I glance over at the piles of cold-weather clothes, toiletries, and a knee-high stack of books on the floor of my room, all of which will serve to keep me alive and well in both the physical and mental sense during the next three months. I pause to take in the magnitude of the adventure that I will be embarking on. I am reminded of a quote by Cheryl Strayed: “Your life will be a great and continuous unfolding.” I wonder at what will unfold on this incredible journey during the next few months.
It is five days before I leave for Antarctica. Yes, Antarctica, you know, the southernmost continent. Maybe you are imagining a cold, unforgivable place. Lots of ice. A place full of mystery and beauty because of its relatively untouched and remote character. A place where not much lives because it can’t. Maybe a few penguins and a few seals near the coast. A place where not many people go.
I first stumbled upon the study of glaciers at age eleven for a school-related science competition. I spent hours every day flipping through pages of glaciology textbooks, soaking up the science, and drawn in by the unique beauty of glaciers and their landscapes (yes, I was a rather studious kid!). These glacially carved landscapes were ever-so familiar to me and served as a kind of sanctuary. My family cultivated my appreciation for the outdoors with many wonderful and adventurous trips to the mountains. My obsession with science and glaciers grew further when family struggles during my teenage years made my passion for scientific scholarship seem like the only light within the darkness that was my life. I wondered and secretly hoped that I would someday get to visit a glacier, maybe even Antarctica.
Up until my graduate studies, though, I did not think I would ever get to visit. Not only visit, but do field work there. And not only go to one of the scientific research stations that reside at the South Pole or McMurdo, but out in the “deep field” (i.e., in the middle of nowhere, which takes on an even stronger meaning in this expansive and unpopulated region of the world).
I, along with four other graduate students, one post-doctoral researcher, and my advisor, will be setting up camp at Hercules Dome, an ice dome situated at the boundary between the West Antarctic and East Antarctic ice sheets – for up to forty days, dependent on logistics and weather. Among many other endeavors which I hope to write about later, our main goal is to survey this site to find an optimal location to drill the next deep U.S. ice core. What a unique opportunity, you might be thinking. And yes, I feel deeply grateful for such an opportunity. I also feel a lot of other emotions – excited, anxious, and preparing to be courageous and daring in many ways on the bottom side of the world.
There are several things that motivated me to write about this experience. Firstly, this Antarctic field work is unique in several ways. No one before us will have resided for so long at Hercules Dome ever before. Our team also is graduate-student-dominated, meaning that the ratio of graduate students to experienced PIs is high (5:1). Additionally, we will be a small field camp, consisting of only six people total for most of the time we will be camping. Most are much larger. Further, I hope that I can write from a unique perspective. I have never been to Antarctica before. I also am a woman in a male-dominated field of science going to a male-dominated region of the world, which I know will and has been significant to try to navigate and learn from during my graduate studies. Finally, my friends and family very much gave me encouragement to write about my experience, especially in a way that can reach others who are not experts in the field. I will try to post as much as I can about this experience, and hope you can stop by to check in soon!
Best,
Annika