South Pole. Section 02. Martin Hills to Pagano Nunatak. 82-84 Degrees South

October 14, 2023

Day 18. Dec 7. S 81º55.626 W 080º07.595 to S 82º07.063 W 080º08.858. 22 km. 8.5 hrs. 2710 Cal. The vestibule of the tent was heavy with spindrift and was bulging inside. I could not push it out from my sleeping bag so left it until later. Outside I could hear the stiff breeze but inside it was warm, and the solar chargers were just topping up the power banks on the east side of the inner tent floor. I managed to pack everything into the pulk by 0730, a record for this trip, and set off south. I thought I could do it all without my outer jacket today but after a few minutes I realised it was a bad idea and had to stop and faff around to adjust my head gear and then put the jacket on. It was instant relief from the biting wind.

I could feel my knee and indeed the whole IT Band from my knee up my thigh and I expected it would give me some hassle today. However, I also developed the pain in my neck quite early on and this concerned me more. I think it comes from leaning forwards with the harness on to pull the pulk. As I skied, I analysed the angle my body was at due to the high harness and wondered what would happen if I lengthened the shoulder straps and dropped the harness, so it was at my hips rather than resting on it. There was near instant relief as my posture was much more upright. The only problem was that my already exerted legs would now have to do a bit more and I felt it quickly. However, it did not get worse as the day went on.

There was a small climb in the morning, and I thought I saw either 2 or 3 skiers perhaps 4-5 kilometres ahead. If it was 2 it would be Alan and Dave and if it was 3 it would be the Finns led by Poppis. Both were in the vicinity as the Finns had a day off yesterday to celebrate Finnish Independence Day. The climb took perhaps a little under two hours and the going was easy. At the top of the climb, it levelled off and I really felt it was level. Here I crossed the 82nd degree. The last degree had been a very slow one and taken well over 10 days due to me nursing my knee. However, there was nothing to see at all but it was a significant milestone. I sat on my pulk and had my usual Clif Bar and hot chocolate with the sun in my face and back to the wind.

After my break I started the best 14 kilometres of skiing the trip had offered yet. The snowpack was firm and the pulk slid easily on the level terrain. There was no skarve really and the skis just slid along. I was doing 3 kilometres per hour. When Omar gets to this section on his bicycle, he really will be able to cycle. Halfway across this lovely section a small squall came in from the SE. The spindrift started to rise, and the air was full of sparkling crystals when the sun illuminated them. I had a repeat break sitting on my pulk and then carried on gliding across the snow’s surface. I almost got into a rhythm. The neck and knee discomforts had gone, and I could enjoy myself peering out from my goggles surrounded by the ruff on the jacket. I had already done 20 km by 1530 and should have called it an early day. However, before I got the tent out at a suitable camp spot, I dug a hole. I could only go down 10 cm before I hit hard ice. I would not be able to dig a hole for my feet when boiling the water. So, I went on another two km and this time I found a nice surface with deep firm snow. It was perfect.

It had been Force 4 or 5 all day and was now a 5. Before I unpacked the tent, I got all the pegs ready and also the harness line for the security line on the tent. I then unravelled it and I tried to keep it at snow level while I got the poles in the sleeves. I was up quickly then and soon I had dug a half metre deep hole in the vestibule and filled the tent with all the bags and cases. I secured the pulk and then withdrew into the tent zipped up the fly and enjoyed the warmth of the sun blasting on my face as I peeled off the icy garments. I brush the snow of everything and then lay them out in the tent to dry. On the west side in the evening and then moved them to the east in the night. With the boiling done and the stove put away I withdrew into the tent with my flasks and got into my sleeping bag to eat dinner. It was my favourite time of day, and the tent was usually around 20 degrees if the sun was out. Although my knee was a bit of an issue midday at the end of the day it felt like nothing was wrong and I could have gone on for another 5 km. I am not sure if that was the Nurofen I took a few hours earlier or my knee was healing. I think the former. It had been a great day, and I was pleased with everything when I finally settled down for the night at this the start of the second section. Although I could see no sign of the Martin and Nash Hills out to the west which heralded the start of this Section 02.

Day 19. Dec 8. S 82º07.063 W 080º08.858 to S 82º18.466 W 080º09.994. 22 km. 8 hrs. 2760 Cal. It was overcast and dull in the morning, but the wind was minimal, and it made packing the pulk and taking the tent down much easier and quicker and I was off by 0800. It was a flat light, and I could not really see the snow at all. However, I could tell it was smooth and there was some loose spindrift or even a small cover of new snow on top. It made for slightly heavier work dragging the pulk over spindrift or new snow. However far to the south on the horizon was a blue line in the sky and as the wind and weather constantly come from the south, I knew sunshine was on the way in a few hours. It took longer than expected to do the first 8 km until my break and in the dull light and softer snow it was a bit of a trudge.

After my break however the low cloud had broken enough to let some light onto the snow and at once I could see the more glazed bits and the small areas it had drifted which would cling at the pulk. So, I could weave a path between them until the sun finally arrived and my shadow appeared in front just to my right. Perhaps the snow just needed a little bit of sun to take the edge off its graininess because suddenly the pulk slid much more easily. I still had the short skins on on the Asnes Ousland and they worked really well, and I could actually ski on the level ice sheet. I made good time and enjoyed it. I could feel my knee, but it was very tolerable, and it gave me confidence to know what the problem was now.

I stopped for another break in the sun and sat on my pulk as usual to have my snack. The weather was so benign now I could even set the phone down in the snow to take a selfie. I had already done 16 km and was thinking about doing another 8 km and when I set off, I was full of vigour. The lovely skiing continued but soon I started to see some sastrugi fields litter the otherwise pristine gentle slope. Pierre who was now miles ahead warned me of 14 minutes (nautical miles) of sastrugi and I was about to enter it. After 6 km I decided that I would call it a day. My knee was OK, but I have a few chores like melting water, the blog and hanging the clothes to dry and if I leave it too late it runs past my bedtime of 2200. I found a place to camp, dug a test pit to make sure the snow was deep enough and then put the tent up.

One of the chores I had to do was beef up the padding round the Ampulla fuel bottles. With my pulk being fibreglass rather than Kevlar it was a bit less rigid, and I noticed the fibreglass matting liner had chaffed a hole in the bubble wrap around the containers. If I had a lot of sastrugi tomorrow it might chaff right through the side of the container and spill 4 litres of fuel into the pulk. It would be a nightmare scenario, so I used up all my empty ziploc bags and other plastic wrapping to cover the bottom of the Ampulla flasks and then kept all this twisted plastic in place with electrical tape. They were well padded by the time I finished. I not only boiled the litres of water I needed for the evening and next day but also a bit to wash in with my facecloth. The tent was so warm it was the perfect evening to do so. At one stage the top of the tent by the drying rack got to over 30 degrees!

There was little chat on the garmin messenger, but it seemed Sam was still going strong and in good spirits heading across the Ronne Ice Shelf to the Penescola Mountains and the Fire Angels were still going strong now about 39 km behind me. They were like a couple of Lionesses on the savannah closing down on an old bull buffalo. They will no doubt catch me within 2 weeks. I reassessed my food and it seems I still have 40 days which is more than I expected and makes me feel a bit more comfortable about not smashing out 30km days.

Day 20. Dec 9. S 82º18.466 W 080º09.994 to S 82º28.658 W 080º13.236. 20 km. 8.5 hrs. 2690 Cal. It was a beautiful morning and it had been a bright sunny night. The tent was very warm, and I did not sleep in my sleeping bag despite it being about minus 10 outside. I had no idea “solar gain” could be so significant. The lack of wind also helped. I got up early at 0530 and started with cereal and whey drink in bed before packing. I was off by 0730.  However, by this time the sun had vanished and there was a flat light with little contrast on the snow.

I had been warned by Pierre, now nearly 100 km ahead, that the next 30 km involved some big sastrugi. I had camped just at the northern edge of this area. It did not take long before I was into it. I am not sure what causes sastrugi other than wind. The wind and spindrift erode the hard snow into formations much like it does in the desert on sandstone outcrops. What is eroded gets blown away to form into a drift somewhere down wind and it builds into a large structure which then sets hard with the sun and minus temperatures. This hard drift is then ripe to get eroded into sastrugi again and so the cycle continues endlessly. It is at its worst where the wind is strongest. Here in Antarctica that is on downward slopes where the catabatic winds roar down to the coast accelerating down slopes or at pinch points between mountains. I don’t know why there was sastrugi here but there must have been some wind.

The shapes created were lovely to look at. A jumble of hollows, anvils, and sharp ridges but that is where the loveliness ends. For me there was a hellish collection of fiendish obstacles each one intent on tipping the pulk over or threatening to break a ski as I straddled two ghoulish shapes. In addition to that just downwind from the sastrugi were small dunes of gritty snow that would claw at the pulk. Luckily the sastrugi only occurred in patches, each about the size of a tennis court with another tennis court of soft grainy snow adjacent to them. In the worst areas the tennis court patches almost merged but it was still possible to weave a path between them. However, that frequently meant straying into the softer drifts or into the small sastrugi.

It took me nearly 4 hours to get to my first break after 8 km. My legs were tired with the effort of having to heave the pulk over ridges. I have a very strong bungee elastic on my tow rope, and it was sometimes nearly at full stretch as I leaned forwards. Often, I would go one way but the pulk got caught diagonally on the ridge and headed off at 45 degrees until it finally climbed the ridge which diverted it. It capsized a few times as it did not follow me, and the path I intended it to take, and wandered over frozen anvils.  All this was at great expense to me, and I could feel all the patient work on my knee undoing. In the end I discovered it was hard work going diagonally across it. It was easiest to follow the ridges and then tack back perpendicular to the ridges. A bit like a sailing boat beating into the wind. The only cheer in all this was that the sun was returning, and it was windstill and remarkably mild at minus 5.

After my lunch of rehydrated macaroni and cheese I continued but this time in better light. I could stop and pick a course with more thought and consideration. It was still slow going and I laboured on for another 3 hours just to gain another 6 km before I could feel the macaroni was spent and I needed another break. Two Clif bars later I was recharged but could only manage another 6 km before it was 1700 and I had been on the go for nearly 8.5 hours. It had only done 20 km today, but they were hard earned. My knee was sore, but not catastrophically so, and I could feel the other one just starting. According to Pierre I still had another 6 km of this tomorrow before it eased off again.

I was quite please I had managed all this on the short skins. I did put the longer ones on for a while but there was so much friction in them it was like trying to ski with snowshoes on. I think this was the cause of my sore knee in the first place 14 days ago. I am not sure what I will do about them. I have a pair of even smaller mohair short skins which offer great glide, but minimal grip and I might take the long skins off my Asnes Amundsen skis and put on these speedy skins and keep the current ones on my Asnes Ousland skis and vary the ski/skin combination to the conditions.

It was a lovely evening when I found a small patch of firm snow. The tent was up in 10 minutes without the wind, and I could dig a great hole in the vestibule to dangle my legs into. I zipped up the fly and felt the heat build. Soon the ice on my goggles and mouth guard were dripping water. I boiled the 7 litres and then took my outer shell off and retreated into the inner sanctum to surround myself in feathers, not that they were needed on this sunny wind free evening. The battery banks on the solar panel needed to be warmed before they would accept a charge but that was quickly sorted by putting them in the pizza delivery box with the hot thermoses for tomorrow’s drinks. It had been a hard day, but my legs seemed to recover quickly.

Day 21. Dec 10. S 82º28.658 W 080º13.236 to S 82º38.924 W 080º12.341. 20 km. 8 hrs. 2450 Cal. The tent was warm in the night, and it was very bright. It was like sleeping in a greenhouse on a summer’s day. However, it was still minus 10 outside. I did not sleep well and felt my knee after yesterday’s strain through the sastrugi. It was not sore I was just worried it was not getting better. It hung there like the Sword of Damocles ready to strike me down if I put in too much effort. I got my usual 0800 start on a beautiful wind free bright sunny morning.

The first 8 km to my first stop took 3 hours and it was all weaving through the sastrugi areas and having to cross drifts and ridges. It was simple enough, but I could not get a rhythm as there were so many small diversions and occasional heaves where I had to strain to get the pulk over a ridge. I was told by the Finns and young Pierre who were ahead that I would only have half a day of it and then it would get better and sure enough it did start to diminish by the time I got to this 8 km break. It was so calm and windstill the silence and peace were magnificent. I rehydrated a macaroni for lunch and had it on my pulk.

For the next 8 km the visibility started to deteriorate as low cloud swept in from the east. Small mounds in the icefield started to get absorbed by the could which was moving unstoppably closer. Rather quickly my shadow disappeared and then all the detail in the snow, highlighted by sparkling small ridges and shadows vanished. It was now all just a dull white. It was as if someone had switched the electricity off at a party. By now the sastrugi had all but vanished and I was thankful I was out of those hazards before the contrast went. The skiing now was quite smooth. I stopped for a short break after another 8 km and was surprised to see the odd flake of snow landing on the pulk. I had been getting my directions disorientated in this light so out came the compass on a chest mount, so it sat in front of my face. Even with this I could still turn 90 degrees in the space of 30 seconds if I was not paying attention. There was nothing on the horizon to focus on and my wind ribbon was hanging limp. In fact, there was hardly a horizon at all and if I took my goggles off, I could only see a dull grey white everywhere. On and on I skied correcting every 10 seconds when I looked at the compass on the chest mount. It was virtually the only thing I could see. However, the snow was superb and smooth and my skis and even the pulk glided effortlessly over it. It was just a shame I could not see it.

After 20 km I stopped for a Clif bar before the final 2 km in the contrast-less grey gloom when I noticed the tail end of one of my short skins had peeled back a little and was covered in snow. If I was not careful the whole skin would soon be covered in snow and the glue ineffective until dried. I had to attend to it at once and so decided to camp here and sort it out. The tent went up like a dream without any wind and I was inside with the stove going with 20 minutes.

However, I had to turn my attention to the skins. The long skins made by Colltex were full length and held on by a rubber clip at the front and a metal clip at the tail. When I looked at them, I could see both rubber clips were badly perished and damaged and would not last much longer. Also, one of the metal clips at the tail was bent back and I had no way to repair it. The long skins were doomed to fail very soon. I have used Colltex skins for 40 years and these were the worst set I had owned. They had just changed the design a little from the previous model but introduced two fatal flaws. It was a major concern and disappointment, and I can see myself throwing these skins away at Thiel Corner in 270 km. I took them off and packed them away. In their place I put on some 30mm mohair short skins. Probable the fastest but least grippy skin you can get. To prevent the tails peeling back on the other 3 skins and to reaffix the one which had already peeled I screwed the tails of them into the skis. Luckily, I had had the foresight to pack a hand auger, screws, and a screwdriver for this very purpose as it was always in the back of my mind the tails might peel. It took a good hour and a half to sort all this out, but I did it in conjunction with boiling the 7 litres. I kept the skis in my tent overnight just to press the glued tips on again and again before using them. So now both my skis have short skins, one for everyday use and one for excellent conditions and all have the tails screwed down.

On the bush telegraph I only heard from the Fire Angels this evening, 2 Welsh female fire fighters who were doing well. However, they just entered the sastrugi area when the light failed and after a few hours of floundering around in the mist decided to camp. Al and Dave were just a bit behind them. The Finns are probably 15 km in front of me and young Pierre some 100 km ahead of us leading the herd.

Day 22. Dec 11. S 82º38.924 W 080º12.341 to S 82º42.971 W 080º13.248. 8 km. 3 hrs. 1120 Cal. This morning started off where I left it yesterday. If felt quite warm perhaps minus 5 only and the visibility was poor. It was almost as if a warm fog had enveloped tis part of the Antarctic plateau. In every direction they were grey clouds above a barely discernible grey icefield. There was not a chink of brighter weather anywhere. I could see it was going to be a very difficult day to navigate so put the compass mount on and at the same time took my jacket off as it was just far too warm. Even with the compass in front of me I was still all over the place. I tend to fix a bearing on a darker patch of sky or a lighter cloud in the grey gloom but today there was little variation and what there was seemed to be every changing. So, in the space of 20 metres, I can wander of course by as much as 20 degrees. What generally happens is I veer towards the easiest path in the snow and my ski and pulk align themselves with the ridges and channels on the snow. I plodded on like this for about 4 km with the light getting worse and worse and the contrast almost totally disappearing. If I dropped an A4 sheet of paper on the ground in front of me, I doubt I would have been able to see it unless it lay across my ski. Luckily the snow surface was not too bad, and I could assume the next step was going to be like the previous. I suppose it was a good to a white out as you can get. The only blessing was there was absolutely no wind and the wind ribbon from my ski stick hung limply. On and on I pushed, correcting my direction with the compass every half minute or so.

However, after 4 km in an hour and a half the terrain started to change. Suddenly there was a ridge here which I had not seen, and my ski slid sideways on it, then there was an unexpected hollow 10 centimetres deep and I stumbled into it. This got more frequent, and the ridges and hollows became slightly bigger. At one stage the pulk became a dead weight and I could not heave it over the ridge, and I turned round to see it had capsized. Because I could not see the ridges the pulk was about to climb over I could not lunge forwards at the required time to increase the momentum and so often it would take me by surprise, and I would have to heave and strain. It was all becoming quite taxing. Pretty soon it was becoming quite chaotic, and I was starting to lose confidence as to where my skis would be on a ridge or in a hollow. My pace slowed right down to about a kilometre an hour. To an observer from afar I must have looked like a drunk trying to get home at night. I stumbled many times, fell a few, and frequently had to right the capsized pulk.

After an hour of this without the light getting any better or the terrain easing, I thought something is going to break here. Either my knee or a ski or a binding. For the effort I was putting in I was getting very little reward. I looked at the weather forecast, and it said it might improve marginally in the afternoon from 100% cloud cover to 70%. So, I decided to put the tent up and sleep until the afternoon came. With no wind the tent was up in a flash and my sleeping system in the green bag slid onto the groundsheet. I left everything else in the pulk, went into the tent unzipped the outer bag and was asleep in 5 minutes.

I woke an hour later at midday to see it was still the same so returned to bed. This continued through the afternoon and each time I had a look outside it seemed I had dipped my head into a bucket on milk. I could still see no contrast in the snow’s surface. The hoped for 70% cloud cover forecast came and went with no change. Eventually at 1700 I threw in the towel and decided to camp here. The forecast for tomorrow was much better and I needed some visibility to weave my way through the hazards here. In fact, it was supposed to be blue skies from midnight. On and off I had slept about 5 hours in the afternoon and will sleep more tonight so an early start might be on the cards. I also managed to finish up all the odds and ends of food I had saved in the last week which were left over from my daily ration packs and by doing so managed to get another day out of my food. So, the day I run out of food is postponed a day from the 16th to the 17th of January. In the evening I heard from Poppis and the Finns and also Pierre and they had soldiered on and made good ground. I suspect the ex-marines, Al and Dave, and the Fire Angels had a hard time of it in the sastrugi I left yesterday which was worse than what I encountered today.

Day 23. Dec 12. S 82º42.971 W 080º13.248 to S 82º55.963 W 080º14.662. 25 km. 9.5 hrs. 2860 Cal. When I woke in the early morning around 0400, I could feel the warmth of the sun. I looked outside and it was crystal clear, and the snow was full of detail. I got up, had breakfast and then was off by 0600. I could now see I was in the middle of a sastrugi area. there were ridges and grooves all over the place and occasionally a tennis court size area of ghoulish sculptures. I was worried I opted out too easily yesterday but now with the terrain before me I could see it was the best choice. It was windstill and only about minus 10 so quite perfect conditions. However, pulling the pulk was like as if it was in treacle. Over the last few days there was no wind and a fair amount of humidity. The surface of the snow was covered in a hawfrost of many small plates of icy snowflakes, and these clawed at the pulk and slowed it down. It was hard work pulling through it and also all drifts in the sastrugi area. After a couple of hours, I was starting to feel my knee as the effort was taking its toll. It felt like I was going uphill but when I looked behind me it looked like I was going downhill. One was an optical illusion.

I made heavy work of it and wanted to see if I could do 10 by 10. That is 10 km by 10 am in the morning. I just made it, and it took 4 hours in all. My knee was definitely complaining when I stopped for the lunch of Macaroni. I took another ibuprofen with it, but it made little difference for the afternoon stretch. I could feel every step and it was beginning to get me down and also causing me worry. If there is one reason this expedition fails it will be because of the knee. With it gnawing away, my thoughts turned very negative and pessimistic. How much longer could I go on if it persisted. What was the point of it all? was it just some ego trip to brag later I had done it? The joy of the expedition started to fall away at the thought of another 36 days with this dull ache and endless slog with very few creature comforts. I wondered at what stage most people who are going to bail out do so. Certainly not in the last third but perhaps in the first third when the reality of it all become too daunting. It would just take one phone call and it would all end and I could be teleported back to Punta Arenas with its pizza parlours and hot showers. It was the first time in the trip I had thought about quitting, and I was shocked at how powerful these thoughts were.

I had a second break around 17 km and sat on my pulk and ate a Clif bar. The wind was just starting to pick up and the flakes of hawfrost were getting blown around. They were settling in loose drifts and the sun was sparkling off them and the drifts where they were accumulating looked like a kaleidoscope of flashes. Eventually these flakes would get broken down into small ice particles of spindrift and pack together as the wind increased. I had a third Ibuprofen now hoping it would stave off any discomfort while I tried to get a reasonable distance today.

And it seemed to work. The snowpack became much harder, and it was easy to ski and the pulk seemed much lighter. For the next 3 hours I skied well and the pain in my knee completely vanished. I am not sure if it was the ibuprofen or that it the pain was reducing as the muscle and ligaments worked. I have noticed before at the end of a day it eases off. It completely restored my good mood and when I did the calculations in my head about distance left to do and days’ worth of food left, I realised it was very feasible. The weight in the pulk was diminishing considerably and it would mean I would get faster, but even if I didn’t, then at the halfway stage, in about 12 days, I would still have just under half my original food and more than half of fuel. It restored my confidence after a wobble in the morning and early afternoon. I skied on until 1700 hrs when the wind was up to a force 5 and I knew I better find somewhere to camp.

Putting up the tent was easy enough, but I used the security painter attached to it just in case it was ripped from my grasp by a gust. If it disappeared over the icy horizon, it really would be the end of the trip. Soon I was inside with my feet in the pit, and everything unpacked. I disrobed as the stove warmed the tent even more, so it was hot. Once the water was boiled, I retreated inside pleased with my 25 km and surprised that my knee was not complaining. I had my usual fish and potato stew, which I could never tire of, sitting up in bed and then wrote the blog with the heat of the sun drying my clothes and charging the batteries. Outside it was a force 5 and spindrift was everywhere but inside it was warm and calm.

Day 24. Dec 13. S 82º55.963 W 080º14.662 to S 83º07.490 W 080º16.159. 22 km. 9 hrs. 2810 Cal. It was windy but sunny in the night but in the morning the wind ramped up a notch from force 5 to 6.  I put all the clothes on I might need today, selected my gloves to take the tent down and the mitts for skiing and did everything up before I went outside. I could not believe the difference from the greenhouse like warmth of the tent to the industrial blast freezer outside. Spindrift was a metre high, and it was rippling across the snowfield. I had to be very careful not to lose any equipment as my dry bags of clothes would blow away. I had to take everything from the tent to the pulk rather than throw it out of the door. Taking the tent down was a difficult challenge and I made double sure it was anchored to my pulk drag rope with the security painter before I took out the last pegs. I then had to wrestle with it on the ground to fold the poles over in half and roll the whole thing up. It all took twice the time at least and I was being lashed with spindrift the whole time. Eventually I set off at 0730.

I could not use poggies today on the ski sticks as the risk of losing one was too great. Instead, I used my large Outdoor Research Alti mitts and once I change over from my Hestra work gloves my hands were lovely and warm but unable to do any small fiddly task. Although it was hard work skiing into the wind, and I was skiing directly into it, watching the streams of spindrift flow down was mesmerising and also spectacular when it went through sastrugi areas as plumes of it would be directed into the air. This was Antarctica in her raw nature. What it must be like in a force I shudder to think. If this current weather was in the UK, the Met Office would have issued a red warning with question. Yet in my salopettes and jacket I was protected from it and I could peer at it with comfort from my protective goggles and face mask.

I slogged into it for nearly 4 hours to get my first 8 km. The snow was loose and sandy and did not allow the pulk to pass easily and I think there was a fair bit of windage on the pulk also. I continued with a slow plod, as in first gear, slowly but sure grinding down the distance. However, despite yesterday’s efforts my legs were quite tired, but the knee did not complain at all. In fact, I did not notice it all morning despite the strain, nor had I felt it last night in the tent. It could not possibly be on the mend, could it?

When I came to have my break, it was a very undignified affair. I turned the pulk sideways to the wind and then crouched down on the snow in the lee of it like an animal would. It was somewhat sheltered but on each side of me I could see ridges of spindrift forming quickly before my eyes and it was amazing how quickly they built up. By the time I left they were half a meter high and 10 metres long. My hands got very cold here as I put on my usual small black ones to have lunch and they were soon covered in spindrift and inadequate, but the mitts came to the rescue as I started skiing again.

In the afternoon the wind started to ease and suddenly the spindrift all but vanished. Previously navigation was easy as it was directly into the spindrift all morning but now without it, I wandered a bit off the line. The skiing also got easier as the snow was not so loose, and the sun was perhaps glazing the surface. It was a nice 8 km, but it seemed to drag on. My thoughts were positive now and remarkably my knee was still not complaining except right at the end. By now the wind had eased enough that I could sit on my pulk and eat my Clif Bars without fear of getting frostbite in the blast freezer of the morning. In fact, in the late afternoon after my second break it was turning into a lovely late afternoon. The snow was now very hard and my pulk passed over it without much friction. I have noticed this a few times that the skiing is hardest in the morning and easiest in the evening when it is more glazed. I passed the 20 km mark which I would not have envisaged in the morning and continued for another 2 km. Again, there was not complaint from my knee.

Time was getting on now and it was after 1800 before I had the tent up and the pit for my feet dug. Once everything was secured outside, I came in and sat on a dry bag of clothes with my feet in the pit and closed the outer door. It was instant bliss as I could feel the warmth on my face as I peeled off the ice encrusted head gear and gloves. I got the stove going as soon as possible and started feeding chunks of snow into the kettle. This usually takes an hour and warms the tent even more as the liquid fuel stove pumps out the heat. Inside the tent it was a forest of drying clothes from the clothes lines, mostly gloves and their linings. Before long the solar panels were charging the batteries. Once enough water was boiled, I retreated into the tent and closed up the inner to enjoy my delicious dinner and write the blog. The blog alone takes nearly 2 hours to write and send. Despite the wind it had been a great day mostly on account of my knee not complaining too much.

Day 25. Dec 14. S 83º07.490 W 080º16.159 to S 83º21.024 W 080º17.636. 26 km. 9.5 hrs. 3030 Cal. All too quickly it was 0500 and the cycle starts to repeat. I opened a new weekly food bag last night. I have 5 left meaning another 35 days. It is one of the ways I have of keeping track of time and seeing the weight slowly reduce as each one is about 10 kg.  I then gather all my chargers and gadgets from in my sleeping bag and pack them away. Then have breakfast, again in my sleeping bag. I could see it was sunny and there was little wind outside, my favourite combination. As I eat, I check the weather forecast on the Garmin Inreach device I have. Inside the tent it was 14 degrees. Then it is time to get out of my sleeping bag and put on my socks, salopettes, jacket, boots, and the head gear. Once that is on, I zip up my sleeping bag in the bedding system and throw everything outside the door and follow it zipping up the tent. I put it all in the pulk and then take the tent down. The tent poles remain in their sleeves and I just part the 3 sets in the middle and fold them over and then roll the whole thing up and put it in a 1.5-metre-long tube bag. It too goes in the pulk, and everything gets zipped into the pulk cover and secured down. The whole procedure takes 2 hours but a bit more if it is windy.

Today was not windy. It was a beautiful day with azure blue skies and hardly a breath of wind. It was the perfect day and would do wonders for morale. The snow was quite fast and hard and the pulk moved easily across the generally even terrain. I was in a good mood and humming cheerful songs and I walked quicky with my skis on. I always seemed to be going uphill but again when I looked back it looked like I had come downhill. It was a common theme I had noticed frequently. Whatever I was doing the gradients were minimal. After 3 hours I had done my 8 km and sat on the pulk with my face to the sun and had macaroni and ibuprofen.

For the second 3 hours stint the snow went from OK to superb. Suddenly I found myself actually skiing and the pulk was just bouncing along behind me. I got into a rhythm of launching off one ski and gliding with the other. I was doing about 6 km per hour. Ecstatically I calculated I would do 30 km today, be at Thiel fuel cache 210 km away in a week and at the Pole in 3. And the pulk felt much lighter than before. When I started it was like pulling a railway carriage, now it was just like a Volvo estate and hopefully in a few weeks it will feel like a Smart car. However, it did not last long and after about half an hour the terrain got rougher, and I felt my knee. My mood came crashing down again. Will I never shake this affliction. And I limped on to my second break again sitting on the pulk in glorious sunshine.

On the third stint I actually had to sit on the pulk at one stage while the knee was sensitive but then I thought if I carry on it will pass as it does most days. And it did and I hit the 20 km mark feeling great. I carried on for a few more hours but the terrain got much rougher as the sastrugi appeared and between these wild sculptures in the snow everything else was large skarve with ridges and grooves. Luckily, they seemed to be aligned to the direction I wanted to go. Nevertheless, it was slower, and I had to right the pulk 5 times after various capsizes. As I was feeling good, and the late afternoon was perfect I carried on for another hour after my usual stopping time of 1700. The terrain got even worse, but I managed to find a camp spot at 1800 amongst it all. The tent was up very quickly, and I did not load the valances with snow as it was forecast to be still all night and there was very little reason to question that now. Within half an hour I was basking in the tent with the sun radiating through the ripstop nylon cover. I knew all my sweaty clothing and damp boots would be dry in a few hours. It is this solar gain and 24-hour sunlight which makes expeditions down here possible. If it were dark outside with no chance to dry anything it would be a real hardship. Borge Ousland and Mike Horn, arguably the world top two explorers did a trip across the North Pole in the dark of winter and must have endured some terrible hardship and used lots of fuel heating the tents.

It was a busy night on the Garmin Inreach bush telegraph. The Fireangels were just behind me and enjoyed the same glorious day. They did 27 km and would soon overtake me. Pierre 100 km to the north had a great morning but then hit cloud and poor visibility. Sam on a different and much more demanding route had endured a day of great effort where he had to shuttle everything up a steep slope in a scene out of the Heroic age of polar exploration a century ago. But everyone seemed in good spirits. For me it was one of the best days of the trip and I think if I take enough ibuprofen and push through the knee pain, which comes around the 10-15 km mark and disappears later, I have a good chance to finish. Especially as I can feel my pulk getting lighter as I have used ? ‘s of the consumables. I still have another 50 kg to shed from the weight and that will make a huge difference to my speed and effort.

Day 26. Dec 15. S 83º21.024 W 080º17.636 to S 83º32.975 W 080º19.594. 23 km. 9 hrs. 2530 Cal.  I often wake in the night at am pleased to see it is just midnight or 0130. However, this morning I slept through it all and was surprised to see it was 0515 but I still felt tired. The night had passed in a flash, and I felt cheated of some downtime. I had to start the day at once and it was a beautiful day outside so there was no time to waste. After the usual routine I was away by 0715. This time I did not put a jacket on as it was sunny and windstill. I still had my face coverings though, partly also to protect my lips against the intense glare.

I divided my day into 3 x three-hour long sections again, during that time I could generally make 8 km. As an experiment with the first I did not take any ibuprofen and my knee felt quite normal up to the break. This was partly because I could not exert myself and stride forth due to the terrain. It was heavily sastrugied and I had to make every step with consideration. However, there was plenty of routes through the sastrugi and I was always looking 50 metres ahead for the best course. Often, they looked worse than they were and there was a path right through the middle of them. One was very gnarly and impassable, even to a tractor, and was high. I called it a Monsterugi ! It was about my height.

After 3 hours I stopped for a very calm lunch. I could put anything on the ground without any fear of it getting blown away and the wind ribbon on the ski stick barely fluttered. The sun warmed me as I sat on the pulk even though it was at least minus 10.

For the second spell I could see clouds far in the distance. They looked different to wispy ones, and I wondered if they could be caused by mountains which I knew to be in that direction but still 180 km away. That was where the Theil Mountains were, and I would be skiing past them for a week starting in 8-9 days. I also knew there were nunataks to the west like the Pagano Nunatak but could see no sign of them. At the top of every rise, I looked longingly for mountain or nunataks which might punctuate this endless frozen ice cap. The middle section today the ice cap was like an ocean which had been frozen in a squall. The white claws of breaking waves instantly petrified into ghoulish sastrugi. I got right through this section also without feeling my knee.

It was only in the third section did it start to hurt and that coincided with the terrain becoming much more benign so I could put more effort in and start to ski.; thrusting with the trailing leg while the leading leg glided for half a metre or so. I got a good rhythm going on the hardening flatter snow and the pulk clattered along behind me. With my red poggies on the ski sticks thrust into view alternatively each side of me I felt like a steam engine locomotive. However, it took its toll and I had to slow down and then stop a kilometre short of my goal. However, if someone had said to me 3 weeks ago when I was distraught in the tent thinking I had torn a ligament that I would be pushing 25 kilometres daily soon I would not have believed it. It was good to stop when I did as there were a few things I had to do.

Once the tent was up, I had to fill up my 3 fuel bottles from the plastic ones in the pulk. I think the lids might have been leaking fractionally when the liquid in them sloshed around when I went over the sastrugi. Filling the bottle is always a fraught and dangerous occasion as the fuel is very cold and any spillage on your hands is a serious skin injury. I took 3 litres out of the fullest container so now each container has 2 litres in it. Then I had to attend to a blister which surprised me as I never get blisters. I also had to have a token wash and cut my nails. Occasionally I would catch whiff of my clothing, especially the damp wool clothing and it smelt like an animal cage at a zoo. It would make Durian fruit smell like roses. With those chores done and the water boiled it was time to withdraw into the inner sanctum of the tent and have my supper propped up in sitting position on the thermarest. I could never tire of my potato and fish stew, but the lunchtime macaroni is becoming dull. There was very little chat on the bush telegraph tonight except from the Fireangels who are slowly catching me up and are just 8 km behind me now. I think to an extent I am pulling them, and they are pushing me to do an extra few km every day.  It was a good day really but tomorrow looks like the light will be poor if not terrible.

Day 27. Dec 16. S 83º32.975 W 080º19.594 to S 83º35.555 W 080º19.530. 5 km. 3 hrs. 630 Cal.  I knew today was going to be a difficult day as the forecast was for 100% cloud cover and light snow. The problem was going to be with visibility if I came across rough terrain. I set off sharp at 0700 and the first kilometre was good except snow was sticking under the nylon short skins. I changed skis to the ones with the short mohair skins and they slid beautifully. However very soon I hit rough terrain. In the white it was difficult to see if it was just skarve or whether it was sastrugi. Whatever, the mohair skins were not grippy enough for the occasion and I had to swap back.

For the next 2 hours I fumbled and stumbled over small unseen ridges and had to heave frequently to pull the pulk out of hollows. It was a lot of effort for very little gain. The pulk capsized frequently as it slid off a ridge. On one occasion 3 times in the space of 10 metres. In the end I had to take my skis off and walk it through some of the areas for a couple of times. I grew increasingly irate and frustrated and, in the end, decided it was not worth it. The forecast was for it to be poor all day and I thought if I continue like this all day something on me or the equipment will break. I compared myself to a lumber horse decades ago trying to pull logs out of a felled forest full of tree stumps and doing it in the dark. Others seemed to manage better and the Fireangels overtook me and did about 20 km but perhaps it is easier in a team. It can be difficult mentally on your own as there are no reference points and, in the end, you lose your confidence as to where your next step may be. I felt my knee hurting a bit after a particular strenuous heave to get the pulk over an unseen divot and then decided that’s it.

It was only 1030 but there was little to gain and plenty to lose so I found a level spot somewhere in the white and put the tent up temporarily. I intended to wait here until it cleared. I just took in my sleeping bag and slept from 1100 to 1300. When I looked again it was worse with low cloud and a slight snowfall of round polystyrene type snow. The same at 1500 when I then decided to get everything I needed from the pulk and make this spot my home for the night.

There were a few things I needed to do like cut up the large full skins which were just about useless anyway. I cut them into shorter segments I could screw into the base of the ski should my current nylon ones fail, and I had to stitch a small hole in the sleeping bag. After doing my exercises for my knee I had the usual supper and then went to bed early hoping for a very early rise as the forecast is good from after midnight. I still have 32 days of food and ample fuel and even managed to squirrel away some of the snacks I did not eat today in hope that I might accrue another days’ worth of food should there be more rest days. None the less it was a frustrating day.

Day 28. Dec 17.  S 83º35.555   W 080º19.530 to S 83º49.520 W080º26.150. 27 km. 12 hrs. 3650 Cal.  Because I slept much of the day, I did not sleep well at night so when I woke just after one, I had a look outside. It looked like it was clearing up as the forecast promised. I slowly got into gear and rumbled into life pulling myself out of the warm sleeping bag after breakfast. However, when I was ready to go at 0315 it had misted over again and was snowing gently. By this stage I was committed so set off. The terrain was gentler than I remembered it from yesterday and there was a predictability to where my skis went. It was the pulk which had a mind of its own and wandered off the plinth I was skiing along into a groove where it capsized. In all there were about 12 capsizes which are very time consuming to rectify.

However, after an hour it got a bit more gnarly and the mist induced whiteout more complete. I slowed right down and walked forwards using my poles like a blind man would use a white stick. I found them especially good to keep them well to the front of me and off to the side where I could feel if there was a groove or divot. I felt one many times, and prodded around more to see what the obstacle was. I could then divert to the other side to stop the pulk capsizing off the edge. It worked very well but it was slow at just over 1 km per hour.  However patiently and carefully I was gaining some kilometres. My vision was limited to what I saw out of the goggles which was just my two large red poggies thrust forward with the sticks prodding forwards. I should imagine it is rather the same view as a lobster might have probing along the seafloor with its two claws on each side.

I have changed my strategy now and instead of aiming to do 3 times 8 km a day I will do 4 times 6 km. It is a much more manageable chunk and less daunting to do 2 hours rather that 3 between breaks. During my first break I sat on my pulk in the white mist with snowflakes falling and had a Clif Bar and hot chocolate at about 0530 in the morning. However, during the second break at about 0900 I noticed that the visibility was improving, and I could see 100 metres now, all be it like someone with cataracts. However, things just carried on improving until at last I saw a faint shadow and the surface of the snow sprung into life.  I had just done 12km in the space of nearly 7 hours but suddenly I could stop probing and shuffling and go faster.

By the end of my third session, it was becoming a glorious day and the very gentle breeze was from the east meaning it did not have the bitter edge as the south wind does. I could now see everything although there was a haze in the sky from which a light snow continued to fall. It mattered not to the visibility as the sun shone through and warmed me. It had a halo round it all day as the light higher haze distorted its light. The terrain for the rest of the day was through sastrugi fields. However, between these fields of ghoulish shapes like blacksmith’s anvils and giant closed fists was a relatively level platform of level snow covered in a light dusting of new powder. With the great visibility it was possible to plan a route which did not involve too much deviation and I was making good time.

At the end of my fourth session, it was just 1530 and I had already done 24 km. I pilfered the snacks I had squirrelled away yesterday and set off again hoping to get another 6 km and try and get my first 30 km day. Despite the odd niggle from both knees, I felt OK but then doubts started creeping in. Was it really worth the bravado of doing 30 km if I was to be semi crippled for the next week. It had happened earlier in the trip. Also, the time was soon approaching 1700 and I need time in the evening to do all my chores so after 3 km I saw a nice patch of snow and put the tent up.

By 1800 I was sitting in the hot vestibule with my legs in a pit starting to boil the water. Once I had supper, I tried to write but fell asleep in the warm tent sitting in campers chaise-longue. The alarm woke me for my scheduled 2100 called to ALE to check in and report everything was OK. During this call the doctors at ALE, Paddy and Isla, had arranged that Ily, a guide from Alaska, sit in. She was also a physiotherapist and talked me through some more exercises for my IT Band as well as hips and legs in general. This level of service ALE provide is really second to none and is offered not just from good customer service but also a real human concern. Virtually everyone who works at Union Glacier, and there are about 100 staff, are all outdoors people and very empathetic. I was going to write again after the phone call but fell asleep at once after what had been a long but great day.

Day 29. Dec 18.  S 83º49.520 W 080º26.150 to S 84º02.177 W 080º30.731 24 km. 9.5 hrs. 2600 Cal. Yesterday was far too long in duration and effort. As a result, I was too tired to do anything last night and exercises, blog, teeth etc all fell by the wayside as I fell asleep at 2110 after the scheduled call to ALE. That meant when I woke at 0500 I had to write and send the blog otherwise it would have over me like a black cloud all day. I was done by 0630, had breakfast and was off but 0800 a full hour later than normal but with a clear conscience on a beautiful still sunny morning with some hazy cloud.

The late finish and late start totally mucked up my routine. Routine for an expedition like this is essential. Without routine and consistency things quickly unravel and flow into the sand. I have my routine of up a 0500 off at 0700 and then doing four 6 kilometre stretches each taking about 2.5 hours and then putting the tent up around 1700-1730 which give me enough time to boil the water, at least an hour, eat supper and write the blog finishing at 2100 for the 3-minute phone call. Then lights out as they say. Any deviation from that means I am very tired in the morning and he to fight to get things back on track.

All 4 sections of the skiing today were pretty similar. The old snowpack had 3-4 cm of new snow on it from the last couple of days and this did not allow the pulk to pass easily. The snow particles clung to the runners as it went over them, and I could hear it grinding all day. When this melts and refreezes or just get a bit of a glaze on it then it will be lovely to pull the pulk across it. I had both the short nylon and short mohair skins on at different times today. They are on different set of skis and the set which are redundant sit on top of the pulk, so they are easy to change as the conditions determine. At each of my 3 breaks I could sit on my pulk without my main jacket on such was the clement weather all day. Having no wind was nice but the warming sun and excellent visibility was magnificent. With my 4 stints of 6 km done I found a nice place to camp at the 24 km mark. A bit later than I would have liked for my evening chores but pleased I had done 24 km after yesterday’s 27 km. It was also especially pleasing that my knee was no longer the gnawing pain and that I had only taken 1 ibuprofen each day. I would not say I am out of the woods with it, but my confidence is returning.

I heard from one other expeditioner who is going “unsupported” and has run into a lot of bad luck. It means he might have to go “supported”. Although there are only 2 characters difference in those words there is a huge difference in reality. Supported means you can get 3 food and fuel drops; you can leave your rubbish at Theil and you can get replacements of things that might break. In theory it means you can travel very light most of the time with a 70 kg pulk reducing to 50 kg before you reach our next supply. Your pulk is not quite a toboggan with a hamper of easter eggs on it but it is more that end of the scale than Sam Cox’s monster pulk with 80 days of food and fuel in it and weighing in at nearly 200kg for his unsupported expedition. So, what does unsupported mean. It means you have to take everything from the start. All the food, all the fuel, all the spare parts, and contingencies like spare ski, solar chargers, clothing. It is a lot more demanding and completely self-reliant. When I started, my pulk was 137 kg but if I went supported it would be 70 at the most. Mine is probably 95 now but will come down a further 40 as I eat the other half of my food to around 55 kg. 55 kg will be a dream. This extra weight at the beginning puts a lot of extra wear and tear on the body and slows one down a lot. So, there is a lot more kudos to unsupported especially amongst the polar community and any serious expedition to north or south polar regions would have to go unsupported to have any claim.

The worst is to start off unsupported and put all that effort into it and then have some bad luck like a fuel leak or a broken binding which you could not fix and had to rely on outside help. Your expedition would then be reclassified from unsupported to supported and for that you lose all claim to any record you were trying to set and also some status. I am still unsupported but only by the grace of God. If one of my critical bits of equipment packed in and I needed outside help I would lose that status and revert to supported.

I learnt today that one of us is having that plight and unless he can figure something out, will have to seek outside help and revert to supported. Consider his journey in comparison to the one of the electric vehicle which made it to the south pole. This makes towing a toboggan of easter eggs seem impossibly arduous with its heated seats and climate control. Now some people, especially petrolheads, might consider me a puritanical killjoy but I suggest this expedition should never have happened. Dogs are not allowed on Antarctica for environmental reasons so why should an electric vehicle? Is nothing sacred anymore? It is the thin end of the wedge. What’s next, the Red Bull Mt Vinson Motor Cross Rally? To add to my distaste, it was done for climate change awareness. It left me fuming about as much as the petrocarbon generators used to charge the electric vehicles’ batteries and the diesel support vehicles. Rant over!

Towards the end of the day, I crossed the 84th degree. That brings an end of the second of five equal sections. I could not see the nunataks, like Pagano which marked the end of it, but my GPS told me I had crossed into the middle section, that is the section with the Thiel Mountains. This last section saw my knee and IT Band getting stronger and starting to heal and it also saw my total pulk weight reduce by a further 15 kg. It may not sound much against the 100 kg average, but I am starting to feel the difference. I still have 30 days of food left and this is 2 days more than half, so I feel quite comfortable in the supplies I have.

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