Beat the Crowds. Antarctica Now. (Cont'd.)

You Are Here:

Home >> Beat the Crowds. Antarctica Now. (Cont'd.)

Today's Question
How do you make primitive snowshoes? answer

What should you do if you get lost driving in a snow storm? answer

Today's Question
What is the greenest ski and snowboard on the market? answer

Can I really damage a coral reef with sunscreen while snorkeling? answer

What kind of dog will make me look manlier? answer
Is there a sport that safely combines my twin passions for guns and kayaks? answer
How come most of the world's cultures enjoy eating goat, but Americans don't? answer

Online Favorites

Special Issues

Photo Galleries

Outside Magazine November 2001

Beat the Crowds. Antarctica Now. (Cont'd.)

OVER THE NEXT FEW days, the dining tent at Patriot Hills fills up as the Otters fly to and from the pole, reeling in the troops. The mealtime din is impressive.

Tom and Tina Sjogren, the Robo-Cops, return, having fallen short of their goal by a hefty 156 miles. They're emaciated and dejected, but they vow to try again next summer. Two Danes, Gregers Gjersoe and Kristian Joos, are emaciated too, but they make it. Meanwhile the two "stealthy" Norwegians, Sønneland and Bae, reach the pole only to continue on toward McMurdo—with no boat and no backup plan. Everyone but Damien Gildea is shocked. "Wouldn't you poach a complete crossing if you could?" he says. In the end, after some tense exchanges with the NSF, the two men will secure passage on a tourist vessel that calls at McMurdo, and get a hero's reception back home.

The last of the haulers, Bancroft and Arnesen, reach the South Pole on January 16. With less than a month before their pickup boat, the Sir Hubert Wilkins , sails from McMurdo for Tasmania, they have 900 miles to go. Still, they push on. On February 16, an ANI Twin Otter will pick them up on the Ross Ice Shelf, 482 miles short of McMurdo, and fly them on to a rendezvous with the Wilkins . The retrieval will set their expedition back $250,000, but it will get them back to New York for an appearance on David Letterman .

On January 18, in Patriot Hills, Jamie Main calls in the Herc, and six hours later, with the crosswinds gusting a little beyond the 15-knot comfort level, the pilot sets the beast down. After the nights in the dining tent everyone's pretty well bonded, and we all join together in that final Antarctic ritual, the rolling of the pee drums. An hour later, 35 of us wing north toward the trees and flowers of Punta Arenas.

That it feels good to get off the ice, I can't deny. But more than that—much more—I'm grateful to have gotten there in the first place. Everyone should be so lucky.