light and easy.

But the fact that I'm here is a sign I need to move on.

Maybe to India. Maybe not.


At about the same time as this realization, I came upon this poem:

"The Song of the Wanderer", from "The Unicorn Chronicles" by Bruce Coville

Across the gently rolling hills,
Beyond high mountain peaks,
Along the shores of distant seas,
There's something my heart seeks.

But there's no peace in wanderering,
The roads not made for rest.
And footsore fools will never know,
What home might suit them best.

But oh, the things that I have seen,
The secret paths I've trod,
The hidden corners of the world
Known to none, but me and God.

Yes, the world was meant for knowing,
And feet were meant to roam.
But one who's always going
Will never find a home.

Oh, where's the tread that binds me,
The voice that calls me back?
Where's the love that finds me-
And what's the root I lack?

My heart seeks the hearth,
My feet seek the road.
A soul so divided
Is a terrible load.

My heart longs to rest,
My feet yearn to roam.
Shall I wander the world
Or stay safe at home?

Whales!

With the coming of the Oden comes wildlife. The seals bath themselves in the sun along the shores of the channel. And Orcas and Minke Whales come into McMurdo Bay to exploit the virgin feeding grounds . . . Well, the feeding grounds aren't completely virgin: McMurdo Bay has suffered severe Mercury Pollution since the Navy set up camp in 1956.

Minke Whale in McMurdo Bay off Hut Point.

Vessel

Not much happens in McMurdo; everyday is pretty much the same. So we sustain ourselves on the rumor mill and boos, which kind of feed each other. Everyonce in a while, though, something actually happens. One of those happenings is the arrival of the vessels at the end of each summer season.



A couple weeks ago, the Sweedish icebreaker "Oden" began cutting a channel though the sea ice. The Oden operates by a system of ballast that accomodates 3650 square meters of sea water. The Oden powers its way on top of the ice, lubricated by a hull wash system that constantly propels water down its bow. As the ship crests on top of the ice, the 3650 square meters of water ballast shifts to the bow of the boat, and the ice beneath is crushed. According to its specs, the Oden can cut through 1.9 m level ice at 3 knots.
The Oden's system of icebreaking is slightly different from the icebreakers employed by the US Coast Guard: the Polar Sea and the Polar Star. These vessels operate more as battering rams through the ice, although, they as well can shift water ballast. Last year, the USAP employed both the Oden and the Polar Sea. It was found that the Oden was a more effective icebreaker (or possibly less expensive?) for our conditions, so this year the Oden is our sole icebreaker.




This is the Oden docked in McMurdo Bay.



After the Oden has cut a navigable channel through the semi-permanent sea ice (the last time the sea ice melted all the way to the permanant Ross Sea Ice Shelf was 1988), the resupply vessels are free (sort of) to dock at McMurdo. This includes the fuel tanker Lawrence H. Gianella and cargo vessel American Tern.

Below is sat photo of the Southeastern edge of the Ross Sea. The left side of the photo is the TransAntarctic Moutain Range. The bottom right is the Ross Sea Ice Shelf. And the the tiny bulb jutting out of the ice shelf is the northern Peninsula of Ross Island, which is now exposed to open water.

Below is a recent sat image of Ross Island. You can see that the northern shores of the island are now exposed to the Ross Sea. The Southern shores are, as always, encrusted in the permanent Ross Sea Ice Shelf. McMurdo Staion is located on the tip of the southern peninsula of Ross Island. The ice to the left of the Peninsula is semi-permanent sea ice. The ice to the right of the peninsula is the permanent ice shelf. In 1988, the sea ice melted and blew away, exposing McMurdo station to the Ross Sea. Every year since then, an icebreaker has been employed to cut a channel through the sea ice. The channel through the sea ice that leads to McMurdo is visible in the photo.

Below is a map tracking the progress of the icebreaker Oden, the American Tern, the Lawrence H. Gianelli, and the NSF research vessel Nathaniel B. Palmer. You may need to enlarge this one to figure it out.

The Gianella was scheduled to dock on Monday, January 21st. Unfortunately, the tanker has become encumbered in ice in the Ross Sea, and has not moved for several days. These are pictures from the standed Gianella.

The Oden is on its way to free the ship, and should meet the Gianella sometime today. If the Oden is able to escort the Gianella into McMurdo, then the fuel tanker would arrive sometime next week. That, however, is a big 'if'. Several years ago, the tanker was unable to navigate its way into McMurdo Bay, and the fuels operators in McMurdo were forced to run fuel lines for miles along the shore of Ross Island in order to reach the tanker. This is a Herculean task, and involves extending the summer season for certain departments. It's an unlikely scenario, but its also a reminder of how vulnerable we are to the whims of weather.



Due to the delay of the Gianella, the American Tern is also behind schedule. Cargo Vessel Offload is the busiest time of the year for most departments. When vessel arrives, the bars shut down, the store discontinues the sale of alcohol, most departments switch to a twelve hour workday, and the cargo department does not get a day off until the vessel is unloaded of its cargo and reloaded with garbage and retro (the term given to overstock or unneeded items on station). This is usually (I use this term lightly) a five day process. The American Tern was scheduled to arrive on the third of February, but we'll wait and see. I'll keep you posted!

Update . . .

Well,
thats it for pretty pictures folks . . . I've uploaded everything fresh I've got.
So now, you're going to have to entertain yourself with the disjointed, semi-literate word associations of an uncreative poet. My advice to you in weeding through this diatribe, use your imagination, be creative, maybe even stretch the pathetic truth.

So, where we at sucka's? Oh yeah, still in Antarctica. Reality check.

Um, I'll start out with some stats
- 172 pounds, dehydrated
- 4 batches of beer down, and
- 1 to go
- 5 weeks until I blow this popstand
- 2 indiscriminate firings this week (just when I thought old uncle Ray had gone soft on me)
- 5 days in quarantine for the flu, yuckity-poo
- 1, 2, or 3 family members visiting me in New Zealand, cross my fingers!

Yep, just got out of quarantine. Five days. thats like 150 hours in my room. thats like 150 hours on my bed, staring at the ceiling, reading Michael Pollan, Ken Kesey, and Al Gore. Alright, we get it Al, TV is poison! But, can't I have just a little while I'm sick? Thats when I'm most vulnerable, you say? Goddamnit, but how can I possibly survive an illness without TV? Its in my Gene's to survive an illness, thats why I'm still here, you say? Goddamnit Al, what is it with you. I'm tired of all your incessant reliance on reason and science, alright, it gets old and tiring and boring. Now a TV news segment, that never gets old or tiring or boring, I mean look at those flashing bombs and fire graphics and people yelling at me. I mean, if they're yelling, it must be important, right? Oh, thats the whole problem you say, its overactivating our nervous response system, screwing with our brains, turning our frontal lobes off. Ahh, now I see, Al. The problem is that you think with your frontal lobe too much Al. You should open yourself up to a larger diversity of your brain. For instance, I like to turn on fox news, and just let the amygdala, my fear center, run rampant for a while. A couple hours later, I come to, and I'm convinced that world is going to end, unless, of course, I vote for a neo-con. Wait, Al, where are you going? Think Amygdala, Al, amygdala!

I had a few feverish and delusional conversations with Al while I was couped up, they never seemed to end well.

But I'm free now, and sanity and socialabilty are both coming into focus, and my bed sores are clearin' right up. But man, quarantined in McMurdo - its no fun. All your meals have to be brought to you, people reel away from you when they realize you're sick, you have to wear a mask when you leave your room to pee, they paint a giant 'S' on your door in Scarlet Red Paint, your 5x5 square foot space gets smaller and smaller by the hour, your roommate moves into his girlfriend's room to avoid the plague . . . just to give you an idea.

But I'm free now, with only a trace of the nasty cough I endured for the last week.
The first of my close friends, Tia, is leaving on a jet plane tomorrow. Its goddamned sad, that I'm going to slowly lose my friends, my community over the coming weeks. I'm on the second to last flight, so I'll get to watch everyone leave. The first wave of nostalgia hits tonight, at her going away party . . . Goddamn.

Spirits are quite well, though. As always, things are lookin up. Maybe you don't know this about me (not to rub it in or anything), but everything always comes up aces for me. I learned the deck is stacked in my favor, so I'm putting all my money on the table, becasue I know that an ace is on top. I could ask for a reshuffle, ya know, to make the game fair, but I think that would make me a bolshevik or something, and I won't stand for that.

But really, bullshitting aside, I'm well. I've been really, really great for, like, six months now, except for that month when I was working nights and my roommate left, and I holed myself up in my room. I suppose its really easy to be well, when your life is a vacation and the deck is stacked in your favor!

Speaking of vacation, I've got one coming up . . . at least, a vacation away from my current vacation. Yep, I'm going to New Zealand! I got a line on another bike in Christchurch, so I might be doing some more biking. But I definitely want to do some serious trekking as well. Oh yeah, and I gotta talk to Steve Kafka, capain of the Evohe, I really want to get back on that boat! He's been playing around in the Antarctic waters again. Ya know, Steve is always on vacation, just like myself. We must have been dealt the same winning hand. Just like Bart says on Rock, Paper, Scissors: "Good old Rock, nothin' beats that!"
So, hopefully, more cycling and tramping in New Zealand, maybe an oceanic adventure to boot! And hopefully, a little traveling by car, as well, if my mom makes it down!

And then India, for a looooooooooooooong time, ya know, just to reshuffle a bit. Sorry mom, this might have to be the case. Its in my blood, so I guess I can kinda blame that on you, right?

Unconventional downloads

Normally, when an LC-130 or C-17 aircraft has cargo to download, we pick the cargo pallets off the planes with loaders.



Or, to expedite the process, we push a sled behind the plane, and the pallets are rolled off onto the sled





After the cargo is downloaded, we place on the bed a 'delta' truck, and drive it back into town.








And we do our jobs gladly, show or shine . . .



For any number of reasons, there are also a number of unconventional methods to downloading cargo.

Below, an L-C130 'Hercules' is doing a 'combat offload' or 'drifting' its cargo. With its props still running, the plane opens its hatch and simply dumps its cargo onto the apron.












In remote locations too distant to be supported by choppers or smaller airplanes, such as the Baslars or twin otters, an airdrop is an option . . .

Yummy

I nabbed these off our shared network drive - hotdog!

Hut Point

Mt. Discovery - an inactive volcano, part of the Antarctic Mountain Chain

Ice Runway with the Royal Society Mountain Range in the background. The Ice Runway, located directly in front of McMurdo on the annual ice shelf, serves as the sole airstrip for the first half of the Summer season. As the ice thins, the airstrip closes, and LC-130's (Hercs), Baslers, and the twin otters are diverted to Williams Field and C-17's land at Pegasus Airfeld, both located on the permanent Ross Ice Shelf. Currently, the icebreaker Oden is cutting a supply channel through the annual ice shelf in the exact same spot I landed three months ago.

LDB - Long Duration Ballon Project

Weather ballons are sent up everyday, all over the continent. Three times a year, however, the LDB project sends up a massive weather balloon to circle the continent.

Here's a link to an NSF factsheet on the LDB project in Antarctica: http://www.nsf.gov/news/news_summ.jsp?cntn_id=103063

If your ears aren't perked, just think, "Its like, science in space, man, but without astronauts!"

Kite-skiing

While I was down here last year, I met a legend named GA Joe that is big into kite-sporting. He took me out kite-skiing (Kite-dragging would be a more apt description) on the ice shelf a few times. Then, in the states, while I was cycling down the west coast, GA Joe was kind enough to show me the ropes of Kite-surfing. In no time, I was hooked . . .


Kite Sporting involves a big-ass kite (similar to what paragliders use, but smaller) that attches to a harness on your body. The strings of the kite attatch to a bar that you use to control the the direction of the kite and generate 'pull'.





So, this season, I bought a kite and had it shipped down here. All I can say, is that this is THE adventure sport - its like you're flying on the snow, or through the water - simply incredible.


Now, all I have to do, in is figure out how to control the direction in which I'm flying . . .

Finally . . .

Finally I've got some penguin photos for you . . .

Several weeks ago, I took a snowmobile trip out near the sea ice edge to help break down a field camp breaking down camp studying ice pressure and movement.

There was wasn't loads of work to do, so mostly we played with penguins!

When we first came upon them, they were about fifty yards out. We stopped our machines, and sat down. Like long lost freinds, they all came sprinting towards us.

"Sprinting" for a penguin involves awkwardly waddling toward you, flapping its wings in the air; after a minute - stopping, plopping down and resting, re-evaluating, waiting for stragglers, checking out what everyone else is doing, honking in each other's faces, and then continuing the surge.

After a few minutes, they come to a halt about ten feet from you, and just stare, "what in the hell . . . ". Twenty minutes later, they've become bored with you, and they either plop down for another rest, begin entertaining one another, or continue on down to road, in search of God knows what . . .

I have to say, penguin encounters are at the absolute top of my list of coolest things I've ever done. They're so playful, and animated, and apparently friendly, and entertaining - just incredible personality to these birds. Something about when an animal looks you in the eye . . .

Congrats on Iowa, Barack!

I'm ashamed to say . . . I have a man crush

Icestock

Annual New Year's Eve celebration: Icestock

The only music festival you'll go to when its snowing.

The stage is set up on the back of two flat bed trucks.

Lining the 'festival grounds' are 8 storage units - each housing a team participating in the chili cookoff. If you get cold, step on in and warm your belly with some spicy chili!

12 bands played, including acoustic, folk, bluegrass, punk-rock, classic rock, and raggae - it was FULL day of dancing . . .







Philosophical question: How is it that a machine, or in this case, a robot, can literally 'raise the roof', when his spec's indicate no such lifting abilities? I speculate its due to the special pre-party fuel mixture of tequilla, vodka, and beer.



Rock on, Sucka's . . . I'm extending my index and pinky fingers as hard as I possibly can

Its a harsh continent . . . the conditions were so extreme, that this local air guitarist was forced to pause mid-set to rehydrate. Somehow, she found the strength to continue . . .



Damn, I'm cute . . . or maybe drunk, yeah, actually, I'm just really drunk.



Normally, if a full beer were parallel to the ground, as it is pictured here, nestled in its workglove cozy, it would spill, but not in Antarctica, because the water flushes the 'other way' in the southern hemisphere. Bet you didn't know that, smarty pants!



umm, no comment.



These are my bosses . . . go figure . . .