2010, by BrennanLagasse

In part 1 of "Skiing the Frozen Continent of Antarctica", Dark Star gets the opportunity of a lifetime to go backcountry skiing in Antarctica. Part 2 picks up with a ski report from his first turns of the trip in Ushuaia, Argentina. Part 3 (below) details his adventure heading South...

We Follow the Lines Going South

Heading back to town and switching to the swankier Albatross Hotel for the evening, Ice Axe took the whole boat out to dinner. This was another chance to scope the awesome terrain on the outskirts of Ushuaia and across the water in Chile; truly stunning opportunities for the motivated backcountry skier. After dinner on the outer edge of Tierra del Fuego National Park it was another tough night of sleep knowing we were supposed to load on a boat and head even further south to Antarctica the next day.

All the guides helped to load everyone's gear into trucks in the morning. The scene was amusing to say the least as there were plentiful bags of gear to transport. The trucks then brought everything down to the boat from the hotel. After helping haul people's luggage for a few hours I felt like I had actually been out for a long ski day. The next few hours were spent hanging in town and picking up any last minute items before our scheduled departure. During this time I actually got to check out the boat a bit earlier than the rest of the passengers because I helped my group bring some extra film equipment to the ship. The ship. I'd never used a ship to access skiing before. It was enormous!

As the whole crew assembled, we took a group photo and went through "customs". This was merely to give the appearance that someone cared as neither the metal detector nor x-ray machine worked. Everyone was so incredibly stoked. Moving as a group and boarding the Clipper Adventurer together, the energy was unmistakable. It was like each person was emitting such a huge sense of stoke that everyone else felt it.

After being shown my room by one of the many service people aboard and throwing my bags in my room, we met with the Quark staff. These people were the naturalists and biologists onboard that would tell us about our route to Antarctica, what wildlife we'd see there and along the way, how to travel as consciously on the ice as possible, and share some historical perspectives with us as well.

Within minutes of a bon voyage toast the anchor was lifted, the Clipper was untied, and we were sailing down the Beagle Channel. Most people flocked to the top of the ship where a near 360 degree view got those "I wonder's" going as the mountains and ski terrain that revealed itself along the way was literally anything you could ever dream of. It was even hard to sit down to dinner that night because out the window I could still see unreal mountains passing bay. Dinner, like all the food we'd eat for the next 11 days, was five-star and a far cry from anything I had ever experienced.

After dinner I went down to my room to unpack and met my roommate. Sean Busby is a professional snowboarder who beyond training for the 2014 Olympics was on the trip testing state of the art medications for diabetic athletes. After swapping stories for bit and getting some gear sorted I went back up to the top of the ship to see what was going on.

It had started snowing. Actually it was dumping, and before I passed out for the evening I was able to witness an interesting phenomenon. It turns out when a vessel is sailing to Antarctica through Argentine waters an Argentine Captain much accompany the main Captain. When the ship reaches the beginning of the Drake Passage the Argentine Captain gets picked up by a small tug boat and is brought to another large ship anchored near the mouth of where open ocean begins. Seems some old-school maritime law forbids non-national Captains to sail this stretch of water without an Argentine national, but once the ship hits the open water it's free rein.

I thought I would catch up on sleep that evening, and the next, as we were due to sail for the next 60+ hours. While I did get to rest in bed for several hours, I definitely woke up numerous times as the boat swayed back and forth so much that I was visibly shaken from my bed. As breakfast approached the next day, honestly, it was pretty weird to get out of bed and have everything around me flopping back and forth.

Nervously, I looked out our porthole window and saw the intensely unique sight of open ocean swell crashing into our boat. Although there was a lot of action, apparently the 30ish foot forecast was not that big of a deal so I just played along. Luckily my meds seemed to work as I didn't feel sick, but there wasn't too much activity on the boat our first day in the Drake.

Crossing the Infamous Drake Passage

I quickly learned that crossing the Drake Passage was a big deal. If there was a forecast for huge seas, the quest to ski Antarctica would come secondary to surviving the boat ride. For the net two days we would watch ski movies in one part of the boat and simply mingle with our shipmates. Walking up to the top of the ship was always a trip as there was nothing around us but ocean, scary looking open swells that looked like they were trying to knock us over, and hordes of diverse sea birds following our path.

There were Albatross, Petrels, and at time sprays of water bursting through the air from the blowholes of whales. Snow would dump at times, and then vanish in an instant. It was also extremely funny during our crossing to eat as there were several times you'd be eating, maybe talking with whomever you were sharing food with, and then hear a loud SMASH! It might have been a few dinner plates, or some wine glasses, but it was super funny each time and the wait staff treated it like a common occurrence. Frankly, I was surprised that if they knew this happened while crossing the Drake, why didn't they get some dishware that didn't break so easy?

Initially I thought it was going to be tough to be locked down in a boat with well over a hundred people for two and a half days and nothing to do, but it was actually extremely social. Not in a partying sense, although that face would certainly show itself later in the trip, but more in an "I just met another amazing individual" sort of way. Getting to know who was onboard was a constant high point during our travelers from the many ski guides, to the ski industry figure heads, and just all around adventure types onboard. This was also a chance for our group to dial in gear checks, and make sure everyone was ready for being as productive as possible when and if we got the weather windows we were hoping for.

After I realized that there was no chance I could carry all of the photography and filming equipment I was asked to, I found out there may be a chance passenger Dana Gleason, formerly of Dana Design, now of Mystery Ranch Backpacks, would rig my ten year old Dana Design pack for the mission. What a guy! Dana was totally willing to help piece together a pack that had been hammered for a long time and used patience and a deep knowledge base to bring it almost to the level it was as a brand new pack.

After more ski movies, a briefing on environmentally conscious traveling from the Quark staff where they actually set up stations for us to vacuum our packs out to insure no invasive anything would be left on the ice, and a "Zen" clinic facilitated by none other than Kristen Ulmer, everyone was ready to ski. That night, we saw our first iceberg, and just past midnight, between a few dark clouds with a couple of brilliant stars, we saw land. I think it was now safe to say we had successfully crossed the Drake Passage.

Read the complete story here:

Unexpected Bliss
The Martial Glacier
Crossing the Infamous Drake Passage
Land Ho!
The Lemaire Channel
Somewhere off the Antarctic Peninsula
Unloading the Pack in the South Shetland Islands
Ship of Fools
Another Powder Day in Ushuaia and the Epicness of El Chalten

X-Games Interviews with Jon Olson &...

Skiing the Frozen Continent of Anta...

That's Our Opinion. What's Yours?

Johnnyutah wrote on 02/12/10 at 10:42:10 am pst:

Just curious- how do you travel consciously on the ice?

Dark Star wrote on 03/02/10 at 11:00:27 am pst:

Hey Johnny, sorry for the late reply, I've been away on some more ski travels and am just getting reacquainted with the computer again.

So, long story short, when traveling on the ice its important to recognize that not many, if any, people have traveled where you are. There's sensitive vegetation in places like the Shetland Islands, in a penguin rookery if while you walk deep steps are created with your ski boots, when the tracks freeze, they may create a barrier for a penguin to ascend or descend to the water, and thinking about introducing non-native anything from trash to scraps of food is of the utmost importance.

The basic idea is to literally try and leave only footprints/ski tracks, and even those may have to be thought about in a more conscious manner than you would in the lower 48.