Monday, October 18, 2010

Half the fun.

The logistics of each climb often include some novel component. For Aconcagua it was the Muleteers we hired to pack our provisions the many miles up a dry valley to the point where we would begin the climb. On Kilimanjaro it was the army of Porters, 19, we were required to hire as terms of our permit. On Denali we used three small aircraft with skies to get on and off the Kahiltna Glacier.

The most logistically challenging aspect of this attempt on Vinson Massif is transporting our team and a considerable load of provisions from Punta Arenas, Chile some 2,174 miles to the interior of Antarctica. The distance is too great, the cargo too heavy, and the conditions too severe for most conventional aircraft. Fortunately, the Soviet Union had the same problem many years earlier as it struggled to move military equipment in and out remote locations where they officially had no military presence. They needed a medium range, heavy load cargo jet that could handle harsh conditions and rough landings. To this end they created the Ilyushin 76 (pictured above).

The Ilyushin 76 measures 152 feet long and has a wingspan of 165 feet. Powered by four turbojet engines, it can carry a maximum payload of 114,640 lbs. Fully laden, it has a range of about 2,700 miles. As the round trip is 4,348 miles we will need to carry many barrels of jet fuel as cargo. This will enable the Ilyushin 76 to return to Punta Arenas after depositing us on the ice.

Prior to 1985, there was no established means for flying into Anarctica's interior. In that year, Antarctic Network International (ANI) was formed.  Later purchased by Antarctic Logistics Expeditions (ALE), this company now provides transportation to Researchers, South Pole Trekkers, Penguin Observers,  Mountain Climbers, and the participants of an actual Marathon run on the open ice. By the way, it costs $16,000 to run in that Marathon and you don't even get a T-shirt.

We will be relying heavily on ALE in the course of this expedition. After the four and half hour flight from Punta Arenas our team will dig in and wait for a Twin Otter to arrive. This plane, also operated by ALE, will fly us another forty five minutes inland to the base of Vinson Massif.


Regardless of the outcome of our climb, there is one thing quite certain; we will be using some really cool equipment!

























Saturday, October 16, 2010

Training at a molecular level.


The downside of going to exotic places is the vast array of exotic diseases that typically come with them. Malaria was a serious concern when I went to Africa. The drug taken daily to guard against Malaria, Malarone, saps a person's strength, leaving him want of a nap. This is problematic for a Climber who is on the move. With some frequency it also produces psychotropic dreams at night. A Climber I know awoke from one such dream convinced he was lying in a pool of blood and clenching a knife. Did I mention we share tents?  In my own Malarone nightmare I dreamed I was kissing Madeleine Albright. Not just a peck either. It is a testament to just how disturbing this dream was that, even in the company of my Tentmate's homocidal dream-world confession,  I chose not to share it.

Some treatments come in the form of Vaccines,  like UP109AB for Yellow Fever. Yellow Fever is such a serious threat in some countries that one must carry a card certifying her vaccination before being allowed to enter. For anyone who has had Mono, a body feels pretty much the same for the ten days following vaccination. Others, like VIVOTIF BERNA  for Typhoid Fever, are living disabled virus in tiny capsules that are kept in the refrigerator while one takes doses every other day. Some of us are accustomed to living things in our refrigerators but this is especially creepy.  While there is a vaccine for Rabies, unless you will be working in direct contact with various mammals the CDC prescribes prevention as the primary approach. Do not feed the monkeys. Do not pet the dogs. Keep your fingers away from Glen Beck's  mouth.

Some Vaccines are so basic the CDC would suggest you have them before going to your mailbox. Vaccines like MMR (measles/mumps/rubella), DPT (diptheria/pertussis/tetanus), and Poliovirus fall into this category. The next line of defense would include Hepatitis A and B vaccines, which are strongly recommended for travel to Asia or anywhere south of the United States. But the most immediate biological threat to a high-altitude Climber are the organisms which bring on diarrhea. Hydration is all-important in the fight to ward off serious altitude conditions. It is also central to the prevention of frostbite and freezing. Thus a relatively harmless bout of diarrhea at sea level can be fatal at high altitude. With unsanitary conditions being the norm at high camps one must be diligent in the preparation of food and water. Compulsive hand washing is a Darwinian virtue. But for those times when a Climber finds herself afflicted just the same, there is no substitute for CIPRO.  I suffered a middle of the night episode while climbing on Kilimanjaro. Weak and shaky, I returned to my tent and began a  course of CIPRO. The next day I was able to continue up the mountain, summitting two days later.

The site for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is a saved web page on my browser. For someone outside the medical community this might be a cause for concern. But the far-flung places I find myself each have their own set of challenges, both topographic and biological. I checked the site recently for my upcoming trip. First I looked into Chile. The CDC  recommends, in addition to the routine vaccinations, travelers to Chile be vaccinated for Hep A & B, and Typhoid Fever. For the temperate regions of Chile they also caution against Dengue Fever, a disease contracted by mosquito bite. Fair enough. Then I checked for Antarctica. It would seem that anything a person is going to have in Antarctica he must bring with him. This much is true of disease as well. Aside from those afflictions passed from human to human, most other cases of sickness involve diseases contracted prior to arriving at Antarctica. The CDC recommends travelers to Antarctica have the routine vaccines of MMR, DPT, and poliovirus, plus Hep A and B.   ...and don't eat under-cooked penguin meat.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

It's not the end of the world, but ...oh, wait, it IS the end of the world!

The first step in my journey will involve a series of flights starting in Bellingham, Washington and concluding in Punta Arenas, Chile. All told, I will be living in airplanes and airports for two days. I do not look forward to this part.  It will be long, uncomfortable and boring. Though I am typically an upbeat guy, I spend a fair bit of energy coaching my expectations down before departing on such marathon flight  itineraries. By the time I actually get on the first jet I am easily delighted. "My seat is also a flotation device?!! THAT is amazing!" Once in a while I am genuinely taken by surprise with something wonderful. While flying from Seattle to Amtserdam, enroute to Africa, I woke at 3:00am and looked out the window. We were over the polar ice cap.  A full moon lay soft luminance upon the whitescape below. I felt a deep sense of peace looking down on it; the kind of peace that lives next door to loneliness, and the quiet reflective reverence that haunts the basements of both.


You may have never heard of Punta Arenas, Chile. Prior to the planning of this trip I had not. But at least 130,000 other people have. They are the residents of this remarkable place which has labeled itself "The city at the end of the world."  Indeed, Punta Arenas is the World's southern most city.

The name Punta Arenas is translated as "Sandy Point." Which is not the sort of branding any department of tourism will stand for. So, in 1927, the city was officially renamed Magallanes, for the Straits of Magellan it overlooks. Signs were changed, T-shirts were printed ("My Grandmother went to Magallanes and all I got was this lousy shirt"), and a three act promotional play was sent out on the road, never to return. The net result was a complete absence of incoming mail for the next eleven years. In 1938 the name was changed back to Punta Arenas.

The earliest version of Punta Arenas was established in 1584 by the Spanish with the intent to prevent high seas crimes by english pirates. Given the unpromising name of Puerto Hambre (Port Starvation), the settlement withered away in just three years, its sole surviving member being rescued in 1587, ironically, by the notorious english pirate Thomas Cavendish. 

In the mid-19th century, Chile used Punta Arenas as a penal colony and a disciplinary posting for military personnel with "problematic" behavior (Don't ask, don't tell). Various prisoner mutinys arose as demands for aid to the godless and the sick erupted into violence, most typically resulting in the destruction of  the church and hospital. Between 1890 and 1940 this area became one of the world's most important sheep-raising regions. Prosperity arrived with the California gold rush, as Punta Arenas became an important trade center for Clipper ships sailing to and from. Today this city is the location of Chile's principal oil reserves, and a  modern methanol plant. Though sheep and cattle remain an important part of the region's agricultural production, tourism, fisheries, and Magallanes University also contribute to this diverse and vibrant economy.

 Punta Arenas is located at Latitude 53 degrees South, making it the north American equivalent of Jasper National Park in Alberta, Canada (or Liverpool, UK for you Beatles fans). The seasonal temperature in Punta Arenas is greatly moderated by its proximity to the ocean, with average lows in July of 30 degrees F and highs in January of 57 F. Perhaps the most distinctive characteristic of the city's climate are it's powerful summer winds, strong enough that city officials put up ropes downtown to assist those on foot.

Punta Arenas, Chile (The City at the end of the world)  has two sister cities;
Split, Croatia (The City of division)
Bellingham, Washington (The City of subdued excitement)   ...my home town.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

The Shallot. A Haiku.

"You know how I feel
  
about Shallots," I told her.  
 
"I do not trust 'em."

The Name

Vinson Massif was named after Carl G. Vinson, a U.S. congressman from Georgia who persuaded the U.S. Government to pledge support for the exploration of Antarctica.  Explore it they did though, curiously, the United States never laid claim to any part of the continent.  Those who are quick to charge the U.S. with "Imperialism" should note that, in this instance at least, they were beaten out by the countries of Russia, Chile, New Zealand, Britain, and France. Some parts of Antarctica are claimed presently by as many as three different countries. While there is evidence to suggest this causes some tension among them, the region's monopoly-equivalent value of Baltic Avenue prevents the kind of escalation that might prompt one to take up arms and freeze to death holding them. 

In addition to the mountain, Carl Vinson is honored in namesake by the Institute of Government at the University of Georgia  as well as a nuclear power aircraft carrier.  In the course of a federal legislative career that spanned 50 years and one month, Carl Vinson was reelected to the U.S. House of Representatives for 26 consecutive terms. Along the way the United State evolved from the Springfield rifle being their principal weapon to Polaris-class submarines, owing in no small measure to the efforts of Carl Vinson.
 
 
Perhaps best known for his support of a strong national defense, Carl Vinson was variously called "Mr. Armed Services" , "Mr. Navy", and "Mr. American." (Reports that he was also "Mr. October" confuse this great American with a male stripper by the same name.) Early in his career, Vinson earned a seat on the House Naval Affairs Committee, then going on to become the committee chairman in 1931. He served in that capacity until 1947, when the Navel Affairs Committee and the Military Affairs Committee combined to become the House Armed Services Committee, over which he served as chairman the remainder of his career. (Correction: In fact there was a four year period of Republican control of Congress during which Carl Vinson was not chairman. Largely regarded as the nation's first experiment in "kinder, gentler" diplomacy, this approach was quickly abandoned the first time some upstart nation needed to be taken to the woodshed.) Carl Vinson set foot outside the United States only once in his entire lifetime, a fact which might invite speculation that he saw the rest of the word as either too dangerous ("somebody get me a frickin' laser beam") or just plain worthless. Whatever the case,his service made a tremendous contribution to America and, in 1964, he was honored with the highest award that a President can bestow upon a civilian, The Presidential Medal of Freedom with Special Designation.

Crazy, they call me.

My favorite cinematic monologue comes from the movie Repo Man.  In a seemingly random scene featuring two characters burning white clothing in a barrel, Miller (Tracy Walter) breaks a pulled-pork silence to elucidate on UFOs, time machines, missing persons in South America, and why "the less you drive, the more intelligent you are." Incredibly, it all comes together. But it would not have to, not right away, by the terms of Miller's philosophy of life  ...which he offers in the opening lines of this monologue;

 Miller: "A lot of people don't realize what's really going on here. They view life as a bunch of unconnected incidence and things. They don't realize that there's this like lattice of coincidence that lays on top everything. Give you an example,show you what I mean. Suppose you're thinkin' about a  ...plate of shrimp. Suddenly somebody'll say like "plate" or "shrimp" or "plate of shrimp", out of the blue. No explanation. No point in looking for one either. It's all poart of the cosmic unconsciousness."  

I was tempted to use this quote in response to a recent email I received from a reader in Japan. He wrote My Uncle spent like 10 years climbing all over the Antarctic as a Meteorologist for the USN. He's a totally hard core, decorated, retired, been there done that type. I asked him what he thought about climbing Vinson Massif for sport. He laughed and said "Your Buddy's nuts."            

Another reader wrote Dave, I read your blog last night and we wish you lots of luck and happy climbing, but I have to tell you I think you're a little crazy.    
  
I get this in person too. The guys helping me load a truck at Home Depot noticed my summit tattoos and asked what mountain is next. I told them, where upon they regarded me with a term that questioned both my sanity and the pedigree of my lineage. You yourself may have similar thoughts. While I welcome you to express them, it is unlikely you will better the colorful and often salty terms already offered. But to all I submit the following response, the response I replied to the reader in Japan with, a response doubtless shaped by the ranting of a strange man standing next to a burning barrel.
"Thanks for the concern. I really do appreciate it. Rest assured I take this thing very seriously and will exercise every caution. I'm kind of used to people telling me I'm "nuts." I spend a lot of word count trying to understand and explain what motivates High-altitude Climbers. I may have captured aspects of it, but sense it still eludes me. In the end, perhaps, I am the man who is looking for something he hopes to never find. Life should have unexplained forces, and our duty to them is an expression of faith in the greater energy that shapes our humanity." 

Sunday, September 12, 2010

The Mountain

Vinson Massif is located 746 miles from the South Pole. It was discovered in 1957 after being sighted by US Navy Aircraft  It is hard to imagine, given the size and scope of the mountain, that it existed and was not seen prior to this. Those who maintain the reality of Big Foot no doubt use this fact in support of their argument.                                                                                                                                        
Vinson Massif was first climbed by a U.S. expedition team sponsored by the American Alpine Club. They reached the summit at 11:30am on December 18th 1966. Since then approximately 1,000 climbers have followed. I have a poster of one of them hanging on the wall in my office. The heavily clothed climber has his back to the camera. The lifeline he has been belayed out to the summit on connects his waist harness to the foreground. Wind swept snow strafes the lesser and mostly unnamed peaks below him. Leaning on his ice axe, his posture conveys a sense of peace.  "I wanna be that Guy," I'll often comment to whichever Client has made the mistake of inquiring about the photo. I caught myself making this inherently sexist statement the other day and attempted to repair the moment. "Though I suppose that could be a woman," I added. "I mean, I've met many fine female climbers. In which case, I suppose, I want to be that woman." I cannot overstate the awkwardness of the moment that followed, but take refuge in the hope that it will be lost in the muddled recollection of the fumbling attempt I made, just prior, to explain my rationale for doing this climb.                                                                                                                                         It would seem most Climbers have a hard time assembling the rationale for going to Vinson. By contrast to the approximate 1,000 total summits of this little- known mountain, Everest has seen 2,050 people stand on its hat, and Kilimanjaro celebrates about 11,000 summits per year!   Vinson Massif, rising to 16,048 feet,  is not a high altitude "trophy." With many much taller mountains available under more accessible circumstances, those longing to tickle the ozone would not choose Vinson. This may be part of the reason for its low total summit count. As well, Vinson Massif is not a known name outside the climbing community. The Matterhorn would be a better choice for raising an eyebrow at some social gathering, though its 9,500ft summit is easily dwarfed by Vinson. Climate might be another explanation. The warmest month of the Antarctic summer, December, sees an average inland temperature of -20 F. This type of cold requires some pretty special equipment and thus the carrying of very heavy loads. Unlike Kilimanjaro and Everest, there are no Porters to carry gear in Antarctica so the level of fitness is particularly demanding. Climbers must also consider the time element of any expedition; time away from family, time away from work, time spent in difficult environments. This would be a strike against Vinson. Owing largely to the logistics of getting to and from the mountain, a Vinson Massif attempt takes about three weeks, door to door.  Of course risk is always a consideration. Though I cannot find a single reference to any climbing fatalities ever on Vinson Massif, it was, just the same, ranked 7th among the world's 11 most dangerous mountains in a recent article by Matador Trips (http://matadortrips.com/11-most-dangerous-mountains-in-the-world-for-climbers). Everest ranked 9th, and Denali 10th. The rational behind this placement was the extraordinary remoteness of Vinson, making anything outside self-rescue a non-option. But for all of this, the most compelling reason for a Climber to not attempt Vinson Massif is money. Second only to an Everest expedition, the price for attempting Vinson Massif is a remarkably high number (more on this later). 
                                                                                                                                      So there you have a long list of the reasons one would not climb Vinson, all the things it is not. Yet 1,000 people have climbed Vinson, and if you include those who tried but did not summit we are talking about perhaps 2,200 otherwise rational individuals who have found some reason which overwhelmed all of the above. I find that fascinating. As is my habit, I will be asking each Climber I come in contact with on this expedition "Why are you climbing this mountain?"  Until then I shall speculate, and here, dear Readers, is my speculation. I have written in the past about the two profiles into which all Mountain Climbers fall; The Mountain Lover and The Summiter.                                                                                                                                        The Mountain Lover is all about the experience of climbing, the beauty of the surroundings, the time spent away from things that remind him of modern society. Vinson would have much to offer such a person. Very few humans have been to this part of the world. Those who have were strictly regulated by a body of rules that take the notion of "Leave no Trace" to a level seen nowhere else on the planet. The Antarctic Treaty System established in 1959 by the consortium of nations who variously lay claim to parts of the continent prohibits mining and military activities, outlines the manner of research that may be conducted, and sets aside the whole of Antarctica as a scientific preserve replete with environmental protections. So strict are the standards that a Climber may not even urinate trail-side en route between camps. One must bottle such waste until reaching the next camp and dispose of it in a specific hole in the ice. It is therefore not surprising many Climbers returning from Antarctica describe it as the most pristine place on earth. In many respects Vinson Massif might qualify as the Mecca of Mountain Lovers. 
                                                                                                                                        The Summiter lives to stand on top. He freely admits to disliking the food, the cold, and the pain that is part and parcel of serious mountain climbing. Though the Summiter can and does appreciate the visual beauty around him, it is unlikely he would trouble himself to be there if not for the opportunity to experience the mountains peak.  To this person Vinson Massif is the high summit for one of the seven continents, one of The Seven Summits. It goes without saying that anyone who intends to stand at the apex of all seven must summit Vinson Massif. To date, 275 individuals have been able to "touch 'em all," standing atop each of the seven continents. That number grows by about 30 people each year. This makes Vinson Massif  nothing short of a compulsory for the serious Summiter.                                                                                                                                          It is likely no other mountain draws these two profiles into more polarized states. For whichever type a Climber is, on Vinson Massif you will only find him in that profiles purist form. There, on the ice, they will need to work together if either is to come away with what led them to Antarctica. Until then these Climbers will look much the same; distracted souls pawing through the junk drawer of their day to day, mumbling to themselves like that wild-haired man on the street, and thinking, always thinking, of the mountain.