The mad dash for the tent for lunch. Notice the Moon in the sky above the nunatak for scale.

Today’s weather dawned cool, clear, and windy (you know, for a change). Luckily the wind had dropped to a borderline value of ~12 mph, just enough to stream some snow across the surface and make us very uncomfortable. On a normal day, we might not have gone out (since it is always windier over on the other side of the ice field…and today was no exception), but after two consecutive tent days and on account of our Harcawesomeness (Hard Core Awesomeness…come on son, keep up) we went out anyway. The morning went well, and we collected 24 meteorites, but even Harcawesome folks like a hot lunch, so we skedaddled back to the tents for a leisurely 2 hour lunch (if there had been cocktails, the French would have been proud).

Johnny basically had to drag me out of my tent for the afternoon session. It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s just that I don’t like to work when I’m warm and comfortable and it’s cold outside (mmmmm…Macaroni and Cheese lunch). Still, I’m glad we went out, because we headed back over to the moraine and found another 28 meteorites in about 3 hours, bringing the grand total for the day to 52, and the season total to about 369. If the weather holds tomorrow, we’re going to be pushing north of 400 for the season. (Hmmm…I think there’s a saying about counting chickens before their eggs hatch that applies here…but I forget how it goes. And now I want eggs.)

Here’s a close-up on the Moon, cause it’s probably not visible in the other image. There was something both comforting and cool about having the sun and Moon in the sky at the same time for hours (and within 90 degrees of each other).

It has been brought to our attention that we haven’t really explained how (or why) we collect meteorites. Now, I would have thought it was obvious how to collect meteorites in Antarctica, but apparently not everyone has been down here to do this yet. Seriously people, you need to travel more!

Nevertheless, I’m happy to give you the 100% true, completely unvarnished version of what it is like to collect a meteorite in -20 F wind chill, though some of the language may have been changed to keep this to a PG-13 blog. Remember, everything that follows is 100% true, and nothing has been exaggerated, embellished, or just plain made up (just like all of my other blog posts).

If you’ll remember, we’re often sweeping these blue ice fields in a straight(ish) line, with 8 people abreast. The outside of the line (typically Johnny or I) are marking the edges of the searched area with double flags, so we know where to continue when we turn around. The person on the other side of the line (again, Johnny or I) is picking up his flags from the last sweep, and largely searching the same area he searched on the last sweep. Since we are both so good, we never ever ever ever (too many evers to be believable?) miss a meteorite the first time around, despite trying to keep a straight line and herd the cats (sorry, scientists) in between us in addition to searching for meteorites.

Here’s the beginning of the collection process, taking a photo of the sample with the counter hovering above it. Christine for scale.

Eventually someone stumbles upon a meteorite, either in their search lane, or if they’re lucky in someone else’s search lane which they have been brave/foolhardy enough to poach from their neighbor. Now, officially, poaching is discouraged, but practically speaking it’s pretty much the wild west meets the high seas out here, and the rules are more like guidelines. Also, that’s what our ice axes are for…to defend “our” turf and “our” meteorites. Nevertheless, once someone finds a meteorite, they stand there and do a little dance, not unlike the dance that Snoopy does in the Peanuts cartoons. This draws everyone else over to the person who found the meteorite, mostly to mock and ridicule them, but then we commence collection.

Now it’s important to approach the meteorites from downwind. Not for contamination reasons, but because they are easily spooked, and might scurry away or burrow back into the ice. If you’ve seen Apollo 18 (if so, shame on you) they’re something like that, only with slightly less blood. (Huh, so I’ve just been informed that the mobility of meteorites is not common knowledge, thus we’re going to pretend I didn’t say any of that.)

After someone finds a meteorite, the rest of us come over to help collect, especially Johnny who brings his ski-doo over and parks his back left corner about 12 inches from the meteorite. He rarely runs them over, and when that happens it’s on purpose to try to subdue a fleeing meteorite (sorry, right, we’re not talking about that). The purpose of parking near the meteorite is so that he can use the differential GPS system integrated into his ski-doo to determine the location of the meteorite down to a few cm accuracy.

Here’s the intermediate step, rolling up the sample in the bag. Notice Vinciane standing guard to ward off poachers…or skua.

Once the GPS is running, the rest of the team starts to collect the meteorite. First thing the meteorite gets is a unique sample number on an aluminum tag (we’re in the 23XXX range right now), which is also entered into a manual counter/image scale device (see image 1). Someone then holds the counter above the meteorite, and a field photo is taken, which shows the context in which the meteorite was found, and records its size, shape, color, etc. Now taking this picture is a pain, because it means our photographers (Christine and Devon), have to lie down on the -40 degree ice, and try to take a focused image without glare on the numbers or the meteorite. This year’s photographers are quite efficient, and one doesn’t have to have one’s bare hand out (known as “the Norman”) for a minute or two while getting detailed instructions about how to tilt the counter to the left, then up, then right, then more right, then back down, and then twist it around (known as “the Inge”).

Note: Jim wants me to say hi to you Inge; he hopes everything is going well in Sweden!

Once we have the picture, we give the approximate dimensions (in cm) to Johnny who records it in “the book”, along with an approximation of the percentage of the meteorite covered by fusion crust, as well as our best guess as to the type of meteorite (though officially we aren’t supposed to speculate on this).

Next the sample goes into the sterile Teflon bag sent down to us by JSC curation staff. This means getting a cold Teflon bag open with gloves on (or bare hands if you’re gloves aren’t up for it). Now cold Teflon is not completely frictionless, but it’s pretty darn close (hence them using it to coat your non-stick pans). Big fun! Once we have the bag open, we either (a) pick up the sample with the sterile tongs and place it in the bag (this is for newbies and amateurs), or (b) scoop the sample into the bag in one deft motion using only the bag (we call this the “Zeigler”…and yes, I can name anything I want after myself…it’s good to the author)!

Once the sample is in the bag, we role it up (this is easier for team members from Colorado or Washington), place the metal tag in the bag without putting our fingers (or any other body parts) in the bag, then tape the bag shut with special freezer tape that works at these cold temperatures.

Note: It is important to not drip snot on the meteorite. You wouldn’t think this would need to be explicitly stated (I mean, duh), but out in this cold your nose is pretty much always running, thus we are constantly on guard against this (we even got special training on how not to do it)! Other things you aren’t allowed to do with the meteorites: no juggling, no soccer, no softball (fast-pitch or slow-pitch), and no curling.

Here’s the final step, taping the Teflon bag closed with the meteorite inside (Shannon for scale). It’s important to not tape over the tag for inventory purposes…we call taping over the tag “a Vinny” (but not to her face).

The last step after collecting the meteorite is to write the sample number on a flag, and chip a hole in the ice, leaving the flag as a temporary record of where we found the sample. We do this in case the GPS doesn’t properly record the location, so we can go back the next day and redo it. Chipping 30 or 40 holes in a day can get a bit tedious, but it helps warm you up!

It’s sounds pretty complicated, but at this point we can collect a sample in about 2 minutes, though the GPS usually takes 4-5 minutes. This gives us plenty of time to snoop around whoever’s line it is to poach meteorites (accidentally of course).

All of my poor attempts at humor aside, we obviously treat the meteorites with the utmost respect, as we’ve come a long way at considerable expense and inconvenience to collect these meteorites. We want them to be in as pristine of a condition as possible (as pristine as something can be after 10’s to 100’s of thousands of years in a glacier), so that future researchers can use them for the widest range of studies as possible.

Here we head for home after a long but productive day. That’s a Mountain Wave Cloud (a type of lenticular cloud) that formed in the lee of Mt. Ward and hovered above us for a few hours. We made no end of jokes about the mother ship that was hiding inside it, and the swarm that might descend on us to wipe out any witnesses. After much discussion it was decided the 8 of us probably didn’t warrant a swarm. We also need more things to talk about.

Stay tuned “tomorrow” to learn more about why we collect meteorites!

– written by Ryan Zeigler, Davis-Ward, Jan 14, 2015

P.S. A special hello to my wife in Quang Ngai. I’ve been drinking the Vietnamese instant coffee you sent me almost every day (and sharing with Jim). It’s very good, but it doesn’t quite taste the same as when you make it at home. Miss you very much (and not just because my coffee tastes funny)!!