October 14, 2023

Day 52. Jan 10. S 87º57.940 W 083º05.636 to S 88º09.228 W 082º43.957. 22 km. 10.5 hrs. 2940 Cal. There was sun on and off in the night and the tent was warm. However, in the morning just as I was packing up, I could see the clouds starting to erase the sun and the light. Not again I thought. How many white outs can there be on this trip? But it did not turn out like that as it must have been a thin mist of low cloud and although my shadow almost disappeared, the visibility remained tolerable. It stayed like this for a couple of hours until my first break. After 5 km I crossed out of the difficult 87 degree and into the reputedly easier 88 degree. The terrain was quite easy, but it was slow. All that new snow which had fallen yesterday was like white iron filings, shards of ice, and they clung to the pulk as I pulled it over them. It was hard slow work, almost like pulling a tyre on a wet sandy beach. The sun never really disappeared though, and it shone through the veil of mist with a halo round it and more iron filings in the mist fell to the ground.

I was dreading my second break as I anticipated cold fingers preparing and eating it. It was cold, about minus 25, but the ferocious bitter winds of the last few days had dissipated, and it was now a gentle breeze and the wind ribbon waved half-heartedly. Preparing lunch, I must have looked like a scientist handling flasks of liquid nitrogen. I had big clumsy mitts on and with them I was filling the Nalgene bottle and the macaroni cup with steaming water from the thermoses. In the end it worked OK, and the macaroni was great. It started hot but I had to finish it within 5 minutes, or it would start to freeze.

I was quite empowered by the lunch and set off well. I could feel the surge of energy from the 1000 calorie meal. Instead of stopping after 5 km I continued for 7 km. The terrain got easier with less sastrugi and dunes or drifting, and, if you could see them, there were also strips of harder glazed snow which were aligned in the direction I was going. More and more blue sky was appearing and yet behind me from where I had come looked dark and almost certainly a whiteout. I wondered if I really had climbed out of one weather zone into another which was the high pressure which was frequent on the polar plateau, where there was more of a continental climate. Frequently I looked back, and the sun was still there but beneath it on the ground was a tremendous glow as if there was a nuclear explosion. I assume it was the optics of the veil of mist and the reflection from the snow. It was there all afternoon whenever I looked back.

During my third break a hand got very cold. I think some moisture got onto the glove and into the mitt liner while I was preparing a drink. Luckily, I had the redline mitts to hand in a pocket in the green bedding bag. I ripped off my damp glove and plunged my hand into the lamb’s wool and down feather of the redline and prevented any damage. I was glad now I had an abundance of gloves. I skied another 5 km after that across a plain filled with dunes of snow about a metre high. There was hardly a flat patch there. It looked like ocean would look like in a force 3 breeze just before the white caps of a force 4 started. They were easy to ski over but there was plenty of soft snow between them to slow me down.

At last, the 22 km mark for the day came and I pitched the tent at once in this choppy frozen ocean. There was no wind, and the tent was a dream to put up even with mitts on. It took just 15 minutes instead of the windy 30 minutes when I was much more cautious. As it was, I could feel the heat of the sun on my face as I started to boil the kettle. I had still 205 km to ski to the South Pole and had 9 day’s worth of food which I could stretch to 10 with a bit of rationing and 11 with a lot. It seemed quite plausible. I had already done over 950 km since I started. Once the weather improves in a few days I might put in some early starts to get the average milage down a bit. It had been a great day, and I was delighted to have started the final section and put the rough climb section behind me.

Day 53. Jan 11. S 88º09.228 W 082º43.957 to S 88º20.805 W 082º46.888. 22 km. 11 hrs. 3070 Cal. Although the sun was out it was very cold at minus 28 outside. Luckily there was virtually no wind otherwise it would have been serious. As it was, I could feel the cold creep through my salopettes. I had pretty much every item of clothing on when I left at 0700. In the unlikely event it got too hot I could always ventilate using the zips on the salopettes and pit zips on the jacket. It remained chilly all day and even hit minus 30 when I stopped to put the tent up. The one item I lacked were really good gloves for tent work. The Hestra Alpine Pro were not up to the job as the shiny leather absorbed the cold and the lining was too thin. Much the same way a steel toecap boot is cold in the winter as the toecap absorbs the cold.

I did not have a plan when I set off but wanted to cross the 88 degree and 20-minute line. It was about 21 km away. All the 4 sessions today were quite similar. The spindrift had settled everywhere on the flat ice between the gentle climbs. On these flatter bits with new spindrift the going was very sluggish and the ice crystals lying in the dunes did not let the pulk pass easily. However, where the ridges of the dunes had been polished the pulk slid beautifully. The trouble was there were few of these polished areas and they were mostly on the climbs.

As the wind was now quite negligible it was easy to prepare my food and eat it sitting on the pulk. I had made a mistake of taking such preparation intensive food for my midday meals and would have been better off having a nose bag of easy snacks I could just tuck into. When I did have my macaroni, I did feel a surge of energy which lasted a couple of hours before the mouse was back gnawing at the walls of my stomach. I was quite well nourished though but my main complaint was tiredness.

I don’t know whether my pulk is heavier or slides less well than the others?  Probably both but at the moment I am putting in 10-11 hours days every day without respite and have to do so to complete my 22-24 km each day. I wake at 0500 and the cycle begins and start skiing at 0700. I don’t finish until 1900 and then have to set up the tent and put everything on the drying racks. If the sun is not out to warm the tent, I have to bring the stove in to warm the tent for an hour or so to dry everything. Then I have supper, write the blog, and try and get to sleep by 2200 but it is often later. I should have 8 more days of this before I reach the South Pole. People might ask what I am going to do when I reach the Pole and the ALE camp there. Overwhelmingly what I would like to do is sleep. I will sleep for days hopefully.

The weather now is much more continental with dry, sunny, cold. The forecast for the next week is more of the same. But it comes at the price of cold. It is now on average between -25 and -30 centigrade outside. But without the catabatic winds that is not too bad if you wrap up well. I do have a problem with my breathing mask and general condensation from my breath. It ices up the windstopper flap I have sewn onto the bottom of my goggles to protect my nose and cheeks. icicles hang from the bottom of it. When I lift them slightly to my forehead so I can eat I feel I am in the mouth of a predator fish looking out past the teeth. However, the real condensate is around the mask and at the end of the day it is thick with ice. I should have brought 3 or 4 of them really to swap out every break.

Today I skied until about 1900 and as soon as I had done my 23 km put the tent up. I was tired, too tired to write the blog, so I am writing it the next morning before breakfast at 0430. Hence the slight rambling. On the bush telegraph the FireAngels, Bex and George have finished with a massive 37 km day and have reached the Pole. Congratulations to them they have had a well-organised and well-disciplined expedition and have done stunningly well. Poppis and the Finns are about 2 days ahead of me and Al and Dave about one and a half, so I am still managing to keep in touch with them. They both had resupply caches left for them near here. Also about are Per the Swede and Robert the Polish skier who started at the shorter Messner start and are a few days ahead. And then there is Patrick who started at Berkner Island and is doing a really huge trip. Patrick is going very well and should be at the South Poe in a few days. We are all put to shame by Frenchman Vincent Colliard who reached the South Pole yesterday beating the previous record which had stood for a while. He did it in 22 days beating the record by 2 days. It will be nice for Pierre (already at the Pole and waiting to fly back to Union Glacier) to meet him. 2 record breakers, both French, the fastest and the youngest.

Day 54. Jan 12. S 88º20.805 W 082º46.888 to S 88º32.724 W 081º46.847. 23 km. 10.5 hrs. 2800 Cal. Distance to Pole 162 km. Food Left 7 days. (ED: note the 2 new stats for the final countdown!) Again, it was very cold in the morning. Down to about minus 30. I got cold fingers packing up the tent. I noticed that although it was clear and quite wind still, the air was full of shards of ice glistening in the sun like stardust. Every day the terrain in degree 88 has become easier and today it started off pretty uniform with small dunes, drifts really. You could have skied here in a whiteout without trouble. However, the snow was abrasive, and it was hard to pull the pulk except for the rare bit of more glazed snow. I guess that as the sastrugi, and the dunes get smaller it means the winds are not so strong here and maybe that’s why the snow was a bit looser and still sharp and angular as it had not been battered and rolled by the wind as spindrift. I felt desperately tired as I skied in the morning both physically and even more mentally. There were times where I could easily have fallen asleep and carried on skiing I felt, like sleepwalking.

I had my breaks sitting on the pulk with the very slight breeze in my back and the sun in my face. It was like the weeks before Thiel Fuel Cache when the weather was good. except now it was probably 20 degrees colder. I easily made the macaroni and the hot chocolate drinks with the mitts on as I was getting more used to it. I had to eat the macaroni quickly, like a dog lapping up its dinner and without finesse as I had to get it down before it froze.

In the second half of the day the temperature rose to about minus 15 and it was noticeably warmer. It was more to do with the sun being at its strongest than with any weather change. Whereas yesterday I felt I was going uphill the whole day while not really doing so, today I felt I was skiing on the level. Either my legs were less tired, or the snow was a bit easier. Once I had been going for about 12 hours in all with 10.5 on skis I decided to camp. I wanted 24 but was happy with 23.

I had wanted an early night but as I was melting snow the stove started to splutter. It needed a bit of maintenance. The other one had already been put aside for maintenance, so I had to strip the burners from both stoves and get them going again. It took well over an hour. I also filled my fuel bottles from the dodgy ones in the pulk. I had about 2.5 litres of fuel to cook and occasionally heat the tent if the sun was not out. It would be enough to get me to the South Pole. I only have 7 days of food left now and am aiming to be at the Pole on the 19 January which assuming there are no weather problems is quite feasible as it is 162 km away. However, in the next 4 days I want to do 100 km just to add a comfort buffer. It means getting up earlier. I am afraid the blog might suffer, and become more perfunctory, but we will see how time goes. As I put my tent up a plane flew north in the distance. It was carrying Pierre, Bex and George and, I assume, Vincent Colliard back to Union Glacier, so the bush telegraph will be very depleted as they were part of the mainstay.

Day 55. Jan 13. S 88º32.724 W 081º46.847 to S88º45.800 W 081º53.839. 25 km. 11 hrs. 2770 Cal. Distance to Pole 138 km. Food Left 6 days. I woke naturally at 0400. The tent was warm, and the sun was out so I decided I might as well get up and make an earlier start. I had planned to do this anyway. It took me two and a half hours to get ready and set off which is a bit ridiculous really and I will have to be more efficient in the mornings. It was very cold when I packed up the tent, I reckon it was minus 30, but there was no wind which was lucky. I got very tired in the first session and almost got the “nods” where you are desperate to stay awake but can’t. Despite skiing and pulling the pulk, the experience is the same as when you are on a long drive and can’t keep your eyes open. At least then I would have had the chance to pull into a stopping place but there was not the same option here.

Since I came into the 88th degree the conditions have gradually got easier. I likened my first day in them like an ocean frozen in a force 4 just before the whitecaps start to break. Then it was a force 3 and yesterday was like a force 2 and very benign. Well today it was almost flat calm. This can only mean one thing and that is the prevalent winds in this area are gradually diminishing as I head up to the Pole. I would say this area seldom receives the big winds to create the sastrugi and dunes of the lower sections.

I had been going for a good hour when I noticed some cloud formations and mist to the east. I thought nothing of it until suddenly the snow lost its luminosity. I looked round and the sun was being swallowed by a large cloud. Not again I thought as I assumed I had finished with the compass now I had reached the sunlit uplands.

At the time I was experimenting with the neoprene facemask, as the Cold Avenger breathing mask produced so much moisture which ran down to my chest making the five layers of clothing damp. However, the neoprene FRX racing mask had its own issues and steamed up the goggles. As I was wondering how to revert back to the cold avenger the skies darkened, and a small wind appeared. It was absolutely freezing and despite having all my clothes on I could still feel the cold. It caught me unawares like a squall at sea while you are sunbathing. Luckily, I had a spare pair of goggles but as soon as I put them on, they started to fog up also. I decided to revert back to the partially frozen Cold Avenger. However, the switch over was fraught in the minus 30 with the wind. Eventually I managed but I sacrificed 2 pairs of gloves as they got covered in frozen condensed breath and got a bit wet. Eventually the switch to the breathing mask was complete and luckily my googles started to clear again.

The cloud only lasted for a couple of hours and then the sun returned. I caught myself starting to smile when the first shard of sun approached. I carried on to the south, coming across numerous ski tracks from my colleagues. Some I followed for a bit, others I ignored. They were no easier than the rest of the ice field. I noticed my pulk, which squeaked and crunched over the snow was starting to fall silent. I had climbed imperceptibly and was now at the 88th degree and 40 minutes and this was the end of the climb which had been going on the undulating steps from Thiel Fuel Cache. I was now going onto the Polar Plateau at last.

The snow was like castor sugar or sand, but it was not so abrasive as the same type of snow in the 86th degree. The grain of the snow was very small and almost powder. It was OK to ski on and it continues for the next 150 km all the way to the south pole. I skied perhaps another 10 km across the plateau till I hit the 25 km mark and then put the tent up. The snow was deep and loose, and the tent pegs would struggle if a wind arrived, so I used the skis as tent anchors. Since the squall passed early in the morning the weather had been nice again and now in the evening it warmed the tent and dried my damp clothing. It had been a great day and despite the tiredness I enjoyed the peace and solitude of the plateau, smooth and luminous bright, it was vast and almost seemed to follow the curvature of the earth like an ocean view does. If I had 6 more days like today, I would reach the pole before my food ran out.

Day 56. Jan 14.  S 88º45.800 W 081º53.839 to S 88º58.377 W 082º44.961. 24 km. 10.5 hrs. 2740 Cal. Distance to Pole 115 km. Food Left 5 days. I woke naturally at 0400 again and the sun was out. I was a bit quicker this morning and got away just after 0600. It was immensely bright outside on this Polar Plateau, yet far to the north where I had been in the last 2-3 weeks was cloud. I wondered if there were the same whiteout conditions there now, similar to the ones which had plagued me when I was there. The snow up here was like caster sugar again, but some people compared it to sand. It was quite a remarkable consistency and not unlike the snow of the 86th degree which was deep and abrasive. Except here it was not so abrasive and the pulk slid a bit more easily. However, I was never going to get any sort of glide on my skis before the end of the expedition as the snow was too sharp and granular. Perhaps even without a pulk I would have had little glide. So, I was resigned to plodding along for the next 5 days or 115 km. What was remarkable about the snow was the silence of it. Unusually the pulk runners squeak as they get dragged over the snow but with the Polar Plateau snow it was silent as if riding on a bed of feathers.

It was pretty flat all day according to my instruments, but I felt I was going uphill. I was quite fatigued. I thought perhaps I had some sort of illness or lethargy but had no fever. I felt very sleepy and could have easily put the tent up and fallen asleep at once. It was the same as yesterday. This was probably because I am not getting enough sleep. I ski for 11-12 hours, put up or take down the tent for 4 hours, cook for 2, blog for 1 and the remaining 5 hours are sleep. For most of the morning I felt slightly delirious and plodded along in automaton mode with my eyelids often heavy. Even when clouds came and blotted out the sun and the temperature plummeted to minus 30, I did not get any invigoration. Nor after the snacks or meal. It was only towards the end of the day after the last break that I became livelier. People might say, I bet you can’t wait to have a beer or pizza. Actually, nothing is further from my mind. What I am really looking forward to is falling asleep in front of the fire in my cosy living room with Fiona, my partner, practicing the piano in the corner.

I came across more tracks and even some campsites today. I think they were from Al and Dave- the ex-marines, and then later Robert and Per, 2 soloists from Poland and Sweden respectively who appear to have teamed up. They began from the Messner Start, which is slightly shorter and meets the Hercules Inlet route at Thiel Fuel Cache. Thereafter they would have done the rugged 86 and 87 degrees which I did. They are not on my bush telegraph but they seem to be averaging 18 km a day so I might catch them up. In the meantime, I am still last.

I was going to do 25 km today but as I reached 24, I saw a wave of castor sugar looming. It was not the climb which concerned me but the cold wind coming down the slope as the evening air chilled. This catabatic wind would have stripped any solar gain the tent was producing. So, I stopped well before the bottom of the slope. This slope rose up pretty much on the 89th degree and also coincided with the 2700 metre contour line. I got a message from Poppis saying he had recorded a temperature of minus 32 just up the slope. So that, and the catabatic wind, would have been fiendishly cold.

The tent was up quickly in the gentle, but bitter breeze and I was soon inside the tent feeling the sun on my face. Without the sun this expedition would have been very difficult. There would be no way to dry clothes or have a clear vision of the terrain. The forecast said sun, lots of it, for the next week, but the temperature would be about minus 30-35. With it minus 30 outside the temperature in the tent could be plus 20 and all that separated the two was a layer of ripstop nylon.

Tomorrow, I start the Last Degree. The others already have. There is a definite excitement in the air now with everybody remaining, about 9 of us about to finish in the next week. I plan to finish on the 19th of January primarily because that is when my food runs out. The forecast is good, 5 days is average for a degree and the last degree is relatively easy and flat, so it is within my sights. But things can always go wrong.

Day 57. Jan 15.  S 88º58.377 W 082º44.961 to S 89º11.566 W 082º19.116. 25 km. 10.5 hrs. 3010 Cal. Distance to Pole 90 km. Food Left 4 days. I woke at 0430, a bit later than I wanted but still OK as I was quite fast and still managed to set off by 0630. It was a beautiful morning with just a slight breeze but cold; very cold at below minus 30. As I got to the bottom of the slope that I had stopped before yesterday, the breeze started to pick up and it went from a force 2 to a 3. It really made a difference, and my fingers were getting cold, so I had to put the OR Alti Mitts on. As I skied south it appeared that this rise was just one of many rises. They were less than a kilometre apart and there must have been a down slope the other side of each rise. I barely noticed the ups and downs other than visually. It was like a huge mid ocean swell created by a distant storm. I must have crossed some 15 of them in the first 12 km.

The wind had now increased to a force 4 and the spindrift was certainly on the move, although it stayed close to the ground. The patterns it produced on the surface of the snow were just like sand where water was moving over it. There were ripples in the snow everywhere. Although this was a southern wind, I noticed that there were some dunes here, and these were all aligned South East – North West indicating a South East wind. These South East winds would have been cyclonic when large depressions from the Southern Ocean extended this far. They must have been ferocious weather events. Luckily, I just had to cope with this cold catabatic southerly wind as the cold air flowed downhill from the plateau. My wind soon increased again to force 4. The wind chill must have been in the minus 40’s. I had to change gloves again for the Redline Mitts. I have never been more thankful to Bjorn at Pitteraq in Oslo for thrusting them upon me. They are so warm and give instant respite.

In the UK when we say a “bitter wind” we probably have a cold easterly in February coming off the North Sea. However, this morning’s wind took that to a whole new level. It was more like an industrial blast freezer where food is rapidly frozen. If I took a finger sized chipolata sausage at room temperature and threw it on the ground here, I am sure it would be frozen solid in a couple of minutes.  A bare hand, perhaps 10 minutes, and a hand in my Hestra gloves, perhaps half an hour before there was frostbite. I had to plan every move that involved any dexterity and stopping for a snack or rehydrating the macaroni was out of the question. Hence, I did not stop for nearly 6 hours by which time I had done 13km. At one stage I could feel the cold even coming through the Redline Mitts and thought I would have to call it a day and put the tent up or risk frostbite. It was the most intense cold I think I have experienced. However, I managed to get the Redline Mitts into the poggies and that brought some respite.

After 6 hours the Force 4 had abated to a Force 2, and I took the opportunity to have the macaroni and hot chocolate. It was delicious and I managed to finish the cup of macaroni before it froze. This boosted my energy, and I did another 8 km with the wind easing all the time. I came across some tracks and worked out they were from Al and Dave and also from Robert and Per. They were just a day old but already covered in small dunes. It was not a great help to follow them as the new spindrift was more abrasive than the snow I was on. However, it did mean I could park my mind in neutral and not have to worry about navigation. I followed their tracks past their campsites and across more rolling swell until I had done 25 km. As yesterday I noticed a large wave or ridge to the south which would be the first thing tomorrow.

It was just a force 2 but still below minus 30 when I quickly put the tent up and went inside to sort myself out. My mask had frozen to my small beard which took a while to pull apart but the piece of drybag I had sewn onto the mask did seem to have diverted the moisture away from my chest. Despite the blast freezer raging outside at minus 30 the tent did get up to nearly 20 degrees inside which will dry my damp clothing. It had been a good day despite the wind and the most noticeable achievement was passing into the “Last Degree”. ALE and private firms run mini guided expeditions across the relatively easy but cold last degree which takes a week or so for those who want a shorter Antarctic adventure. But these had just finished for the season. At the scheduled 2100 ALE phone call I spoke to Louis Rudd who had just finished guiding a group for his company called Shackleton.

Day 58. Jan 16. S 89º11.566 W 082º19.116 to S89º25.296 W 081º44.483. 26 km. 11 hrs. 2740 Cal. Distance to Pole 65 km. Food Left 3 days. I woke at 0400 and left at 0630. Initially it was great but then a southerly wind developed. It was not as bad as yesterday but still one of the coldest days I have experienced. The whole day was similar to yesterday really except the wind was just low enough to give me the confidence to prepare the chocolate drinks and the lunch. I continued skiing over the vast undulating icefield which sat over the pole and spread out in every direction.

Around lunch I thought I spotted someone away in the distance, about 5 km away. Of course, it could just be my eyes playing tricks on me. But I lined it up with 2 distinctive patches of snow and it did in fact move. In fact, it seemed there were two people. It must be Robert and Per, Polish and Swedish respectively. They had started at the shorter Messner start and were going quite slowly. After some 4 hours I finally caught up with them when they camped early because Per’s foot was sore. I had not seen anyone since the end of November so as I approached the tents, I was anxious. It was indeed Robert and Per, and they came out to meet me. I suppose a snippet of social chat was all I could hope for in my “Man Friday” moment. However, it was very perfunctory. I would have been better going round them and saved the epiphany of social interaction for the camp at the South Pole. They took a few photos of me, and I skied off after 10 minutes.

I wanted 26 today and I got them. Once the tent was up, I did all the chores and then had my delicious Expedition Foods fish and potato. After the meal I tried to write but kept falling asleep so made the blog for today short and succinct.

Day 59. Jan 17. S 89º25.296 W 081º44.483 to S 89º38.363 W 081º17.103. 25 km. 11 hrs. 2610 Cal. Distance to Pole 40 km. Food Left 2 days. When I looked at my watch and it said 0400, I knew I had to get up, but I would dearly loved to have spent another 4-5 hours sleeping. I could see from the rippling on the tent there was a slight breeze, but the sun was out, and the tent was not cold. The solar gain of the tent is an absolute Godsend and without it this trip would be totally different with tens of litres of fuel to heat the tent and dry things.

I set off at 0630 and already the wind had dropped a bit as per the forecast. by lunchtime it had all but ceased. The view from my hermetically sealed face area and out of the goggles was almost of a tropical paradise with smooth white sand under an even light turquoise sky. It could have been a poster for a white sandy Hebridean beach or Whitehaven Beach in Australia. The “sand” was brilliant white, almost luminous, and it sparkled as I went along it. There was immense solitude and mystery here on the Polar Plateau nearly 3000 metres above sea level. It was quite a magical place. But then if you took a glove off or unsealed part of the face the reality of minus 30 soon made its presence felt with a stinging reminder.

As I skied my thoughts inevitably turned to finishing in a couple of days. There will be a team running the camp as a satellite from the main hub at Union Glacier. I wondered who was in that team as inevitably there would be someone there who I’d known previously or was a friend of a friend, either American, Norwegian, or British. Then there will be the “expeditioners”. Pierre and the FireAngels had already left but in their place will be Patrick the Canadian who I hung around with in Punta Arenas before we left. Then there would be the Finns who arrived at the South Pole today. Then Al and Dave (the ex-marines) and I would probably all arrive in 2 days. I should imagine the comradeship between us will be overwhelming. Apparently, Patrick has already said he would bring me breakfast in bed on the first morning. I am not looking forward to luxuries that much other than having time to relax and write. I don’t think I have had a whole day off since I thought I had badly damaged my knee and that was perhaps 7 weeks ago. I am also looking forward to the very simple things like having a chair to sit on or readily available hot water.

However I will also miss the daily expedition life and the routine I have established. Everything in the tent has a place and this order has evolved over the last 8 weeks. As long as the sun is out it gives me great joy to ski in Antarctica and I have enjoyed being in my bubble of exclusivity. But there have also been some significant hardships and it will be a delight not to contend with these for a while.

I did my 25 km by 1900 and then put the tent up. once inside I soon started to warm up as the evening sun shone onto the west side of the tent and radiated it heat. It was a very simple luxury, but I would not swap it for all the chocolate in Belgium. After the scheduled 2100 call with ALE I ate my delicious fish and potato stew and then wrote the blog but had difficulty staying awake. I still have 40 km to do which I hope to do the majority of tomorrow leaving me with a short day to finish on the 19th. All in all, it had been a great day, but I was tired and fatigued.

Day 60. Jan 18. S 89º38.363 W 081º17.103 to S 89º50.151 W 079º55.617. 22 km. 10 hrs. 2490 Cal. Distance to Pole 18 km. Food Left 1 days. When I looked at my watch it said 0300 so I rolled over for another hour. Unfortunately, I slept on to 0500 partially due to the tent being so warm due to the sun outside. I eventually got going at 0730. It was too late a start to do the intended 25 km, but it would be close. It was a beautiful, very bright and quite still morning and I had to vent the salopette legs to stop myself overheating despite the temperatures hovering around minus 30. From one horizon across to the other there was not a cloud in the light turquoise sky. There was just the sun in it. I have not seen the moon at all on this entire trip and it is something I will have to look up. Perhaps its orbit is in more restricted latitudes of say below 80 or even 70 degrees.

I split the day into four times 6 km sessions. On the first I approached the 2800 contour line and there was wave after wave of rolling ice waves to gently climb and then even more gently descent to reach the next. Each wave was about half a kilometre apart. The pulk felt heavy and difficult to pull or perhaps I had become quite feeble. It was now only about 50kg with a day’s worth of food and 2 litres of fuel. I tired very easily and also noticed how short of breath I was. It was nearly 3000 metres, but I had acclimatised in a text book manner and also at 3000 metres in the Himalayas I don’t have any issue. Maybe there was less oxygen in the air at the poles. I have not seen my torso for nearly 2 months as I never change clothes however, I notice the tremendous weight loss. I started probably 103 kg and I would say now I am approaching 80 kg. Just when the New Year’s resolution of Keto or Atkins or Huel diets are running into the sand in the general population with little to show may I recommend dragging a 100 kg sledge for 2 months across 1200km in Antarctica for guaranteed weight loss.

On the second session I felt a bit perkier as the waves eased off onto a very broad ridge. The weather had not changed but suddenly it felt colder. Much colder. I had my hand bare for 15 seconds doing something and it started to sting. I also noticed the cold suddenly creep through all my clothing. I have become used to it being minus 30 over the last week but this was much more, and it frightened me. An hour or two later I warmed up so I can only conclude it was a cold bubble of air that had dropped from a very high altitude. Like the opposite of a thermal. During its worst I had the redline mitts on and the poggies and still my fingers were cold.

During the third session I reached the top of the broad rise which the waves of the morning led up to and the skiing was easy. I think there was a slight descent because I was getting a glide on my skis here and there. In the distance I noticed 2 white stripes on the ice cap which looked a bit unusual. They could not be drifts. They were a long way away and perhaps there was some sort of mirage. it was warm enough now for me to take my phone camera out and I set it to 100 zoom and took a few photos. There were black things and when I looked with the eye again, I could make them out. Then it dawned on me it was the South Pole Station. There it is. THERE IT IS!! It was about 24 km away still but that was the South Pole and the end of my journey. I aimed to get there tomorrow.

From here there was a lovely barely perceptible descent for a couple of km down into a dip where the building disappeared. I stopped here for my snack and was amazed now how warm it was. I could virtually eat the whole energy bar without gloves on. This is what I would expect though on a sunny afternoon. I was going to do 6 km after the snack but in the end only did 4 km as I wanted the time to do the blog and enjoy a sunny evening in the tent. It was my last evening in the tent. I would miss the routine and order from boiling the kettle with my legs in the hole in the snow to then turning the stove off to retreat to the inner chamber which the sun had warmed nicely. I then had a host of things to do including eat my delicious dinner, check in with ALE, spread the solar panels out on the tent floor to charge, do some maintenance and write the blog. It was a routine which had developed over the last 60 nights which I have been in the tent consecutively. The tent has really been my home and I have got quite fond of it in the same way a prisoner might get fond of his cell. There is stability and order here while just outside is danger and chaos.

And so, I began my last night in the tent. Tomorrow I will be thrust back into society again having been detached from it for two months. During that time, I have virtually been entirely on my own like an ascetic monastic monk in a stone house on a rocky outcrop. I am usually a keen follower of current affairs, yet I know nothing about what has happened in the world since mid-November when Hamas launched an attack on Israel and Israel had just started to respond. I have lived in a complete cultural void where the only things that matter are the weather, snow condition, temperature, and visibility. It will be quite a shock to go back into society again after my supercharged Lent. I can imagine when I reconnect with my phone there will be over a thousand emails waiting for me but there will also be people to laugh and share jokes with and rejoice with and that excites me. I have done my time as a spiritual hermit and now it is time to re-enter society again. I have done it a few times in my life, not least with my 249 day Norway trip, but there is always an anxiety with change and change will happen tomorrow when I get to the South Pole Station. When I arrive there, I will be the oldest person to have skied solo to the South Pole and also the oldest person to have skied there unsupported. That is taking all my food fuel equipment and doing all my own repairs and maintenance without any outside help. I am pleased with that as it is quite an achievement for a 64 year old.

Day 61. Jan 19. S 89º50.151 W 079º55.617 to S 90º00.000 W 000º00.000. 21 km. 8 hrs. 2210 Cal. Distance to Pole 0 km. Food Left 0 days. I managed to get up a little after 0400 and the sun was shining into the tent heating the black insulation I had on the floor and this in turn was warming the tent and heating my boots. I packed everything and placed it all outside the vestibule and then turned and sat with my legs in the pit and looked inside my tent with some sadness. It had been very good to me and had been a solid and secure home for last two months. I then did the zip up of the inner for the last time and went out to pack the pulk. Although it was sunny there was a crescent of light grey cloud to the east. All the forecasts said it would be great today except for the one which I got on the Iridium Go. which said it would cloud over at 0900. Unfortunately, the Iridium Go forecast was the one I had leant was by far the most accurate and so it seemed today also.

I decided to split the day into 3 times 6 kilometres and have two breaks. At each break I would have the last of my food, a packet of macaroni cheese. The 1000 calories in each would power me through the day. The trouble was it was a faff to prepare with mitts on. It was lovely as I set off, but the crescent of low grey cloud was moving towards me like a dust storm consuming all as it swallowed it up in its misery. I braced myself for it as the joy of the morning started to fade and within a short time the lights had gone out and where there was once sparkling snow there was now just a dull uniform greyness. It was not a proper whiteout, the likes of which plagued the 86th degree for me, but a semi whiteout and I could still see 100 metres. Without the sun to temper the cold the temperature dropped considerably as the freezing fog enveloped me. When the 6 km mark came up for the first break, I thought it is just not worth getting cold for the sake of a bowlful of macaroni so decided to bin the break and just have one at 9 km.

The closer I got to the South Pole the more and more tracks there were. Just as you could not move anymore with crossing over a longitudinal line it was the same with ski tracks and even vehicle tracks left by scientific vehicles. Most of the ski tracks came from ALE or private groups doing the “Last Degree” to the South Pole. Given the poor visibility, I decided to follow one of them where I guessed some 20 skiers had been altogether. It was fast and easy. With the longitudinal degree lines, what was 60 minutes or 60 nautical miles on the equator, was now just tens of metres. I should have been able to see the South Pole buildings from here become imperceptibly closer with every kilometre but could not see them at all.

Beside the ski track I was following there had been a single skier a few metres off to the side. I went over and followed this track for a while. There were a few things I noticed about it. It was so shockingly straight it would have made a Roman Road look like a meandering country lane. The pole baskets of the skier hit the ground every 2 metres rather than every metre like mine, so this skier had a great glide and technique. The pulk they were towing was a Paris Pulk. I soon deduced it was the track of Vincent Colliard who passed this way a week ago on his record-breaking speed run. he was making his own track as he did not want his record questioned. His technique was simply superb.

At 9 km I did stop for my macaroni and as predicted I did get cold. I could feel the minus 30 even creep into my boots with the separate liners and 2 pairs of socks. I could feel it permeate 6 layers on top and 4 on my legs and I could certainly feel it come through the mitts. However, once I had the macaroni inside me I felt empowered and sped off to try and warm up again. After a quick 4 km, almost racing an imaginary Colliard beside me on his razor-sharp track, I had warmed up again. Then out of the grey, to the west of the track, appeared some small structures with flags on. I assumed these were scientific data or collection points. They continued for a kilometre or so when the freezing fog started first to thin and let some more light in and then to lift slightly. Suddenly before my eyes some 2 kilometres away the South Pole Base Station, dozens of small scientific structures, a large telecoms dish and the brightly coloured tents of ALE’s South Pole Camp appeared. ALE’s camp was about half a kilometre to the east of the South Pole Base Station, and it was my immediate destination. All the ski tracks were leading to it like spokes on a wheel. I had been told when I got to it someone would come out to meet me and point me in the direction of the South Pole itself.

It took a short hour to reach ALE’s brightly coloured camp, almost a pageant in contrast to the stark authoritarian structure of the US administered Amundsen Scott South Pole Station.  I can imagine someone in the ALE camp saw me and announced “incoming single skier with pulk” as soon an ALE jeep came out to meet me. The camp manager Cedar from Whitehorse and his good friend Devon from South BC, Canada, got out and strolled over to intercept me. I recognised both from Union Glacier 2 months ago. It seemed appropriate that Devon should welcome me as he was the person who put me in touch with ALE (Antarctic Logistics and Exploration) 8 months ago when I first enquired about an adventure in Antarctica. There was a hearty handshake and congratulations, but I was covered in ice and did not want to take my mask or goggles off because it would take so long to realign everything. They pointed me in the direction of the Ceremonial South Pole and the Geographical South Pole which were adjacent to each other a short kilometre away up an icy road. They told me to go there, and they would come up in 15 minutes and meet me and take photos and then drive me and the pulk back.

I went up to the flags of the Ceremonial South Pole and as I got there Devon arrived in the ALE truck. There were more handshakes and then he took some 30 photos of me getting his hands cold in the process. We then walked over to the Geographical South Pole a few hundred metres away and I set off my check in to register the 90-degree reading. I walked round the world a couple of times and stood with one foot in one time zone and the other in a time zone twelve hours ahead. Devon took more photos. Then we loaded the pulk onto a trailer and I climbed into the truck and drove the short km back to ALE’s camp. Here Devon showed me a large yellow tent with 2 beds, a heater, 2 chairs, and a table in and said it was mine. I could stand up in it and the warmth was fantastic, both solar and the kerosene heater. I put my bedding on the pack on the bare mattress and then went into the main dining and kitchen tent.

As I went in there was a cheer and people came forward congratulate me. First were the two ex-marines Alan Chamber and his friend Dave who arrived a few hours ahead of me. Then Anna, a delightful and calm Kiwi from Te Anau, who gave me an enormous and warm hug, and then Twitty, a Malaysian cook from Sabah. Along with Cedar and Devon, we were the only people here. I had just missed Patrick and Poppis and the Finns who flew back to Union Glacier as I was arriving. I sat with Al and Dave and had a huge plate of food and soft drink. There was beer here too, but it would make me too sleepy.

I spent the afternoon basking in the euphoria of that dining tent and the seemingly unlimited supply of luxuries of soft drinks, chocolate, and great company. Alan and Dave were in a similar mood and had the sparkle of victory in their very blue eyes. Alan was a Polar veteran and had many North Pole last degree trips under his belt and a few South Pole ones too. He knew everybody and one of his last trips had been to bring the founding owners of Google to Antarctica for a solar eclipse and they were now his personal friends. I had been in contact with Al and Dave almost daily via a Garmin Inreach message and they had helped keep me motivated during my darkest days in the whiteouts in the 86th degree. How lovely it was now to bask with them in the victory of this warm convivial tent looked after by Cedar, Devon, Anna and Twitty the most warm, considerate and delightful hosts. Cedar and Devon were both polar guides and had done this trip so they could empathise with us.

Soon Twitty announced dinner was ready and served us a fusion of Malaysian inspired beef curry and chicken and then the 7 of us, 4 staff and 3 guests ate together. It was the most perfect evening and it only got better when Al produced a bottle of single malt, Wolfburn 46%, from Thurso which the 7 of us shared. I eventually went to bed just after 2100 into my warm spacious tent having been told breakfast was at 1000 the next day. As usual I went to bed fully dressed in 3 layers of leggings and 5 tops. Initially I slept well but then woke after midnight absolutely boiling as if I had fallen asleep in a greenhouse in the mid-afternoon in the middle of a heatwave. The trouble is I could not get my tops off. All the zips were stuck in the done-up position where they had been for the last 8 weeks and then were eroded by salt and time. I eventually forced them off but nearly ripped my ears off. The mesh of the Brynje under garments had left diamond impressions on my torso. I was pleased to see my arms had not withered as much as I feared. after that I fell back asleep and slept well until the alarm went at 0500. The joy of hitting the “dismiss” button should not be underestimated and I slept for another 4 hours.

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October 14, 2023

Day 40. Dec 29.  S 86º00.335 W 081º14.560 to S 86º11.000 W 081º20.082.  20 km. 10.5 hrs. 3110 Cal. It had been snowing a light drizzle through the night and it was still doing so in the morning. Perhaps 2 cm had accumulated on the pulk. It was not flakes or even polystyrene like beads but more of a fine dust, as if someone had thrown icing sugar around. I set off at 0700 and immediately knew I would be splitting the day into four 5 km sessions rather than 6 as it was heavy going from the off.

The 86 degree is renowned for having deeper soft snow, similar to what I was skiing on. There was probably a climatic explanation, but it might be that this region gets a lot of freezing fog, and this produces the fine snow particles which just accumulate. These small snow particles like icing sugar grip the runners of the pulk and don’t let it pass easily. I found that there were also some slightly glazed ridges amongst the beds of deep soft snow and these ridges ran in the same direction I was going, namely south. If I kept to the ridges, it was much easier, but it was not easy to link them up. Although it was nearly a whiteout the sun was there as a diffuse ball trying to shine through a thin layer of fog. This fog or low cloud persisted all day but the diffuse ball in the sky was there most of the tie also. It was a kind of semi whiteout and the snow had little contrast, but I could see at least 100 metres.

I pulled and pulled the pulk all day gradually getting more and more tired. It was exhausting work. I felt like a large plough horse pulling a 3 bladed plough through an everlasting field of sorbet. As the day wore on the more tired, I got. I suppose this is what it was like to be a slave or a prisoner in a work camp where you get up and toil all day, day after day, until the labour takes its toll. However, this usually takes years, and it is quite unbelievable really how resilient the human body is. I was toiling but I was well nourished and there was also a goal insight just in 3 weeks or so. My lot was really nothing like a slave or prisoner of war, but it was taxing, and I was working at full steam really.

At last, the 20 km was up and I found a nice firm sheet of neve snow on which to pitch the tent. It was up in 20 minutes, and I was soon inside getting the stove going. It takes a good hour to melt and boil enough snow for the next 24 hours. After that I retreated to the inner tent and got onto my sleeping bag and made a chair from the thermarest. It was the best time of the day, just about to have my delicious Expedition Foods fish and potato stew, which I could never tire of. Their lunch time Mac and Cheese is wearing a bit thin though. After that the bush telegraph messages start coming in about who had an easy day and who had a tough one. It seems that most people in this neck of the woods were having the same problem with the soft abrasive sand like snow. Not Pierre though he had finally broken through the giant sastrugi and dunes of snow and was just on the Polar Plateau. He had some 200 km of flattish skiing to do to reach the South Pole. For me it had been a hard day with little rewards or view, but I was another 20 km closer to the pole. I would sleep well tonight.

Day 41. Dec 30. S 86º11.000 W 081º20.082 to S  86º17.916 W 081º22.555. 13 km. 9 hrs. 2470 Cal. It was snowing a light drizzle when I woke and packed. The pulk had about 5 cm of new snow on it with the consistency of castor sugar (where I previously wrote icing sugar, I meant castor sugar). Once I was hitched into the harness and had taken my first steps, I knew today was going to be hard. To make it more bearable mentally I kept it in 4 sessions but dropped the kilometres in each one to 4 kilometres. As it turned out even that was too much. It was a fiendish haul and I had to really work hard. The first kilometre took an hour and cost me 300 calories. I became a bit despondent about it all and morale slipped to a low ebb. In the last week since leaving Thiel Fuel Cache it has virtually been poor weather the whole time. The sun has not made many appearances, but the whiteouts and the fine snow has continued almost unabated. It is sapping my joy and from what I can make of the weather forecast there is still a couple more days of overcast snowy weather to come. I also was a bit annoyed that the others were now days ahead of me. They were in teams with much lighter pulks, and they could also take it in turns to plough through.

I had hoped to do a degree in every 5 days, which is an average of about 22 km per day but there is no way I can manage that in these conditions. After nearly 3 hours I had only done 3 km and I was already quite exhausted so had my first break. It had at least stopped snowing now and the whiteout was quite half hearted really. For the rest of the day the weather did improve and as it did, I could feel my mood lift. Towards the end of the day there was plenty of blue sky and I could put my compass away and rely on distant cloud formations as a bearing. My usually ordered system of breaks went out of the window as I ploughed on, and they became quite random and almost chaotic as I had to stop nearly every kilometre for a rest. I could feel some aches and pains but interestingly not in my right knee. My pulk weight including the pulk was still about 75 kg and of that only about 30kg was food and fuel now. I think I am still a good week or two from that magic tipping point when I can easily overcome the resistance. A bit like a motorboat labouring away until suddenly it breaks free and starts to plane on the water.

I heard from others ahead that this degree becomes easier after the halfway point with firmer snow again. That means I probably still have another two days of hard work before I get there. If it continues like this much more, it will cost me my “unsupported” status as I will probably need a re supply somewhere on the Polar Plateau but that is still a long way off. A resupply would not be the end of the world for me, but had I decided to go “supported” the whole way I could have had a 50 kg lighter pulk on average and a lot less worry over my equipment failing. The Finns did this and have been living the dream with entrecote and chardonnay. I stopped early at 1730 as I thought there was a danger of damaging some muscles especially in my right lower leg. As I put the tent up the sun came out and it soon warmed the tent. In fact, it was a lovely evening in the tent and the temperature in the drying rack got up to 31 degrees and the solar panels were working overtime after a leisurely week for them. The sun makes all the difference to the mood too and I was content in the evening.

Day 42. Dec 31. S 86º17.916 W 081º22.555 to S 86º27.544 W 081º27.525. 18 km. 9 hrs. 2290 Cal. It was a warm and sunny night. The tent was warm, and everything was crisp and dry. The solar chargers had filled both batteries in the night. The tent life in the morning was pleasant as it was about 20 degrees in the tent. When I emerged, it was to a wall-to-wall light blue sky, a very mild turquoise almost like a watercolour wash. The snow was a brilliant white and without my goggles I would have almost been blinded by it. The weather had instantly changed my mood for the better. There had been no wind in the night and my footsteps around the tent, some 15 cm deep were still fresh. As I put on the yoke and started to pull, the pulk felt heavy and I decided to go for four times 4.5 kilometres today making a total of 18. It is what most of the others managed in this quagmire of caster sugar.

As I was doing the first session the icesheet rose up to a higher plateau to around 1800 metres. On this rise there must have been some catabatic winds descending from the 1800 plateau as there was little snow here on the firm neve and skarve surface. My ski poles squeaked as they twisted on the firm surface. There was also some small sastrugi around, but it was quite light. The pulk slid easily across the hard surface and I could climb quite quickly. However, it was only a couple of kilometres over an hour or so and soon I was on the shelf above and the deep caster sugar returned.

It continued like this for the rest of the day with me stopping every 2-2.5 hours for a break. As far as the eye could see it was a smooth even surface to the distant horizons. The horizon itself was huge and well delineated. Above was the turquoise water colour wash and below the brilliant white smooth snow, which I though took of some of the turquoise from above. Occasionally I came across the tracks of Poppis and the Finns who passed here two days previously, but they were buried under 10 cm of new snow, and I quickly lost them again.

At the breaks I had to swap my gloves for mitts as it was much colder now. I also put on my Decathlon duvet jacket over my main Shackleton jacket and the harness. That way I kept warm while sitting on the pulk. During the last session a wisp of hazy cloud appeared and occasionally covered the sun. It was the next batch of poor snowy weather arriving and it was forecast to last 2 days. Hopefully I would be out of this wind still area where the snow accumulated with being compressed into firmer snow by the wind. After this inclement weather for the next couple of days, which was bound to be in a whiteout, the forecast looks good. At 18 km I stopped and put up the tent. There was no sun now, so it was not that warm until I brought the stove inside the inner tent. It did not take long before it was roasting. I ate my supper sitting up feeling the warmth pumping out from the stove. On the bush telegraph this evening I have not heard from Pierre but with both his bindings damaged but just usable he is pushing for the South Pole on the Polar Plateau now. Poppis and the Finns, the FireAngels, and the ex-marines Al and Dave, are all ahead by a day or 3 and are in better conditions now and all three groups are preparing for the big 1000 metre climb to the Polar Plateau. Theis climb of 1000 metres is over some 150 kilometres, so the gradients are not that steep, but significant. Today had been a nice way to finish off the year.

Day 43. Jan 1. S 86º27.544 W 081º27.525 to S 86º38.000 W 081º37.741. 20 km. 10.5 hrs. 3150 Cal. From my sleeping bag I could hear it was quite windy outside and the tent buffeted a bit. But it was just a mild gale and not anything like a storm and I could not afford a day off.  When I emerged from the tent, having packed everything, I thought “is this wise?”. It was like Ice station Zebra again. If someone had said to me I would do 20 km today I would never have believed them. It was also cold, perhaps minus 15, and the windchill was terrific. I carefully took the tent down using the security painter in case a gust took it from my hands and packed it too and got out the compass. I would have liked to have taken a photo, but it would have been too cold on my fingers, which now look like a clerics rather than a bricklayers, as I lose weight.

With the compass mounted I set off and luckily the wind was almost at my back coming from the NE. I was well covered up. The Shackleton salopettes, which are amongst my favourite bits of kit, really do a great job in keeping my legs warm and the jacket with the fake fur ruff protect my top half face beautifully. The terrain was still sandy snow like caster sugar. The skis would not keep a straight line or stay that level and my boots and ankles were twisting sideways frequently. However, there were often patches where the snow was firmer, and I could ski here and was delighted how well the pulk was on this firmer snow. I decided to go for four 5 km sessions and by the time I reached the first the wind had eased from a force 6 to a 4. It was still bitter in it.

On the second, third, and fourth sessions the snow got progressively firmer, and the skiing was much easier. I had to put the “Cold Avenger” face-mask on as the sunburn on my lips was being affected by the cold. It too is another favourite bit of kit. I suddenly saw my blurry shadow and looked round and there was the haze hidden sun behind a thin layer of cloud. It came and went all day except in the morning, when it was a total white out, the visibility remained tolerable. I climbed steadily all day and barely noticed it and by the time I reached 20 km I had climbed to 1900 metres over sea level. Which partly explains the bitter cold. I still have another 1000 metres to climb over the next 10 days or so to reach the Polar Plateau.

It is almost habit now, but it is amazing to just stop at a random spot on this vast ice sheet take out the tent and put it up and then some 20 minutes later I am sitting with my legs in a hole while the stove is melting snow. Then I retire into the inner tent, which is my home, and the bitter cold of the outside is soon forgotten. After my scheduled call to ALE at 2100 hours I write the blog and send it to my friend, Ruth, to proofread and publish. The day has a rigid structure and routine and without that I think things would unravel quite quickly.  On the bush telegraph both Pierre and Poppis had equipment failures which they are both hoping to fix. The FireAngels, Bex and George, are now into the middle of the 87th degree where the climbs are steep and the sastrugi of biblical dimensions. Al and Dave, the ex-marines are about 25 km ahead of me and keep sending me words of encouragement which was needed after the last week of poor weather and difficult snow. All in all, it had been an OK day, and I am slowly chipping away at the distance. It is now only 375 km to go, and I still have 17 day’s worth of food left.

Day 44. Jan 02. S 86º38.000 W 081º37.741 to S 86º48.765 W 081º45.469.  21 km. 9.5 hrs. 2450 Cal. Sometime in the early morning the sun must have come out as it was hot in the tent. I was still in my minus 30 sleeping bag so was in effect being slowly roasted. As a result, I did not wake naturally around 0500 but nearer 0600 and I felt a bit groggy, almost hungover. The sun stayed out while I breakfasted, packed, and for the first hour or so of the day. The skiing in the morning was great and it was firm and even. I decided to go for 3 sessions of 7 km each so I would only have two breaks instead of three. Ahead of me I could see a great wave of ice. It looked like a frozen tsunami towering some 50-100 metres above. To get to the base of it there was actually a bit of shallow downhill and then the climb up the wave started. It was 100 metres, and it took about an hour. The climb was on hard snow and even bare ice which was fissured with narrow cracks 1-2 cm wide caused by the buckling of the ice sheet as it slowly flowed down here. The pulk glided beautifully on it and despite going up, felt light. It was so different to the last week when I was in a quagmire of soft white sugary snow which clawed at the pulk. I felt like a fruit fly which had inadvertently landed in the middle of bowl of syrup and after a week of wading through it finally reached the rim of the bowl.

Despite the effort of the climb up the tsunami it was nice to have some topography again after a bland flat week. Near the top of the climb, I had my first break just as the forecast clouds and snow were coming in on the bitter NE wind. From my selection of gloves and mitts I had finally found a great solution to this cold for my fingers. I had removed the liners from OR Alti Mitts and this allowed me to use my OR Backstop Sensors inside them. Then I put both into the poggies so in effect I had 3 layers. If I needed to do something dexterous, I could just slip my gloved hand out of the mitt for a minute or five and then reinsert it into the warm mitt lining later.

On the second session the weather deteriorated to just short of a complete white out. However, the surface was even, and I could just plod along. Both the sky and snow were a dull grey but the sky was slightly darker so there was fuzzy horizon. There was little to see on the snow’s surface and any pitfall was only noticed at the last minute, but there were very few. One of the biggest problems skiing in a near whiteout was what to do with the mind. It would not go dormant and passive but just kept churning round and round on usually banal thoughts. Once it started on a chain of negative thoughts It was difficult to turn it around to happy thoughts again. One recurring theme was constantly calculating how much food I had, versus how many kilometres, versus how much time I needed, versus average kilometres per day. “Doing the Math” as people on the Pacific Crest Trail used to say. I think long distance hikers do a lot of it and it is dull. Perhaps that is why they listen to podcasts to have a more structured chain of thought rather than random thoughts in a chaotic chain reaction.

During the third session the whiteout cleared, and it was more like sporadic pockets of snow showers coming through. There was always one horizon which was clear even if the other 3 were blurred. I kept my compass mounted in front of me as without it I was like a moth to the sun. Within the space of 15 seconds, I could inadvertently turn 90 degrees without knowing it. It was only when I looked at the compass again that I realised. I also use my Garmin Fenix watch a lot to navigate. It has the course plotted on it and my position too and I just keep on one or the other. It also tells me how far I have done and much more useful information like whether I am ascending or not. Just as I was approaching the end of the day, I started on another shallow but sustained climb from the shelf or plateau I had been on up to the next level. I only did a part of it when I hit 21 km much earlier in the day than I thought.

I had the tent up and stove on by 1900 just as the sun came out fully to warm the tent. It was a lovely evening for me with some warmth and the clothes, hardly damp with sweat, drying on the rack. I had macaroni for supper for a change as over the last few days I have been rationing the odd portion here and there, especially the lunch time macaroni which is a palaver to prepare in a cold wind. But doing this I have collected an entire day’s worth, so I still have 16 day’s worth; one to finish this degree and 5 for each of the next 3 degrees. A degree is 112 km for those who like to “do the math”. At the scheduled 2100 call to ALE I give my position and then have a small 2-3 minute chat.  Sometimes there is someone from the ALE family of employees there to offer encouragement and support after the call. Tonight, it was Preet Chandri, polar superstar, on the phone to chivvy me along to the Pole. They are a very thoughtful bunch at Union Glacier and indeed the Polar Community in general.

Day 45. Jan 03. S 86º48.765 W 081º45.469 to S 86º57.102 W 081º50.543. 16 km. 8 hrs. 2290 Cal. I could hear it was a nasty day from the comfort of my sleeping bag. It took great discipline to get up because I knew what lay in store. There was yet another weather front coming in and it would mean snow, whiteout, and a cold wind. None the less I had to get something on the scorecard for today. When I went out at 0700 it was as bad as I feared with virtually no visibility, snow and a stream of spindrift flowing like water round a boulder when it hit the tent. There was a large drift on the upwind side of the tent and the snow valances around the tent were buried. Rather than burden myself with something unfeasible I said I would try and do 4 sessions each of 4 kilometres. I thought it was quite manageable. Just as I started, I noticed a tiny air bubble in the compass.

The first session was quite arduous as it continued uphill on the hard snow and drifted snow which was almost dune like. I saw nothing of it nor when I was about to walk into it until I was on it. It was a total white out and all I could see were my skis and the compass on the mount. There was no horizon at all. The trouble with this total white out is you can’t see the change in terrain or the small ridges or dunes and so you can’t plan accordingly, you just stumble into it. So, it took 2 hours to do the first session. My skis slipped on the harder patches and then got bogged down in the small dunes. All I could do was keep moving forward. As an experiment I closed my eyes for a minute and kept skiing. It did not make any difference at all. It was the same with all the sessions today except some had quite benign terrain where I could step forward more confidently. I spent the entire day watching my compass bubble grow until it was about the size of a lentil.

I kept thinking about the weather and why it was like this at the moment. Perhaps it was affected by El Nino, which influenced the Atlantic also, or perhaps it was just a bad run of low pressures in the Southern Ocean and these ones were big enough to encroach onto Antarctica also. If they did then the northeast winds (the equivalent of the northern hemisphere south westerly) would bring in moisture which would be swept inland and condense and fall as precipitation as it rose and the 86th degree is where it rose. Maybe it was a bit like a cloud forest in warmer climes where moisture laden air would rise up in the mountains and condense leaving the mountains above dry and sunny. Maybe that is the case here too where the moisture falls here in the 86th and 87th degree leaving the Polar Plateau dryer and sunnier. Hopefully not as elusive and fictitious as the Sunlit Uplands of Boris Johnson.

As I closed in on my 16 km in the whiteout, I thought that if any normal people had seen me, they would want me sectioned or locked up for my own good. Here was a solo person on a vast glacier in a whiteout with the nearest other people, Al and Dave, some 30 kilometres away. And yet to me now it felt quite normal. It’s what I had been doing for the last 6 weeks and what I would be doing for the next 2. Perhaps I was suffering from a kind of Stockholm Syndrome where I felt some benevolence to my kidnappers. When the weather is good, I thoroughly enjoy it, but this run of snowy and misty weather is beginning to test my patience. However, from the small forecasts I can get on my devices it seems good weather is just round the corner.

I had wanted to make it to the 87th degree but that would have meant another 3 hours skiing and a late finish. So as planned I stopped at 16 km and put the tent up. it was cold here now I was at 2100 metres. It was perhaps minus 18 outside but in the wind, it felt considerably more. There was no sun, so the tent was cold but after melting the snow I brought the stove inside and it quickly warmed the interior and started to dry some of the damp clothing. It had not been a great day, yet I had done 16 km and climbed some 150 metres too apparently although I never noticed it. The bush telegraph was very quiet, and I think everyone had an early finish and then an early bed.

Day 46. Jan 04. S 86º57.102 W 081º50.543 to S 87º08.805 W 082º27.146. 24 km. 11.5 hrs. 3790 Cal. The iridium weather forecast said it would be 5 days of sun from this morning and I could see and feel from inside the tent it had already started. However, it was to be cold, about minus 22, and there would be a force 4-5 wind for the whole period. When I went outside to pack, the sky was perfectly blue, a light azure, but it was cold, very cold. I decided to be ambitious today and go for 4 sessions of 6 km and see if I could make 24 in total. However, the snow was clinging at the pulk. It was if I was dragging it through iron filings, especially the deeper sections. There had been snow on and off for the last 8 days and it had not really settled yet or got a glaze.

The first session was quite easy except for the sluggish snow but it took 3 hours just to do 6 km. I started at about 2100 metres height and climbed frequently over waves of ice as they flow in super slow motion down from the plateau. There was the odd bit of negligible downhill on the south side of the wave before a gentle climb of on average 20 metres or so to the next. Each wave seemed 2 km apart. Going up the wave the wind had generally blown the snow off the firmer fissured ice, so it was much easier than the flatter parts where it settled.

It was so cold my glove system of OR backstop, then the outer shell of the OR Alti Mitt and then the poggie was not really enough. I had something else at the ready which I was keeping for the plateau but thought it wise to use it now. It was the Mountain Equipment Redline Mitt. They were too big for the poggies but the small OR backstop fitted inside them. They were fantastically warm, and I was so pleased I brought them.

It was a delight to be able to see everything again. The cold and the wind were a small sacrifice to pay to be able to appreciate where I was on this vast rolling ice sheet. My mood soared and I was optimistic again. If I could just push hard for these 5 predicted good weather days, I should be through the infamous 87 Degree and almost on to the flatter gentler Polar Plateau.

At the third break it was just too windy, and I would have got too cold preparing my drink. I thought it was getting on also and it would be better to do just another 4 km in which case I could skip the hot chocolate drink, which I did. A bit further on I came over another wave and could see a great frozen tsunami rearing up ahead. It was the slope up to the 2200 metres contour line. Unfortunately, my 4 km would take me halfway up it but, that was acceptable I thought. However, there was a small valley of ice between it and the wave I was on. I had a nice 5-10 minute downhill run and sometimes had to ski fast so the pulk would not catch me up and bash into my legs. The valley was quiet and sunny with little wind and in hindsight I should have stopped here. It had some strange snow formations which I had heard ALE refer to as dunes. I previously dismissed it as perhaps a mis translation between American and British English, but I was wrong. There were actual dunes of snow some 2-3 metres high. I wove a path through them and then started climbing the tsunami up to the 2200 metre contour. It was OK in the sunlight but would have been a nightmare in a whiteout. There was sastrugi everywhere, however it was quite small and between the sastrugi were smooth hard sheets of bare snow which was almost ice. I carried on up with the wind getting up to a force 4, then a 5, and finally a 6. I did my 22 km but there was nowhere to camp, so I went on, and on, and on and there was still nowhere. As I climbed, I was drawn like a moth to the west as it was easier. I had to veer this way anyway so did not fight it. But I could not find anywhere, and the wind was not abating as it often does with catabatic winds as you climb. Eventually at nearly 2000 I decided I’d just have to camp here in the flow of spindrift which was flowing down from above. I found a section which had settled spindrift on the bare ice as I needed to use my skis at tent pegs in this wind.

It took me nearly an hour to put the tent up as I had to be neurotic about not losing anything to the wind. I certainly could not catch it again and I doubt Usain Bolt would have been able to. A super Redline mitt or a tent bag would have soon been swept away. However, at last it was all up using the 4 skis and all the pegs bar two which I kept to anchor the pulk drag line. Then began my favourite part of the day to light the stove and derobe after a good day. I was however shocked at the amount of ice around my face, balaclava, buff, and the cold avenger breathing mask. They were all frozen together and then also into my small beard. I had only just started to boil the kettle when I had to make the phone call for the scheduled check in which was one of the reasons I had to camp because the phone was packed and operating it in the cold wind was not that feasible. If I missed that phone call alarm bells would start to ring, and people would be initially concerned and then start to take action. As it happened, I did do the 24 km I set out to do but it had thrown my evening routine out of the window and instead of sleeping at 2200 it was midnight. Even at midnight the sun continued to warm the tent, but the force 5 wind cooled it.

Day 47. Jan 05. S 87º08.805 W 082º27.146 to S 87º18.649 W 083º28.926. 20 km. 9.5 hrs. 3160 Cal. It remained windy all night although it dropped from force 6 to force 4 in the morning. A huge pile of snow had drifted in the lee of the tent, and I almost had to dig my way out. I was both physically and mentally tired after yesterday’s late finish and I felt it in the first steps. I decided to go for 4 times 5 km today. The next waypoint was about 40 km to the south and it was called SkiSP West 2014. However, to the east of this was a crevassed area and this waypoint was the most easterly we could go, we should stay west from it. I also had information from the most experienced Norwegian Expedition organiser of the last 25 years that it was far better to go much further west to W080?30.000. That way the climbs were not so steep and the sastrugi was smaller and you were well away from and potential crevasses. So, I decided to veer west to this waypoint, which was some 8 km west of SkiSP West 2014, and then come back east again and join the ALE route some 30-40 km to the south. So as soon as I left camp, I started to navigate towards this alternative waypoint still some 40 km away.

Initially I had to continue to climb. It was not too bad as the winds had swept much of the loose snow and spindrift off this area leaving hard snow. The ski skins adhered to it but the pulk runner glided nicely over it making it easy work for me. It was cold, still minus 20, and the wind chill was significant, but I was well covered up. The main thing was it was bright and sunny and the windchill was a small price to pay to be able to see the snow and ice and the wind carved formations. The sastrugi was quite minimal really and at the top of the gentle climb, at around 2200m, it disappeared. Instead, what I got was flat fields of firmer snow which was compacting and between these areas of looser softer snow which the pulk sank into a little. Both seemed to adhere to the pulk but more so the latter.

And it continued like this throughout the day with undulations and gentle climbs. In all I went from about 2200 metres to 2300 metres which seems to be the way of things at the moment. The only real issues were doing intricate tasks like preparing lunch or tent work where dexterity was needed, and I could not use the mitts. The cold was overpowering and would chill a bare hand very quickly. It was also a nuisance with the breathing mask. The vapour in my breath condensed outside it and ran to the apron under the breathing aperture and froze. It froze my breathing mask to my balaclava and then froze the balaclava to my nearly 2 cm long beard and jacket zip. At the end of the day, I had to prise it all apart. It was certainly a novel way to shave, a bit like waxing.

As the day wore on and I had my breaks in the sun with the bitter wind to my back the force of the wind dropped so rather than a horizontal cascade of spindrift like last night there were just some wispy tendrils of it, usually down wind of sastrugi formations. I found a place to camp as soon as the 20 km mark came up and put the tent up without the stress of a near gale. It was sunny and after the tent was up but before I brought my stuff in, I dug a hole in the vestibule for my feet. As I dug, I could fell the warmth in the tent and it pleased me I would have a warm evening to dry out the stuff, especially the face mask and goretex shell.

There was not much chat on the garmin messenger bush telegraph other than that Pierre had just 40 km to go and was within touching distance of becoming the youngest person to ski to the South Pole. His anticipated success is a great victory for him as he had a fuel shortage and broken and failing bindings. Poppis and the Finns are doing well and were saying it is twice as cold in Finland with temperature of minus 44.4. If there is one people that can look after themselves in the cold, it is the Finns. The FireAngels are on the plateau some 5 days ahead of me and Al and Dave I assume are 2 days ahead.

Day 48. Jan 06. S 87º18.649 W 083º28.926 to S 87º29.236 W 084º24.713. 21 km. 10.5 hrs. 3150 Cal. It was windy and even colder in the morning. minus 22 with a force 4 wind. I put everything on before I went out. It was fiendishly cold, probably the coldest I have ever experienced. I have camped in minus 41 in Sweden but when it is so cold in Scandinavia it is calm. I had the redline mitts on and I was not taking them off even for a photo. I set off at 0700 and aimed to be at a waypoint 22 km away by evening so split the day into 4 times 5 km.

The skiing was quite rough and the snow abrasive, but I ploughed up the first hill gaining some 40 metres to reach the first stop. I was hermetically sealed from the cold but eating and drinking were vulnerable times. The drink I mixed up at breakfast was already in its Nalgene bottle but as I tried to drink it it turned to a slush puppy before my eyes. The bottom 3 cm froze before I could drink it.

At the next break I decided it was too much palaver to make the Macaroni and Cheese. I would get sore fingers at the best and frostbite at the worst. I had the hot chocolate drinks and that was energy enough. The Macaroni can go towards an extra day’s food I was slowly collecting.

The third and fourth session were long. I did not notice it, but my balaclava was over my mouth and all the condensate was running down it onto my 4 chest layers soaking them. A km short of the waypoint I had done 21 km and was exhausted so threw in the towel at the top of a climb to reach 2400 metres. It took a while to put the tent up in the force 5 but by 1930 hrs I was ensconced in a sunny tent. Unfortunately, the wind did not allow for a heat to build up. I did the fortnightly refilling of the 3 litre fuel bottles which should see my out and I still had another 2 litres in reserve.

I was very tired, hence the short blog, but I have 3 more days anticipated good weather and want to get to the Polar Plateau in that time. It means 20-24 km per day for the next 3. It would be a nightmare going through this terrain in a whiteout but a joy in these conditions when you can see. Pierre, against all the odds, is camped 11 km from the pole and will become the youngest to ski to the Pole unsupported. He is just 26.

Day 49. Jan 07. S 87º29.236 W 084º24.713 to 87º38.617 W 083º30.219. 19 km. 10 hrs. 2720 Cal. I knew what was in store today and indeed the next 3 days. It was to continue up the undulating wavy ice gaining about 100 metres per day. If I did 20-22 km each day, I should finish with the infamous 87th degree in 3 days. The weather forecast looked promising except maybe for the last day. However, it remained cold at about minus 22 and the wind was a force 4 on average. It would make everything significantly more challenging and slower as I had to do things with mitts on rather than gloves.

The slope up to the Polar Plateau and the 88th degree was not a steady gradient at all. It had the same profile as a wavy water slide at theme park with mostly downhill sections but some flat or even uphill sections. To me it was the opposite I would climb what looked like a frozen tsunami for 30-40 metres but then on reaching the top of the slope I might have to go down 10-20 metres in elevation over the course of 3-4 km on a flatter section before the next tsunami of 30-40 metres. This has been the trend for the last 200 km really and also often before Thiel Fuel Cache. I don’t know what causes these waves. It is far too regular to be the underlying topography of the bedrock hundreds, if not thousands, of metres below. It must either be explained by the laws of fluid dynamics, for glaciers are slow fluids really, or it must be wind stripping snow continuously from one area and dumping in another to the extent that it builds up to tens of metres in depth. I probably favour the fluid dynamics speculation.

Where the climb is up the face of the tsunami the snow surface is generally quite rough with patches of sastrugi and also glazed and polished plates of neve snow. At the bottom of the slope are dunes and the biggest sastrugi where the catabatic winds coming down the slope are at their strongest. I think first a dune forms and it can be 2 metres high. The dune then hardens and gets glazed by the sun and wind. Then a strong wind will tear down the mountain in a storm and find a chink in the dune which then allows it to start carving it into sastrugi until the whole structure is razed. Between the wave and the bottom of the next slope is the step or self in this vast icefield and this flatter area is a moonscape of structures and blocks like the bottom of the slopes but smaller. There are also beds of loose snow here and it can be hard work pulling the pulk across their abrasive surface.

I split the day into 3 seven-kilometre sessions as preparing lunch was out of the question in this cold wind. My breaks were a litre of drinking chocolate and an energy bar, and I would have only 2 each about 3 hours apart. The macaroni was carried forwards and over the last 3 days I have accumulated another whole day’s supply. So, I now have 12 days food left and my end date can be pushed back to the 19th. I hope 2 days will finish this degree and then have 5 for each of the last two degrees. In essence starving myself a little to build a supply is a way of keeping the daily average sustainable.

I reached the waypoint to avoid the crevassed area to the east after just a km and then took a new bearing to return to the original route some 25 km to the south. I had come some 7 km to the west of the route, but it had not cost me more than a km or two as the angle away from and back to the route were very small, and it was worth it just not to worry about crevasses. Once I turned, I went over a couple of waves and across large flat areas with slightly sticky snow. It was the snow and spindrift which fell last week but it has now begun to harden and glaze with the sun and wind and it was much easier. At the end of each session I was tired, dog tired, and could not wait for the nourishment. These were hard relentless days, but I had to make the most of the good weather. However, at the last session I ran out of steam and called it a day after just 5 km into the 7 km session.

It was now only a force 3 and the spindrift was barely moving. The sun was of course out and strong. I put the tent up quite quickly and then went inside to take off all my cold protection gear. Over the last days my biggest problem was the build-up of ice around the breathing mask. Yesterday as it built up it also thawed against my chin and throat and soaked my clothing as it ran down my chest. Today I tried the mask outside the jacket. It kept my chest dry, but the mask and jacket were frozen together, and it took ages to prise them apart. Because of the lack of wind, the tent got quite warm, and everything dried well. There was also no spindrift landing on the tent which in effect prevented solar gain. All in all, it had been a great day.

On the bush telegraph Pierre announced that against all the odds he had reached the South Pole after 47 or 48 days. The youngest ever to do so. With his integrity, courage and brains Pierre will go a very long way in life. Al and Dave, the ex-marines are about a day and a half in front of me and racing to get to their food cache. Poppis the same. The unsupported Fire Angels, Bex and George, are efficiently clocking up the miles very professionally and are almost in the final degree.

Day 50. Jan 08. S 87º38.617 W 083º30.219 to 87º48.596 W 083º01.267. 20 km. 10 hrs. 2730 Cal. It was a lovely day and the wind which had been a constant menace over the last few days was a bit diminished. However far to the NW I saw some clouds on the horizon and from the forecast I knew they were coming this way. It seems there is a weather system coming my way and that can only mean whiteouts and that make me anxious as there will be no visibility or no heat in the tent in the evening to dry things other than precious cooking fuel.

I split the day into 3 time 7 kilometres as it was too much palaver to rehydrate the macaroni and it was another if I run out of food at the end. The breaks were just hot chocolate and an energy bar. The first session was getting back onto the main route after the diversion to the west to avoid a potential crevassed area. It was a nice ski, and I was delighted that the snow was hardening up and the sheets where spindrift had laid now had a crust and the pulk slid beautifully over them. I had to weave between dunes, about a metre high, and sastrugi, I suppose also a metre high but the way the dunes and sastrugi were aligned were exactly the direction I was going so I could just follow the hardened shallow groves between them, and I made quick time. and did the first 7 km in 3 hours. Meanwhile the clouds kept getting closer.

The second session was pretty much the same except the terrain got gentler and there were few dunes or formations. The surface was firm, and it was easy to pull the pulk. Somewhere early on, perhaps even in the first session, I crossed the 2500 metre contour line. I could feel the air a bit thinner, but it had been a very gradual acclimatisation, so it was not a shock but occasionally after a strenuous bit I gasped for breath. Not long after there was a depression of about 40 metres deep and 5 kilometres long and 2-3 wide. I could not work out what might cause such a depression in a glacier. As glaciers are slowly flowing, I would have thought this depression would have filled in over time. But there must have been other factors keeping it as a depression like a shallow reservoir which had been drained.

My biggest problem was the Cold Avenger breathing mask. It produced a lot of water from my breath, and it had to go somewhere. It either fell out as droplets or dripped onto the growing mass of ice under the mask. I wore it outside my jacket hood otherwise it would soak my neck and chest area. Outside the hood worked well until I wanted to eat. Then I had to undo it behind the hood and use the jacket front as a hinge and the two were frozen together.

On the third session the clouds began to cover the sky and the day, and my happiness, began to shut down and the snow withdrew its luminosity, and it was replaced by a dull, one-dimensional white sheet. Fortuitously I came across some tracks. I think they were from the Fire Angels, Bex and George, 5 days ago. I followed them a bit but, in this light, they were impossible to see, and I lost them in the whiteout. I got my compass out and started following a bearing for a couple of km. The terrain was very benign and there was nothing lumpy to trip me up. With a km to go it all went wrong. I knocked the compass with a ski pole, and it jumped out of its holder. It was a tricky job to get it back in and I had to take the mitts off, and my gloved hands got cold. Then while I was flustered sorting the compass out my goggles steamed up and the steam froze. There was too much going on, so I decided to camp right there. I had the tent up quickly and went in, but it was cold inside without the sun. After melting the water, I had to bring the stove inside and it quickly warmed the inner sanctum and dried the clothes. It is not without risk though so I had to keep vigilant nothing could fall onto it or touch it.

The weather forecast for the next few days is poor and that left me in a bit of despair. I think I am more susceptible than most to whiteouts and the lack of visibility. I feel completely helpless as I shuffle forward in them with nothing visible. Perhaps others can see a bit more than me and certainly in groups you have other people to help judge perspective but on your own it is quite isolating and vulnerable, and I am dreading the next day if there is sastrugi about. On the bush telegraph the others have said there is not much though. Poppis and the Finns have reached their food resupply and will be having a slap-up meal in a warm tent and then will sleep it off tomorrow as they rest. Such are the joys of supported expeditions as opposed to the hardship of unsupported ones.

Day 51. Jan 09. S 87º48.596 W 083º01.267 to S 87º57.940 W 083º05.636. 18 km. 10 hrs. 2920 Cal. I did not sleep well as I was anxious about the weather and it holding me up. It seemed better weather up on the plateau. However, when I woke at 0300 the sun was out, and it was partially cloudy. I decided to go for it, and after the usual morning routines, I was off before 0600. The snow was now quite hard and my pulk was noticeably light and I made good time for about an hour before some scattered snow showers came through. They were the advance party and pretty soon they merged, and the horizon disappeared, and the whiteout set in. I had planned 3 times 7 km to take me to the milestone of the 88th degree 21 km away to the south. It was the end of this crux and infamous section.

When the white out arrived I just carried on skiing but at a slightly slower pace. The terrain was still pretty even but 3 times a small ridge caught me unaware and I fell over. I was quite comfortable skiing on this in the white. I was loathe to stop and have my snack and drink as I knew I would get cold, especially my fingers and I did 8 km before I decided one more km and then I will stop. However, in that 1 km I ran into some large dunes which looked to be about 2 metres high although I could not really see them. What I could see is some of the eroded faces and deep groves around them and they looked treacherous to ski off or slide into. I therefore had to proceed very slowly probing my way. Luckily, they only lasted for about half a kilometre, but it took over an hour to pass through them.

After the quick cold break, I began to climb a slope. The snow covering on it was perfect with sheets of glazed snow. The ski pole’s tips squeaked as I twisted them when I walked and the pulk, usually grinding or screeching behind me fell silent. I guess a lot of the spindrift does not settle here but carries on down to the bottom to form new dunes. I climbed nearly 100 metres from the 2500 contour to the 2600 contour but hardly noticed it on this superb surface. I kept looking round to see if there was any hint of light to the west where the weather was coming from but there was none, and this whiteout looked set for the day. As long as I did not any large sastrugi I should be OK if I continued cautiously and patiently like this. However, there was no joy at all to a whiteout and I relied on my compass and wind ribbon to navigate by. If I relied on instinct I would be going round in circles.

After the second break my intention was to do another 7 km, but I ran out of steam again and the terrain became quite lumpy. I could not see but it just stumbled into it. I fell twice again, probably partly due to exhaustion and disorientation. I had been staring at the compass and the unseen ground ahead of me for 8-9 hours now. So, I decided to throw in the towel at 18 km. It does not sound much but they were hard won.  It was also a victory for me to confront the anxiety of a whiteout and come out on top. I dare say if there was a lot of sastrugi I would not have fared so well.

At 18 km on the dot, I stopped and pitched the tent on what seemed a flat bit of snow. I set up my travelling home and moved in to start boiling. It was very cold outside, perhaps even minus 25, and the tent was not much warmer until the stove got going which raised it to zero. It was not the same as the sun and there would be none of that tonight. It was going to be cold. However just as I was packing up the kitchen, I noticed a shadow and looked out to see the sun. I could feel its warmth through the nylon flysheet. It would make all the difference. I was still some 4 km shy of the 88th degree but I was delighted with what I had done. I retreated to the inner sanctum, surrounded myself with feathers and ate my delicious fish and potato stew. I was quite early, and it was nice to get the blog out of the way before the scheduled 2100 hrs phone call to ALE to let them know all is well and I am still alive.

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October 14, 2023

Day 30. Dec 19.  S 84º02.177 W 080º30.731 to S 84º14.185 W 080º31.200. 23 km. 10 hrs. 2440 Cal. I got going at 0730 on a bright and sunny morning with very little wind. I kept the skinny 30mm mohair short skins on, and they were just enough to give me the traction. However, within an hour I felt the first breezes and in another hour it was about force 3 which is when the spindrift starts to flow. All the loose snow which had fallen in the last 5 days, and there was only about 4 cm of it, had remained undisturbed by wind. Well, when the wind got up to force 4 it started to flow from south to north and was soon piling up in large banks like the leaves in a autumn gale. My problem now was that instead of a nice consistent cover over the whole terrain there were frequent piles of it everywhere and they were unavoidable. I could push my skis through them easily enough but when the pulk hit them it slowed considerably as they were like piles of sand. My gait was no longer a short ski or fast walk but a steady first gear plod with the off section of heaving to get over the mounds of spindrift. At one stage I was worried that something was wrong with a runner on the pulk such was a drag and I turned it over, but all was well.

After my first break the wind went up to a force 5 and now the whole ground was flowing with tiny ice particles. Where these went into sastrugi they followed the contours of the ghoulish shapes and streamed plumes where a groove ended in a ramp or lip. It was like a cascading waterfall in the sastrugi. The wind remained strong all the way through my lunch and I had to be careful again not to lose a glove or poggie. However, as the afternoon wore on it reduced back to a force 3. Throughout all this the sun remained unimpeded to shine its light onto the snow and also to warm me a little. It also seemed to glaze the snow slightly as with the marginal breeze the spindrift was not so much on the move and the pulk slid much more easily. It was a lovely late afternoon ski, but I just ran out of time to do my full 6 km in the last section and called it a day at 23 km in all. I spotted a nice camp spot and with half an hour the kettle was on the stove. I always keep some water back in the day to put in the pan before the snow goes in. I call it seed water and without it, it is very easy to damage the bottom of the kettle if one only has snow. It is always a feeling of deep joy to sit on the edge of my sleeping bag with my feet in the hole and feel the warmth of the stove and the sun after a hard day in the open wind.

I knew that a Frenchman, Vincent Colliard, was starting about now to have a go at the record for the route I was doing, which is in a way the main or official route. It is currently 24 days and held by a Norwegian Eide. By comparison I should take about 60 to do the same 1150 km. However, I now learnt that Colin O’Brady, an American who caused a stir 7 years ago, is going to give Vincent a run for his money and compete against him. There will be much made of this and much comment in the polar community as these two big names go head-to-head.

However for me the more interesting race is with another Frenchman, Pierre, who I have alluded to in the last few days as the man with 2 pieces of bad luck, a susceptible binding, and a fuel leak which has left him just 4 litres to finish the last 500 km. Rather than seek help and go supported Pierre has decided to go for it and try and reach the South Pole before his fuel runs out. Pierre is only 26 years old and if he succeeds, will be the youngest to go unsupported to the Pole. So, a record awaits. To me this is a huge display of courage and optimism, and I can only but admire him as he dashes south for probably only 440 km now. It is a race between Pierre and him running out of fuel. He can do 30 km a day and uses 200 ml fuel a day, so the margins are very tight. ALLEZ ALLEZ PIERRE!!

I am now towards the back of the field of 9. With Pierre miles ahead, the supported Finns with their light pulks 40 km ahead, the feisty Fire Angels 20 km ahead and the ex-marines Al and Dave about 20 km behind. There is no competition between us. Except for the supported Finns, we all have a race to get to the Pole before our recourses run out. I still have 29 days food left, large amounts of fuel and spares of many critical items, like skis and stoves, and this leaves me quite comfortable. Comfortable especially after today because I skied 23 km and did not take any ibuprofen all day and never felt my knee at all. It is there lurking under the surface, and it could still all go horribly wrong but for the moment the knee is behaving as it should.

Day 31. Dec 20.  S 84º14.185 W 080º31.200 to S 84º26.718 W 080º34.445. 24 km. 9 hrs. 2060 Cal. As usual I was up just after 0500 and away just after 0700 on another bright beautiful calm morning. But it was cold at about minus 15 which was easy to overlook in the warm tent. As soon as I started skiing, I was pleased to notice that the mounds of spindrift had not only packed together but also had a slight glaze to them and the pulk glided easily over the surface. It made such a difference in effort and also in speed and I managed to do the first 6 km in just over 2 hours. I sat on my pulk and had a snack and while I could feel the sun warm my legs through the dark grey salopettes I could also feel my fingers getting cold.

The second and third sections were the same in glorious sunshine with virtually no wind. However, towards the end of the third section the glazed snow started to get a breakable crust and I went through the surface frequently into the slower snow underneath. it was like breaking through a meringue crust to be mired in the stickier filling. On the plus side it will mean this will glaze over all the more during the night hours when the sun is not so intense. We were very blessed to have this period of good weather and the forecast was for more of it. It makes everything so much easier.

On the fourth and final section I got a surprise to find that it actually went downhill for about a kilometre during which I lost 30 odd metres of elevation. I forgot about the pulk entirely as it bounced along behind me. I was a wonderful 10 minutes of relaxation, but I knew there would be a price to pay. This price was a long hill up the other side, and it took me a good 2 hours to slog up it to complete the 6 km. My legs were tired, and I could feel the tank was empty as I finally clocked up the 24 km for the day. I don’t think I could have done more but it had been a relatively easy day with not a lot of calories burned. My knee was fine but my neck was sore, but this was alleviated a little by dropping the harness, so the waist took more than the shoulders.

I found a place to camp and within the hour was filling the thermoses from the kettle on the stove. The tent was roasting and at one stage the thermometer showed 32 degrees. It was delightful to wallow on the inside after the day in the cold. It was a significant day because it marked the halfway stage in my food. I managed to spin the first 28 days supplies out to 31 days by being frugal when I had a day off or a very short day. However, I doubt I will be able to do that now as I need all the calories I can get and protein to keep the muscles and joints in shape. So, I now have 28 days food left starting tomorrow morning meaning I will run out of food on the 17 January evening. That should give me enough time to cover the remaining 620 km.  I have already done 535 km but that was with a much heavier pulk. In terms of distance, I should be at the halfway stage in a couple of days but in terms of effort I think I have already passed it. So instead of counting the days up I am now counting them down.

Day 32. Dec 21. S 84º26.718 W 080º34.445 to S84º39.269 W 080º33.617.  24 km. 9.5 hrs. 2090 Cal. I was getting spoilt by this weather. I was woken again by the sun in the warm tent which had been slow roasting me all night. Consequently, I did not feel that well rested but was glad of the warm tent. Yet outside it was minus 16, but calm. It was the perfect day in a run of perfect days. I managed to get away by 0700 which is always my goal but often relapses.

The snow in the morning was firm and quite fast and it was a joy to ski. There was a fair climb but like most gradients here it was very gentle. Just before my first break after the climbing was done, I looked to my west and land was ahoy! It was the first land I had seen for weeks. I think they were part of the Theil Mountains Range, and they looked about 50-100 km away to the west. They were covered in ice and white, without the big dark rock walls of the Patriot Hills at the start. It was lovely to spot them as this frozen ocean was quite monotonous save for the changing texture of the surface.

During my third session of 6 km, I started to feel a pain in my neck. I dropped the harness so the shoulders would take less weight and the legs more and this seemed to help but I could not shake it. It lingered with me for the rest of the day. I hope it is not going to become my go-to pain now the knee has had its day and seems to have stopped complaining. I suppose overall I am quite tired, both physically from the effort and mentally from the relatively little sleep and I am sure no deep sleep. However, I need to keep putting in good days like this while the weather is good. Soon enough there will be a foul day or even a storm and I can then lie in bed listening to it without guilt while I rest. On the last section I was slow. The snow was good, but I did not have the energy to ski so had to plod along with my skis on. Eventually around 1800 I had done my 24 km and found a good spot to camp. I suppose this expedition is more of an endurance test than an expedition.

This is nowhere more on show that with the “race” between Colin O’Brady and Vincent Colliard which I alluded to yesterday. I know nothing about Vincent Colliard other than he works with Ousland Explorers, and that in the Polar World is about the highest accolade you can get. By implication he will be modest, highly competent, and likeable, and hand-picked by his employer. Colin O’Brady is a record chaser and something of a showboating chest-beater. He is certainly a very competent endurance athlete but perhaps in adventure sports for all the wrong reasons. Colin would never climb a mountain to revel in the wild alpine flower meadows, but he would do it to crush someone else’s record. They will no doubt overtake me in a few weeks.

To my mind the real race is between young Pierre up ahead and him running out of fuel. This a race of courage versus misfortune. The misfortune being he had a fuel leak and lost a few litres of fuel. He is putting in some huge days to try, and is now down to 3 litres with some 400 km remaining. You can follow it on his blog www.polexpedition.fr . Meanwhile the FireAngels Bex and George are storming ahead. Bex used to play women’s rugby for Wales and they have gone through the male teams and soloist, like me, in a similar manner to Jonah Lomu going through the England Backs. They are consistently doing high 20’s every day without fail.

But all in all, on this the longest day in the southern hemisphere I had a good day and a comfortable evening doing chores in the warm tent. When I say longest day, I don’t really mean Antarctica where this day is perhaps 3-4 months long with the sun continually going round in the sky until it dips to the horizon and rises again for a month and then disappears completely for 3-4 months.

Day 33. Dec 22. S 84º39.269 W 080º33.617 to S 84º51.750 W 080º46.155. 24 km. 9.5 hrs. 2360 Cal. It was yet another fantastic day when I wearily dragged myself out of my sleeping bag and packed. I am in a bit of a cocoon in the tent so when I stepped outside, like a marmot leaving its burrow, I was struggling to see for the glare. I set of at 0700 and initially the going was quite slow due to the crystals in the snow but as the sun intensified it mellowed and relinquished its resistance. After that it was an easy pull on a lovely day. I have climbed slightly and am now around 1300 metres and its does feel a bit colder than down at 800 metres. Perhaps minus 15 as opposed to 10. With a bit of a breeze, it does feel very cold and I was struggling with the small gloves and the poggies. In the end I had to get my Alti on and they are super. They are also made my Outdoor Research who know how to make gloves and mitts. I also have some Hestra which are borderline useless. I have many pairs of Hestra gloves at home, and none work well.

On the second leg I began to feel a few aches and pains. One of the most alarming was under the heel of the right foot where the planter attaches. Another was neck. I am acutely tuned in now to any developing pains. They could be a banana skin to this expedition. The trouble is the older you get the more banana skins there are lying around and at 64 there are quite a few. However, as the day unfolded the heel diminished and with the neck I found a sweet spot for the harness lower down where my torso and legs could share the strain.

On the third and fourth 6 kilometres the mountains I had seen yesterday reappeared. They were much closer now at perhaps 30 km and tall and covered in snow and ice. There were Ford Massif in the Theil Mountains. Other nunataks and escarpments just made an appearance, but I did not climb high enough on the undulating ice sheet for them to reveal themselves. None the less it was lovely to see land and I am sure tomorrow I will see more when I ski near their base. However, these nunataks and escarpments were much smaller than the Ford Massif and I don’t think I will be overwhelmed by them. The snow, especially towards the end was superb and on the level bits I was actually able to ski. My pulk is still quite heavy at about 90 kg but it will reduce to 50 kg in the next weeks and this small ski today was hopefully a taste of things to come. I certainly was not as tired as yesterday when I hit the 24 km mark and looked for a place to camp.

It takes half an hour from taking the skis off to lighting the stove and by 1900 the stove was roaring away. There is no subtlety to the stove. It is either off and quiet or on and dominating everything with its need for attention and jet like roar. However, it works well, and in an hour everything was boiled and I could withdraw to the inner sanctum of the tent and eat my dinner. On the bush telegraph I was saddened, in fact gutted, to hear one of us has had to retire. It will be a great loss to our camaraderie. The FireAngels are past Theil and the Finns have had a day off there, gorging themselves on their resupply and sleeping no doubt. To my great surprise Alan and Dave were also there. I was sure they were behind me, but they also have a resupply and so must have overtaken me with their light pulks. It means I am last now; however, the Finns and the Ex-Marines will now be burdened with their resupplies which will slow them a bit. I still seem to have a large stock of food, fuel and 2 of just about everything critical. My strategy was not to dash to the South Pole like a high-performance car but grind my way there like a tractor covering most contingencies, and that still seems to be working.

Day 34. Dec 23.  S 84º51.750 W 080º46.155 to S 85º04.511 W 080º45.798. 24 km. 9 hrs. 2260 Cal. It was yet again another fantastic day, and the tent was warm. I knew just the other side of the ripstop it was minus 15 but in the tent it was cosy. One thing I have in the tent that really helps this is a 3 mm thick piece of insulating mat which covers the entire groundsheet. Not only does it protect me from the cold snow below, but it is black and absorbs the solar radiation and then slowly lets it out.

I managed to get going at 0700 as usual and as normal the early morning snow was quite gritty and held the pulk back. As I climbed the temperature dropped and I noticed how my beloved combination of the Outdoor Research Backstop Sensor gloves inside the poggies was not as warm as it used to be. I tried several different combinations and settled on the mohair fingerless mitts inside the Hestra gloves and then these inside the poggies. It was not as dexterous but slightly warmer. If there is one thing I have an abundance of, it is gloves and mittens. On the right of the photo are 2 pairs of mohair fingerless mittens which I use as a liner as they fit inside everything else except the OR Backstop. I have two pairs of these in case I lose one. Then there is the red Hestra heli ski which I use for putting the tent up and down and more and more in the poggies. Then there are the poggies which go on the ski sticks, and I can just slip my gloved hand in and out off. Then on the left are the OR Alti Mitts which are very warm but not that dexterous and then finally there are the Mountain equipment Redline mitts which are the warmest of the lot and also a backup in case a OR Alti mitt blows away. All the gloves and mitts are on wrist lanyards which is an essential safety feature.

As the morning progressed the snow became less icy and gritty and much easier to pull the pulk on and therefore faster. There were times where I could actually ski, and as the pulk empties more, these will become more frequent. My neck hurt initially but I dropped the harness just by a centimetre or two and it made all the difference. I saw the Theil Mountains all day, or just the tops of them, as there was an ice ridge in the way. I am sad to say I don’t think I will ever get a full view of them now.

For my breaks I sit on my pulk on the section where the clothes bags are. It is wonderful to be able to sit in little wind with the sun in my face and warming my legs through the dark salopettes. All around me is the ice field, utterly still and peaceful and without a soul within a good day’s ski. It is one of the most isolated places I have been and quite sensational having it all to myself. It has been nearly a month since I have seen anyone although I know there are a few people within a 200 km circle of me. I sit on my pulk without a care in the world and watch the snow sparkle. Not like the kaleidoscope when there is a bit of spindrift on the move but more subtly like the milky way on a clear cold night. My breaks are about 20-30 minutes and then it is time to put the skis back on and go another 6 km, which generally takes 2-3 hours.

After 24 Km I was just a km short of the Theil Fuel Cache. It is an icy runway and a couple of shipping containers and lots of fuel drums neatly stacked. Some planes en route from Union Glacier to the South Pole Station sometimes have to stop here to top up their tanks. There is possibly the world’s most remote toilet here and a container where supplies are left. Both the Finns and the Ex-marines had a resupply here; but not Pierre, or the FireAngels, or me. I could not use the toilet or even leave rubbish either, in keeping with my unsupported status. So tomorrow I will ski on by as it did not exist. When I put the tent up, I could not find any good purchase for the pegs in the sugary snow. It is usually rock hard, so this surprised me. I had to use my 4 skis as the main anchor points for the tent, making sure the sharp steel edges were facing the tent so they did not chaff through the cord. It was another beautiful warm evening in the tent. I am sometimes frustrated how long the snow melting takes to produce 6 litres of boiling water and with tonight’s sugary snow it was nearly an hour and a half. I suppose I could have gone further but I don’t want to risk any more injuries and am keeping the momentum steady until I lose more weight from the pulk. It had been a marvellous day.

Day 35. Dec 24. S 85º04.511 W 080º45.798 to S 85º16981 W 080º49764. 24 km. 9.5 hrs. 2810 Cal. I cannot believe this weather. It is yet again a beautiful cold crisp clear day with little wind. I have nothing to compare it to so don’t know if I am being fortunate or whether this is the norm. I left at 0700 and skied the km and a half to the Thiel Corner Fuel Cache. It was essentially an ice runway marked out with coloured bags, an small arial for comms, perhaps 100 barrels of aviation fuel in a neat line, a limp windsock and the famous toilet, apparently the most remote in the world. It was about 2.5 metres in height, width and length and must have been brought to Antarctica on the Ilyushin cargo flight and then dragged here from Union Glacier with the fuel some years ago. I went over to open the door and have a look inside, but it was cold and quite dark and a poor alternative to outside. I think it might also be used to resupply the supported expeditions I did not bother taking my skis off as there was nothing here for me and even taking a sheet of toilet paper would have jeopardised my “unsupported” status. I skied on into a multitude of tracks. Some were skiers and some were vehicles. I assume the Electric Vehicle and its support convoy came this way. There were 11 skiers in front of me, including Robert and Per, who both independently came to here from a different start, The Messner Start, which is slightly shorter. Including me there are 12 skiers and I am now bringing up the rear, but I am not stressed by that. Slow and steady for me.

As I headed south for the first of my breaks, I noticed how smooth the snow is here. There is no sastrugi at all and very little skarve even. These features are caused by wind, and it must be quite sheltered here from the catabatic winds which sweep down from the Polar Plateau to the south. In fact, there was about 5 cm of newish snow lying on the old surface from about 10 days ago and it had not been pulverised into spindrift like in other places. It had hardly been disturbed. It was easy to ski on. I thought I was going uphill but at my break I sat on the pulk and looked back to the distant toilet and fuel cache, and they looked higher than me.

About 20 kilometres to my west were the Thiel Mountains. I could only see the upper parts of them as an ice rise blocked the view of the base and much of the ramparts. From here they reminded me of the Hardangerjokull in Norway with its flat ice field on top and then steep glaciers tumbling down from it between the ramparts. Where I was going to the south was just a vast plain of ice until beyond the curvature of the earth.

It was a long afternoon as the snow reached a certain temperature or humidity, so it gripped the pulk. Either that or there was little gas in the tank to overcome the friction. To the Gods above I must have looked like an ant dragging a large colourful caterpillar across a white sand beach. Usually, the last section is a bit easier as the snow is more glazed but not today. It was still abrasive. At last, the 24 km mark came up and I could look for somewhere to put the tent. It was not as easy here as say a week ago because the snow was much looser and sugary due to the lack of compaction by the wind.

There was not much on the bush telegraph this evening except from Sam. A few days ago, Sam suffered a medical setback which could have happened to anyone. And it ended his trip. I remember getting the text from him about it a few days ago and it left me shocked. I suppose being out here on your own, where time is almost meaningless and the only things that matter are immediately in the vicinity one loses some measuring stick for emotion. When I got Sam’s message, I thought I would cry. I didn’t but I was very emotional about it and was gutted for him. He was evacuated the next day on the doctor’s recommendation and went to Union Glacier and then on the returning Ilyushin to Punta Arenas. The diagnosis was correct, and Sam is returning to the UK after Christmas. He is an ex-marine and has served in combat so will know the real feeling, but for me it felt like we lost a man. Pierre is now some 200 km ahead in difficult ground and the Fire Angels, The Finns and Al and Dave are a day ahead of me. It was another great evening in the warm tent with just a slightly overcast sky.

Day 36. Dec 25. S 85º16.981 W 080º49.764 to S 85º28.473 W 080º58.411. 22 km. 9.5 hrs. 2600 Cal. It was very warm in the tent most of the night and especially in the morning, so I did not sleep that well. I should have vented the door a bit, but I was miserly about retaining the heat. When I eventually emerged, blinking into the daylight, it was 0630 and there were some clouds to the north. To the north doesn’t worry me the wind seems to come from the south, so I was not perturbed. I heaved everything out of the tent and packed the pulk and was ready to go at 0700. The clouds seemed a lot closer now.

In fact there was an ominous mist below them and it was drifting towards me and encircling me. I felt a bit of alarm now as it continued to advance like toxic gas in the first world war. I skied south away from it and into my shadow but that started to get fainter and fainter until the mist had consumed everything. The sun, which had been my joy and companion for the last week was quickly extinguished and all its benefits went. The most significant was the contrast and light and then the warmth. The freezing fog consumed everything and all I could see was the snow for about 10 metres in front of me and even that was not that clear.

On the plus side the terrain was very gentle. It was flat and I think level, but it was difficult to gauge. I made good time and did the first 6 km in 2 hours. It was the same for the second stretch also, but I could see nothing. I might well have been a hamster on a treadmill with a white blindfold on. During the third stretch it cleared slightly and I could see a great ice rise looming ahead in the direction I was going. I checked my GPS and that was correct. I had to climb nearly 100 metres up it from the level I was on to a new higher plateau. As I skied to the base of it for my third break, I came across more and more light sastrugi and many small ridges and grooves in the snow’s surface.

On the fourth section, the calm plod of the morning all went out of the window as I got to the bottom of the slope. It seems the cold air descending this slope, in what is a catabatic wind, often came roaring down here and created and carved some difficult but small sastrugi. It had also stripped all the loose snow from the surface and the resulting sastrugi, ridges and grooves were glazed and polished. I wandered into this just as the mist came back and it was chaos. I slithered on my skis, stumbling frequently, but the pulk kept getting stuck in grooves. I then had to heave on the slippery surface with my skis slipping hopelessly to try and get it out. I went from 3 km per hour to 1 km per hour if that and it was very strenuous. To make it worse I was already on the climb. I peered into the flat white light but could barely make anything out. My eyes were already tired after the morning and early afternoon and kept inventing mirages as fluid drifted across my cornea. I became very angry with everything and in the end had to stop and change skis to the Ousland skis with the wider Nylon 60mm short skin and the current 30 mm mohair did not provide enough grip. The next hour I climbed slithered and strained and slowly pulled myself and the pulk up the hill away from the pockmarked terrain as the bottom. Eventually it began to get a bit smoother as I climbed further but the sastrugi and poor visibility at the bottom had taken its toll and I was tired.

Some 2 hours after my break I had only done another 2 km and was thinking of putting the tent up when I came across ski tracks leading up the hill. I followed them for a bit and noticed I was not the only one having problems as one of the skiers had walked much of this section. It is frowned upon to walk as there is a danger from crevasses, which is minimised if your weight is spread with skis. I continued up the slope for another 2 km on much easier ground but decided to camp early at 22 km rather than the 24 km I aimed for.

The tent was up at 1730 and then I went in to boil the 7 litres of water. The stove was the only heat in the tent as there was no sun and it got the tent up to about 10 degrees. It had been quite a puritanical Christmas. I think some of the founding fathers of this austere type of Christianity would have heartily approved of my toil and John Knox himself would have been delighted. Once in the tent I had my usual supper and then started on the blog. The bush telegraph was full of Christmas banter. The FireAngels were enjoying a bottle of Baileys, and the ex-marines Al and Dave were having port. Poppis I am sure would have bettered that even. Ahead Pierre was enjoying some French treats he had been saving. Everyone though had struggle with the light today and cut their day short.

Day 37. Dec 26.  S 85º28.473 W 080º58.411 to S 85º39.304 W 081º03.075.  21 km. 10 hrs. 2320 Cal. It was cold in the tent in the morning, a little above zero and I knew the sun was not out. When I emerged 2 hours later, I was disappointed to see it was a white out. Even with my high contrast goggles on I could make out very little about the terrain. It had also been snowing a little in the night and there was now about 4 cm of new snow about. As soon as I had taken the first steps and felt the snow clawing at the pulk I knew it would be a long day and boring day. especially if the sun did not return.

To make it easier for me to cope with the white out I decided to do four 5 km sections rather than the usual 6. If there was a change in fortune, then I could always do more at the end. I tried to go without the chest mounted compass, relying on the course on my garmin watch and the route on the GPS. However, unless you looked at these gadgets every 15 seconds it was easy to become disorientated and go wildly off course very quickly, especially if the wind ribbon was erratic and limp. Without any gadget or compass or wind I would imagine you would end up just randomly wandering round in circles for hours going nowhere, but convinced you were heading directly south. Even with the compass I found myself 30 degrees off course just in the matter of 15 seconds if I was not paying attention.

These conditions continued all day. There was nothing to see save 4 nearby nunataks which just fleeting revealed themselves before being consumed by the mist again. I think it was the Lewis nunataks and they will be the last land I see until I reach the South Pole. Now they are quite small with the 4 of them in a row but if climate change continues, they will be the crest of some mighty mountains in a thousand or two years.

The one saving grace of the day was that the terrain was even. There was no sastrugi or even skarve and that meant I could just plod along towing the sluggish pulk all day. Had there been sastrugi I think I would have done less than half the distance and probably for more effort. I was doing about 2 kilometres an hour with my mind busy calculating permutations of days left, food left averages needed each day or per degree. Whichever way I looked at it there were no grounds for alarm unless of course the sun does not return for a week or two while this low pressure persists. But without the sun there was no joy in today and if this keeps up for a while morale will take a blow.

After my 20 kilometres I saw I had time and energy to do another without eating too much into the evening. I could not even see where I wanted to put the tent so had to walk around to leave some footprints so I could judge the lie of the land. With the tent up and no sun there was no solar gain, so the tent remained cold while I refilled my three 1 litre fuel bottles. This is a fortnightly task as I burn about 200 ml a day melting snow to boil 7 litres. With the 3 bottles full I saw I still had another 5 litres which are split into three 5 litre containers so if one went, I would still have the 3-4 litres in the other 2 containers. I had an abundance of fuel, and it might be needed to heat the tent on the polar plateau in 2 weeks on sunless evenings. Although it had been a dull day, I had at least knocked another 21 km off the total and am now just 485 kilometres from the South Pole.

On the bush telegraph of the garmin inreach devices the Finns, the ex-marines Al and Dave, and the FireAngels all did well despite the whiteout. It bodes well for me as they are all a day ahead and said there was no sastrugi. Meanwhile Pierre who is far ahead had a difficult cold day climbing up to the Polar Plateau but still put on many kilometres.

Day 38. Dec 27. S 85º39.304 W 081º03.075 to S 85º49.816 W 081º08 246. 20 km. 10.5 hrs. 3170 Cal. Against the odds it was sunny when I woke but it was a small crescent of clear sky between what looked like 2 fronts. I packed in the sun and skied about 3-4 km when the inevitable change started to happen. It was like the management closing down a famous theatre after an evening’s extravagant performance. The first thing to get switched off is the sparkle and luminosity of the snow. The crystals stop reflecting and the light drains from the snow, and it starts to go grey. My shadow, sharp and defined in the sun becomes more diffuse and eventually becomes a dark blur as the first waves of thinner cloud start to cover the sun. Then the horizon, once clear and sharp, starts to merge with the sky in a dullness that is a harbinger of things to come. Initially the snow still maintains some shadows and highlights and is 3 dimensional but as the light fades when more cloud covers the sun these become less contrasting until in the end everything becomes 2 dimensional and flat. If it stayed like this, it would be tolerable but inevitably what happens next is the cloud descends or it starts to snow, and you are in mist. Now the 2-dimensional snow just disappears along with any horizon, and everything is just one dimension of a slightly grey white. It is impossible to see features beyond the end of your skis and you have no idea what is snow and what is sky. It is like scuba diving in milk.

And this is what happened this morning as it had the last two days. All I could do was plod on hoping I was not going to hit a sastrugi patch. As the sunny day was shutting down, I did manage to get a glimpse of the Lewis Nunatak before it to was extinguished by the whiteout. The whiteout blotted out any joy there was, and I knew it would be a trudge until it ended.

It didn’t end and it persisted all day through all my breaks and sessions of skiing. The snow was also not letting the pulk glide easily and I was going uphill, but I could only feel it and not see it. It was a long day, but I was determined to get something out of it. I did my usual 4 sessions with 3 breaks, but I cut the last two sessions short as with all the heaving I was getting a sore neck. The 20-kilometre mark could not come quickly enough, and I spent the last 2 hours constantly looking at my watch to monitor my slow progress. As soon as it came, I pitched the tent. I was a bit delayed with my usual evening as I did not stop until after 1900. Once in the tent I could relax but even here there was no joy as the sun was not warming it. Once I finished melting the 7 litres, I brought the stove into the inner sanctum and in no time it hit 30 degrees. However, I could not keep it there as there are carbon monoxide concerns. I looked at the forecast in the evening and it did not look good for a few more days. On the bush telegraph everyone was complaining about the weather and the whiteout, even the Finns who know about harsh wintery weather.

Day 39. Dec 28. S 85º49.816 W 081º08 246 to S 86º00.335 W 081º14.560. 20 km. 10.5 hrs. 3170 Cal. It was not sunny when I emerged from the tent but there was good light and there was plenty of contrast in the snow. The horizon with the snowpack and the sky was not very pronounced and they almost merged. However, there was a distant crescent of blue sky far to the north east and the very gentle wind was also coming from there so there was hope. I had skied about an hour when suddenly I noticed my shadow beginning to appear. I looked round and the blue crescent was now almost upon me. Within 10 minutes everything started to burst into life and the snow started to sparkle again. There were some dark clouds on the distant horizon but at least I would have a few hours joy.

The snow however was very abrasive and did not let the pulk pass easily. I rescheduled my day to do four times 5 km, rather than 6 km as I knew I would not have the time or the energy. By the time I got to my main lunch break, the middle break, it was beautiful weather and surprisingly warm. I did not need gloves even which has been unheard of in the last month. I sat on my pulk and basked in the sun enjoying what I had been missing over the last 4 days.

I had been going up steadily since Thiel Fuel Cache but had not really noticed it. However, I was now at 1600 metres having climbed 200 since the cache. I would have to climb much more in the next fortnight getting up to 2800 metres and there was the infamous sastrugi of the 87th degree ahead where much of the climbing was, but for now it was gentle, and the terrain was very kind with lots of smooth gentle slopes. However, the snow was quite deep and not at all compact or glazed. I worked like a cart horse pulling the pulk through it leaving a trail some 10 centimetres deep. There were no signs of any other tracks as the wind and new snow obliterate them quite quickly.

Eventually, 12 hours after setting off and after some 10 and a half hours hard pulling, I crossed into the 86th Degree and then the 20-kilometre mark for the day soon after. By now the weather was changing and the sun was struggling to appear through thickening cloud. my shadow had long gone, and it was even snowing very slightly, like a frozen drizzle. I had the tent up quickly and dived inside pulling the zip closed on the world outside. I was now in my warming cocoon with the stove going, an hour later that normal. it seemed everyone ahead, Poppis, the FireAngels and the Ex-Marines were all complaining about the deep abrasive sandy snow and were saying this is what this degree is renowned for. The next 100 km were going to be a slow pull in sand snow up a gentle slope until the 87-degree started, and it was probably worse as it was where most of the climb was. This brings the Middle Section, The Thiel Mountains, to an end and heralds the start of the Steep Rough section, Section 4, from the 86th Degree to the end of the 87th degree. It is perhaps the crux of the whole trip and delivers you to the Polar Plateau, the last section. It had been a great section, but I was disappointed that the route did not go nearer the mountains. The weather in the first half was superb but the second half tarnished it a bit.

Back

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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October 14, 2023

Day 01. 20 Nov. Hercules Inlet to S 79º59.2243’ W79º50.7014’. 8 km. 3.5 hrs. 80 up. 0 down. 1380 Cal. At breakfast I noticed it was a lot less noisy. Indeed, it was almost dull. There were some 40 people in the dining room, but it was subdued. Then I noticed none of the staff were here. They had all moved through to their own dining room leaving just the guests. It must be said that most were very interesting but there was not the happy banter. Tim Mcdowell, the young ops guy came to tell me the 0930 flight was postponed as there was still a bit of fog over Hercules Inlet and the pilots needed good contrast and this was likely missing. He said there was another satellite image at 1200 but in the meantime, we should prepare out gear. I packed everything except my tent and took all the stuff I was leaving to Lucy who could store it. At 1200 Tim came back and said the flight was on. I packed the tent and then my pulk went off to be weighed. It was 137 kg in all. 80 of which was consumables. I then had a quick lunch while the crew loaded the pulk into the Twin Otter. They separated the fuel so it would not leak with reduced pressure. I forgot to fill my thermoses at the dining room which would have save me fuel in the evening. After lunch it was time to go to the plane.

The pilot and co-pilot were both Canadian women. The pilot oozed experience and was an Arctic Pilot in the summer for the same company – which ALE chartered. The pulk and gear was already loaded so I just had to take my seat. After a while the engines started and the plane moved forward on its large skis turned and then headed down the runway taking off quickly with the light load. The camp was soon gone, and in its place was a small range of glaciated mountains sticking out of the mantel of an ice sheet. Hercules inlet was just the other side of the mountains some 60 km away. We were there in no time, but the pilot had to make a couple of low passes to make sure the ice sheet was smooth enough to land on. She found a spot and we circled round and landed. The two pilots helped be out with the heavy sledge and the fuel and I and all my gear were on the ice. The pilots made sure I phoned comms to report my position and then they filled a couple of black bags with snow to act as a marker for their other flights this season.

At last, I was ready. The pilots took some photos of me and then I was ready to set off. I left at 1500 hrs heading south. Once I was far enough away, they started their engines and took off. The plane soon disappeared leaving me on my own in this vast wilderness of ice. It is likely other skiers, and there were about 10 skiing this route this year, will catch me up and I might meet them, but it could be the pilots are the last people I see for 56 days until I reach the pole.

For the first hour the skiing was very easy as I crossed the flat icesheet which filled the Inlet. The snow was smooth and hard with a light dusting on it from last night. It was almost what the Norwegians call silkefore – silky conditions. The sun was quite bright but there was some mid-level cloud, and it was wild still and totally silent except for the swish of skis. I was going to use full skins but changed to the short skins and they were fine. After an hour I got to the edge of the inlet where the floating ice was grounded on the bedrock. At the safety brief I was told to keep my eyes open here as the ice essentially went up a down slightly with the tide and there was a hinge effect. However, I saw not the slightest crack.

The terrain started to climb now, and it would rise some 800 metres in the next 20 km. I had expected a discernible climb, but the gradient was so shallow it was barely noticeable. I kept on a bearing from the start waypoint to another some 6 km away. It kept me on a bearing towards the Patriot Hills away in the distance so 20 km away. I kept heading for the glacier which drained the central portions of these hills. It was windstill and silent. Although the climb was negligible, I did feel it from time to time especially when going over rougher ground with the odd lip. It would be an exaggeration to call it sastrugi which is slower. I plodded up here for the next two hours constantly debating whether I should switch my skis over to the set with the full skins but just managed to keep going on some areas with a vigorous short set of herring bone steps.

At one stage I glanced at my watch, and it said it was 2000. I was shocked at where all the time had gone. I decided to ski for another hour and then phone comms for my daily scheduled call and position which I had to do every day at 2100. By that stage I would have done 8 km and done a good 3 hours. I must have faffed about for ages at the plane. I summited a very gentle rise and found a good spot to put the tent up. It was already 2110 and I was a bit late with the call. However, the operator at the other end seemed surprised I was calling him. I gave my position and said I was going to camp.

The snow was firm, like a neve type of snow and it squeaked when I put my sticks into it or walked on it. It was firm enough to hold the large tent pegs I had well. The tent was up in ten minutes then I threw all my pizza delivery bags in and dug a hole in the porch. I dragged my bedding bag in and then got the stove going. It all worked as it should, and it took well over an hour to melt 6 litres of water. 4 went to create chocolate drinks, 1 to rehydrate dinner, and 1 for tomorrow’s lunch and water left over to start tomorrow’s melting so I would not scorch the pan. I sent a few messages and was pleased to hear Sam Cox was doing well up in Berkner Island. It was already 2300 when I started my meal and. It did not feel late at all, and the sun was charging the batteries in the tent porch.

However, I noticed all my other gadgets said it was around 2100 but my trusty watch said midnight. I was confused. I phone Comms again to ask the time. I was in fact 2100 and my watch was 3 hours fast. It must have picked up the time on the Skylink satellite at Union Glacier camp and shifted my phone to Western Time without me knowing. It was lucky I thought to phone again otherwise I would have had a black mark by my name. It explained why the afternoon was so short. I had good time now so wrote the blog and just enjoyed the warmth of the tent perched on the sunny icy expanse. It got up to about 20 degrees in the tent and I was warm. Outside the sun was bright and passing over the Patriot Hills to the SW. It had been a marvellous first day and I was being spoilt by the weather. I had some aches and pains and a bit of cramp after the day but that was probably due to being relatively inactive for the last 3 weeks. I had another 700 metres to climb and would take them slowly easing my way into the trip and savouring the experience of this extraordinary continent.

Day 02. S 79º59.2243’ W79º50.7014’ to S 80º03.9712 W 80º20.6876. 15 km. 7 hrs.  370m up. 20m down. 3140 Cal.?  I slept well on the ice without the need for an eye mask despite the bright sunshine. It was so bright in the tent in the morning the solar chargers were working well on the tent floor beside my bed. I had breakfast in my sleeping bag washed down with a litre of whey and milk. I also had a litre of chocolate still scalding hot in my flask after a night. I had to put snow in to cool it. Outside it was windstill, below zero at perhaps minus 5 or 10, but sunny and this warmed the tent like a greenhouse. My bare hands got cold packing up the tent, but they warmed quickly once they were away from the frosty ripstop. It did not take long to pack the pulk, but I tried a few experiments to get access to my stuff without taking the skis, sleeping system and tent tube off and this took nearly an hour. I eventually left at 1100. It was way too late, but I did not want to put in big days yet anyway. After 3 weeks in Punta Arenas I looked like Billy Bunter and I did not want a wear and tear injury. Once I was in better shape, I could extend my efforts.

I set off south with the warm sun on my back. I had the short skins on as the terrain was undulating for the next 3-4 km and then I could see it rise to the west of Fudgie Nunatak. A small knoll standing proud of the icesheet. I persevered with the short skins, but it was quite hard work, and I was always tense and prepared to get pulled back. Eventually with the slope to the west of Fudgie Nunatak approaching I put on the skis with the full skins. What a difference. I could now pull with confidence. With these full skins I felt I could pull a railway carriage, which was just as well as my pulk was not far off at 137 kg.

As I started up the slope, I noticed some bare milky blue ice to the side of the waypointed route. I veered over to it. It was cracked and the cracks were about 2-3 cm wide. However, the runners glided like a dream on the ice and my skins had a good grip, so I stayed on the ice weaving a path between the wind shaped sastrugi which was lumpy and erratic. it was not a steep climb by Scandinavian standards but with the weight of the pulk it certainly made me work. Under the sun it was hot work and I had to stop to take off a layer of clothes and also my balaclava and gloves. The sun was intense, and I could feel it burning my scalp. It had never occurred to me to take a baseball hat with a neck cover but that is exactly what I needed.

It took a good 2 hours to climb up the slope between Fudgie Nunatak and the Pirrit Hills and I passed very close to Fudgie. So close I could easily have gone onto its rounded boulder covered dome. I am sure there might have been some lichens growing on the rocks. I kept thinking Northern Europe must have looked much like this 12000 years ago at the last ice age with everything covered in ice. Reindeer would been at the more hospitable edges going from outcrop to outcrop to nibble the lichens. The Neanderthal hunters would have followed them as they moved north as the ice withdrew until they could settle the land and become todays Scandinavians.

As the cold air flowed down from the central higher areas of Antarctica it picked up speed at the steeper sections. These are catabatic winds. It is the reason that whichever route you ski to the pole the winds are against you as they always flow north from the high polar dome in the centre. Here between the Pirrit Hills and Fudgie Nunatak they would have accelerated through the gap and blown the snow into uneven formations called sastrugi. Although it was beautifully calm today the normally constant wind had left its mark and I had to pick a path through the formations. Some were like blacksmiths anvils and other were scallop like depressions. The pulk struggled and 5 times it turned over and I had to right it. All the Acapulca Pulks I have owned and also the Fjellpulken ones have a common issue with this, and I think the runners could be another 25% further apart to minimize the capsizing.

At the top of the climb, I reached another waypoint and veered more to the south. I would follow this for another 6 km to another all the time climbing slightly. The gnarliness of the sastrugi eased as the slope eased and I could make better time again. It was still hot and windstill and I had no use for gloves at all. I was tempted to go on and on into the sun which was now almost in front on me. However, I was wary of doing myself an injury. It would do me no good to gain an extra 5 km at the risk of popping a hernia or prolapsing a disc so after 7 hours I found a flatter spot in the sastrugi and made camp. The tent went up quickly and once inside I made a deep hole in the porch, I could put my legs into so I could sit as I melted water. I could feel the heat of the porch warm my slightly sunburnt head. I boiled 4 litres of hot water for the flasks and another 3 to drink with my dinner and tomorrows breakfast. I had tried not to sweat too much today but it was difficult not to. At times I felt like a slave pulling great blocks of stone to build the great pyramids of Gaza under the midday sun. I sent a few messages on the Garmin Inreach App which I am sure I would use a lot as fed snow into the kettle. After supper I wrote a bit of the blog but fell asleep halfway through it at 2230 and abandoned it as I slid into my sleeping bag.

Day 03. S 80º03.9712 W 80º20.6876 to S 80º14.1736 W 80º37.2676. 21 km. 8 hrs. 170m up. 30m down. 3380 Cal.  I had a slow start as I needed to finish the blog in the morning. It was bright outside and there was virtually no cloud, and it was completely still. I have heard it said that the moment you get off the plane Antarctica wants you dead! Who ever said that either led a very sheltered life or is a drama queen. Since I arrived, I have been spoiled by the most benign conditions, I know it will change and the wind will pick up but for the moment I am having some terrific skiing. I was wrong what I said yesterday about the Pirrit Hills. They are much further away and all the hills I am passing to the west are the Patriot Hills which is basically the SE end of the Ellsworth Mountains before they diminish and are consumed by the ice sheet.

In the morning I continued south to another waypoint. As I went another plane went over to take some more people to Hercules inlet. I was in contact with the always chirpy Jacob. Pierre and the older British Marines started yesterday, and Jacob and the Finns started today. That just left Missy Desktop who was keeping her trip under cover and would start soon. The young Turks of Jacob, Pierre, and Missy Desktop would soon catch me up. The older marines I guess would go at my pace and the Finns, guided by the remarkable Poppis might catch me up. Poppis was not only an experienced guide and outdoors man but also an inventor of outdoor gear and quite a character. There were also 3 going from Messner Start including Robert the Pole and Lucy the Czech with Christian Styve as her guide. I am not sure where Per the Swede is starting probably Hercules Inlet also. In addition to that there was Sam and Patrick starting at Berkner Island on the outer coast. They were the purists. There was also Omar on his bicycle towing a pulk which will be interesting. So, in all there were 16 Expeditioners in all. The older Marines of Alan and I think Mike were also characters especially Alan while the steely Mike was nearly 68 years old.

The first half of the day was to the East of the Patriot Hills across the vast icefield. It rose very slightly but the surface of the snow got easier and easier until I could get a passable glide on my full skins. The pulk just capsized once and I repacked the top half and that seemed to lower its centre of gravity. The gradient eased as I went from perhaps 1 in 100 to almost flat. At the top with the smoother snow and the lack of sastrugi I felt I was cooking on gas. The pulk, a strain on the climb, was now at times barely noticeable. I found myself leaning forwards occasionally and reminded myself to be more upright and pull from the hips and keep the chest up. In short, I had to ski like a pigeon and not like a turtle.

As I skied, I could not help but think what was under me. Perhaps a kilometre of ice slowly flowing towards Inner Coast and the Ronne Ice Shelf where I started. I have heard it said that if Antarctica losses all its ice, then sea levels will rise by 67 metres. It seemed an excessive claim up to a week ago but now having seen the vast amount of ice here I can believe it.  Perhaps one day in 1000 years it will all be gone and a kilometre below me colonizer plants and scrub will be establishing themselves in the newly exposed moraine and eskers.

In the afternoon the skiing got even easier. I did not change skis to the one with the short skins as everything seemed to be working well. In fact, I think the ice sheet might have dipped slightly maybe at 200 to 1. It was virtually imperceptible to see but the skiing was quicker. I made good time and the pulk was more stable across the small sastrugi. In fact, I thought I could have been skiing down a Scandinavian lake were it not for the expansive ice fields. About 5 km before I stopped, I saw The Three Sails. It was a waypoint I had to head for and was composed of three nunataks in a line. Once I got there, I would have done about 50 km on this journey. As I skied towards them, they virtually sunk below the horizon as I skied south into a depression. I could have skied much longer in these great conditions but decided to call it a day a 1930. The sun was still warm and was burning my right cheek as it veered from behind me to ahead of me. I found a flatter area, set up the tent and started to melt the 7 litres of water I needed. After the obligatory check in phone call at 2100 I washed in come cold water with a facecloth and then started the blog. It had been a great day, and I was optimistic about tomorrow also.

Day 04. S 80º14.1736 W 80º37.2676 to S 80º24.8351 W 80º28.2534. 21 km. 8.5 hrs. 70m up. 70m down. 3470 Cal.  I got quite badly sunburnt on my cheeks and jawline yesterday despite them being on the shaded side. I think the reflection from the snow is enough. Today I would take more precautions and wore a buff to protect my neck and a small hat to cover my scalp. It was a bit windier today so I could get away covering up a bit before I started to sweat. It was still probably minus 10 but I could feel the sun warming my back. I smeared my lips and cheeks in sunblock and set off at 0900. Probably not a pretty sight but I would meet no-one today.

Initially the snow was good as I skied south past the distant Patriot Hills, possibly 20 km to the west. There was a grand array of peaks, likely composed of hard rock which rose up through the icesheet. All the rock I had seen so far, mostly from the plane seemed to be sedimentary. I made good time and with the early start I was eating up the kilometres and after 3 hours had already done 10. I stopped for lunch in the middle of the vast icesheet in the very slight breeze. The sun was shining, and it warmed anything black facing it. I sat on my pulk and ate the Clif bars and drank my first hot chocolate. Unfortunately, there was something wrong with my drinks mix. Either it stewed all night and lost its flavour, or the flask was imparting a metallic substance. I noticed it yesterday also and my drink tasted foul. I was sure it was stainless steel, but it looked matt now. It was a GSI Microlite 1 Litre, and I had 3 of them. I would try putting the next batch in lukewarm to avoid scalding the milk/chocolate mix. My Nalgene bottles did not have the taste and were sweet and delicious.

After lunch I thought I would be at the 3 sails in no time. However, it took ages to make any headway. The snows surface was ridged and furrowed, and also hard and unforgiving. my skis often crossed at the top of an ice mound, and I fell over twice, once when the strong elastic on the pulk trace heaved my back. As I ski towards the 3 sails, they started to disappear from sight, and I very gradually descended into a dip. I was using them as navigation as there was a way point nearby. With them disappearing I had to resort to my gadgets to navigate.

After a slow lumpy climb the tops of the 3 sails reappeared and with each step more and more of them were revealed. They were not high or dramatic nunataks but graceful like the sails of a schooner. I seemed no closer to them than I was a lunchtime, but the Patriot Hills were definitely starting to recede now. After the 3 sails there was nothing but the ice sheet. I imagined the Ancient Mariner must have felt like this as he sailed through the Pillars of Hercules and out into the vast Atlantic. There would have been a few rocky outcrops about to see him off before he ventured into the vast empty ocean expanse. The 3 sails were to be my last outcrops before I went forth into the all-encompassing and featureless expanse. I would see the odd distant nunatak but nothing significant until the Theil Mountains and they were still 3-4 weeks away. It really would be an isolating experience.

The snow got difficult towards the end of the day and was quite lumpy. It was always firm and had been since I left the plane. I occasionally tried short skins, but I slipped around too much on the small icy ridges so went back to the full skins. On one occasion I slipped, and my ski knocked and bent the clip holding the end of the skins to the rear end of the skin. I would have to bent it back later in the tent so put on one ski with short skins in addition the one with long skins. It got me thinking about the vulnerability of the skins. Once the glue was wet it would have to be dried before reattaching. In fact, all in all skins are somewhat vulnerable. If I was to buy my equipment again, I would definitely get a pair of Fisher Crown Base ski which have fishscales on them. Not are fast as skins and the connoisseurs look down on them but trouble free and reliable.

The last few km of the day were a bit laboured. Perhaps I was worrying about the ski skins, but I did not feel full of joy as I had previously in the trip. However, the sun was out and the wind was barely there so the evening was pleasant. I decided to camp at 1800. It would give me enough time to boil 7 litres and eat supper before my 2100 check in call. With the tent up and the vestibule facing south the sun soon warmed the tent and it felt cosy inside. I did my cooking duties, phoned ALE and then sent a few messages on the Garmin device which was quite remarkable. Sam still seemed to be going well and Jacob and Poppis were 2 days behind me. I also heard from Bex of the Fire Angels. I forgot to mention them yesterday. They were 2 Welsh girls, firefighters, skiing from Union Glacier to the South Pole. This brings the total number of Expeditioners to 18 this year, which must be something of a record for ALE. It had been a good day but not a great day and I was a bit worried about the hard snow conditions. The icy ridges might take a toll on my equipment.

Day 05. S 80º24.8351 W 80º28.2534 to S 80º35.5031 W 80º09.1850. 22 km. 8.5 hrs. 100m up. 90m down. 3340 Cal.  The locations where I camp are given in degrees as there is a lack of suitable landmarks. Imagine the world split into an orange with 360 segments, 180 West and 180 East. At the equator the distance across each segment is 60 nautical miles. Obviously when we leave the equator and head to the top or bottom of the segments the segment remains distinct but the distance across it reduces proportionally until it becomes virtually nothing.  This is called longitude. Now let us imagine two segments of the orange lying side by side so they form a circle. Then cut a segment of orange up into 180 equal portions, like a cake, and divide them into 90 North and 90 south. The outside edge of each of these portions, or degrees, is also 60 nautical miles, but unlike the longitude, the 360 segments of the orange, they stay at 60 nautical miles wherever their position. For my trip I can forget the longitude, it is irrelevant, but the latitude is important. I start at about South 80 Latitude and then go through all of the 80’s until I reach South 90 – which is the pole. So, I have to pass 10 degrees with each one being 60 nautical miles or roughly 11 km. So, the S figure in my campspot in today’s case is S 80º35.5031 and means 80 degrees and 35 minutes with a fraction of the minute in decimals. There are 60 minutes in a degree latitude also so when I get to S 80º59.9999 I am just a few steps from S 81º.  the degrees of latitude will become important for me as I ski down to S 90º the South Pole itself. As I said earlier each degree is 111 Kilometres and I have 10 to do of which I have done about half of one.

My face was still stinging from 2 days ago, so I covered up very well again with a hat, buff, and total sun block on the exposed areas. It was still not enough in this intense sun. The problem was my sunglasses kept steaming up as my breath was diverted into the buff. I could not really see my watch for navigation or indeed the lie of the snow and its ridges. Twice I fell forwards when a ski hit an unseen ridge. I also went backwards a couple of times which must have looked quite comical and the pulk refused to more and the strong bungee cord yanked me backwards off my feet. More seriously though something might break.

I decided to try the goggles. I have never used goggles in 40 years of ski touring. I always battered on in a ventile jacket and old sunglasses and thought goggles was for the Alpine ski slopes. However, putting them on was like having like having cataracts removed. Not only that but the face protection Fiona had made to sew onto the goggles covered my cheeks, nose, and top lip. I was sold. I can’t believe it took me 40 years to discover goggles but now I am a convert. Especially for these Julbo ones which pull of the face a bit to allow air circulation.

The snow was still quite lumpy for many kilometres after the Three Sails. Not quite full blown sastrugi but ridged and scalloped enough to make me work hard. Occasionally I looked round in a forlorn way to see if anybody was catching me up but there was nothing but an ocean of ice. In the receding distance was the Patriot Hills but they were getting smaller by the day. I stopped for lunch and had Mac and Cheese. I sat on my pulk and ate it in the sun with virtually no wind. Although it was about minus 10 it was warm in the sun. It was quite surreal to be sat here, totally isolated for everyone else and viewing this vast vista of ice and mountain. I was lucky too it was such magnificent weather. I was privileged indeed to experience such tranquil splendour, and indebted to be educated to such a level I could appreciate it.

 

After lunch the going got much easier as the snow became smoother. I still had the full skins on and was comfortable in them. I needed their traction to pull the 130 kg pulk and in anything less would have been tense. By midday any physical niggles I had like a stiff back had disappeared once I warmed up. So, I could ski carefree across the easier snow heading south into the ocean of ice. The last outpost of land was disappearing quickly. The goggles were fantastic, and my face was covered. The only issue I now had was that with the absence of any landmarks I strayed off the trail regularly. It had a few tools to keep me right. Firstly, a compass bearing taken from a GPS and it was about 180, secondly I could use the sun and the wind ribbon on my ski stick to keep a constant like my shadow at 1200 hrs or the wind ribbon at 0700 hrs and lastly I had the route on my watch as a track and this was my main means of sticking to the line. Nonetheless with my mind in neutral and the skis swishing away I often found myself a few hundred metres each side of it. It was not important, but it meant it zig-zagged a bit.

It was really a lovely afternoon’s ski, and I was full of optimism and the worries of yesterday were now diminished. No doubt something will happen to some equipment again soon and I will have to find a fix for it but in the meantime, I could enjoy the peace and lack of worry. I did get a few messages from others, and they seemed to be experiencing a bit of grief. Sam on his long trip was bogged down in deep snow with a 170 kg pulk on Berkner Island. He was a tough guy though Sam and I sure he would push on. The Fire Angels were also on sticky snow today, the wrong side of Hercules Inlet. I feared for their speed of progress, and I feared worse for Omar on the bicycle and could just not see how it would be possible to make progress in this uneven snow, especially towing a pulk. Still no news of the young Turks of Jacob, Pierre, Missy Desktop or the Finns under the experienced Poppis, all of whom were behind me, probably a few more days. I could have pushed on more, but I thought it best to keep it under 8 hours in the beginning so camped just before 1900 hrs. As usual I angled the tent so the sun would heat the vestibule in the night and dry my sweaty clothes. It was another magnificent day; the type of day Norwegians dream of when they flock to the winter mountains at Easter.

Day 06. S 80º35.503 W 080º09.185 to S 80º45.670 W 08000.345  20 km. 7 hrs. 70m up. 100m down. 2830 Cal.  It was yet another good day in prospect when I opened the tent. The 2 solar panels were working well inside the tent to charge the 2 battery banks I had. They would even charge in the inner tent laid on the floor. I was getting quite well rehearsed now in my morning routine. After breakfast in bed, I put all the gadgets, tools, medicines, drinks containers and stove system into one of 5 soft material boxes. They were all red to keep the tent looking warm. I then zipped up the sleeping bag, and mattress into its lime green protective cover and threw everything outside. I then put my boots on, zipped up the tent and loaded the 5 red material boxes into the pulk. I then split the tent poles in half and folded the half not in the sleeve over and rolled the tent up and put it into a long ripstop tube. This tube went inside the pulk beside the red boxes. Then the sleeping system went on top and the skis I was not using on to again. There were pockets in the lime green material bag for thinks I might need like a Gore-Tex jacket of mittens but up to now had not used. It generally took me half an hour to pack.

Today I started on full skins. The conditions were quite fast and the pulk runners slid nicely on the hard morning snow. I skied all morning and had done 10 km by midday. It was the fastest ski of the trip yet. After lunch I tried the skis with the short skins, and they were OK but not as good as the long skins, so I switched back. In the ridged condition, which the Norwegians would call Skare, the short section with the skin might not be in contact with the snow and I would slip back. It was unnerving and tense so I switched back, especially as I could see a small climb coming up.

The goggles continued to be fantastic, and the cheek and nose protection worked perfectly with the soft-shell wool jacket and zip to cover virtually my entire face and I was slowly recovering from being battered by the sun 3-4 days ago at the start. I noticed my clothes were also a bit looser now, especially the salopettes which I wore constantly. A week ago, if the button ripped loose and popped off it would have taken someone’s eye out but now it was just straining gently. I was also getting a bit more agile, but still groaned when I stood up after kneeling. It would be a while before I could get off the floor keeping my hands in my pockets.

I stopped for lunch and sat on the back of the pulk having one last look at the Patriot Hills and Heritage Range before they disappeared into the distance. I was about to head into the ocean of ice, but I did notice 2 lofty nunataks sticking out in the middle of the ice. They were at least 50 kilometres away. My hot chocolate was foul again from the thermos, and I had to pour it away. I realized that the problem was the milk was forming culture in the flask. It was a really bitter taste and made butter milk taste pleasant. I would have to rethink my drinks and now add hot water to the milk/chocolate in a Nalgene bottle. At least the thermos did keep it warm for 24 hours.

After lunch I tried the short skins again but soon reverted. The snow was really quite good with no sastrugi and smaller skarve. I made good time however by about 17 km I noticed a small pain on the left side of the left knee. I decided to call it a day at 1800 after 20 km rather than try for a couple more and run the risk of injury. I fold a flat spot and put the tent up. I took 15 minutes until I was inside getting the stove going. Despite the -10 outside and the 10 knot wind it was soon cosy inside. I was only 1800 which meant an early night. I rinsed the contaminated flasks with hot water and filled them with hot water. I cooked the dehydrated tea and then made my obligatory 2100 hrs phone call to ALE. it seems people were a day or two behind and everyone was reporting OK conditions. I wrote the blog trying not to fall asleep in my sleeping bag and eventually crashed out at 2200 – a record for me as its often midnight.

Day 07.  S 80º45.670 W 08000.345 to S 80º53.512 W 080º04.207. 15 km. 5 hrs. 20m up. 80m down. 1910 Cal.  It was quite windy in the morning, perhaps a Force 4. However, the spindrift was barely moving across the surface of the snow. It was millions of tiny pieces of snow and ice, small and spherical, flowing endlessly across the snow, ultimately north in Antarctica, until it found a drift to latch onto and become part of. The wind just made it more difficult to do things, like wrap up the tent as one had to be careful not to slip you grasp on anything, especially the tent. Otherwise, it would be off and much faster than I could run! It also made it a bit colder on the hands. However, it was a bright bright day, and the sun was fierce. it is difficult to underestimate the ferocity of the sun and its UV power. I am not sure if the Ozone hole has been filled in again. I think it has. But the rays are strong and are present 24 hours a day as the sun goes around overhead. I was only now repairing the carnage the sun had done to my lips on the first two days with constant smearing of lip balm and total cover by clothes.

It was perhaps -10 and the snow was quite firm. It seemed to be best in the morning when the sun was at its lowest. It was a skarve, with small holes and scallops. The pulk moved like a dream across it and my skis slid well also so progress was quite fast. I think I might have been going down very slightly as the resistance was minimal. it was really a lovely ski and in 3 hours I had covered so 10 km and stopped quite early for lunch at midday. The biggest of the Patriot Hills were just poking above the ice horizon as I sat on my pulk and had Mac and Cheese. I solved the problem with the foul-tasting milk culture in the flask by just keeping hot water in the flask, from the night before, and adding it to the milk as I needed it in a Nalgene bottle. It was cold in the wind, so I sat with my back to it with my full Gore-Tex jacket over my skiing jacket.

After lunch the lovely conditions continued but I think I started to go up slightly on the undulating ice. It was difficult to tell with the naked eye and I just noticed it when the resistance increased, and my watch started to show some altitude gain. It was very gradual at perhaps a metre every 5 minutes. The snow was the best of the trip so far and the ridges in the skarve formations were small. Occasionally there would be completely flat patches. It was a far cry from the lumpy skarve and medium sastrugi on the climb up from Hercules Inlet over the first 2-3 days. In fact, the skiing now was a joy. It was still too uneven for me to switch completely to the small skins, but I am sure most Norwegians would have done so.

After a couple of easy hours after lunch I noticed the pain in my knee coming back. It was on the outside of the left knee. I know little of the anatomy of the knee other than it is complicated but for some reason though it was a cruciate ligament and it had been straining a bit over the last week and was now slightly inflamed. I also though it could be the start of it tearing which would be a trip ending event, so I decided to be cautious and call it a day. it was just 1400 and were it not for this could have gone on for another few hours. I had done 15 kilometres already which was an acceptable amount anyway. I put the tent up with the vestibule facing north and the lower end into the wind and was soon inside.

I was quite a luxury to have the whole afternoon to relax in the warm tent. Outside it was minus 11 but inside in was plus 20. I boiled the 6 litres of water and then turned off the jet engine of the stove to enjoy the silence. The stove is an MSR XGK 11. It is a solid little stove with few moving parts and it not adjustable. It is either on and roaring away or off and quiet. There are other options, but they are not as reliable. Indeed, I still have my 25-year-old MSR XGK 1 and use it from time to time in Nepal, where everything else clogs up on the dubious kerosene.

I then hung all my slightly damp clothing up on the clothes lines in the tent and clipped them there with beech cloths pegs. They would dry in no time in this heat. Some items, especially my wool skiing jacket which I would use in all but the worst weather, was starting to smell like a wet dog and that was just after a week. I can imagine after 8 it will be quite rich. I made my mattress into a chaise longue by raising the end, pulled the sleeping back over me and started to write the blog. However, the comfort and warmth soon overwhelmed me and I dozed for an hour. It might be hard to believe that in this extremely isolated and inhospitable place, in the middle of a vast icesheet one could find such comfort.

As the afternoon wore on, I got a few messages for other skiers. Sam was still on Berkner Island 500 kilometres away and after a week of hard slog had at last had a nicer day with firmer snow and Jacob was still in good spirits by the 3 sails and the Finns under the characterful Poppis were also there. I could reassure Jacob and Poppis that the conditions were about to get better. No news of Omar on his bike, Pierre who I would expect to catch up soon and Alan and Mike, the older ex marines. It was comforting to know there were others on the ice even if they were 50 km away. I finished the blog and dinner well before my scheduled check in at 2100. I had taken 2 Ibuprofen with each meal since midday and my knee was totally forgotten about, so I probably won’t speak to the doctor today as tomorrow is Medical Monday when we all have to speak to either Doctor Isla or Doctor Paddy for our weekly check-up which the very professional ALE provide.

Day 08.  S 80º53.512 W 080º04.207 to S 81º02665 W 080º 02.141. 18 km. 7 hrs. 90m up. 110m down. 2260 Cal.  It was not that nice when I woke at about 0500. The sun was off course still up as it never set but it was behind a layer of cloud so there was not the solar gain, and the tent was cold. In addition, there was a good wind outside, not quite a force 5 but enough to rattle the tent and have all the promise for a cold day. I put on an extra layer in anticipation and had to use the cosier but less dexterous Hestra gloves to take the tent down as my usual OR Backstop were not enough. I packed everything into the pulk without allowing too much spindrift in.

Initially my knee was OK but after a few kilometres it started to hurt again. I analysed the movement which aggravated it, and it seemed it was due to my lower leg moving forwards rather than what I expected it to be which was straining to straighten the leg and move forward. I was still in the full skins, and they had a fair bit of friction in them especially as I often had to lift the tip as Colltex had changed the front rubber clips and they often caught on the snow. I decided to change to the short skins as the conditions now warranted it anyway. They glided forwards much more easily and after a kilometre I did not feel the knee anymore. Hallelujah. Unless I hit large sastrugi and had to switch to full skins again this was the solution. My arms had to work harder as I could no longer plough forwards like a tractor and had to put more power into them. Perhaps different parts of my body had to take it in turns to have a bit of pain.

I was glad I had an extra wool layer under the goretex shell. It was the first time I had both the goretex salopettes, which I virtually live in, and the goretex jacket on. I felt a bit trussed up, but I was covered head to toe and felt warm. Importantly my cheeks and upper lip were covered by the goggles and the flap below them and my lower lip by the merino jacket. The flow of dry cold air over them still aggravated the sunburn from a week ago but it was subsiding. I even got sunburnt on the tip of my tongue then.

I was too cold to fiddle around and get the camera out for photos. Not that there was much to take. The mountains had disappeared, and it was just this vast icefield as far as the eye could see. At the top of a small rise, I just saw what I assumed were the Pirrit Hills and a vast monolith of a nunatak beside them called Moreland Nunatak which stood up steeply from the icefield. They were perhaps 40-50 kilometres to my west, and I would see them from time to time today.

The snow was good, and I could see from my watch I was going down ever so slightly. I made good time and within 3 hours I had made 9 km and I felt great. The weather was not as fierce as it was earlier, and I thought to have lunch on my pulk. I got the pizza delivery box out and poured water from my flasks on my mac and cheese and into my Nalgene bottle with the chocolate and milk mix which was now delicious compared to the rancid culture a few days ago. I could see none of the Young Turks approaching.

After lunch the almost imperceptible undulations continued. The wind was now just a force 4 and the sun barely visible. It made the light quite flat and lacking in contrast. I needed this contrast to ski towards features in the snow but without it I was just going on my shadow, I was often skiing into my shadow, or the wind direction ribbon. However, it was hard not to unconsciously turn so I was going parallel with the ridges of skave snow rather than diagonally over it, as I should, but which was more effort. I frequently had to correct myself. After another 3 hours I stopped for more chocolate drink and a biscuit and had intended to go more but the pain started to come back in my knee soon after I restarted. The snowfields were good, and I could camp anywhere at will so after 18 km stopped and pitched the tent. This time I made sure the vestibule was facing south to catch the night sun, warm the tent and charge the batteries. I seemed to have a surplus of power with the two solar chargers.

I think my body is suffering a little from the weight I put on before I started. I had gone from slightly above my fighting weight to plump. Carrying too much weight takes its toll on the body just like too much snow on a Christmas tree will take a toll on the branches. Eventually limbs start to ache and break. I can see I am getting slightly more agile now as I lose weight and by the end of this trip should be in fine shape and ready to lead an active life. The test will be to see if I am able to stand up from lying on the floor while keeping my hands in my pockets.

Just before I stopped, I crossed the 81-degree line. I had skied a whole slice of the cake I talked about a few days ago, from 80 degrees to 81 degrees. It was 60 nautical miles or about 111 kilometres. I still had another 9 degrees to ski, but it was nice to get one out of the way. I also had to start a new food bag as I had already gone through one. Each bag contains 7 days of rations, and I had 7 left. I did a quick calculation and see that I had to ski just over 20 kilometres a day for the next 49 days to reach the South Pole at 90 degrees. It was quite feasible as I would get fitter hopefully and my pulk would get considerably lighter losing over 10 kg per week.

Once inside the tent surrounded by down feathers, I was soon warm and relaxed in the orange/yellow glow. It was -11 outside, -21 with the windchill but inside the tent it was 14 degrees. As always it was a luxurious end to the day to lounge around for a few hours and eat supper. One day there will be a storm, but I can secure the tent to make it much more solid and half bury the sides with snow to see it out. The was not so much chat on the Garmin messenger service with the other expeditioners this evening but I did speak to Doctor Isla at ALE as it was Medical Monday and told her about my knee.

 

Day 09. S 81º02.665 W 080º 02.141 to S 81º05.880 W 080º02.305. 6 km. 2.5 hrs. 20m up. 60m down. 1120 Cal.  It was a force 5 in the morning and overcast with little solar warmth. I had to be careful when taking the tent down not to lose anything in the wind. I have a security line on the tent which I attach to the line I drag the pulk with which I used this morning. If I lost a grip of the tent, it would be off quicker that I could ski. My hands got a little cold, but they soon warmed up when I started to ski. I have poggies on my ski sticks and they are fantastic as they keep the wind off completely. Before long the cold in the fingers was replace by the hot aches as blood rushed into them. I had overdressed this morning and I soon had to stop to take off my wool jacket and put on the goretex jacket. The wool jacket is totally unsuitable to skiing if there is any spindrift as it would soon get covered.

I headed south for a couple of kilometres over easy snow and was feeling quite good physically but there was a slight twinge in the knee. It was on the left-hand side of the left-hand knee, at the bony protrusion and perhaps 2 cm forward of the large tendon which comes down the back on the knee on the outside. As the kilometres progressed it got slightly worse and after 4 km I stopped for a biscuit. However, it did not go away. It was not that painful, but I am just worried that if I pushed it, I would cause more damage. After 2 km it was not going away as I warmed up, so I decided to call it a day at around 1200.

My knees have never troubled me before, and I was not expecting it. I was more worried about my back but not my knees. Some might say I pushed it too much on the first week and I was a bit too greedy to get the kilometres in and perhaps keep up with the pack. I would say there is a lot of truth in this, and I should have limited my skiing to 6 hours a day for the first week and then increased it by an hour a week thereafter. However, the situation is now that there is an inflamed tendon and I have to throw everything at it to resolve it otherwise it might become a trip ending injury. As I put the tent up, I could feel nothing wrong and once in the tent it was fine, but I would have to rest it. So, I decided to take the rest of the day off and all of tomorrow also.

I will hit it with Ibuprofen and try and put a small ice pack on it and keep it rested. Then in two days’ time I will go for a small 3-hour ski and keep it at that for a while until I am confident, I can stretch things again.  One thing I do have on my side at the moment is time and I still have nearly 50 days of food to do exactly 1000 km. It is a good week worth of food more than most people have. However, I cannot say I am not disappointed to have accrued this injury so early. I remember a good friend of mine in Norway warning me about getting “belastningsskader” a couple of weeks into my Norge Paa Langs on skis. Well, it seems I have got a “belastningsskader” and will have to nurse it for a while.

Once in the tent I had a snooze. The spindrift swirled outside, and I could hear sliding off the tent when it built up a bit. There was little solar gain as the sun was behind the cloud. I had dozed for a couple of hours when suddenly I heard something outside. It must be Pierre. I knew he was a short distance behind me. I unzipped the fly and right enough it was Pierre. We chatted for a good 5 minutes. It seemed he had a similar problem and he thought it was also caused by his full skins. I noticed he was on his mohair short skins now. The best of the best. I have a pair too and might put them on when I leave here.

He was completely kitted out for the weather and even had his Air Avenger mask on and a large Wolverine ruff. With him getting cold outside and spindrift blowing into the tent our conversation was swift. We exchanged numbers and I zipped up tent and he clipped into his harness and slipped away into the weather.

It was good seeing Pierre. He was one of the Young Turks I was waiting to catch me up. He would now be the leader of this year’s Peloton of skiers heading from Hercules Inlet to the South Pole. There would be no material benefit to following in his tracks because there would be none. However, there was some psychological comfort knowing he was out there forging the way. I expected to see Jacob or even Omar on his bicycle next. The tent was not that warm due to the lack of sun, but it was nice to spend the afternoon lazing in it. Having to spend a whole day in it tomorrow through should be quite boring but necessary.

Day 10. S 81º05.880 W 080º02.305. 0 km. 0 hrs. 0m up. 0m down. 0 Cal. As my knee was not fully recovering, I had already decided to throw everything at it today to see if I could stop it worsening. And that meant taking a day off and staying in bed. When I heard the wind outside and unzipped the flysheet to see a force 5 with a good bit of spindrift and light snow, I was not sorry. I could not just roll over and go back to sleep as I had to get up, get fully dressed and then go outside and clear the snow which had built up on the vestibule especially. It was remarkable to see how big and long the drift was down wind of the tent which had formed just in one night due to the changed aerodynamics of my tent being there. That done it was back into the tent to disrobe and crawl back into my still warm sleeping bag. I dozed on and off until lunchtime midmorning.

I then sent a long string of messages to my favourite Veterinarian, who was up to speed on the knee anyway. It seemed I had inflamed my IT Band right at the bottom of the femur. It was not a catastrophe and was eminently treatable. Firstly RICE. I was Resting, Ice was in abundance everywhere, so I put some snow from the porch in a ziploc bag and then stuffed it down my leggings to the knee joint. I did not bother with Compression and as I was horizontal, I did not bother Elevating. In addition to that I took 3 more nurofen today. I was also given some exercise to do. One of which involved rolling on a cylinder.

Everyone who camps in the snow knows the comfort of a pee bottle. It saves getting out of you sleeping bag and going out into the snow. Mine is a pink Nalgene bottle with flowers on it. The main exercise I had to do was lie on my left side quite rigidly, almost like planking. Then I had to put the cylinder under my hip and propel myself forwards keeping rigid, so the cylinder rolled down to my knee and stretched the IT Band. I had to do this 4 times twice a day. I could have used my thermos flasks, but I think I would have crushed them, so the pee bottle was ideal. My tent floor had an insulated covering and under that was hard snow. It was perfect for a gym floor once the sleeping system was raised to one side. I got in position and rolled up the tent floor using the bottle as a fulcrum until my head was in the vestibule over the hole, I dig so I can sit up. I did this 4 times and could feel the muscle and tendon stretching. I was then back to more snoozing for the afternoon while the poor weather continued.

On the positive side my lips which had got so burnt a week ago and previously felt like they had been botoxed with hot lava were now starting to calm down completely. Despite using 100% sun block I had a trout pout for a few days. With much bee’s wax and face coverings I had nursed them back to normal and today inside all day and it being dull made a huge difference. Even in the tent there is risk of getting sunburnt and my solar chargers work beside me when I sleep if the sun is out.

It is easy to let negative thoughts accrue in a long trip, especially if conditions are unpleasant, or things are not going well. I noticed on the PCT walk in the US many hikers listened to headphones. I questioned one as to why he thought this was better than the sound of the wind in the pines or babbling brooks or even the iconic call of the Hermit Thrush. He said if he didn’t, he would have the same thoughts going round and round in his head for days and often they were negative. I totally knew where he was coming from as I had also noticed it. Had I slogged on today with a sore knee into the half-hearted blizzard I would have struggled to keep positive. However now I am positive and hope I can regain full fitness in a week or so. Tomorrow I will just to 3 hours skiing – even if it is a perfect day – and then camp. I will slowly build it up again. I still have the luxury of time on my side even if I only do 100 km in the next week. And my pulk is getting lighter by the day.

Day 11. Nov 30th. S 81º05.880 W 080º02.305 to S81º09.903 W 080º02.853. 8 km. 3.5 hrs. 60m up. 60m down. 1730 Cal. My knee felt fine this morning. However, it had felt good most of the time except at the end of a day which were increasingly getting shorter due to it. I had done pretty much everything I could, and I just could not spend another day in bed. My idea was to build up slowly now. So today I aimed to do about 8 km or 3 hours. There was no hurry at all and when I looked out of the tent it was overcast with a flat light with little contrast. It would make it difficult to pick out the nuances of the snow. I did my IT Band stretches and was reading to start packing up when far on the horizon I saw 2 skiers. It must be Alan and Mike I thought, and they would more than likely swing by to say hello. When I looked 15 minutes later, I saw it was just one skier. I knew who it was, and they were trying to do it as quickly as possible. They also wanted to keep it under wraps a bit, so I won’t say more. They gave me a wide berth and continued past my tent at half a kilometre’s distance, so I carried on with my packing. By the time I was out of the tent, had packed my pulk and was ready to set off they were a distant dot about to get swallowed by the poor light.

For the first step my knee felt good. I was nervous about it and was tuned in to see if I could feel anything, but I could not and that was a relief. The snow of yesterday had smoothed over the snowfields beautifully and most of the ridges and scallops of the skare had been filed by it. It was easy skiing but the pulk was a bit more of a drag because of the ankle-deep snow. My short skins were coping well. However, the light was very poor, and it was difficult to see the nuances of the snow and the ups and down. Hence it was difficult to put on a small spurt to overcome a small rise or move slightly left or fight to avoid a divot. A few caught me out and one made me fall over. Had it been sunny bright clear weather today would have been an excellent ski. After an hour and a half, I had done 4 easy kilometres and thought I would take lunch rather than blast through the 3 hours in one go.

I sat on my pulk and rehydrated the macaroni and poured hot water onto the powdered chocolate drink in my Nalgene bottle. It was cold at about minus 14 and the wind was force 4, so there was quite a wind chill. After lunch I just had an hour and a half left to ski for today’s quota so experimented with the different head coverings, goggles, and mouth pieces I had.  The “cold avenger” mask which Pierre was wearing in the photo a few days ago was good but it interfered with the flap I had sewn onto the bottom of the goggles. The flap gets a lot of moisture on it and was frozen, so I had to get my other goggles out and with them it worked fine for an hour. I then tried the neoprene balaclava for winter motorcycle racing. They worked well but was a bit tight and I noticed some ice building up inside the goggles with these on. I also spent time adjusting my compass holder which is a chest strap with a protrusion to hold the compass at eye level, so I don’t have to look down to see my bearing. These are remarkably accurate but not as convenient as having the route course on your watch.

After 8 km my knee was still completely OK. It could have been tempting to go on, but the visibility was poor, and both goggles needed some work on them. I chose a random spot pretty much on the marked GPX route and put the tent up. It did not take long before I was inside with everything hanging on the drying lines. There was little solar gain in the tent, and it barely crept above zero. There was also no sun to charge the batteries. Luckily, I had an abundance of power which would last 4-5 days, but I would need the sun soon to charge the gadgets. In the later afternoon I put the back of the thermarest up and sat in my sleeping bag and had Clif Bars and hot chocolate. I intended to write the blog after that but fell asleep upright. When I woke there was tepid glow in the tent which was now 5 degrees plus. The sun was not far away and could come anytime in the night to turn the tent into a drying room. I was pleased with today and even if I had been fighting fit, I would not have done more that 20 km because of the light. I will up my distance tomorrow marginally and of course do my exercises and ice my knee tonight.

Day 12. Dec 1st. S 81º09.903 W 080º02.853 to S81º15.152 W080º03.464.  10 km. 3.5 hrs. 30m up. 40m down. 1530 Cal. At odds with the forecast, it was bright and sunny outside. Perhaps the first sun for 3-4 days. It made such a difference to the mood. In the bright clear light, the snow almost shone and every ridge or change in surface was crystal clear. I thought there was a tent about a km from me last night but now in the clear light I could see it was the massive sugar loaf bulk of Moreland Nunatak. It rose straight out of the ice to a great height and was steep on all sides. It stood defiant against the ice sheet unwilling to be eroded away like so many of its neighbours. It was much easier to pack up without the wind and I was more optimistic about the day.

The snow was good, and I made speed across it. Sometimes the pulk just followed like a Jack Russel. Its runners just sliding easily over the crests of the ridged snow. The suddenly it the dug in like a St Bernard wanting to sniff and I had to lean forwards to pull it through the softer snow. It was a easy hour and a half to my first break but which time I had already done 4 km. There was a twinge in the knee but not the one that concerned me as it was in a different place. The headpiece I was wearing seemed to work well and it did not fog up the goggles at all. It was the winter motorcycle racing hood which was a fully face covering mask. It was made by FXR racing. At the first break I stopped for my main lunch which was all in the refreshment’s cabinet along with the hot chocolate. The only problem with the hood is I had to remove it to eat. Moreland Nunatak stood proud far to the west.

The next 4 kilometres were much the same. The sun came a went a bit more now so I to concentrate on the direction more as I could not use my shadow all the time as a compass. Usually on the bearing I am skiing on which is 142 degrees I am skiing directly into my shadow at 1400 in the afternoon. After another 4 km in an hour and a half I stopped again. This time just for a Clif Bar and more hot chocolate. My knee still felt fine, so I continued. However, after another kilometre I felt the first twinge of what I had been searching for. It was the slight discomfort in the IT Band at the bottom of the femur. I skied on slowly for another kilometre hoping it might pass but it did not. Wary I might undo all the remedial work I had done in the last 3 days I searched for a spot to camp with a firm base so I could do my rolling exercises.

Putting the tent up and cooking the 7 litres of water was now a well-practiced routing and I found it second nature. As the southerly wind forecast was going down to a force 3 I decided to put the vestibule facing south. That way the solar gain was all the more should the sun come out and it would warm the tent, charge my batteries and dry the slightly damp clothing all the more. As usual in the evening, the bush telegraph started up and there were many texts on Garmin inreach messenger. Pierre was now 50 km ahead as was the anonymous skier who overtook me yesterday morning and Jacob was about level with me but far to the west. They all asked about my knee as did Sam who was doing fantastically well on Berkner Island on a different route. I had hoped to get a few more kilometres out of today but have to adjust everything to the foibles of one knee. It is a bit frustrating to see everyone overtake me and disappear over the horizon to the south. If my knee does sort itself out, I will be like a coiled spring and if not there is a plan B which I am formulating, as I need to do 20 km a day not 10 km.

Day 13. Dec 2nd. S 81º15.152 W 080º03.464 To S 81º20.929 W 080º03.970. 12 km. 4.5 hrs. 50m up. 50m down. 1770 Cal. I did not have a good night as I was worrying about my knee. It would be crushingly disappointing if I had to end my trip because of it after so much time and expense planning for it. If my knee did not repair sufficiently, I could ski on at about 8-10 km a day to the halfway point at Thiel Fuel Cache where ALE planes regularly landed. It was still 420 km to the south and in fact my next waypoint. If my knee went downhill more to the extent, I could not move then I could always get rescued, but the ignominy of that would be much to bear having never have been rescued before. On the other hand, my knee might recover completely. Certainly, the other one was like a coiled spring rearing to go.

In the morning it was overcast and dull. There was a very flat light, and it was difficult to see where horizon stopped, and the sky took over. Everything was white in this low cloud. The visibility was perhaps half a kilometre, but it was difficult to tell without any reference. Just as I was finishing packing the tent into the pulk I spotted two very small figures in the distance, perhaps 2 kilometres away. It could only be Alan Chalmers and his friend Mike – both ex marines and Mike being nearly 68. It looked like they were heading south parallel to my track but a good 2 km to the west. Jacob and the Finns under Poppis were also even further to the west. We were all on a compass bearing of 141 degrees. However, I was adhering to the imaginary line between the Three Sails and the next way point at Thiel Fuel Cache. After I set off, I quickly lost sight of them as the undulations of the icesheet got in the way.

I skied an hour and a half and did 4 km. It was quite taxing navigation wise. There were no reference points and no sun to cast a shadow. The only consistent thing was the wind ribbon on my ski stick, but it was often limp as the breeze was very small. I used the chest mounted compass, but it demanded a lot of attention, and I used my Garmin watch which had the route marked on it. The latter was the most precise. It had snowed a little in the night and it was still just snowing, and the terrain was great. The new snow had filled in the imperfections of the skave and the skiing was fast and easy. I had the small nylon skins on, and they slid beautifully over the snow and created just enough friction to pull the pulk. It slid behind me quite easily. After 4 km I stopped for a drink and a rest. My knee felt good and after a short break I continued.

The snow surface was even better now but the visibility was worse. I kept seeing mirage especially in the form of a rocky mountain ahead. A few times I also thought I saw people. There was nothing of course except me and my eyes imagination. Although the snow was good the visibility stopped me from going faster as I could only shuffle across the snow because there were still some ridges to catch me out and one did, and I fell forwards. I stopped for my second break after another hour and a half. The visibility had opened up behind me and I saw Alan and Mike again. They were still 2 km away and further to the west.

My knee still felt OK although I could just feel it if I focused on it, so I set off for another 2 or 4 km. But now the cloud had lifted a bit, and the visibility was good. The snow was also excellent and given the improved vision I could now stride out. The pulk followed obediently and I made good time. There were even hints of blue sky on the horizon. It was the best skiing of the trip so far and if it remained like this to the South Pole I would be delighted. It was still 980 km away. When I got to 10 km the knee was still fine, so I went the other two and was just starting to feel it. The wind had dropped completely when I found some firm flat snow to camp on. The tent went up easily the large pets getting a good grip in the firm surface. It was only 1600 hrs.

With the tent up I boiled the 7 litres of water I needed and then another litre to wash in with my flannel. smalling of soap for the first time in a while I got into my sleeping bag for an early supper and then wrote the blog with the clothes lines full of damp clothes drying. There was a little sun outside and it made all the difference to the tent temperature. Perhaps as much as 20 degrees more if the sun was shining.  After the last few days, the battery chargers were also picking up enough light to charge the power banks. It had been a good day the snow was excellent, and my knee was certainly improving. I am not out of the woods yet and will have to take the next week relatively carefully should I not have to revert to a couple of days rehabilitation in the tent.  I realized at the end of the day I had taken no photos all day such was the unappealing light and views.

Day 14. Dec 3rd. S 81º20.929 W 080º03.970 to S 81º27.524 W 080º04656. 14 km. 5.5 hrs. 60m up. 70m down. 1900 Cal. It was quite miserable in the morning. There was a very small amount of new snow falling from an overcast dull sky. It was not that cold at about minus 7 but it felt it. The was little wind. There was virtually no horizon, and the snowfield was a uniform smear of dull white without any contrast at all. It could be difficult skiing and it would certainly be taxing to navigate with no shadow or wind ribbon or landmarks. I packed up early and was off by 0800 as the forecast was for the wind to get up later.

As soon as I left, I could see the two skiers I saw yesterday. It must be Alan and Dave (who I previously referred to as Mike). I could see we were going to meet with the trajectory we were both on, so I speeded up a bit to be in front of them. After an hour and a half skiing, I had done 4 km and was ready for a break and they were half a kilometre or so behind me. By the time I had finished they were approaching. It was them in their blue Mountain Equipment suits covered in charitable events for the UK Forces. They were both ex marines and had led some polar expeditions with the forces. Indeed, Alan is something of a polar legend and guide. One of his more recent trips was guiding the 3 founders of Google on an Antarctic expedition. They were so impressed by him they gave him money to come on this trip with a friend, namely Dave. They were not here to set records but were just two old buddies out to have a trip to themselves. They were well loaded down as they hope to do the Hercules Inlet to South Poe unsupported. As Alan arrived, I said to him “Doctor Chalmers I presume. I have been expecting you” which made him chuckle.

We had a brief chat about how we found the trip so far and they asked me if I needed anything to which I said “No”. There are strict rules to going “unsupported” and even accepting a mug of coffee would invalidate the claim. After about 5 minutes we parted company with them walking for another 10 minutes to their hourly break and me eager to get going as the wind was getting up and it was cold. With us both navigating using different systems, Alan with his compass and me with my GPS watch we soon went on slightly different trajectories into the white gloom. Occasionally I caught sight of them during the course of the next 10 km as we drifted apart.

After the chance meeting the remainder of the afternoon was getting easier and easier. Firstly, it became less gloomy and there was a bit of contrast to the snow at last so as least I could see the ridges and hollows before I hit them blind. Then a patch of blue sky opened up in the distance exactly where I want to be heading. It was my navigational landmark. Without landmarks, navigation must rely on instruments, and it is fiddly and time consuming. Sometimes the instruments say one thing and intuition says another. Off course intuition is always wrong but it sows doubt and erodes confidence. Soon the small patch grew, and it was coming my way.

The snow was now easy to ski on and I glided well on the skis. I could see where the small ridges were on the gentle skarve so I could thrust a bit more to get the pulk over them rather than being caught unawares and heaving to haul it over with no momentum. I stopped for a short break of biscuits and a litre of chocolate drink before pushing on. The wind was increasing a bit but there was no spindrift yet. Most importantly my knee was not causing any major issues. I could feel it, but it was well within my worry zone. Even as I reached the 14 km mark, I could have gone on but thought it prudent to stop. It was only 1500 hrs, early afternoon really. The wind was increasing all the time also and it was a force 4 now.

I had the tent up quickly. I risked pitching the vestibule into the wind so I could get more solar gain in the porch to charge batteries. I covered the flaps which surround the tent in snow to help anchor it, pegged out a few more guy ropes on the south facing vestibule side and put everything in. I then secured the pulk and went into the vestibule and dug a half metre deep hole so I could sit comfortably with my feet in the hole. I then disrobed my face and head and fired up the stove and started melting 6 litres of water and boiling much of it. I was only using 180 ml a fuel a day using this method cooking once a day. Once the boiling was done, I withdrew into the inner tent and got changed.

It was not a good force 6 outside and the wind roared round the tent. The flaps at the side meant no spindrift was blown in and there was a lot of it about. The wind chill must have been minus 20 or more. However, inside the tent it was bright and warm as the sun arrived and blasted through the walls. Once my batteries warmed up, they started to charge quickly placed on the bags inside. The drying rack was warm, and I knew everything would dry quickly. I had a full 3mm mat across the entire groundsheet and it was black and also absorbed the heat. It was like being inside a greenhouse. I checked my thermometer at one stage on the drying rack in the roof and it measured 31.5 degrees. It was fantastically cosy and yet just the other side of the thin fly it was bitterly cold. I was very comfortable writing the blog. It had been a good day I was now up to 14 km a day with my knee. It would be nice to get 16 tomorrow but I must not undue the last weeks self-nursing.

Day 15. Dec 4. S 81º27.524 W 080º04656 to S 81º36.805 W 080º05.673. 16 km. 6.5 hrs. 70m up. 50m down. 2340 Cal. It was windy in the night, and it was still windy in the morning. A good force 5 if not a 6. The wind had blown the spindrift into a huge ridge some 50 metres long and half a metre high down wind of the tent. Even the pulk had created its own snow drift in its lee. However, it was bright and sunny and that lured me out of bed. I knew it was going to be cold packing up the tent, so I put my jacket on also. I wore my thicker gloves for this as I needed dexterity and warmth. One of my biggest fears is losing something in the wind. I have spare gloves and mitts and they are all on leashes but to lose the tent would be a nightmare and a trip ending mishap.

A bit later than I wanted I set off at 0930. The wind was bitterly cold, and I had to ski a bit to warm up enough to take my larger gloves off and put on my daily OR Backstop sensor gloves – one of the best bits of kit I have. I put my hands in these smaller gloves into the poggies which are also fantastic. The two work well together to give me the dexterity and warmth when I do a small task like undo zippers or tighten buckles.  However, the spindrift was all over the surface of the previously hard snow and it made it quite frozen sand. The pulk would not slide as easily on the matt surface as on a glossy surface. I found myself leaning forwards more than normal to get the pulk to slide. I knew it would take its toll on my knee.

With the sun out, the day had a much more enjoyable feel to it than the gloomy past few days. I could see for miles, and it was easy to navigate with glistening snow drifts a kilometre ahead or a single distant cloud on the horizon. It was also easy to navigate with the spindrift. It flowed across the surface of the snow like a fast motion dry ice smoke as it cascaded towards me. It was difficult to comprehend how many billions of tonnes of spindrift were on the move, not just here but all over Antarctica. It was quite mesmerising looking at it and I had to pick a path through the large skarve and occasional soft drift. When I looked up as the sky with a few clouds in it they seemed to be rushing towards me also for a while. Sometimes I was not sure if the surface of the snow could be described as Skarve Heavy or Sastrugi Lite as one merges into another.

After a hard 6 km I took a break. This would be no picnic of the first week. It was too cold and windy to stop for long. I drank a litre of hot chocolate and had a Cliff bar and was ready to move in wading upstream in a torrent of spindrift. I was well clad. I had the salopettes on as usual and they kept my legs very warm and on top I had the matching jacket and just two layers underneath. The jacket was very windproof and had a ruff round the hood to create a small microclimate around my face. It had some well thought out features like a placket pocket which allowed access to the salopette chest pockets without having to undo the whole zip. On my face now I wore the cold avenger mask which worked well and protected my lips from the bright sun, and it fitted under the goggles whose flap I sewed on was almost superfluous with the “cold avenger”. After another had 5 km I took another break – again a quick one.

I thought I would camp soon after as the snow was still sandy and heaving on the pulk was straining my knee more than I would like. However just then the snow surface became harder and the pulk glided more easily. The wind also dropped from the force 6 down to a 4 as the afternoon wore on and that made a big difference. So, I continued for another 5 km to complete my 16 for the day which is what I set out to do. Before me I could see a great wave in the ice sheet, almost like a mid ocean Tsunami. It rose some 30-50 metres and I would have to climb it next. It was just a gentle undulation in the whole ice sheet but most you could hardly see.

I stopped at 16 km on a nice solid surface so I could do my exercises. I put the tent up carefully in the wind with the vestibule facing south to capture the sun hoping and expecting the wind to die down. I could not dig my usually half metre pit for my legs as I hit ice after 20 cm, which was impenetrable. However, I could still come in and sort everything out in the warmth of the sun. I had the added chore tonight of filling up my 3-litre bottle of fuel. Each one takes 900ml, so I have used 2.7 litres in 14 days. Not long after the 6 litres were boiled, and I could retreat into the inner tent for supper and to write the blog. Tonight was also Medical Monday where we spoke to the doctor. It was Paddy on call tonight. He gave me some tips with taping my leg and also a few exercises. However, he also though it was an ailment with I would probably have to manage throughout the trip. All in all, it had been a good day. Skiing on my own miles from anybody at the bottom of the world in bright sunshine across a vast glacier with spindrift flowing towards me was an extraordinary experience.

Day 16. Dec 5. S 81º36.805 W 080º05.673 to 81º45.060 W 080º06.537. 18 km. 8 hrs. 2650 Cal.  I have stopped posting the altitude measurements as they are not accurate at all especially when windy. It was windy in the night again and it was dull in the tent. It did not entice me out but out I had to go. I got dressed in the tent and packed up before opened the flysheet and stepped oot. It was like walking into the stage set of Ice Station Zebra. It was a good force 5 and there was spindrift everywhere. I had to be really careful taking down the tent so as not to damage the poles. I was very slow at doing it, so I did not lose control of it, and did it all kneeling on the ground to keep the tent low. Meanwhile spindrift was lashing into me. A good half hour after from emerging from the tent I set off. It was cold, about minus 15, and add the wind onto that there was quite a chill.

I split the day into 3 six kilometre stretches to achieve my 18 km for the day. it would be far too cold for any hot food, so I aimed to have a Clif Bar and a litre of hot chocolate at each of the two breaks. On the first 6 km the wind was relentless, and I was completely battened down with goggles, mask, and the hood on my jacket done up and the ruff deployed. The wind was coming straight into me, as it virtually always did. I had to slowly climb the frozen Tsunami, which I saw yesterday, and the catabatic wind coming down the slope made it very rough ground as it accelerated down the shallow slope. It was not a long climb just about the whole 6 km. However, there was the odd patch of hazy blue in the overall dull greyness and occasionally I could see my shadow. On one occasion I glanced up and the sun was surrounded by a halo of rainbows. It was remarkable enough but what was really unusual is there was a ring right round the sky at the level of the sun and the sun seemed to be repeated about 8 times on the ring. Two of the repetition suns happened right on the halo of the rainbow. I am sure there is a name to this optical phenomenon much like a broken spectre is another optical phenomenon. My break was quick and perfunctory, and I did not take my harness off as I did not want to fiddle with my hand getting cold to put it back on again.

On the middle 6 kilometres the visibility disappeared all together. It was pretty much a white out. The spindrift was still flowing but I could not see it. The contrast of the snow completely vanished however I could feel it was much smoother that the earlier section even if I could not see it. The spindrift was like sand and my pulk was harder to drag across the snow. At one stage I felt I was dragging a millstone along the bottom of an Olympic sized swimming pool filled with milk – and I was going from the deep end up to the shallow. It was a slow relentless plod and I kept glancing at my watch to see if my 6 km was coming to a halt. Eventually it did and I had another Clif bar and litre of chocolate before starting the grind again.

On the third section in the mid-afternoon the visibility improved slightly. I had a few more mirages where I would see other skiers or tents. Then I saw a very pale blue line. It was directly in front of me, and I could not work out what it was. It got bigger and bigger and then I realised it was blue sky and it was coming straight for me. Hallelujah. It still took a good hour to get to me but then the whole horizon ahead was glorious and blue and there were contrast in the snow and my shadow too. The last 4 km were wonderful. The spindrift had stopped, and the snowpack had more of a glazed feel to it as the runner of the pulk went over it. it was much easier. As I neared 18 km, I realised my knee was holding up. I could feel it, but it was not painful. I did have a slight pain in the neck at the vertebrae, but I think this was caused by heaving the pulk through the sandy spindrift up the slope this morning. It is something I will have to pay attention to as last year an Expeditioner, Ben Weber, had issues with it and it caused him great grief, but he still finished despite this ailment.

When I found a place to camp, I put the small end up into the wind as it was due to increase to a force 6 or even 7 in the night. With the tent up, the pulk pegged into the ground to stop it blowing away and everything in the tent, I dug the hole for my feet, got in and closed the door. It was another world and as I started to take off the ice encrusted face shields. I could feel the sun warming my face. It was my favourite time of day especially if the sun was out and I knew the tent would be warm. I boiled the 7 litres and then closed up the inner door and retired to the warm sanctuary. Today it looked like a laundry with all the damp clothes hanging up. The chargers were working well inside the tent. I did not finish the blog until 2130 and then spent another half hour sending it. I had to be up at 0600 everyday now really so the blogs might get shorter. I had been a good day the only blight on it was I heard my bright, chirpy young mate Jacob, part of our herd, had flown back to Union Glacier today. His tour over but thankfully not due to injury or accident.

Day 17. Dec 6. S 81º45.060 W 080º06.537 to 81º55.626 W 080º07.595. 20 km. 8 hrs. 2480 Cal.  It was windy again outside and I thought it was overcast until I went outside and saw it was bright sunshine but that the tent was covered in a layer of spindrift. My day began as usual at 0600 when I had my cereal. Then I got dressed in the tent and packed everything into the containers they belonged in. Then I would stack it all in the vestibule and go out for the first time in the day. Then it was just to pack all the containers in the pulk leaving one side of the top half free. It was for the tent tube. I would then secure the tent to the harness line and take it down just removing half the pole from the sleeve. I would then fold the exposed half pole over the pole still in the sleeve. Once I had done this to all three poles, I would then roll the tent up and insert it into the 1.5-metre-long bag. I was all done by 0800.

Although it was windy, and this made it feel about minus 20-25 it was beautiful day. The ice sheet stretched away in every direction, and I felt I was in a small boat in the middle of a vast ocean. It might sound boring, but it had its charm of total isolation and other worldliness. And it was incomprehensibly huge. With the spindrift the going was slow as there was more friction. However, after I climbed a small, almost imperceptible, rise there was less spindrift on top of the snow and the surface was more glazed. The runners slid well on this latter surface. I think I saw a couple of skiers way to the east of the route and assumed this to be Alan and David, the characterful ex marines.

I stopped after 7 km, turning the pulk so I could sit on my clothes bags underneath with my back to the wind. It was far too much palaver in this cold wind to bother rehydrating some Macaroni Cheese with hot water from a thermos, so I just had a Clif Bar and hot chocolate. After this break I felt invigorated and the pulk slid easily across the ground. It was probably flat, but it felt like I was going up slightly. The pressure changes in the atmosphere would have been more significant than my small rise and fall in elevation that the barometer on my gadgets measured. After an easy 7 km I stopped again for the same short break which only lasted 15 minutes. The spindrift eased for the final 6 km across the endless icesheet, and it was a delightful ski until I reached the 20km mark for the day. It was my goal and limit.

I checked the forecast and the wind seemed to be increasing in the night so I pitched the lower end towards the south meaning the vestibule would not have direct sunlight all night. However, I could still arrange everything in the tent, so it dried in the warmth. It was not the best pitch and on a bit of a slope which I did not initially see with my goggles on. But worse than that was it was on 10 cm of hard snow and then ice underneath. I could get the tent pegs in but could not dig the hole. Instead of sitting comfortably undressing and boiling my water I had to scrabble about on the floor of the tent on my elbow and in a very clumsy fashion. Having said that, when I started, I was as elegant as a walrus manoeuvring in the tent, and now I am getting much more agile as I lose weight.

There was not much banter on the bush telegraph this evening. There was a group with Pierre the young Frenchman, Poppis and the other 2 Finns and the Fire Angels who were at the back of the herd but catching up slowly but surely. There was also Sam, but he was on a different and much much more ambitious route. He was doing well, and it looks like he has the potential to achieve something special. Missing from the banter was Jacob. His tour had not gone as he would have liked, and he bailed out yesterday. It was a great shame for him and also a loss for me as I considered him my mate on this section as everyone else except the speedster Pierre were in teams.

At my regular 2100 check in called to give my daily position and have a small but perfunctory chat with the radio operator Coleen asked to speak to me. She had come over from the catering area to the comms container to do so. She and her partner, Lane, were working here and both keen hikers from the US. We had some common hiking friends, and none more so than Top’O my hiking buddy from the first half of the PCT 6 years ago. She had a message from Top’O and also told me that each morning at the ALE group meeting when the Expeditioners progress was announced that people were rooting for me and hoping I overcome my knee. It made an already good day into a memorable one.  There is an overlap between the close-knit US hiking fraternity and the family of ALE employers. I still seem to have 42 days’ worth of food left and the South Pole is 900 km away. Hopefully as my pulk gets lighter I will get faster. There is still 60 kg in it to get consumed and 50 which will not.

 

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