The left-most skidoo in the search line (James) captured in front of the mountain range that walls one side of the blue ice searched today.

Day 1 of searching at Amundsen is in the books. We started at 09:00 JSST (John Schutt Standard Time = Kiwi Local + 0:15) and returned to camp 6 hours later. We covered some of the most scenic 23 mi I could imagine. There were no upper-body-only jumping jacks today however. At the end of the ice field we found ourselves a shallow bowl out of the wind for lunch. The mountains on one side, blue ice as far as the eye could see on another, and a giant snow cliff along the other. The ice we were on was incredibly smooth and instantly made me regret having left my skates at camp. The winds picked up after lunch but were at our backs for much of the search back in the direction of camp. At one point there was an incredible scene as the wind was coming from overtop the mountains to our right; you could see a white haze flowing over the crest of the mountains and racing by you along the ice. The run home was in the path of many centimeter to decimeter scale snow-bridged crevasses – not a danger if you cross perpendicular on your skidoo and avoid the odd meter-scale parts. At one point we were crossing them with such regularity it felt as if we driving over inverted speed bumps and Antarctica was reminding us to slow down and take in the humbling view (we only do a few mph as it is). Now, nestled in our tents again, we have completed some bargaining and trading with John and Ioannis in terms of food. James was legendary in his ability to trade our (cardboard-like) pre-cooked burgers for a couple salmon steaks, and bacon. I know, right? Ioannis apparently loves the burgers so there were wins all around. The winds have continued to increase, with the helicopter-like battering of the tent walls not seen since early at Nødtvedt. We’re warm, have plenty of food left to see us through the season, and are enjoying ourselves.

Posted by Scott from Amundsen Glacier on 2018-01-05 at 19:30 JSST.

Editor’s comment:  Forgive me for a longish note, I’m going to share a parable that helps explain “John Schutt Standard Time”.  

   When I was a grad student at Pitt I had the amazing good fortune to stumble upon some dream lodging-  in exchange for some yard and house work (mowing, raking, watering plants,  snow-shovelling, carrying large objects, etc) I was given a large three-room carriage house to live in, just one block from my building  on campus.  As a former farm-boy this kind of work was just background noise to me,  almost comforting in a way.  The owner of the house (and my boss) was Dr. E. B,  the head of Pitt’s Child Psychology department.

    Dr. B warned me early on that she was an early riser,  and expected the driveway free of snow by the time she was ready to drive to work (about 8:45 am for her 3-block drive).  No problem for me- I was usually up hours before that (see farm boy above) so the very first snowfall found her pulling out of the garage 5 minutes earlier than usual!   Both sides were pleased;  but I didn’t realize a war of competence had begun.  The next time it snowed I shoveled the driveway at exactly the same time only to find her waiting impatiently (Child Psychologists have an astounding ability to look displeased)…..  So the next time I shoveled 10 minutes earlier, and the cycle repeated.  By the time I left that carriage house situation (about 2 years later)  her departure time had evolved from 8:45 am to 6:00 am.

   So I know what drives John.  He takes his job as team leader very seriously and is committted to never being the last one ready. He wants to set an example and demonstrate his competence by being the one standing there, ready to go,  that you see when you come out of the tent 10 minutes earlier than agreed-to.  And yes, I have gone through the same evolution with John that I did with Dr. B on many occasions,  with dueling “out of the tent” times progressing until one could find John and I puttering around outside for an hour before our nominal 9 am start time. Usually about then our tentmates would revolt, tell us to quit costing them sleep and to grow the heck up,  and the clock would reset.