"It always rains on tents. Rainstorms will travel thousands of miles, against prevailing winds for the opportunity to rain on a tent." ~Dave Barry
Current Weather:
1°C|33.8°F Temperature
-1.1°C|30°F Wind Chill
Skies: Mostly Cloudy
-1.1°C|30°F Wind Chill
Skies: Mostly Cloudy
Visibility (miles): Unrestricted
Winds (knots): E @ 7
 |
| There's your Happy Camper :) |
Months ago when I was reading through some of the paperwork my supervisor sent to me in an attempt to prep myself for Antarctica, two words in particular jumped out at me. I latched onto those two words with all my might. I giggled like a little two year old that had just been given her favorite lollipop at the idea of these two words. All the other important information in that paperwork that I was supposed to retain, gone, but these two words stuck like noodles to a kitchen wall.
These two words were: Happy Camper.
Happy Camper School (Snow Survival Training 101), a dream come true for someone like me. Well, for just about any of us down here since the majority of us are lost adventurers. But here I was, a person with a Bachelor’s of Science in Adventure Recreation, ten years of servitude to the industry and I might get the opportunity to partake in Snow Survival training in Antarctica, the harshest of harshest climates. Rock on.
As reality will have it, not everyone is necessarily guaranteed an opportunity to go through Happy Camper School. It is primarily a training held for those going out to field camps located far away from the safety net of McMurdo. These people generally are grantees or field support contractors employed by Raytheon. Since I work in the Shuttle Department, we don’t necessarily ever leave McMurdo so I knew going in that I might not be guaranteed an opportunity to go to Happy Camper. We drive about an hour away from McMurdo when we head out to the Pegasus ice runway, but we were still around buildings that had phones and means of getting out of the elements should they take a turn for the worse. We were low on the priority list. For us in our department a trip out to Happy Camper School was considered a “boondoggle” or a moral trip. Something we earned for all the sweat, blood, and tears we shed throughout the season to support science. Either way, I would take it if the opportunity ever presented itself. It was hard enough being a driver for one of the Happy Camper take to’s or pick up’s that we were scheduled to do twice a week. I’d pull in with my delta and stare longingly at the lucky souls who had gotten to spend two nights out in the Antarctic elements.
Thursday afternoon I found myself sitting quietly at an empty table during lunch. It was my day off. I had spent the morning catching up on life and had just walked into the galley fully intent on eating a peaceful meal at one of the tables by myself. I was sitting there in my own little world when my supervisor Sharona loomed over me. “I have a question for you,” she said. “I was wondering if you were interested in going to Happy Camper School.”
I stared up at her. Was I interested in Happy Camper School?? By all means! “Uh, yeah,” I said hurriedly, afraid she would retract her offer. “Ok, good,” she said. “It’ll be tomorrow and you’ll have to be up at the FSTP building at 8:00am. I’ll email you all the information you need to know for it.”
With that she walked away and I found myself staring at my lunch tray. It’s early January. I have a little over a month left before I would be boarding that big C-17 and flying northbound. I had given up on the idea of getting to go to Happy Camper School since at this point we were well into the season and our schedules were pretty packed with Pegasus shuttle runs with little wiggle room to allow a driver to escape for two days for some good R&R. But it looked like I was going to get to go after all.
For Happy Camper School we’re supposed to arrive with all our assigned ECW gear. We don’t necessarily need to be wearing it, but we need to have it all with us out there as a “just in case.” I hadn’t worn the gigantic blue “Frankenstein” boots since the day I arrived so I was stoked about getting the opportunity to wear them since they were just so different from any boot I had ever worn. All the other camping gear was supplied by FSTP. FSTP stands for the Field Safety Training Shop and is commonly known around McMurdo as FSTP (pronounced F-Stop). This department is located in the Science Support Center which is also known as SSC, the eyebrow, or 004.
These two words were: Happy Camper.
Happy Camper School (Snow Survival Training 101), a dream come true for someone like me. Well, for just about any of us down here since the majority of us are lost adventurers. But here I was, a person with a Bachelor’s of Science in Adventure Recreation, ten years of servitude to the industry and I might get the opportunity to partake in Snow Survival training in Antarctica, the harshest of harshest climates. Rock on.
As reality will have it, not everyone is necessarily guaranteed an opportunity to go through Happy Camper School. It is primarily a training held for those going out to field camps located far away from the safety net of McMurdo. These people generally are grantees or field support contractors employed by Raytheon. Since I work in the Shuttle Department, we don’t necessarily ever leave McMurdo so I knew going in that I might not be guaranteed an opportunity to go to Happy Camper. We drive about an hour away from McMurdo when we head out to the Pegasus ice runway, but we were still around buildings that had phones and means of getting out of the elements should they take a turn for the worse. We were low on the priority list. For us in our department a trip out to Happy Camper School was considered a “boondoggle” or a moral trip. Something we earned for all the sweat, blood, and tears we shed throughout the season to support science. Either way, I would take it if the opportunity ever presented itself. It was hard enough being a driver for one of the Happy Camper take to’s or pick up’s that we were scheduled to do twice a week. I’d pull in with my delta and stare longingly at the lucky souls who had gotten to spend two nights out in the Antarctic elements.
Thursday afternoon I found myself sitting quietly at an empty table during lunch. It was my day off. I had spent the morning catching up on life and had just walked into the galley fully intent on eating a peaceful meal at one of the tables by myself. I was sitting there in my own little world when my supervisor Sharona loomed over me. “I have a question for you,” she said. “I was wondering if you were interested in going to Happy Camper School.”
I stared up at her. Was I interested in Happy Camper School?? By all means! “Uh, yeah,” I said hurriedly, afraid she would retract her offer. “Ok, good,” she said. “It’ll be tomorrow and you’ll have to be up at the FSTP building at 8:00am. I’ll email you all the information you need to know for it.”
With that she walked away and I found myself staring at my lunch tray. It’s early January. I have a little over a month left before I would be boarding that big C-17 and flying northbound. I had given up on the idea of getting to go to Happy Camper School since at this point we were well into the season and our schedules were pretty packed with Pegasus shuttle runs with little wiggle room to allow a driver to escape for two days for some good R&R. But it looked like I was going to get to go after all.
For Happy Camper School we’re supposed to arrive with all our assigned ECW gear. We don’t necessarily need to be wearing it, but we need to have it all with us out there as a “just in case.” I hadn’t worn the gigantic blue “Frankenstein” boots since the day I arrived so I was stoked about getting the opportunity to wear them since they were just so different from any boot I had ever worn. All the other camping gear was supplied by FSTP. FSTP stands for the Field Safety Training Shop and is commonly known around McMurdo as FSTP (pronounced F-Stop). This department is located in the Science Support Center which is also known as SSC, the eyebrow, or 004.
 |
| (FSTP) |
Friday dawned bright and early with promises of beautiful weather ahead of us. There were nine of us in the class with one instructor. Typically it is 20 students to two instructors but since it is getting later in the season at this point it is mainly boondogglers taking the class with a few grantees thrown in there, so the numbers are lower. To qualify for a position at FSTP you have to have at least ten years of mountaineering experience with Mt. Denali equivalent climbing experience or higher, so quite the resume.
The objective of Happy Camper is simply this: to provide you with the skills to survive should you get caught in a white out (Condition One weather) or if you become separated from your field camp party. It also prepares you for field camp life and sleeping/living out in the elements. A lot of the grantees or field support staff doesn’t necessarily always come from an outdoor generated background, so they need to know how to set up a “mountain tent” or to light a MSR whisperlite stove.
Since the class was snow survival 101, a lot of it was professional review for me. It was interesting to see how much NOLS curriculum they used and how much of it I was already familiar with having been an instructor at one point myself. I found myself sitting there listening to the instructor chatting about subjective and objective hazards and it felt like déjà vu since that was a class I had often taught out in the field myself.
We spent a couple of hours in the classroom talking about hazards, cold injuries and risk assessment. Two of our biggest enemies out there were dehydration and the sun. Due to the zero humidity factor down here, we’re in a near constant state of dehydration and it’s something that can affect you in a matter of minutes. Water is our drink of choice. With 24hours of glaring sunlight and a gigantic sheet of ice added to the mix, snow blindness and extreme sunburn were major risks. We lathered on the sunscreen, knowing full well we would still come back looking like scalded raccoons. We then geared up and clambered into the delta with all our gear to head out to the Happy Camper site location. The drive out to Happy Camper takes about 30 minutes in a delta depending on the road conditions.
Once dropped off, we loaded our gear into a trailer attached to a skidoo and we walked the ten minutes it took to get to the Happy Camper hut while our instructor drove the skidoo to the hut. The majority of “camping” here in Antarctica is what you would classify as car camping. It’s full on expedition style camping, but all the gear is delivered in a very different way than what I or anyone else was typically used to.
A common term in the outdoor education world is “light is right” or the “40lb initiative”. Antarctica throws that mentality right out the window. Down here the term is, “weight is great.” The gear is heavy and sturdy to keep you out of the elements. Skidoos and vehicles such as piston bullys or Hagglunds are sometimes used to drive gear in to field camps. You often arrive to your designated field camp location via one of the LC-130’s equipped with skies for landing, one of the Basslers from Ken Borek Air, or one of the helicopters that we have here at McMurdo. There’s no need to don a backpack down here.
The objective of Happy Camper is simply this: to provide you with the skills to survive should you get caught in a white out (Condition One weather) or if you become separated from your field camp party. It also prepares you for field camp life and sleeping/living out in the elements. A lot of the grantees or field support staff doesn’t necessarily always come from an outdoor generated background, so they need to know how to set up a “mountain tent” or to light a MSR whisperlite stove.
Since the class was snow survival 101, a lot of it was professional review for me. It was interesting to see how much NOLS curriculum they used and how much of it I was already familiar with having been an instructor at one point myself. I found myself sitting there listening to the instructor chatting about subjective and objective hazards and it felt like déjà vu since that was a class I had often taught out in the field myself.
We spent a couple of hours in the classroom talking about hazards, cold injuries and risk assessment. Two of our biggest enemies out there were dehydration and the sun. Due to the zero humidity factor down here, we’re in a near constant state of dehydration and it’s something that can affect you in a matter of minutes. Water is our drink of choice. With 24hours of glaring sunlight and a gigantic sheet of ice added to the mix, snow blindness and extreme sunburn were major risks. We lathered on the sunscreen, knowing full well we would still come back looking like scalded raccoons. We then geared up and clambered into the delta with all our gear to head out to the Happy Camper site location. The drive out to Happy Camper takes about 30 minutes in a delta depending on the road conditions.
Once dropped off, we loaded our gear into a trailer attached to a skidoo and we walked the ten minutes it took to get to the Happy Camper hut while our instructor drove the skidoo to the hut. The majority of “camping” here in Antarctica is what you would classify as car camping. It’s full on expedition style camping, but all the gear is delivered in a very different way than what I or anyone else was typically used to.
A common term in the outdoor education world is “light is right” or the “40lb initiative”. Antarctica throws that mentality right out the window. Down here the term is, “weight is great.” The gear is heavy and sturdy to keep you out of the elements. Skidoos and vehicles such as piston bullys or Hagglunds are sometimes used to drive gear in to field camps. You often arrive to your designated field camp location via one of the LC-130’s equipped with skies for landing, one of the Basslers from Ken Borek Air, or one of the helicopters that we have here at McMurdo. There’s no need to don a backpack down here.
 |
| Our Chariot the Delta |
 |
| Our Instructor hauling our gear in to the Happy Camper Hut |
 |
| Hiking in to where we would set up our mock field camp |
 |
| Mt. Erebus loomed before us |
The rest of the afternoon was spent learning how to set up a mock field camp. We went through the proper erection of the Scott Tent which is a tent named after the famous Robert F. Scott who died on his last trek a mere 100 miles from being the first man to set foot at the South Pole a hundred years ago. We learned how to set up a breaker wall to stop snow drifts if the wind picked up in the middle of the night. We flagged out a walking route from each tent and sleeping trench back to the main camp area so that way if the visibility diminished we would be able to find our way back and forth. Once camp was established, we were left on our own to simulate an actual field camp and our instructor made his way back to the Happy Camper Instructor hut for the night.
 |
| The Outhouse |
 |
| Scott's Tent |
 |
| Building our Drift Wall |
 |
| The wall under construction |
 |
| Snow Trench for sleeping |
 |
| Our kitchen |
 |
| The layout of camp |
Dinner consisted of freeze dried backpacker style meals. So all we had to do was heat water and boil a few pots of melted snow and we had our dinner. All day the temperature had ranged in the upper 30’s so it wasn’t a problem lingering outside in the kitchen area. The sun still beat down on us even though it was well past 7:00pm in the evening.
At this point in the season, we are well into Antarctica’s “summer.” The temperature probably hasn’t hit zero degrees in a few weeks. It was most likely in the lower 20’s in the evening and nearing 40 degrees during the day with the sun high over head. I had hoped to do Happy Camper when the temperatures were still in the negative just to experience something a little different since winter camping was already a familiar friend. But as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers. It was enough just to be out there in a world of white surrounded by absolute silence with Mt. Erebus, an active volcano looming as our backdrop. I have always wondered what the sound of “absolute silence” was. I think I have finally found it. I found myself staring out toward Mt. Erebus listening. There was nothing to listen to. The air around me was disturbed by nothing but the sound of my own breathing. It was amazing and beautiful.
At this point in the season, we are well into Antarctica’s “summer.” The temperature probably hasn’t hit zero degrees in a few weeks. It was most likely in the lower 20’s in the evening and nearing 40 degrees during the day with the sun high over head. I had hoped to do Happy Camper when the temperatures were still in the negative just to experience something a little different since winter camping was already a familiar friend. But as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers. It was enough just to be out there in a world of white surrounded by absolute silence with Mt. Erebus, an active volcano looming as our backdrop. I have always wondered what the sound of “absolute silence” was. I think I have finally found it. I found myself staring out toward Mt. Erebus listening. There was nothing to listen to. The air around me was disturbed by nothing but the sound of my own breathing. It was amazing and beautiful.
 |
| Mt. Erebus--An active volcano, you can see the steam rising from the top of the mountain |
The sleeping bags we were given were rated around -40 degrees. I slept well despite the ever present glare of the sun overhead. I found myself waking up in a pool of my own sweat I was so hot in the little nest I had created for myself. I had gone to sleep lying on top of my carhart overalls, my boots tucked up alongside me to help keep them from freezing. Nothing had frozen, but they were still damp from the day before. It’s always a joy throwing damp and cold gear on first thing in the morning, but two seasons of kayak guiding in the wet environment of Alaska had prepped me well. Grit your teeth and grin and bear it is my motto. There are a lot worse things in the world.
Our second day in the field consisted of search and rescue scenarios back at the Instructor hut. This was the highlight of the experience for me since it was new knowledge. I knew roughly what to do if ever caught in a white out condition, but not to the extent that was dealt with down here. We went through the “bucket head” scenario which was highly entertaining to witness. Our second scenario was setting up a “survival camp” in under 45 minutes with the survival kit that we always carry when we are out in the field or traveling to a field camp.
Our second day in the field consisted of search and rescue scenarios back at the Instructor hut. This was the highlight of the experience for me since it was new knowledge. I knew roughly what to do if ever caught in a white out condition, but not to the extent that was dealt with down here. We went through the “bucket head” scenario which was highly entertaining to witness. Our second scenario was setting up a “survival camp” in under 45 minutes with the survival kit that we always carry when we are out in the field or traveling to a field camp.
McMurdo’s field camps are equipped with two different types of radios for communication, a VHS radio and a HF radio. In the Shuttles Department we use the VHS radios, but the HF was a new toy. It was the same type of radio that the military is equipped with if they’re out in the field in combat. We learned how to set it up and learned what radio frequencies we could use as well as what channels and then we had to do a test call to see if it was working properly. We decided to call the South Pole. McMurdo is located about 850 miles from the South Pole. Our call went through on the second attempt amidst a bit of static. It was surreal to be speaking with someone via a HF radio at the South Pole. All of us stood there with grins spreading from ear to ear on baited breath, listening to the woman on the other end. We put our call in and requested a weather status for the South Pole.
It was a balmy -26 degrees Celsius with 6 knots of wind at the South Pole
No comments:
Post a Comment