Tuesday, May 1, 2001

The Snowstake Field

In winter at the South Pole, an outdoor task that would normally be routine can seem like a huge expedition. One of these tasks is measuring the snowstake field, which is done monthly. These are not the snowstakes that stretch for twelve miles from the station on the Polar Plateau, which I mentioned in an earlier journal entry, but a field of 50 stakes a few hundred yards from the Dome in close proximity to each other. Measuring them all takes about an hour.

The height of each of these stakes is measured on the last or first day of each month. This allows for very little choice of weather. If the wind is gusting to 25 knots on the last day of the month, we hope it calms down by the first, because we have no choice but to go out to the field. But the wind could pick up. It’s kind of a gamble. Will the weather get better or will it get worse? Should we go now or wait?

Last month the winds were high on March 31, but dropped on the first of April. I waited for the wind to calm, but regrettably waited too long. Windy weather here usually means much warmer temperatures (but much colder wind-chills). Once the wind died down, the temperature dropped. By the time I made my way out to the field, the winds were quite calm, but the temperature was already -85°F (-65°C). Halfway through measuring the stakes, I could not feel my toes. I had worn two pairs of wool socks and my warm ‘bunny boots’, which had never failed to keep my toes warm. That time they did. By the time I was done measuring the field, I did not know if I could make it back to the Dome. It was really only my hands and feet that were cold, but It only takes one body part getting cold to make the whole experience of being outside very unpleasant. I needed to get back to warmth fast. I made it back to the Dome of course, and after a very uncomfortable warming period and a sating cup of hot chocolate, my fingers and toes recovered.

This month we were lucky. Just like last month, the wind blew over 20 knots for most of its last day. Shortly after midnight on May first the wind dropped to ten knots. The temperature stayed around -65°F (-53°C). I wasted no time getting ready to go. This time I would be prepared. I activated two chemical hand-warmers and put them in the toe of each of my boots. Victoria offered to come with me and record measurements on the clipboard. I was very grateful. Her help would save a lot of time.

These missions always call for a lot of gear, especially in the winter. Radio: check. Yardstick: check. Clipboard: check. Headlamps: check. Pencils: check (one finds out very soon that ink pens don’t work very well outside here). Extra chemical hand-warmers: check. Sauna on for when we get back: check. Every inch of skin covered up: check. Okay, we were ready to go.

We made our way in the complete darkness along the 'flag line' with a rope extending from one flag to the next. It was difficult to see anything. I turned my headlamp out to see if I could trudge solely by the light of the stars. I took a step and the hard top layer of snow settled, radiating its force outward and sending a vast expanse of packed snow down a few inches with a "Fumph!" that echoed throughout the still night air to the horizon. The empty silence that followed accentuated the feeling of darkness and cold. A chill of fear came over me. I turned my headlamp back on and continued. The shadows of sastrugi jumped out as phantom animalistic contours of amorphous silhouettes. I quickened my pace. I needed to get to the snowstake field and start working; I needed to free my mind from the monsters of the dark.

After what seemed like a distance much farther than the same trek in summer, we found our way to the conglomeration of snowstakes and started measuring. I could feel the wind begin to pick up again, but still managed to stay warm. It was much easier with Victoria’s help. My goggles began to fog up so I had to remove them. The only effect I could feel from their absence was icicles beginning to form on my eyelashes. It was getting windier.

It always strikes me as strange to be doing outdoor scientific work in Antarctica. It is an instant reminder of where I am and what is actually happening. Part of me thinks, "This is crazy. What am I doing here?" Then I think about how amazing it is to be exactly where I am. I am walking on the continent of Antarctica! I am a scientist taking measurements at the South Pole. I am really here.

We became disoriented only a few times, and managed to measure all the stake heights in the proper order in record time: just under an hour. And I was still warm. It is amazing what a difference it makes when no body part gets uncomfortably cold. I could stay out there for hours. When we returned to the weather office, I checked to see how much the outside conditions had changed. The wind-chill had dipped below -140°F. We stayed warm anyway.

What a relief it was to come back inside and feel totally comfortable! I had a hot drink anyway. I can’t think of a better occasion to sip hot chocolate than after coming in from a trip outside-- even a short one -- at the South Pole.

	help!
Victoria		Nathan