Today is the summer solstice, the longest day
of the year. Out here at 66 degrees latitude, the sun will not set. For
Scandinavians, this is nothing new. This is the first time for me, however, and
I’m excited.
Niko, our Chilean trek leader, approached
our breakfast table and told us we’d have two hikes today, both ascents. They
would be longer and higher than the ones we did in the past two days. The first
would be steep; the other not as much, but aslo steep. Both, he said, are
“doable.” It was a warning, served with a smile, and he’s checking if we’re
game. Of course, we were!
We were ready by 845AM. The snowshoers and
kayakers were first priority for the Zodiacs. Because we needed to prepare, we
were the first to land wherever the destination was. And this morning’s
adventure was taking place at Cuverville, a small, rocky island with vertical
cliffs that rose up to 650 feet. It is home to the largest Gentoo penguin
colony (rough estimate: 4,800 breeding pairs) along with sea birds like kelp
gulls, petrels, terns and the South Polar skuas.
By this time, setting up wasn’t a problem anymore.
As Niko put it, however, the cliffs were steep, and the snow was soft in some
parts. It was also warm today, 4 degrees C, and after around 15 minutes of
walking, sweat was pouring out of our pores. Niko gave us a brief stop, during
which we hurriedly removed our gloves, polar caps and parkas. Rhodora took off
even her fleece jacket; she was determined to go up with only her dry fit
T-shirt.
Up we continued. Jamie, our British
naturalist and Zodiac driver, was the trailer this time. He went up and down
the line, adjusting the length of our ski poles. The adjustment was effective
when you walked sideways on really steep sections – the shorter pole for the
higher side, the longer one supporting you on the lower side. We zigzagged our
way through the steep parts. The poles we used, however, were old ones; the
tread on some were worn out and, pressed hard enough, they slid all the way
through, leaving you with a very short stump. Now, you were hobbling. It wasn’t
easy adjusting the poles back. Thus, the struggle continued.
Jesse brought a backpack to carry her
camera and lenses, but it got heavier with every step. Jason carried it for
while, but passed it on to me after a while. I also ended up carrying Rhodora’s
fleece jacket and scarf; I tied them on my waste. (Checking the pictures later
on, I realized I looked like a walking hamper. And Jesse was right: the
backpack did get heavier.)
BUT, we reached the top. Woohoo!!! And what
a great “viewdeck!” We saw mountain ranges that didn’t seem to have an end. The
sheer immensity of the ice was overwhelming. The sea was calm; the icebergs
stood still. Our ship anchored amidst them. The kayakers were out again,
unfazed by their experience of two days ago. Our snowshoeing group was in good
spirit. We jokingly complained that we went all the way up and there wasn’t a
Starbucks anywhere near. Seeing how challenging our descent would be, we vowed
to tell our tour group they should build a ski lift next time around. City
slickers!
Our kids lied on the snow for the fun of
it. Jason ran around in his snowshoes. (Not an easy thing to do; then again, he
once ran around in his flippers when we were at a beach.) From the mountain on
our right side, we heard what sounded like thunder. Next thing we knew snow was
cascading. Avalanche! “So that’s how it happens,” I thought. The avalanche
wasn’t probably the reason, but Niko lined us up to start going down soon
thereafter. We saw another avalanche, this time on the mountain to our left.
The same pattern held: first an explosive, cracking- sound, quickly followed by
a cascade of powder.
Geez, going down was so much harder! Tough on the toes and the knees. Niko said if we were to fall down, better to fall down on our butts, than fall on our faces. We agreed completely. So ass-first Jason fell, as did Juliene, Rhodora and I – in that order. Each crash occasioned a burst of laughter! Over time, Rhodora and I fell more frequently. The kids adjusted; none of the other snowshoers fell. Damn, what did they have for breakfast?! The stumbling and getting up was eventually energy-sapping. I knew we had to gut this one out. Halfway down, Niko advised us to remove our snowshoes. It helped. Except, quite often, we sank on soft snow all the way to our knees. Haaayyyy! I had to use both arms to dig up my legs. At times, I had to go to Rhodora to help dig her legs.
I saw our kids 300 feet away from us. With
Jamie’s help, they picked a spot to safely slide from. And slide they did.
That’s the way to go!!! Had we the strength to cross over to where they were,
we would have slid our way down, too. We did it the hard way, wading in snow,
literally pulling ourselves by our bootstraps. It was our impromptu penguin
imitation. Having said that, I strongly suspect the penguins would have nothing
to do with us. But, made it we did. To everyone’s relief. EspecialIy ours. I
dropped Rhodora’s white fleece jacket somewhere; I didn’t even notice that I
did. Jamie, ever the gentleman, went back for it. It would have taken me an
hour … I guess, there goes our snowshoeing career. It was really FUN, though.
Read about our experience with the gentoo penguins at the Neko Harbour in my Antarctica Journal 5 (Part 2).
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