Field team fun in the Miller Range circa 2009

Dear Jim, Morgan, John, Nina, Brian, Morgan, Ellen and Con,

I’m not going to lie to you-  it’s a little bit heartbreaking to see you all leave for Antarctica without me.  Staying home was my choice, of course, and after 30 years of involvement in ANSMET the breaks are healthy for both me and my family.   But this time of year things I miss about Antarctica and the ANSMET experience come unbidden to mind, things like……….

…..  Meeting up with individual field party members in airports in Dallas, Los Angeles, Sydney and others,  seeing some for the first time and seeing others after long separations. Usually we’re all half-asleep and half-way around the world from home,  and it’s like a friendly bolt of static electricity, anticipation turning into reality.

……. Those few days in Christchurch as the questions fly, the vets smile at their celebrity status, and we start to become a team.

…….The excitement shared by 20, 40, sometimes 100 of us as we board a giant military plane to fly 3000 miles across dangerous seas dotted with 60 ft waves and icebergs. Newbies hardly able to stay in their seats, crowding around the few windows and taking pictures of smears on the horizon,  while vets quietly smile, tell satirical stories of cannibalism and start withdrawal from the internet.

……  That first breath of Antarctic air as you step out of the plane onto the Ross Sea.  Jet fuel, exhaust, unwashed fellow passengers,  the air still tastes clear,  and the view of Erebus is magnificent.

…. McMurdo,  where everyone is helping someone,  the omelettes are the size of hubcabs,  the dorms are a repeat from 1981, the trucks have treads, mustaches are poor indicators of gender, the meetings have meetings,  and you’re torn between getting the hell out and signing up for life.

…. Trusting John’s knots,  and clamping that right thumb down on the throttle up the steep, icy hill to Castle Rock during survival school.

….. Those days after it’s all packed up and you’re ready to go, watching the transportation scroll waiting for your flight to be called,  and then PANIC AS HOLY CRAP I’M LEAVING IN 20 MINUTES I’M NOT READY AM I !?!

…..That LC-130 flight out into the field, so different than the flight from Christchurch, the flight crew so relaxed and yet the trip fraught with commitment.  Your first view of the Transantarctics from the inside,  the call to buckle up,  and 40 seconds of terror as you skid along the snow.

….That feeling as the LC-130 disappears over the horizon, heading back to McMurdo.  A moment ago you were cheering as the plane muscles its way into the sky, roaring and buzzing and turning toward home.  Now silence, and a “what next” feeling that’s both numbing and energizing.

……The arrival of the Twin Otters destined to ferry us up to the Miller Range;  So exciting to have visitors from the civilized world,  you feel proud to be a local and wishing they’d either go away or take you aboard.

…… Dropped onto a campsite in the middle of nowhere,  a satellite phone in your hand,  a pile of gear at your feet,  and the Twin Otter gone for good. That’s it;  you are on your own.  The best feeling in the world and the most daunting, survival is entirely up to you now.  And if you’re a vet,  knowing you’ll not only survive, you’ll have the abso-tootely most gobsmacking wonderful time in your life.

……. Getting to know your tentmate, your team-mates,  the fearless leaders John and Jim and Brian.  That first gut-busting, tear-streaming can’t-control-myself fit of laughter over a card game, or a meal, or just hanging out.  Not just new friends,  but friends forged in a cauldron of small tents and howling winds, people you trust with everything you are.

…… Finding that first meteorite.   Not gonna try and explain THAT feeling for you.  Even the long-term vets still get that feeling.  You’ll get it too.

……  The first big storm.  You’ll survive,  but there are surprisingly few athiests in Scott tents.

……  That first “clean hair” day once you decide to go for it.  You’ll feel very, very hollywood, definitely the most attractive person within 600 miles for sure.

……..  Recognizing your individual team-mates from a distance even though they all look like big red marshmallows with white feet.

…… The bittersweet realization that you’ll be going home in a week,  and the decision to absorb every detail of every day until then.

……. The flight back to McMurdo.   For some the quietest flight of the trip;  for others a rebirth.

…… The first puppy / flower / dress / night sky you see in Christchurch. Staring and smiling and realizing now everything will be different,  forever.  Trying to hold on to that feeling.

That’s enough for now.    I hope that gives you a little taste of what’s in store.  I am so, so jealous,  and so, so happy for you all!   Safe travels,  and remember to shower your fellow travellers with random acts of patience.

XOXOXOX,  from Ralph (in Novelty, OH)