Camping tests mettle, skills in Antarctica

Last weekend I went camping. Outside, in Antarctica. It was minus 25 degrees Fahrenheit, with a minus-50 wind chill index.

Yes, this was voluntary. Why not? I learned a lot about how to survive outside in the cold – and I got to experience Antarctica the way the first explorers did.

Our party consisted of 11 people, ranging from two siding carpenters who always work outside to dishwashers and tech support workers who work indoors; we even had two Swedes from the Ice Cube Neutrino project with us. We packed up survival bags, and the two mechanics I work for drove us several miles off-station in LMC track vehicles.

The mechanics high-fived me and shook my hand. “It’s been nice knowing you, Meg,” Tom joked. “You were a good GA.” Greg took my “last photograph.” Then they hooted and hollered their way back to the station, leaving a wake of tossed snow, followed by silence. The station looked small in the distance.

The first thing to do was to stay warm, and the best way to do that was to get to work building our shelter. Our group set up the few tents we brought: mountain tents like the ones I’ve used in Maine, and two Scott tents – large, unwieldy tents used only in Antarctica. We secured them with lines, burying stakes a few feet into the ground.

Next we outlined a “snow quarry,” cutting out blocks of packed snow. These we used to build wind-blocking walls. The snow in Antarctica doesn’t pack well – it’s too dry. We used saws to cut each block to fit with its neighbor.

By the time we had finished with the tents and the snow-masonry, it was high time to stop for a snack. Eat, hydrate and exercise – these are the three things that are “musts” for preventing cold weather injuries. We monitored one another for symptoms, looking for mood changes and listlessness (hypothermia), or white patches on skin (frostbite).

After eating peanut butter and chocolate bars, the more ambitious decided to go beyond the tents and construct their own snow shelters. A Quincy hut is made by first creating a large, igloo-shaped pile of snow, then digging a hole in the ground under it, hollowing it out from the inside. This process took several hours but was worth it. Two snow huts were built, and one person built himself a snow-trench to shelter in. While I myself opted to sleep in the Scott tent, more than half of our group slept in snow structures that we built ourselves.

Before going to bed, we put boiling water in hot-water bottles for extra warmth. Once in the tent, I stuffed myself – wearing four layers of fleece – into one fat sleeping bag, then wiggled my layered and sleeping-bagged self into a second sleeping bag. The effort wore me out and warmed me up so much that I was nearly asleep by the time my two tent mates were done crawling into their own bags. The water bottle at my feet and the four hats on my head must have done the trick, because the next thing I knew, it was morning.

The LMCs came back to pick us up, bringing cocoa and coffee. But even then, with the track vehicles alongside us and our sleeping bags stowed away, we could not relax our efforts to stay safe and warm. Nearly unnoticed in the bustle of breaking camp was one woman I saw sitting down, alone on the snow, slumped forward, her eyes downcast. I went over and shook her shoulder, asking, “Are you OK?”

She responded sluggishly, and I saw at once that the end of her nose was half-white. I pulled her gaiter over her face and put my hand on her nose to warm it. She was just starting to be mildly hypothermic and was definitely dehydrated, dizzy, nauseated and seeing spots. Seeing us, another group member came over. Together we got her to her feet, helped her into the LMC, and made her eat some hot chocolate and crackers.

By the time we had broken everything down and piled the rest of us in, she had perked up and was coherent, making sense and feeling better. It was a close call.

The warmth inside the LMCs and the rumble of the tracks on the snow as we approached the station made me drowsy, as did the hot chocolate. I’m not sure how the early explorers camped every night, for months. My one night was enough of an adventure for me.

Meg Adams, who grew up in Holden and graduated from John Bapst Memorial High School in Bangor, shares her Antarctic experiences with readers each Friday. For more about her adventure, information about Antarctica and to e-mail question to her, go to bangordailynews.com