Are We There Yet?

10-15-10

I dissembled the hotel pen for its precious parts, and with some tape I found, managed to repair my suitcase so the pull-handle works again.  It was a deserted island “I have made fire!” sense of accomplishment alone in my hotel room at 1am.  It is difficult enough to haul around three suitcases, but when the piggy-back strap goes missing and the handles break instantly, I became the Wally World circus somehow bustling my way through international customs, moving two and receiving help from strangers taking pity.

With now-working suitcases packed and ready to go, the alarm went off at 4:30am for a long, hot shower and the shuttle ride to the airport.  Double checking our given survival gear, our bags were checked without issue and we were released for the time being for a chance to eat breakfast and relax before our deliverance onto the ice. 

Breakfast was far too expensive, but I required some sort of pick-me-up.  Unlimited coffee was included.  Killing time before we boarded, I tried using the restroom several times trying to kill whatever fever/nausea I had, but to no avail.  It was then we were told to notify the flight nurse or department staff if we were ill, as this flight is not conducive to feeling better.  I opted not to mention it but to only my friends who provided Advil and encouragement. 

Had I alerted someone in charge, I would have been bumped to the next flight out of New Zealand.  While that sounds ideal, I would have experienced such extreme survivors’ guilt.  We were all hoping weather would delay us all, leaving a chance to go skiing during our furlough, but since we were all going, I made sure that I was included. 



Our team thatassembled in Denver, and our seen gear in back.

The flight’s Load Master (I enjoyed envisioning him as our camouflaged lead flight attendant) went through the seatbelt instructions while another soldier poorly and comically demonstrated the actions.  Those of us who were prone to airsickness raised their hands to be issued, as he candidly put it, a little gift.  Thinking this was some sort of remedy I raised my hand.  I’ve never endured any sort of motion sickness, but was willing to experiment due to how awful I really felt.  It was just a barf bag, revealing the source of the LM’s discreetness.  This won’t help me feel better at all.  The barf bags were given because there were no windows, hence no horizon with which to acquaint ourselves.  Sitting sideways in the jump-seat introduced a new sensation as well.


This photo can be viewed in 3D on a capable 3DTV



My friend, also a Justin

A nap and two extra strength pain relievers proved remedy enough.  I drifted off feeling like a dirty penny, awaking rejuvenated, ready to embrace the adventure at hand.  I was on one of the most sophisticated aircrafts the Air Force has, flying to Antarctica.  This is quite a list of “firsts” for me. 

I don’t even want to know how much that airplane weighed, knowing we were making a water landing.  Not as you might picture it, rather landing on nine feet of frozen saltwater in the bay, just off from where McMurdo is stationed on volcanic rock.



This is a later-taken sunset photo of the Ice Runway



With no widows, the artificial light was no match for stepping out of the plane into a perfectly clear day with bright sun and everything being white to reflect the sun seemingly only back into your eyes.  We looked like sheep piling out of the plane; following one another as to not be isolated in the foreign, scrambling for our sunglasses, trying to accept where we were.  Sheep are so dumb.  Now that my job consists of supporting this process, I look upon the newbies with a sense of compassion and understanding. 

They walk in a straight line from the aircraft door to a bus door for a ride into town.  From what I remember, my first march across the ice was about the same.

I stumbled into my room with all my gear to find I am luck with only one roommate (as opposed to 4 or 5).  However, he is away at a field camp, leaving me my own living quarters for several weeks.  I’ve got a nice living situation.  I will not complain. 

Our flight came in on a Friday, for us to be at work on Saturday and have Sunday off.  This was an easy transition into not wasting time and having a chance to settle in.

McMurdo is like a mining town, college campus and summer (or winter, I guess) camp. The work life is like a small blue collar town, your off time and dorm life feels like college and the logistics of everything seems like camp.  It’s an alright mix.  Now that I’ve got everything figured out, I have one last direction to follow.  This is home now.  It’s time to make some new friends.