The Last Degree

MAJOR MEGAN MCGRATH, an Aerospace Engineer with the Canadian Armed Forces and an adventurer (sponsored by EMS Global Tracking), shows us what it takes to successfully trek to the North Pole.

The idea for my biggest adventure to date was planted while I was reading a book in a hot, yellow tent at the foot of the Khumbu Glacier in Nepal. Mid-way through a book about a modern-day polar adventurer, I thought “I can do that!” and I began to develop the idea. I had yet to survive the task at hand, attempting to climb Mount Everest, but the idea was born and it was definitely worth investigating.

Following my successful expedition to Mount Everest in 2007, I began to research, analyze and take stock of what would be required to mount a successful solo trek in Antarctica. I was particularly critical of myself – did I really have what it would take? After an inventory of my abilities, and my cash flow, I committed to the idea and secured the time away from work. Realizing I needed to “shakedown” my polar travel skills, I signed up with an American company to participate in the “Last Degree Expedition”, an opportunity to ski 60 nautical miles (111km) to the North Pole - this was an opportunity to see if I was made of the right stuff!

The members of the expedition met up in the luggage bay at the Longyearbyen airport, all in good humour and looking forward to the experience of skiing to the North Pole. Upon our arrival at the hotel, we got our room assignments. I was bunking with Nancy, the female guide on the trip. She is a very experienced dog-sledder for the U.S. Ranger Service, and her job requires her to spend much of her time in the Minnesota backcountry. Our other guide, Ryan, spends much of his time guiding for the expedition company.

Hungry from travel, we headed into town for our first team meal and quickly stumbled upon a fact of life in Longyearbyen – supply shortages. The supply ship hadn’t been able to make port due to the ice in the fjord – so all places: shops, restaurants and so on, were starting to run out of supplies. Everyone understood that there was no one to blame, if an item on the menu was not available, well, that’s just the way it was. In fact, I found that this mellow attitude ran throughout the town of Longyearbyen. The townsfolk were really pleasant and very accommodating. I had discovered that although our hotel didn’t have a sauna, a couple of the hotels in town did have saunas. On a whim, I asked one of the hotel clerks if I could use the sauna (I even admitted I was staying at another hotel) – he said absolutely, just come back at 1600hrs when it opens! Sure enough, when I arrived, a different clerk was working, but she happily handed me the key. It’s this trusting, mellow, and kind atmosphere that really made our stay in Longyearbyen super enjoyable. They do take Easter very seriously, and virtually everything is shut down during these few days, but this was the only (and very minor) inconvenience we experienced. We worked around it, and frankly, we kept ourselves so busy, that the closure of the shops and many restaurants didn’t affect us too much.

The first portion of this “Last Degree” expedition was a three-day training expedition. The goal was to ensure that everyone would be familiar with their skis, boots, and sled-hauling abilities before setting out for the pole. One afternoon, we drove down the road about 2.5km, got out of the van, and our practice winter expedition was underway! We could hear the zip of snowmachines nearby, and we saw dog-sledders pass by with great frequency. There were many people enjoying the cold fresh air! As we skied out, I noticed roundish animals in the distance. I was told these were reindeer, but to me, they looked more like fat-furry pigs. They just didn’t look like the Rudolph I remembered from books! We skied out some distance, and then skied back to where we jumped out of the van. We skied past this spot, up a slight incline, and made our way to a location behind a dogsled compound where we made camp and ate dinner. For me, this was all very routine, but for some it was quite an experience. One gentleman on the team had never even camped before, let alone winter camped in the Arctic Circle! Granted he was only participating on this three-day trip for winter camping training and was not going to be on the expedition toward the pole, but wow (!) talk about go-big-or-go-home!

The next day, we tried to make our way to an ice cave that was some 10km away. Considering it had taken our group four hours to ski 4kms, even my rudimentary math skills told me that our sights were set a tad high. We started off under sunny skies, but the clouds quickly rolled in, the winds grew fierce, and it eventually dawned on the guides that it would be best to turn around and head back to camp. On the final day of our practice expedition, we broke camp and skied towards Longyearbyen. Now, hardened arctic sled-haulers, we were well prepared to take on the challenges of a North Pole expedition.

Well, not really, but at least everyone had a vague idea of what lay ahead.

We returned to Longyearbyen, had hot showers, ate good food and spent the next couple of days (over the Easter holiday) preparing for the expedition. Nancy and Ryan were ultra mellow so the preparations were done with reasonable timings and tempo. Everything was accomplished, problems were solved, and everything was cool.

Soon, the day arrived that we were to fly to Barneo, a Russian ice camp 87km from the North Pole. Getting there was a short haul flight on an Antynov helicopter, and as it turned out, our stop in Barneo would be brief. I made my way to the mess tent where I consumed copious amounts of sugared tea, while waiting for a briefing by the ever-so-handsome camp manager, Viktor. It was at this time that we learned that the skiers would be heading out in a couple of hours.

We ate our last civilized meal and soon headed out the door, sleds in tow, towards the waiting helicopter. Our group was sharing the aircraft cabin with a group of Russian school kids, and though we were crammed in like sardines, we all secretly reveled in the knowledge that this would be the last warm, solid enclosed space we would occupy for many days. Arrival at 89 degrees north – the “Last Degree” - came quickly. Viktor was kind enough to drop us off on an ice floe that was experiencing positive drift, which is to say that we would be flowing towards the North Pole rather than away from it. Upon exiting the helicopter, two things struck me immediately: first, my body was shocked by the biting cold, and second, I noticed that even at this slightly higher latitude, the sun was lower in the sky than I had expected. At this time of year, we were well ahead of the summer solstice so it only made sense, but it meant that my ability to use my solar charger with any degree of confidence would be impacted, and it became my mission to fiercely conserve my battery power throughout the entire expedition.

The two groups, the Russians and our group were near each other at the start of the expedition, but as with most journeys of this nature (i.e. heading toward the same destination over a vast distance) we ended up losing site of each other very quickly.

We traveled just a short distance, perhaps about two hours on that first day, as we wanted to get a feel for this foreign environment. In general, the terrain was flat. Oddly, however, I kept seeing a mountain range in the distance. It was just a mirage of course, a trick played on me by my mountaineering psyche. My rational mind told me that I was travelling on the surface of a frozen ocean that extended for thousands of miles in every direction, and after a time, I no longer saw the mirage. Although, the terrain was generally flat, that wasn’t the case of snow underneath our skis. “Pressure ridges” over which we had to haul our sleds ranged in height from one to eight feet and consisted of rubbly snow and ice. They presented obstacles that required aggressiveness and tenacity to overcome without breaking a binding or a ski. These ridges of ice weren’t our only terrain-related challenge, we also had to cross “leads”, cracks in the ice, that ranged from a less than one foot wide to several meters across.

Sled hauling was fairly easy going, and later on in the expedition I decided to add some heavy slabs of ice to my sled to try and match the weight that I would be hauling to the South Pole. I noticed a distinct difference in the level of difficulty, and I’ll have to work hard developing my core, leg and back strength to be successful hauling a heavy sled over 1,100kms in Antarctica.

Over the next few days, we followed the same morning routine. Nancy and I would get the stove going immediately upon waking up, as this had the dual purpose of heating some water and warming the tent. Prior to leaving Longyearbyen, we planned the meals we would eat during the expedition. There wasn’t a whole lot of flexibility in the menu, but there was enough that I was able to avoid eating oatmeal for the whole expedition. My breakfast consisted of tortillas or bagels with half warmed, half frozen cheese. We drank hot drinks, switching between cappuccino, hot chocolate, chai and tea. I would also get lunch ready during this time, a process that required me to mix into a plastic bag: salted pretzels, chocolate pretzels, peanuts, M&Ms, raisins, Wheat Thins, some dried fruit, and cashews. I would make some tea sweetened with brown sugar, and keep this in a thermos—a welcome refreshment that stayed warm throughout the day. One particular treat I had brought along with me were chocolate truffles from the renowned Ottawa chocolatier, “Truffle Treasures”. The truffles from this master of chocolate were smooth and silky, and above all, exquisitely scrumptious—a sharp contrast to the cold, brutal environment in which I was eating them. I was testing the chocolate flavours, the behaviour of the chocolate in the cold (ie did they retain their creaminess in the cold – and they did!), and even the size of the truffles, as Truffle Treasures will also be supplying me with chocolate during my Antarctic adventure.

When Nancy did sleep in the tent, she would toss her stuff out first. On occasion she slept outside in a bivy bag, and since it looked liked fun, I soon followed suit. This continued until our bags became too damp from our breath. Even though we ventilated the bivy sacs, the moisture build-up over several days made for a chilly sleeping environment and we reverted to the warmth and comfort of the tent. The last thing we did each morning to break camp was take down the tent, and I was able to test out a method that I’m planning on using while in Antarctica. I collapsed the tent, but did not remove the poles. I then rolled the tent material around the poles and loaded it on top of the sled. After some practice, this method proved fast and efficient for set-up and take-down, a method that I will employ when on my own down South. Each morning, everyone was ready at about the same time, and after minor adjustments to our kit, we would be off. At this point I would also turn on my locator beacon, a device provided to me by EMS SATCOM. Working with Giles Peeters, of the Ottawa EMS SATCOM office, I learned how easy it is to use the device. The beacon is small and lightweight, so I put it in the small pack I carried on my back – since it also has an emergency mode, if something were to happen where I would require emergency assistance, I would simply have to reach into my pack, rather than make my way to the sled I’m hauling some distance behind me.

We would ski for about an hour and a half and then take a 20 minute break. The breaks were tricky. Often the wind would be blowing, so I would stand with my back against the wind. I would take my mitts off, and although I was wearing liner gloves, my fingers still became unbelievably cold. With a thought to the preservation of my fingers, I only did short, single tasks at a time before sticking my covered hands into my larger mitts. I would pour a cup of tea and gulp it down – then warm up my hands. Grab a handful of snacks - then warm up my hands. Eat a chocolate truffle – then warm up my hands. I don’t remember having this problem in Antarctica, when I was there in 2004/05 climbing Mount Vinson. The Arctic is far more humid than Antarctica, and all that dampness really penetrates the body. All the same, I will be sure to remember my “Arctic” technique during my Antarctic expedition in case things have changed down there! You don’t want to take too long doing anything, body parts freeze very quickly in the Arctic!

The day would carry on like this, an hour and a half of work, 20-minute break, cycling continuously. We were very fortunate for the first five days of the expedition, as we were drifting toward the Pole, and this provided the luxury of having short, six-hour days. After a long day of skiing and settling into camp, I would also call Science North, my primary sponsor for the expedition, and make a dispatch with an Iridium satellite phone. The phone never failed, even in the extreme arctic cold. Near the end of the expedition, I was especially grateful to Iridium for their support. As it happened, the guides had a satellite phone, but somehow something became loose inside the phone and it no longer functioned. Without a phone, we would have been drifting across the top of the world with no way to communicate to the outside world. Fortunately, I had the phone that Iridium provided to me, and we were able to relay our coordinates for pick-up. The Iridium satellite phone worked without fail, and as I’ll be bringing this phone with me to the Antarctic, I was extremely pleased with the reliability and durability of this device, even in a location as remote as the North Pole!

On Day six, things changed. We awoke to very poor weather conditions, and our guides Ryan and Nancy made the decision to spend the day waiting out the storm. Unfortunately, it was during this day that we drifted past the pole and thereafter experienced negative drift. Day seven dawned and although it was extremely cold, we decided to move. At some point in the coming days, we simply would not have enough time to ski to the pole and make the last flight out of Barneo, which, if missed, would make us permanent summertime residents somewhere near the North Pole!

It was going to be a tough day, and one of the most difficult aspects of travelling with a group of relative strangers is gauging everyone’s willingness to achieve a goal. Were they going to give up? Did they want to get to the Pole as much as I did? Fortunately, it turned out that everyone on our team was gung-ho to get to the North Pole. We skied for 13 hours in the bitter cold, crossed many leads, and at 2330hrs on April 22, 2009 we all arrived at the North Pole!

Now, the geographic pole is a stationary destination. The problem is that we skiers were standing on a floating hunk of ice that is always drifting. So, in order to stand at 90N, we had to chase it! I tell you, the North Pole is the most intangible, ethereal goal I have ever sought! If you are going there to stick your flag in the snow – good luck!! I ran around with my skies on for 20 minutes – GPS in one hand, camera in the other – trying to get a single photo of the GPS showing 90N and my head. Pictures of achievements are nice, but being a team member is way more important, and so I relinquished my quest for “the perfect shot” pitched in to help everyone else who had already started setting up camp. A couple hours later, it was 0300hrs, and we were finally going to bed. It was bright as day outside, but with our exhausted bodies and hearts warm with success, we easily fell asleep and continued drifting away from the North Pole.

The day after achieving the Pole, we spent relaxed in our modest floating accommodation and reflected on our journey. The next day we all pitched in to build an igloo, and the day after that we were lifted off the ice by helicopter and returned to the relative civilization of Barneo, which, at this time of year, didn’t really exist anymore, and was now 201km from the North Pole. The camp had been torn down and was in cargo boxes on the runway.

A couple of days later, we were flown off the thinning ice and returned to the comfortable hotel rooms of Longyearbyen. Our American expedition organizer had arranged a big group dinner with all of the members of the various expeditions who had just flown off the ice. We were able to see old friends and meet other adventurers who had travelled from Canada to the North Pole. It was all very exciting and since Longyearbyen was now experiencing 24hr daylight and we had to leave for the airport at 0300hrs, we stayed up all night.

This North Pole “Last Degree Expedition” was a great adventure! I learned that I absolutely have the skills necessary to undertake the solo-South Pole expedition I have planned. I’m looking forward to my Southern journey more than ever, and I can’t wait to share it with everyone through my blogs. There will be good days, there will be down days. There will be problems. There will be small successes. I hope to bring you along with me on this adventure and give you an opportunity to experience the harsh beauty of the Antarctic continent and the South Pole. It all begins this month!

For audio, video and more on Major McGrath’s adventures visit Science North’s Website http://sciencenorth.ca/cool-science/meagan-polar/meagan-polar.html or her own http://www.meaganmcgrathadventurer.com/