In 2003 I was often asked, "Why go to Antarctica". For me, I wanted to see unique pelagic life and the stark black, white and grey landscape most humans will never experience. It was also a journey of the mind: to visit the southern continent near the axis of the earth where day and night are extreme; and to see places where nineteenth and early twentieth century explorers discovered new lands at considerable hardship. Today it's popular for adventure and catastrophe tourism (seeing wildlife and ice sheets before they disappear). Recently I've been asked, "Why go to the Arctic - in winter? !!
My entire life I've been drawn to off-the-beaten-path outdoor and cultural adventures. In my teens and twenties I drove cross-country on Blue Highways eight times. In my twenties and thirties I was mountaineering in the Cascades; and in my thirties and forties I kayaked the Salish sea and off the west coast of Vancouver Island (once in winter), and backpacked for weeks through the remote mountains of the Wind River Range, Sawtooths, Yellowstone N.P. and North Cascades. In my forties, fifties and early sixties I took two-week treks among the highest mountains on earth; Himalayas in Nepal and Bhutan, and the Andes in Peru and Patagonia.
During my international career I traveled solo to remote villages in China, the Middle East, India, and the drug-lord controlled Golden Triangle (Laos, Thailand and Vietnam). After retirement, Robin and I traveled to many non-touristed destinations in Eastern Europe, South America and Africa.
I make no claim to a lifestyle of extreme sports, service in the Peace Corps, or fearlessness of war journalists. Many have committed and risked their lives to much, much more. I tried to balance my desire for adventure with a career, family, and managed risk. Since The Third Phase, however, my physical outdoor adventures have taken a back seat to our cultural travels.
When we returned from the Balkans last November, I told Robin, "I have an itch I can't scratch". I feel time is moving on and I want at least one more unique outdoor experience. At the time I was finishing a book from my polar library entitled "Furthest North", by Norweigan Fridtjof Nansen. He is considered the Dean of nineteenth century polar exploration. Based on remains of a previous polar expedition whose ship was crushed by ice north of Siberia, and found several years later on the east coast of Greenland, he deduced that there must be a polar current that moves arctic sea-ice across the North Pole.
He had a ship, The Fram, purposely designed and built to be embedded in sea-ice, so that when ice closed in the ship popped up rather than being crushed. In 1893 he and his crew (which included young Amundsen - later first to reach the South Pole) embarked on a daring but well researched and planned attempt to prove the current exists and, if possible, to reach the North Pole. They sailed across the top of Siberia, trapped their ship in the ice, then drifted for over a year to a high latitude where he and one other left the The Fram with provisions, dogs and sledges to make a dash for the pole. They got to 86 deg 14', (225 nautical miles from the pole), a record furthest north, before retreating. They took a year to return having to winter on the frozen arctic ocean. Their destination: Spitsbergen!
Map of arctic with Spitsbergen (Svalbard) in yellow south of the ice-sheet and north of Norway
Spitsbergen was the name given to the islands by Dutch explorer Willem Barents in the sixteenth century meaning "pointy mountains". It remained so named until the islands became part of Norway in 1925, when they gave the archipelago the Norwegian name Svalbard, meaning "cold coast", and restricted the Dutch name to the largest island. It is the furtherest north land mass close to Europe, and the jumping off place for historic arctic exploration. It also has the furtherest north city in the world Longyearbyen, which seemed fitting to visit since I'd been to the furthest south city in the world Ushuaia. Within a couple weeks of returning from the Balkans, I decided that's the trip I need to take. And I wanted it to be in winter for a true polar adventure, not a summer tourist experience.
I found a company, BaseCamp Explorer, in Longyearbyen, that offered what I was looking for. I reached out and said I wanted "cold, dark and windy" to experience a polar winter, and I did not want to ride snow mobiles, but mush dog sledges the way polar explorers did. They advised that March is their coldest month and is also the transition between the constant dark of winter through mid-February, and the midnight sun beginning in mid-April. I signed up for their five day Trapper trip starting March 4th, to be sure of cold and dark. There'd be only two of customers, two guides, and thirty dogs. We'd mush for three days and camp isolated on the ice-covered tundra.
To reach Longyearbyen I flew from Seattle to London, arrived the following morning, and had a seven hour layover before departing for Oslo, Norway, arriving late at night. I stayed at the airport hotel and early the next morning flew from Oslo to Tromso, at the northern tip of Norway, for immigration control before departing for Longyearbyen. (Svalbard is not part of Europe's Schengen agreement, which I'll explain later.) It was 43 hours door to door.
Approaching Svalbard surrounded by sea-ice.
Longyearbyen has a year round population of 2,500, with about 20% changing annually. Until the mid twentieth century it was a coal mining town operated by Norwegians, Russians and other countries, though the first to mine coal was an American, Longyear, who sold his company in the 1920s. The suffix
-byen is Norwegian for city or town. When Norway was given sovereignty over the islands, it was agreed that other nations could continue mining. Thus, the islands are not part of the Schengen agreement that allows European countries to travel passport-free. The last coal mine in town shut just last year, though Russia still runs two mines on the island outside of town. Today, the primary economy is tourism, with the vast majority in summer.
On this map north is roughly to the right.
The red line around the town is maintained polar bear free and no gun is required.
Hotel in center of town, though everything is in the center of town.
Polar bear in hotel lobby
My rustic guest room
View of main street from guest room
The morning after I checked in I took myself for a walk around town and the one main street. The town has a good selection of restaurants, one with a Prix Fixe of $300! (I did not go there as not interested in "art food".) However, I did find a restaurant serving reindeer, minke whale, and seal.
The red meat on left is Minke whale, with horseradish sauce.
Tastes like a cross of beef steak and salmon.
About noon the sun is less than 6 deg above horizon, the maximum for the day.
The historic tram towers for transporting coal from mine to port is visible (cables removed).
This time of year the city is in constant shadow.
The tram towers traverse the fluted cliffs
That afternoon we had our pre-trip briefing where I met my tent mate Jan and our guides Marta and Pavel. I was relieved to find that Jan was only one year younger than I. Part of the trip description requires that on uphill sections you need to get off the sledge and push through deep snow to assist the dogs. I didn't want to slow the group down if they were young and energetic. The lead guide Marta was a very cute 35 y.o. Italian who works as a nurse in London during the summer season; and Pavel was a 50 year old Czech. They both love dogs and the arctic as their reason for being here. Both leave Longyearbyen during the twenty-four hours of winter darkness when there is little tourism.
Jan and Marta at briefing in lodge dining room
Marta explained there was a winter wind-storm forecast for our first night and the next day and we'll have to revise the trip plan. In order to have a safe retreat if needed we'll not take the route up hill to the traditional camp location, but stay closer to the flat river valley. We'll decide the second day whether to continue or shorten the trip by a day. After our briefing we were supplied with heavy felt lined winter boots, one piece mushing suit, mittens and fur lined hat with balaclava. For camp we were provided tents, sleeping pads and arctic sleeping bag with fur lined hood. We each had to provide our own wool base layer (underwear), down parka and personal gear. The following morning we were picked up and taken to the kennel out of town and the start of the trail.
Marta explaining polar bear flare gun repellant, rifle, emergency radio, and other gear
Pavel loading steel anchor to secure the sledge when stopped
Staff putting booties on the dog's hind feet.
For harnessing you face the same direction as the dogs.
The dogs are chained within eight feet of their shelter. They are very excited to get mushing and are constantly barking (see video in email) and jumping around. To harness the dog you hold them between your legs at the hip and they know that means to calm down. The harness is slipped over their heads and draped across the back, while you slip each foreleg through it. The top of the harness is a web handle, like a suitcase. Once released from your knees they again are jumping and pulling you around. We were told to lift them by the harness handle so the front feet are off the ground. Pavel said that reduces their power from four-wheel drive to two-wheel drive. Though the dogs are not large, on my first attempt I lifted the dog up, but he was so excited that he leaped forward and pulled me face first into the snow. I then realized how strong they are. You need firm physical direction to control them.
When mushing Marta was in the lead and gave verbal command to her team Gee, go right; Haw, go left; Sto(p), stop; and Clara, get ready to pull. They are so excited to run that they'd take off when you say it. Other teams just follow the lead team.
My team in first hour mushing with Marta in the lead.
There are only three ways to control speed: let 'em run (but don't let them pass other sledges), uphill get out and assist by pushing, and when downhill, or the team is trying to pass the sledge in front, stand on the break, which is a metal bar at your feet with two spikes that drive into the snow. When you're stopped for a brief moment standing on the bar works, but when they are excited they can drag the sledge with your full weight on the break. For that situation there is a anchor tied to the handle of the sledge composed of two connected cut steel plates making a claw about eight inches by one foot that is dropped into the snow and stomped on to secure it. Even then, if the snow is light or the surface icy the dogs can still drag the sledge. For longer stops when off the sledge, there's an additional a front anchor for the lead dog, and the sledge is turned on its side to prevent them from running away with your supplies.
Sledges tipped over to prevent run aways
Our first destination was the terminus of the Tellbreen Glacier and ice caves
About 25 km from our start. The dogs can do about ten km an hour
Marta and Jan in ice caves under glacier
Marta checking weather with Polar Bear rifle at the ready.
Jan standing on break on way to camp, another 15 km from glacier.
At our destination the wind storm came roaring in. To make camp, Marta directed us to form a diamond shape with the four teams and "circle the wagons". We staked out a steel cable next to each team and transferred the dogs from the trace to the cable for the night. Our tents were inside the diamond because the best polar bear protection is the dogs. By law, we'd each have to take watch for a couple hours through the night, but with the storm Marta decided the dogs were enough early warning. They will sense the bear long before we could ever see it, whiteout or not, and bark crazily. We all participated in setting up the tents, putting vests on the dogs, and feeding them some meat product that looks like a large chunks of frozen Spam followed by a gruel made of "dog-food product" with hot water. While three of us buttressed the tents with snow around the perimeter, Pavel carved snow blocks to built a wind break for our latrine. It was like half an igloo. We had three tents, one for Jan and I, one for the guides, and one for our communal dining hall. Dinner was excellent reindeer stew made by a local caterer. It was frozen solid but we were constantly melting water so the plastic bag was just heated in the water. We also had chocolate brownies with coffee or tea.
Marta feeding dogs their gruel
Pavel after building latrine
Me inside tent vestibule getting ready for bed.
A chore to remove all the outer layers and stuffing them in or under the sleeping bag; and placing all items needed during the night handy; headlamp, pee bottle, water bottle (not to be confused). We slept in hat, base layer and socks. Very toasty.
During the night the storm picked up with winds steady at 30 - 40 and gusts to 50. (Be careful what you wish for - you may get it! See video in email.) It sounded like a freight train inside the tent with flapping fabric. While it wasn't snowing, you couldn't tell by conditions. The wind blew the snow from the surroundings and deposited it on our tents and dogs. In the morning, before we had coffee or anything, we roused the dogs from their peaceful sleep to feed them. Some didn't want to get out of their cozy covering of snow even to eat.
Early in the morning we had to dig out of our tent.
To reach our dining tent in the middle we had to dig out the doorway.
People express concerns for the dogs, but they are bred for these conditions.
They bury their nose in their crotch and go to sleep insulated by their fur and snow.
A few dogs were almost stepped on in the morning.
Over breakfast of porridge we all discussed what we wanted to do. The forecast was for similar conditions all day and through the next night. Our options were to spend the day in the tent, to mush to the next campsite, but that would be into the wind and blowing snow with no visibility, or cut the trip short and return back to the kennel with the wind at our back. The guides were willing to do what ever we wanted. We decided it was not worth laying in a tent all day, and mushing into the teeth of the storm with no visibility did not seem rewarding either. We elected to return to base.
It took four people to strike our tents to prevent them from blowing away. After we packed our sledges with all the camping gear, untethered and harnessed the dogs, we were ready to leave around 11:00 am. Visibility was near zero but we all had GPS for navigating back to base. To leave we turned the teams in a tight circle and tried not to tip over the sledges; then mushed into the wind for about half an hour to reach the valley. On turning right into the valley, the wind would be at our back for the three hour return. The valley is over the braided Longyearbyen river which was frozen solid. Because of the wind storm, the previous day's snow covering was often blown away leaving crystal clear ice in patches. This added additional challenges for the dogs and for the musher trying to break or control around corners. We took no photos on the way back. It was complete whiteout. At times I could not see Marta thirty feet ahead of me and trusted the dogs to follow her track. Same for those following me.
This is how the lee side of my body looked.
I'd like to know what the windward side looked like.
Marta caked in ice. The white collar below here chin was a 1/2" thick rim of solid ice,
not ice caked fabric like her hat.
Mission accomplished. L-R Pavel, Jan, Marta, Moi.
GPS track of route. Longyearbyen is just off the map to the left,
Tellbreen glacier and ice cave at top and camp at red dot.
Back a day earlier than planned I relaxed as I was exhausted. I was surprised how physically demanding mushing is; often standing on one leg with the other breaking the ambitious dogs, constantly shifting weight to keep the sledges from tipping over, and wallowing through knee deep snow at the glacier and camp. Occasionally the wind would knock me over into the deep snow where there is no resistance to push up to stand again.
The following two days I went to their two museums, one on polar exploration from Svalbard, and the other the history of the island. In the early twentieth century there were two claims by Americans that they reached the north pole Robert Perry from Canada and Frederick Cook from Greenland. Both claims were controversial. Amundsen at 53, having reached the South Pole at 39, led a Norwegian expedition on the dirigible The Norge, designed by an Italian, Nobel. They left from Svalbard. That too was controversial because Amundsen, as expedition leader took all the credit, while Nobel and the Italian government, having designed and built the airship, thought it should be shared. Later it was determined that neither Perry nor Cook had a credible claims to reaching the North Pole, Amundsen is now credited with being the first to reach both poles.
Newspaper of Amundsen reaching North Pole of Norge dirigible.
Denied credit for reaching the pole with Amundsen, Nobel, now a General, planned another flight to the pole. Upon reaching it the crew dropped a cross and Italian Flag from the hovering ship. However, rather than lowering a team to the surface he decided to immediately return as the weather deteriorated. On the flight back the ship iced up and could not maintain altitude. It crashed onto the ice sheet between the pole and Svalbard shearing off the cabin and most crew. With the weight and controls ripped away, the airship and remaining crew rapidly ascended and were never found. A massive International search and rescue attempt was made, including by Amundsen in an airplane. In the storm, his plane crashed as well and was never found either. He was 59. Eventually, Nobel and the crew were found on an ice-sheet by a search airplane and he was rescued, and later the crew was rescued by a Russian ice breaker. It too was controversial as the General was accused of abandoning his crew and saving himself first. There is a 1960s Russian movie, with English subtitles, that's fairly accurate about the tragedy called, The Red Tent, with Sean Connery, Peter Finch, and Claudia Cardinale.
Russian movie with English subtitles
The history museum was excellent with many exhibits of geography, exploration, trappers, wildlife, mining, and climate change.
Exhibit of arctic sea-ice loss. Red outline from 1979
Temperature changes from 1975
Permafrost preserved artifacts from nineteenth century trappers
Fossilized footprint of dinosaur
The last morning before heading to the airport, Jan and I went to a mining museum in an abandoned mine.
In coal seams only 24" high, miners drilled multiple holes for dynamite with a 50 lb drill in 28 degree temperature.
Other crew would install 200, 80 lbs jacks every 4' every day to hold up ceilings, while others hauled away shattered coal.
And they were glad to have a job.
2' thick coal seam in mine.
One shaft was converted to microfilm storage.
Anyone can pay to store their documents on microfilm for thousands of years.
The also had the original Seed Vault.
On taxiing at airport to depart Longyearbyen I glimpsed the Global Seed Vault entry where thousands of ancient and modern seeds are stored in the permafrost in case of an apocalyptic event. No public access is allowed.
Close up view of Seed Vault entry into the mountain.
This is my final post. Thank you for reading.
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