“Every man has his White South.”

- Ernest Shackleton

[Cape Horn, Drake Passage  60 degrees S/60 degrees W]

The Antarctic
Peninsula is home to the continent’s greatest wildlife diversity within some of the most spectacular scenery on the planet. However, one mammal not found in Antarctica associated with Polar Regions is the Polar Bear. But that’s not to say this noble furry beast of the Arctic is not celebrated down south.

Antarctic surface water, at least the top layer, is the water which most directly affects Antarctic plants and animals. Ice and cold air from the continent constantly chill the layer. In winter it remains below 30 degrees F, but come spring it may warm up to 32 degrees near its northern boundary at the convergence.

Of course, most Ice Axe expedition team members weren’t thinking such things as they prepared for the ship’s Polar Bear Plunge  they were just hoping they didn’t have a heart attack. Beforehand, Laurie, our Quark Expedition director, had mentioned that a person had maybe five minutes to survive once in the water. He didn’t have to worry. The 40 or so who braved the refrigerated waters broached out of the sea like Moby Dick after strapping Ahab on its back. It was like Old Faithful sprewing human Popsicle’s back to land. Let’s hear it for Mica, Meaghan, Adrian, Maria and Belgium beauty Excel hitting the water in their bikinis (Thank you, too, Lord). Then there was Keoki and Tucker doing flips off the upper rail and Tal Fletcher doing a back flip. Yes, diving into the Antarctic is extreme if not a bit of crazy. Although attempting defy-defying acts such as leaping into the Southern Ocean for most sane folks would be tantamount to digesting a bowling bowl; to Ice Axe athletes who chase adventure the way a dog chases tires, called and crazy, willing to be hit, extremism is kind of like having groovy sex and nosebleeds at the same time.

By late afternoon, the Clipper Adventurer withdraws with effort from the coast, breaking her way offshore through the Aitcho Channel in search of open water towards the north.

Behind us, ice mesas, white plains without end stretch south and east watch us go. Our small ship becomes a mere blot on the immaculate white napkin of the Antarctic. Snow petrels, Snowy sheathbills and Kelp gull appear and disappear in the golden haze of an evening twilight. On sun-filled wings, like doves of peace, they stir indistinct feelings of faint emotion to those on deck staring back at the disappearing shorelines and tabular icebergs.

It was Shackleton, referring to man¹s romantic dream of great adventure, who wrote, “The longing for ice, the sadness of departure, as if after all we cannot bear to leave this bleak waste of ice, glaciers, cold and toil.”

Aboard the Clipper Adventurer, uncomfortably well-fed, cosseted by hot showers and comfy beds, with Zodiac service and skilled guides ensuring our safety, the Antarctic adventure could appear more than a bit spurious and removed from the great explorer’s words.

Don’t fool yourself. None on board would have missed this voyage for the world. Ice Axe Expeditions Ski Cruise 2009 was a groundbreaking success. So what? Why should those, living thousands of miles away and into their own archetypes of extremity, want to know about any of this? What can people learn from a cross section of mountain folks running around unclaimed icefields in their long underwear?

Down deep, this expedition was really about faith; a capacity lost more and more from our lives.

It is preached that Jesus was a healer and performed miracles. I believe Jesus was a man, and if he could do what he did, then so can all of us. He just had more faith than most. Each of us, however, has a certain amount of faith. And I believe that when enough people give themselves wholly to something, they can bring about miraculous changes. This Ice Axe expedition certainly brought about a miracle in weather, logistics, accomplishment, but most of all learning that Antarctica is a precious place to cherish.

“You can always do more than you think you can. You don¹t know until you take on the challenge,” explained Kevin Quinn to me one windy day high atop an end of the world snowfield.

The morning of the Nov. 18th, the luster of the calm return sea voyage wore off and we became horribly aware of tying up to the pier in Ushuaia. The Drake Passage swells had carried us gently back to civilization.

The next day on land, still in Ushuaia, around seven in the morning, I looked from my hotel room out upon the harbor at the Clipper Explorer. The sun rose with dispatch, as it does at the end of the world. The day was warm, but with a wet, cool breeze. Jagged boulders, piled by sea chop, rested against a distant headland. To the west, across the windswept Beagle Channel, stood cloud-diadem peaks and the Chilean frontier. I thought of Antarctica’s bending winds, the clean, pure spring of icy water and deserted late night sunsets where the sky changes from vermilion to yellow to indigo before burning off into the roof of the world.

Inside our hotel, Dick Banfield and Dave Marchi were gearing up to climb and ski down Cerro Martial above the nearby Aerosilla ski resort before heading to the airport later in the day.

You’d think after 12 days of risky endeavors, the cold and assorted fleeting infirmities that more climbing and skiing towards unforgiving peaks would be the last thing Ice Axe participants would want. Or, maybe, the thing they want most.

THE ICE AXE S.A.T

Q: True or false? If eaten raw, Arctic shark meat makes one feel very drunk, so much so that Eskimos call anyone who is drunk ”Shark-sick.”

A:True.

THE ICE AXE PROFILE

Even Sharks Need Love
5 Questions with Allan Marshall

Ice Ace marine biologist Allan Marshall, 42, might be the biggest fish out of water on the Antarctic ski cruise. The Brisbane, Australian born scientist and Florida Aquarium staff member, doesn’t spend his time bagging untamed peaks like most others. Instead, he’s worked as a Zodiac driver, which allows him the time to get on the wet suit and scuba dive into the Antarctic sea to study seals and other water life that thrives in the frigid waters. His work, much which is occupied with transporting species around the world, has taken him to such eclectic lands as Bali, China, Korea, China, Ireland and South Africa. In January, he heads up the Ice Axe Expedition trip to the Amazon.

ON WHY HE LOVES SHARKS

I grew up next to the ocean. I was always fascinated by the underwater world. Part of that fascination has dealt with sharks. I’m constantly impressed. Like any predator at the top of the food chain, I admire their power and grace.

ON THE BITE OF A SHARK

Bull sharks can grow up to 9 feet and weigh up to 400 pounds. They’re responsible for more attacks on humans than any other sharks. Once, I was transporting a Bull shark to a new aquarium. It was supposed to be sedated. I was in its cage next to him. A split second after I’d moved position next to it the shark awoke. Startled, it snapped its jaws just where I’d been. I mention this because I once saw this same shark split a 500-pound grouper in half with a single bite.

ON HIS FAVORITE AUSTRALIAN SAYING

“Don’t come for raw prawn with me.” It means, “I think you’re lying so stop
the line of bull.”

ON UNDERNEATH THE DEEP DARK SEA

I’ve made 1000s of dives around the world and encountered strange stuff.
Once I got caught on a coral reef at night in a small cave. I’d turned my headlamp off. I was smacked in the face by something very large and very hard. I have no idea what it was. I constantly remind myself to be careful and know my limits. Still, I couldn¹t help but swim with the Leopard Seals down here which can be a bit territorial. Don¹t tell my wife.

ON WORKING WITH ICE AXE

My biggest concern is getting the message out to the public about the environments. Ice Axe Expeditions is very good medium to do that. Doug goes up high. I go down low. It’s a good mix.

[Aitcho Islands, South Shetland Islands, Antarctica 62.22' degrees
S/59.47' degrees west]:

On a perfect day the cold atmosphere is clearer than glass and the distant vistas lie within a lively imagination’s immediate grasp. From the bridge looking north to northwest the glaciers fed into Aitcho Bay, turning bluish sea into milky turquoise with meltwater. Above them, inviting snowfields reached up and blended into the sky and lead upward into the sky towards untracked interiors never touched by humans and only roughly mapped by birdlife.

It was our last day of our Antarctic adventure. With an afternoon departure time for our voyage back across the Drake Passage there was still time for a morning foray for final ski turns.

Throughout our journey, Antarctica and its outlying islands had proved to be a mountaineer’s paradise. Tantalized by the loveliest mountains and untouched summits, teams led by accomplished guides had enjoyed cirques of powder and spiderweb lines threading down vertical couloirs and steep snow filled gullies. During the course of our travels, expeditions had summitted peaks and ridges above Cierva Cove on the actual Antarctic continent then climbed mountains that erupted like fangs out of the water at Wenke Island, Livingston Island, Discovery Bay, Greenwich Island, King George Island and finally the Aitcho Archepelago.

Our Ice Axe guides certainly were a notable lot. Eighteen in all, their experience and keen leadership had made the difference ascending numerous ascents and safe returns. There was John Griber, fresh off of Everest for the second time; Squaw Valley’s Glen Poulsen who had recently summitted Denali; Points North Heli-Ski Guides Tal Fletcher, John Mletschnig, Jason Mack, C.J.Warre, Tucker Patten, Ming Poon and Tom Waclo; IFMG guides Ben Mitchell and Jorge Kajoli: Jackson ski patrolmen Dan Starr and Doug Workman; Alaskan heli-ski pilot Christian Cabinella; Dave Marchi from Mount Shasta; Switzerland’s Hans Salzman and, of course, the Director of Guides Points North Heli-Ski founder Kevin Quinn. Throw in overall expedition leader and Polar High Priest Doug Stoup and this was quite a group, pretty much unequaled and all with numerous claims to fame.

Mountaineering in Antarctica isn’t quite the same as bagging Tahoe’s Tallac, Jake’s or Rubicon Peak. Dangers include crevasses, steep ice, long traverses, grippy snow and the proverbial avalanche danger. Pretty much the standard infirmities of the backcountry, but with a twist: This stuff had never been set foot upon there were a lot of variables, no fall zones, sickening serac towers and critical decision making.

Then there was the crippling weight of heavy packs. Most team members carried safety helmets, shovel, probe, transceiver, crampons, ice axe, ice screws, slings, stoppers, belay devices, skins, food and extra clothing. Exposures were such that ropes were typically needed, often with anchored belays. Throw on your back a pair of skis and climbing ropes and it can get a bit weighty. And that’s nothing compared to the photographers like Keoki Flagg or filmmakers like Tom Day who have to lug even more weight with all their camera gear.

But the rewards are beyond tired legs and backs. Amidst sparkling and wondrous surroundings, the scrunch of skis in katabatic breeze, the squeaky whine of planted ice axes and surreal columns of light join to become quite mystical. Close to the ridge you stop and look behind and Antarctica casts its beam and you realize what a spiritual precious milestone all these efforts are for. Fair weather cumulus clouds are the only things in movement otherwise the whole earth has stopped moving. There is not a sign of human existence anywhere except for our tracks in vanguards of snow.

It’s a big high during the last descent from ridge to shore. The moisture of air freezing, floating and sparkling in the sun’s rays chills lips and face. Weaving in and out below ice cliffs and seracs our turns connect onto the lower part of the slope until we finally stop feet from the water. Several chinstrap penguins amble nearby and Mariano, our Zodiac driver, cheery chatter warms us all. There is good spirit in our party. Back on board we prepare for our departure. Outside the wind begins to whirl like ratchets.

TAKING FLIGHT WITH J-MACK:

Ice Axe guideJason Mack has stuck a lot of huge landings in his notable skiing career, but nothing compared to landing on the deck of the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise a year ago this past December. The Points North Heli-Guide took a three-day excursion aboard the famous navy vessel, voyaging from Jacksonville, Florida to its station in Norfolk, Virginia.

“The brother of my wife Mora is a Lieutenant deployed on the ship,” says Jason who traveled with his father in law and Mora’s other brother, another naval officer. “Each year on what they call the ‘Tiger Cruise’ sailors on board are allowed to invite friends and relatives for a three day cruise.”

The USS Enterprise is the world’s first nuclear powered aircraft carrier. At 1,123 feet she is the longest naval vessel in the world. The battleship displaces 93, 500 tons and has a ship’s company of 5,000 men. Propelled by eight nuclear reactors her speed exceeds 30 knots. Nicknamed the “Big E” she can carry 90 aircraft.

While aboard, J-Mack bunked in the officer’s ward and was led on a grand tour that included being on deck for a up close view of jets landing only 60 feet away. He was also treated to a display of the ship’s weaponry

“My brother-in-law had a lot of bridge duty so I got to hang out with him. I even got to steer,” says Jason who was bummed he wasn’t allowed to shoot off a Zuni missile.

THE ICE AXE S.A.T

Q. This tiny Himalayan kingdom puts Donald Duck on its postage stamps, maintains the world’s only wildlife refuge for the abominable snowman, measures its worth in Gross National Happiness and has a king who regularly takes time out from the affairs of state to challenge his subjects to pickup basketball games. Name this kingdom.

A.Bhutan

WAY OF THE WHIT CLOUDS

5 Questions With John Griber

When man mixes with mountains interesting things happen and thoughts about nature, religion, and the human mind, body and spirit abound. George Mallory’s irritated snap “because it’s there” is the most often quoted and perhaps most vacuous reason for why the best and bravest climb mountain peaks. Climbers certainly recognize a wide range of motives. For Jackson Hole native John Griber, climbing has been much more than a sport, but a lifeblood, a fine balance that has enabled him to pursue his dreams. The internationally recognized climber and snowboarder has traveled around the world in search of adventure. For 13 years he has been an ambassador for the North Face. His expeditions have taken him multiple times to the Himalayas, South America, Greenland, Africa, India and Pakistan, and topped out on Everest twice. His climbing exploits have segued into a promising documentary film career working for filmmaking Mike Brown and participating behind the camera for two upcoming Eddie Bauer films including one on the life of Alex Lowe.

ON ANTARCTICA

The Mountains look very similar to those in Nepal. In each case, it’s sometimes hard to tell the scale. However, all the animal life remains me a bit of Yellowstone. The wildlife doesn’t mind mixing with you at all. Overall, like most adventures, it’s the journey that is integral to this trip. I’ll remember the people and bits and pieces of travelling to this incredible continent.

ON THE WOOING OF EXTREMISM

If people are doing things cutting edge, to push their limits to balance their own life, I believe it to be a beautiful part of the human spirit and I heartily applaud. But to attempt these types of things because of other people’s expectations, strictly to get others wound up by doing crazy things, I think you’ve pretty much sucked the juice, the core element out of what’s in your heart and head. There’s the adage that the best judge of a person’s character is what they do when no one’s watching.

ON THE FEAR FACTOR

Fear is probably the alpinist’s greatest ally because it causes you to make important decisions. I call my fear factor “confident uncertainty.” I know it’s a contradiction of terms, but for me it is the perfect balance. One needs to be confident in any undertaking, but the fear of committing to something that might go south, even become a death situation, is what draws you. I like the situation uncertain enough to challenge and push me. I do not go climbing with the idea of a determined outcome. It¹s more to breathe deep and get moving.

ON HIS FAVORITE MUSIC

I listen to whatever fits my current mood. I enjoy Norah Jones and Ben Harper. Sometimes get a lyric and can¹t shake it like Cat Stevens “Miles From Nowhere,” or Ben Harper,” Don¹t need eyes to see.”

ON CLIMBING EVEREST

It’s incredibly hard work. It takes two months to climb it 70 days from home. One really has to lay it on the line, yet it’s the Sherpas who make it possible. Climbing Everest can be very emotional. It’s easy to be touched by its features. My first ascent was most memorable. It was crystal clear and blue. I called my 6-year-old son from the top at around 7 in the morning. Life made a lot of sense for attempting such a radical thing.

FACTS ABOUT EVEREST

Since 1953, more than 1,200 people have reached the summit of Everest. Here are a few other interesting facts about Earth’s sacred rooftop, known by Tibetans as “Goddess Mother” or “Chomolungma” and Nepalese as “Goddess of the Sky” or “Sagarmatha.”

- 10,000 people have attempted a summit climb in the last 50 years.

- 175 people have died on the mountain.

- 120 corpses still remain on Everest

- 1,700 summits have been made. James Whittaker was the first American on top in May of 1963.

- Of the 1,200 people to successfully climb Everest fewer than 100 have done so without supplemental oxygen.

- Reinhold Messner completed the first solo attempt in August of 1980.

- Yuichiro Miura of Japan, is the oldest person at age 70 to summit in May of 2003.

- Japan’s Junko Tabei, is the first woman to reach the summit.

- Temba Tseri Sherpa, 15, became the youngest in May of 2001.

- Everest is twice as tall as the Matterhorn

- Everest was named for Sir George Everest, Surveyor General of India during the 1860s.

- It is estimated there is 10 tons of garbage left on Everest.

Over 24 teams attempted the summit this past spring with more than 137 reaching the summit.

It hit me about the 14th bite of my spinach and cheese strudel. During the Ice Axe Antarctica 09 Expedition, many wondered why its international guides, made up of 18 of the planet’s most notable skiers, snowboarders and mountaineers, appeared so sluggish on the mountain. Why couldn’t we get to the really distant reaches up forbidden and icy peaks? How come we weren’t climbing that well? Why did we look, sound and play so tired? After all, these guys have been to the top of Everest, Denali, and the North Pole.

Now I know. Our guides eat too much.

Call them the Clipper Adventurer Eating Team or Probe Pole Cordon Bleu. Come and get them. Soup’s on and on and on, with the Ice Axe Expeditions Guide Team. I know because I traveled with them by ship during their trip to the Antarctic Peninsula.

Before we get to the appetizers, remember that Ice Axe Expeditions bill journalists for their meals. Don’t get the idea that objectivity is bought with steak and lobster. It’s just that everyone is served the same moveable feast: A4 ice screw specialists and hungry writers alike.

Take it from a 220-pounder like myself ­ our Ice Axe veteran mountain men are served enough on the road to feed a colony of leopard seals for a week.

Soon after our ship departed from Tierra Del Fuego, of course, everyone was served dinner – a cruise ship buffet stretching from here to Vinson Massif. Naturally, Dave Marchi, Dan Starr and Jason Mack saved room for midnight snacks: a dozen or so chocolate chip cookies, dulce de leche and pounds of Tiramisu. Then it¹s up for a breakfast that would have lasted all winter on Shackleton’s shipwrecked Fram. Each guide ate six fried eggs, a great mass of potatoes and a steak no bigger than a serac. By the time that was chewed and had been washed down to the belly with a couple quarts of hazelnut-chocolate cappuccino, griddle cakes arrived, ten or twelve surmounted by a hunk of butter as big as an iceberg and dripping with melting cornices of chocolate.

Ice Axe guides needed Kip Garr, CJ Warre and John Griber, all right, not for tuning skis, but to help let out everyone¹s tight pants before a forced march to the summit.

Our Ice Axe Guides don’t crampon off into the wild blue yonder as much as go for more Chinese. Call Director Doug Stoup anything but chicken, he might barbecue you. Liz Taylor should have been on the team. Team doctors found out Tucker Patton’s blood type was Ragu.

These guides don’t ascend well because their food has just digested. Then, by all means, it’s on to the ship¹s training table and a late lunch.

As you sit down, there are coolers full of soft drinks and beer. Begin with a Shepherd’s Pie, which requires a 300-pound bench press to hoist. Then served were spaghetti, manicotti, conchiglle al dente, vegetable curry and enough baguette to choke Paul Prudhomme.

Next was a platter of Southern Ocean fish, then a huge Sicilian roast beef quickly reduced to the bone; a mountain of Argentine potatoes, a swamp of Santa Cruz green beans, black-eyed peas and steamed polenta; Then, not just one pack of Buenos Aires chocolate confections, but two packs. And if that wasn’t enough to hold over our guys such as Ben Mitchell, John Metschnig, Hans Salzman and marine biologist Allan Marshall, crème brulee swimming in cream, and figs the size of Mount Francis.

And this only begins a mountain retreat for dinner: Minestrone that has so much bread broken into it that it was more solid than liquid; half a lamb Asado; potato halves filed with cheese sauce, cauliflower in cheese sauce, Alka-Seltzer in cheese sauce. I kept seeing Ice Axe guides in a funhouse mirror. Kevin Quinn, the lead guide, was too busy eating to be interviewed.

I couldn’t stomach another bite. The waiter asked how about some strawberry swirl cheesecake?” I said, “Sure!”

He brought not one, but three pieces! And I devoured them! I felt like all of us were in an Alpo commercial. This Ice Axe team has its cake and eats two.

Sailing back to Ushuaia, we crept into the Beagle Channel, probably because we each had gained ten pounds. Growing restless, our guides waged a food fight such that the captain announced we would heave to if it weren’t stopped. That’s when I spied one last snack pack that had rolled under a seat. Tal Fletcher and Glen Poulsen were fighting over it.

And we wonder why our Ice Axe guides didn’t have the lean, hungry look on route? Although in between meals they led expedition members safely to the most beautiful scenery within the most unimaginable trip of a lifetime, I’m telling you, we feed them too much. At this rate, the only time they’ll ever use their bivy sack is if it’s full of chili.

NOTE: This dispatch was inspired by the delicious offerings of Clipper Adventurer Head Chef Zaldy and staff. No guides died from overeating in the writing of this story.

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in where Nature may heal and cheer and give strength to body and soul alike.”

– John Muir

[Escura Inlet, Admiralty Bay, King George Island ­ 62. Degrees 09 South/58degrees 32.6 West]

I ascend Escura Inlet’s steep hills. It doesn’t take long before amagnificent view of King George Island blooms between two ridges. I marvel at the perfection in contrasts: burnt umber cliffs, outcroppings of lichen-colored rock, and a broad sweep that leads to the delft blue of Admiralty Bay. The brilliant water reflects the deep color of the sky, slicing into the white of surrounding snowfields. The Southern Ocean seems to wear a different shade of blue each time I see it ­ azure to the slate gray and emerald green that often presages a winter storm. In the early light of morning, Antarctica glitters with excitement, while late afternoon deepens the milk of magnesia hills into a calm expanse. With each day, each hour, Antarctica changes, and so do I.

But Admiralty Bay is far more than a beautiful place to experience restorative solitude or marvel at kaleidoscopic displays of color. Antarctica just isn¹t about the high reaches – it¹s a beacon for a type of tribalism seldom seen at any other extreme expedition.

Over 35 Squaw Valley and North Shore residents are aboard the Clipper Adventurer: From well-known professional guides Ben Mitchell, Tal Fletcher, Jason Mack, Tom Waclo, Glen Poulsen, Kevin and Jessica Quinn, CJ Warre and Ming Poon; SV ski coaches Dick Banfield, Scott Flint and Jeff Lampert; videographers Tom Day and Liz Rodgers and team photographer Keoki Flagg; and Warren Miller Production ski talent Kip Garr and John Morrison.

Then there’s Squaw Valley Institute board members Russell Poulsen and John Wilcox (proudly announcing himself as oldest member of this voyage); Snowboard high priest (on film assignment) Jeremy Jones; Squaw Valley residents Reb and Nancy Forte and Barbara and Fred Ilfeld and Tahoe Forest Hospital nurse Kathleen Cohen; legendary mono-board skier Lee Dube and famed Squaw Valley rippers Meaghan Wheeler, Jean-Marc Landau and Adrian Benson. And finally, of course, there are the untamed www.unofficialsquaw.com boys ­ Ralph Backstrom, Greg Martin, and Mattias Sullivan, Patrick Ribelli and Tim Konrad.

Sometimes it feels like a shipboard college campus reunion watching Banfield making gnarr turns on a 46 degree pitch, or Keoki and Tom Day with all their cameras and ever smiling Scott Flint making jokes and all the guides walking around with their pickets and ice screws as out of a National Geographic page.

And then of course there is leader Doug Stoup ­ larger than life ­ putting out fires, corralling egos, encouraging folks to pursue their dreams and cranking some righteous turns himself way up high on steep distant ridgelines. It was Stoup and his assistant Karen Stanley (another North Shoe resident) that put this thing together and in the process created a Squaw Valley alumni party. It makes you proud to be back in the saddle and a Squaw Valleyite and I¹m not just talking about the beer drinking and backslapping after dinner.

Admiralty Bay, aside from massive snowfields, is also home to the biggest collection of scientific stations in Antarctica, including the Polish scientific research station the Arctowski.

The low gravel shores in front of the station are home to lounging fur and elephant seals. Adele, gentoo and chinstrap penguins all frequent the beach because they nest in abundance in the colonies on the nearby surrounding hills.

The beach is great for discovering whale bones and other remains such as skulls, ribs and jawwbones.

The station is named in honor of Henryk Arctowski, the geologist on Adrein de Gerlache’s Begica expedition of 1897-99.

Here, we met Anna, a marine biologist from the Polish Academy of Sciences. In her seventh year of research and work at the Polish Station our interview went kind of like this:

TT: Do you ever miss the food from your homeland?

ANNA: I love “Dogas,” a special Polish recipe that includes sauerkraut, sausage and mushrooms. When we buy supplies during the summer season from the cruise ships I can usually find all the ingredients to make some.

TT: Do penguins or any of the other species ever become possessive or familiar with you after time the way a dog or cat would?

ANNA: Penguins have no idea about your personality. They are very distant in that regard. Life in a penguin colony is noisy and dirty, with adults calling and displaying to one another, chicks squeaking as they beg for food and the birds commuting from sea to nest with meals while the other guards the nest. They really have no time for you. Some of the birds will gather around you, like sheathbills, but mainly because they are not afraid of you.

TT: Do you ever get lonely or beat down by the Antarctic weather?

ANNA: There are huge blizzards and winds that gather over 260 kilometers, but you never feel in danger. With the Internet you can contact friends and family. It’s no longer as in long past where the only communication was by radio.

TT: Have you ever watched any of those horror movies that take place at a station in Antarctica like “The Thing” where self-absorbed personality challenged scientists wake up some creature in a crevasse from 50,000 years of sleep who becomes really teed off and starts eating everybody?

ANNA: I have never seen such a thing. After all I’m pretty busy at our station studying Starfish and such, but it sounds good. We should rent that film.

The ICE AXE S.A.T:

Q. Name two countries where you can throw a snowballa cross the equator.

A. Kenya, where the equator passes over the shoulder of 17,057-foot Mount Kenya, and Ecuador, where it bisects 18,996-foot Cayambe.

THE ICE AXE PROFILE
5 Questions with John Wilcox

John Wilcox first took to the slopes at the ripe age of 30. His first day at Alpine Meadows he broke his ankle. “Fortunately, I’d had a few runs, enoughto get me hooked before the injury,” John admits.

Forty-three years later, the Squaw Valley, California resident is Ice Axe Expeditions oldest team member in Antarctica. A former Stanford grad and successful businessman from Palo Alto, John is far from retired. He presides as President of the Board of the Squaw Valley Institute, serves as Director of the Squaw Valley Service District and is a board member for the Squaw Valley Museum Foundation. When not skiing the peaks of the white continent John enjoys his time with his two loves ­ wife Barbara and faithful companion Australian Shepherd Lexi.

On Aging and Skiing
As you age you sometimes worry about not being able to do some of the things you’ve enjoyed doing in the past. Luckily, at my age, I haven’t slowed down all that much, but I know one day down the road I may not be attempting what I can accomplish at this stage. When that happens I’ll have to start going out into the backcountry with a different group of friends who are all much younger than me at present.

On His Favorite Ski Line
It has to be the north side of Lassen Peak in what is called the “Devastated Area.” It’s a long steep pitch, around a 2,000-foot descent. A couple of years ago in May I had a particularly wonderful bluebird day. The snow wasn’t quite corn, but more like little crystals that made a crunching sound under foot. It was beautiful snow.

On His Favorite Beatles Music
I love the Beatles, but I listen mostly jazz. Give me the Modern Jazz Quartet, Oscar Peterson, Ella and Duke anytime.

On Living In Squaw Valley
What makes Squaw Valley such a great place to live isn’t just about its mountains and skiing. The community is made up of a variety of people. Back in the city we hung out basically with people of similar age, wealth and education. Squaw Valley is a hodge podge of different backgrounds and age,wealth and experience where everyone nevertheless is still equal. And what characters!

On Going to Antarctica
What grabbed my attention more than anything was all the great people who came along. It was an incredible see and ski adventure, but it was the camaraderie and team members that made it exceptional.

I’ve asked notable Ice Axe adventurers and other ski industry notables if fatherhood has affected their outlook towards the heightened, but dangerous experiences found on mountain peaks.

Doug Stoup, 46 – (8 times to both the geographic North and South Poles): Having children makes it harder to leave home, but I wouldn’t be the person I am if I didn’t do these adventures. I’m away from home much of the time, but I stay in touch with my family on a regular basis. I talk with my boys all the time. And I hope to bring my boys with me in he future.

Tom Day, 48 – (Warren Miller Productions): There is no doubt that your children weigh heavy on the back of your mind when it comes to making decisions that have life threatening consequences. Right from the get go a deep love is formed between you and your offspring. Nothing makes you happier then to see them smile. And you just want to see all those smiles they have to give. Of course you want to be there to help guide them in their path. I certainly feel I have thought harder on my decisions of doing this and that, knowing that I want to be with my children. It’s a fine line between what I think are good decisions and what other people think. And there are times that I bend my own boundaries!

Jason Mack, 38 – (Points North heli-guide): Having my little boy Declan made me want to continue the things I do. I didn’t want to ever be in the position that said “Daddy used to do this and that until I came along.” I want to stay true to my love of doing these things where my son could be proud of my accomplishment and I can pass on my influences.

John Griber, 43 – ( 2 times atop Everest, cinematographer, Ambassador for North Face): I love my wife Becca and my son Nevin very much. By this point in my career the time I spend away from home is quality time in the mountains and also a way to provide for my family. I’m concerned about missing times with Nevin and as a result I’m becoming more reserved, but that could be an age thing, too. More than anything, he’s my buddy and I know he’s proud of me.

Jeremy Jones, 38 – (World class snowboarder): Being married and having two children I value my life more than ever. I want to come home. I can’t turn my back on the mountains. It has a hook in me and is a portal into my spiritual world that makes me who I am. Now, when I go into the mountains my kids are with me with ever decision, yet I know everytime you sep into the backcountry you are at risk. You can’t look at my life and say don’t worry.

Andrew McClean, 48 – (over 100 backcountry first descents); H aving kids is very grounding, it makes it much easier to back off things now. However, being in the backcountry is still the juice for me. I’m lucky, too, because my wife Polly knows who I am and my make up. When ever I leave home her last words to me are still, “Have fun.

John Morrison, 38 – (Lord of The Boards Champion, Warren Miller ski talent): My 2 year old daughter,Dakota, keeps me in check – she’s the first thing that comes to mind every time I go climbing and skiing. This past spring I was caught in a slide on Denali. The first thing that came into my mind was her face. I’m away from my home 75 days out of the year. Everytime I leave, the last thing my wife, Christy, reminds me of our number one rule – “Come back.”

Robb Gaffney (author of Squallywood): In all honesty there is a “let down” from not being able or willing to push the risk up to that old level. I have to consciously move from a place of “immediate gratification” of the past to a place of “delayed gratification” and sustainability. And one thing that really helps is having friends still going strong in higher risk sports and being able to live vicariously through their exploits.

Scott Gaffney (filmmaker): The most significant changes are the sudden decrease in personal playtime and the increased desire to be home, seeing my son go through all of his changes. In the past, my work would have me travelling all over for up to a month straight. Now, no matter where I go, I don’t want to be away for any more than two to two and a half weeks at a time. Sage learns new words practically everyday and goes through so many changes. I won’t see those changes in person ever again, so I want to be home as much as possible.

Aside from that, I know what I do is dangerous, and for the first time, I know I have to get some life insurance dialed in.

Jim Zellers (Adventurer/ extreme snowboarder): “I still can’t quit the search for those heightened pleasures, but the objectives have changed. They are not as frequent, they’re a little bit more planned out, and I scope things a little more thoroughly these days. Bottom line is that my kids really don’t care whether I drop some “line” or “peak”, they are like all other kids – they just want their parents home every night. That plays into just about every decision I make. I may not always make the right decision, but it plays in all the same.

Daron Rahlves (Professional skiercross): I know that I’m responsible for two new lives on this earth and raising them wit my wife Michelle. I think about them all the time. I love having them around. Competing in Ski cross is not the safest way to bring food to the table, but it helps bring food to the table and I love it.

Eric Deslauriers (Author, filmmaker): When the kids first arrived, I felt oddly vulnerable for about two years. Then, as the kids got bigger I felt more comfortable with risk. I have made a couple of financial/professional decisions based around my kids and my desire to be with them. The kids are young only once and I want to be with them as much as I can.

Craig Calonica (Heli-ski operator): On the first year of my daughter’s entry I climbed two routes on El Cap. I also climbed and skied McKinley and Kilimanjaro during this time. As a matter of fact I summited Kilimanjaro on her first b-day. I called her from the summit to wish her happy b-day and then skied down which at the time had only been done once before. On her third b-day I opened up Nepal to Heliskiing and have continued to open up new areas every year to skiing since. I guess you can say it really hasn’t slowed me down much. However, everything I’ve done in my life I’ve been fully capable of safely doing. I plan to keep it that way, especially having my daughter in my life.

“You cannot be a good mountaineer, however great your ability, unless you are cheerful and have the spirit of comradeship. Friends are as important as achievement. Another is that teamwork is the one key to success and that selfishness only makes a man small. Still another is that no man, on a mountain or elsewhere, gets more out of anything than he puts into it.”

Tenzing Norgay

[South Shetland Islands, Antarctic Peninsula] The day smells clean and sharp, snow dusts your face and massages the senses with cold sensual fingers. Plummeting down fresh slopes of Antarctica’s Snow Island you carve back and forth through lightly tufted snow that curls mid-calf. All your attention is focused on sustaining the pulse, sustaining the rhythm; the motion and flow until the waltz down carpeted slopes become all a blur.

Overnight the South Shetlands had received 4 to 6 inches of dreamy dry snow, the type that blows off the windshield and floats in the air like Michael Jordan.

Even with clear skies and rocketing sunlight, new fallen stayed windswept and clean. Slopes looked like football fields of sparkling diamonds. Ice Axe guided groups of skiers and snowboarders ripped over ego boosting conditions with smiles as fixed and large you have thought them on acid.

I didn’t really blame them. It was pretty good, okay; it actually was really good. Who couldn’t go for an endless buffet of untracked where there is no hurry, nobody else to poach tracks – just you and endless fields of fluff?

On a great powder day you fall almost perfectly in sync with the snow and the world around. It’s as if nature lets you in through some secret seam as you slip through wind drift, between padded trees, over rocks and drops, and through a mix of air and snow and timber that is all a part of you. And the better it gets the more you simply cease to exist, until finally there is only the mountain and the snow and a soul and spirit. Such is life when skiing in Antarctica.

The night before the Clipper Adventurer had dropped anchor past Hannah Point in the Livingston Island sound. The second largest of the South Shetland Islands, the land is dominated by an icy interior with peaks over 6,000 feet.

The next morning film teams and 16 guide ski groups departed for shore early in the morning. They each would return in the afternoon, faces fresh and alighted. With light lasting until midnight, several groups returned later in the evening, just in time to catch the remnants of the barbecue be hosted by ship’s company on the back deck. Some groups such as John Griber’s and Glen Poulsen’s groups scaled wind stricken couloirs and jumped into tight rock infested seracs arcing high above serene and calm water setting of peppered coastline and penguin infested landings. Other groups, such as Kevin Quinns, skinned tracks to lower angle-mounded snowfields as wide and longer than football field. The Warren Miller film crew, made up of Keoki Flagg, Andrew McClean, Kip Garr, Tom Day and Doug Stoup hiked and ice climbed treacherous shark peaks and ice falls with 50% gradients.

“From the top you could spot other Ice Axe groups topping out on adjacent peaks or skiing huge snowfields,’ explained staff photographer Keoko Flagg

Powder days, whether in your backyard resort or at the end of the earth, are a swooping signature of skiers and boarders presence and egos. Most of us like to see our tracks in virgin snow. But, as purists would agree, the best powder run are the ones that never leave a mark – where your line seeks abstraction, fills in and marries with the mountain. It may be that sense of purity, as much as anything, that brings us, called and crazy, to a powder day at one of most remote ski areas on the planet.

THE ICE AXE S.A.T: Q. How did the French resort Chamonix get its name? A. No other of the Worlds Mountains has a name of such beauty, clarity, and rigorous precision as Mont Blanc above Chamonix. From 1940 to 1945 this small valley in eastern France was held by Germany, not France, and in 1944 its glaciers were a bloody battleground between the Germans and the French resistance. It then lived up to its original Roman name, Campus Munitus, an armed camp, which became Camp Munit in French and Chamonix in Savoyard.

The Mighty Quinn

FIVE QUESTIONS WITH ICE AXE HEAD GUIDE KEVIN QUINN

Alaska is known for its wealth of minerals, oil, fisheries, and hunting. For Squaw Valley’s Kevin Quinn, its wealth lies in helicopter skiing. The 40-year-old former professional hockey player and professional extreme skier along with his wife Jessica are the owner and operator of Points North Heli-Adventures Inc. In its 12th year the heli-ski outfit has become so popular Quinn sells out a year ahead of scheduled flights.” We’re situated in Cordova, 65 miles southeast of Valdez in the southeast corner of Prince William Sound,” says Quinn, whose family has lived in Alaska since the 1940s. Historical Cordova, site of the world’s largest salmon run, lies on the Copper River Delta, a flyway for wind that blows bad weather out and spectacular weather in. Cordova averages 600 inches of snowfall annually. Quinn employs four helicopters, several fixed wing aircraft, snowcats, and expert guides to fly and land onto the pristine slopes for five thousand foot first descents and breathtaking vistas of the Chugach and Wrangell mountains. The season runs from March 1 to May 15. “Heli-skiing is like a religious experience. You’ll never look at the mountains in the same way ever again,” says Quinn, who caters to skiers and boarders of all abilities and affluence. “Our goal is to provide each guest not only a great experience, but an Alaskan experience which is like no other in the world.”

ON SKIING POWDER

You have to relax. So many people get spooked in new snow. Instead, they should get comfortable. Skiing powder is like working a Pogo stick; pick up both feet and place them in the direction you’re going.

ON ICE AXE VERSUS POINTS NORTH

We need to start the chocolate mint on the pillow while turning down the bed at night thingy at Points North if we’re going to compete.

ON HIS FAVORITE LINE

I have five favorites that are called the Five Gems of The Chugach. Their names are Sphinx, Pontoon, Meteorite, Detention Center and Ocean View. They are each really big, incredibly beautiful and just pleasing.

ON HIS FAVORITE BEATLES SONG

That’s easy – “Live and Let Die.”

ON HIS GUIDING PHILOSOPHY

I want each guest to exceed his or her limits and take on a new challenge while still smiling. It’s all about their day and experience. The better time they have the more I get excited.

NEW SCHOOL DICTIONARY
To help with this Ice Axe Expedition Ski Cruise 2009 glossary we recruited Dr. Robb Gaffney, author of “Squally wood,” a guide to Squaw Valley’s most exposed ski runs.

-Pin wheeling: Doing a 360 in the air
-Freakhucker: A person who goes big, as in way big, off cliffs.
- Goggle Tanning: A distinct mousy-eyed appearance created by sunburning or tanning the area not covered by goggles. Often seen on the Spring Break vacationer when buying beer at the grocery store after a hot sunny day on the slopes.
- Launching: Attempting to achieve the maximum airtime possible by skiing off a cliff, rollover, or upturned terrain feature.
-Burly: So scary that it could remind you of a big hairy beast. Ominous and capable of instilling a deep sense of fear.
-Rowdy: Similar to Burly but on a lighter note. This could be the “sport” version of ——-Burly. Scary, but energizing and exciting.
-Sick: Umbrella term. Skiing that is exceptionally pleasurable, burly, or rowdy. A beautiful powder field could be “sick” as well as a very steep dangerous rocky run.
-Hip-check: Landing with the hip stuck out, with the intent that upon landing it will hit the snow and slow the skier down.
-Cratering: Landing in soft, deep snow on a relatively flat slope and creating a bathtub sized pit.
-Altoid: Going Altoid is when one makes the moves on a babe, as in need to chew on some Altoid mints for the breath.
-Rope air: An act of deviance characterized by knowingly jumping a boundary rope set up by ski patrol.
-Gap Jump: A jump where between the take-off and landing there is a large drop in the terrain.
-Gnarr Gnarr: The sickest, rowdiest, burliest terrain available to ski.
-Core: A bit of a traditionalist local term for one who dedicates himself to skiing no matter what the circumstances – only working at night, inadequate clothing, bad weather, wife is angry that he is gone so much, etc.
-Phat: Another umbrella term that is synonymous with “sick”. It may simply be a newer version of “sick”. Its connotation may be a bit more in the realm of “large”, or “deep”.
-New Schoolers: Any skier or boarder who gives you a true perspective on your age. They are now those who ride rails, hit the pipe, and go upside down more times than you can count in one run.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

[Cerva Harbor – Antarctic Peninsula]

The walls are singing. Small twangs and moans interrupt the early afternoon light and pulse up from the brash ice and bergy bits of Cerva Harbor to the rimrock of sharp peaks above. The sculpted mountain architecture bursts upon the landscape with startling suddenness. New snow glistening into the vast reaches form a visual quilt that sparkles and gives life to Spartan winter scenery.

My heart swells like a giant diamond in a field of coal.

I’ve just skied on the Antarctic continent.

That early morning I’d watched landfall from the ship’s bridge as we made way against a freshening 30-knot wind and rising sea. Crossing the Drake Channel hadn’t been the drastic Cape Horn donnybrook expected, but it had still felt at times like a roller coaster into darkness and a kind of stagecoach ride over rough road. People were ready to disembark and get off this tug. Now, ice rimmed coastline consumed the horizon – smiling, silent, grand, mean, insipid and savage – all with an air of whispering: Come and find out.

Eventually, the beating wind would make our expedition change course: from a planned early morning tour and ski in Nicholson Bay on Trinity Island to Cerva Harbor south and onto the actual Antarctic continent.

It wasn’t until midday that the Clipper Adventurer anchored and sent head guide Kevin Quinn and Ice Axe leader Doug Stoup on a scouting mission ashore. They returned 30 minutes later to say,” It looks insane.”

The sun was fierce. The land glistened and dripped with white. The day billowed serene and exquisite in an immensity of unstained life. It was too cool. It was a kingdom of cool. It was better than first chair on KT. People on deck looked in awe and murmured “yes.” It was so otherworldly it was as if our ship had wandered through a window into a prehistoric earth that wore the aspect of an unknown planet

Indeed, it was astonishing. Skiers and boarders, all 60 of them divided into small ski groups commanded by a guide, were taxied in by Zodiac craft. Once ashore the landscape took on greater significance, not one of hesitation but of pause. It was a reminder of what Ansel Adams said, during the 1930s, with his young bride Virginia Best, after visiting snowbound Glacier Point that it was,” a world of surpassing beauty, so perfect and intense that we cannot imagine the return to modern life and the fading crystalline splendor encompassing our gaze.”

Hours later, high above the bay, after a good bit of skinning directly up to ridgelines that seemed to touch the cobalt sky, Ice Axe team members smiled and danced while clicking into their Randonee bindings for the downhill run.

And there, harvesting this mad capped scene, on the edge of this colossal escapade, was Ice Axe commander-in-chief Doug Stoup. Many critics never thought he could do it, bring to the end of the world this collection of significant personalities and notable skiers past and present, each who have fostered a characteristic tone and expression in their adventures: yet here they all were.

Forget Antarctica for a second: if anyone’s gravitational movement downhill pressured obstructions and changed the landscape it’s Stoup – much more than any ice sheet. He stood silently upon the ridge like a stone lion on the steps of some huge campus library taking it all in. Call it passionate persistence, talk about big dreams and big mountains on the loneliest margins of the world, but Stoup had pulled it off. Later on at dinner, after everybody had gotten their fresh turns and returned safely to the ship he was overheard at his table chuckling to surrounding friends,” Not bad, not bad at all.”

THE ICE AXE S.A.T: Q. What are the heights of the seven continents’ tallest peaks? A. Everest (Asia) – 29,035 feet; Aconcagua (South America) – 22,834; Mount McKinley (North America) – 20,321; Mount Kilimanjaro (Africa) – 19,563; Mount Elbrus (Europe) – 18,481; Carstensz Pyramid (Australsia/Oceania) – 16,502; Vinson Massif (Antarctica) – 16,066 feet.

IF YOU THOUGHT SQUAW VALLEY’S MOUNTAIN RUN GETS CROWDED:

Starting next year, the National Park Service will cap the number of climbers allowed on Alaska’s Mount McKinley at 1,500 a year. Since 1903, 30,049 climbers have attempted McKinley, known also as Denali, or “high one,” Just over half have reached the summit. Ninety-five have died trying, including a record 11 in 1992. Climbers spend typically 14 to 18 days on the mountain during a brief two-month period in May and June. “It’s amazing how the mountain has gotten busier,” says park ranger and former Squaw Valley resident Daryl Miller. “It’s gotten so bad we might have to start hauling off human waste that’s beginning to overflow the pit toilet on Kahilna Glacier.” Ice Axe guides Kip Garr and Glen Poulsen, who summited the peak this past spring, reported that during the course of their ascent nothing was wasted.

UP ON THE ROOF

Five Questions With Dave Marchi

Although there are 69 mountains over the 14,000-foot mark in the United States, Mt. Shasta is the most massive of all the mountains boasting 100 cubic miles of mass. Various routes on the Shasta-Trinity Forest Wilderness peak can hold carveable snow well into summer. The conventional route – up Avalanche Gulch – typically is skiable into June; the northern routes can be skied into July. According to the Guinness Book of World Records, Mt. Shasta received the most snowfall ever in a single snowstorm: 189 inches from February 13 to 19, 1959. The youngest person to successfully climb the dormant volcano was a 5-year-old girl in the 1960s.

For Ice Axe guide Dave Marchi, Mount Shasta has not just been a beacon and testing ground, it’s also been his home.

Marchi, 33, was born in Shasta. A veteran mountaineer and backcountry skier, Marchi has climbed the Northern California dormant volcano over 200 times. Its training terrain has lead him to successfully topping out on Nepal’s Ama Dablam, Denali, Aconcaqua (twice in one year), and opening up a ski area in Kasmir, India.

ON THE LINE THAT GOT AWAY

I’ve really wanted to climb and ski the Garwhal Wall in western India. I thought I had it dialed, but then the permits were tripled in cost. I just didn’t have the money as I’m funded only by myself. It’s in a remote area and would be one of the greatest places to ski.

ON HIS FAVORITE LINE ON SHASTA

It has to be the Hotlum Wintun Ridge. It’s one of the longest ski descents in California, over 7,000 feet, and, since it’s east facing, holds good snow.

ON HIS FAVORITE BEATLES SONG

I love the Beatles like everyone else, but I like to listen to Martin Sexton, John Butler and Alison Krauss. I try to bring their kind of energy to my skiing.

ON HIS FAVORITE MOMENTS

It’s the individual moments that I try to recall – like first light on Shasta. I’m really close to that mountain. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed in my life.

ON THE NATURE OF GUIDING

I like to quote this one passage from “Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.” It’s about how the sides of a mountain are what sustain life, not the top. I really try to focus on people enjoying their ascent, of having them enjoy their experience to the top.

“O let my keel burst! Let me go to the sea.”

- Arthur Rimbaud

The sea continued to run high, south/southwest, and with swift yawning, opened a vial of wrath that forced our ship the Clipper Adventurer to lurch heavily in the deep rollers of the Southern Ocean.

By dinner, glimpses of the sun peeled away into a diminished diameter. An expiring brown, ray less glow had brought the day near its end by welding sea and sky together. From the bridge of the Clipper Adventurer a dense bank of cloud became visible to the southward; it had a sinister dark olive tint. It lay low motionless upon the sea, resembling a solid obstacle in the path of the ship. The ship’s bow went steaming towards it like an exhausted creature driving to its fate. The coppery twilight retired slowly and darkness hung nearer the earth.

Many of our expedition crew had been looted by the swells. Their sea sickness and queasiness had killed most of their day’s pleasure reinforcing what one of my captains from sail deliveries past told me about big water: “What can you expect hammering through such water – Bound to leave something behind. Just stands to reason.”

Well, in this case if our loss was measured in barf by a few unlucky passengers we were doing okay because the Drake Passage is known as one of the world’s roughest bodies of water and is infamous for its swells, blasting winds and icy waters. The Passage is the narrowest portion of the easterly flowing Antarctic Circumpolar Current that mixes warmer sub arctic to the north and the colder Antarctic waters from the south. Its mix is not always as smooth as single malt over a few rocks. Nevertheless, its uncomfortable crossing is a rite of passage for those seeking the treasures of the white continent.

And for that matter it’s not like we were scurrying about this Sagamatha of sea in some rusty bucket.

The Ice Class A-1 classified Clipper Adventurer, registered out of the Bahamas, is a 25-year old 100-meter ship reconditioned and retrofitted only a few years ago specifically for Southern Ocean cruising. With a 17 meter beam and 500 HP bow thrusters complemented by dual controllable pitch propellers, the ship handles well with the support of 2 Man B&W diesel propulsion engines rated approximately 2,640 SHP each. With an experienced crew of 72 working her she can make 12 knots in open water.

“I know she is capable as I’m the one who made all the conversions in her,” explains Captain Kenth Grankvist. The Swedish skipper who has made over 50 voyages to Antarctica began his career at sea as a mess boy at age 16. He worked his way up the ladder from deck hand to officer before captaining his first ship in 1989.

He’s spent 20 years in the Arctic on ships and has captained vessels up the Amazon, the Congo and Northwest Passage.

“Although we have computerized equipment and state of the art systems, captaining a ship is still very much a hands on approach, reveals the Captain who has weathered hurricanes and more than a dose of heavy weather. “I like open bridge wings where you can go outside and feel the wind and closely study the ocean.”

Captain Gunnar Roos also has an exceptional pedigree having worked icebreakers for the Royal Swedish Navy and captained tankers worldwide and the North Sea.

“As a youth I kayaked and discovered the only way to see the world was to go to sea,” says Captain Roos who spent many years piloting ships through the northern Sea of Bottnia.

Captain Roos takes over for Grankvist for the Clipper Adventurer’s next voyage. Having never captained a ship to the Antarctic it was necessary to bring along Captain Grankvist in accordance with the Antarctic Treaty. Signed on December 1, 1959, the treaty now has 46 countries in its accordance and has become a key role in protecting Antarctica and its wildlife.

When asked how to avoid trouble such as the kind the sank and grounded three cruise ships the last few years in the Southern Ocean, Captain Grankvist’s striking blue eyes alight and simply say,” Be careful.”

Adds Captain Roos: “The fastest way through ice is to go around it. You get wise with more experience. We’ll be encountering plenty of ice on this trip. We’ll see how we deal with it.”

THE ICE AXE SAT: Q. The Prusik knot is a one-way knot that can be moved upward on a rope but holds when weighted downward much like the mechanical ascenders in climbing that have superseded it. Why is it called Prusik? A. The mountaineering knot was adapted from violin string repair by Dr. Karl Prusik of Austria.

OFF PISTE ADVENTURE:

Five Questions With Scott Flint

Scott Flint began skiing at age 21 while recovering from a broken neck as a result of a motorcycle accident. Close to three decades later the Lake Tahoe resident remains one of the country’s better Master’s Race Coaches, helping such standout champions as Glenn McConkey, Bob Bernard, Gatteano Demattei and Buck Thys grab their fair share of Masters Trophies. More than anything, the professional fly-fishing guide, PSIA Level lll, and USSCA Level ll coach doesn’t mind stepping up to the plate to tell you what’s on his mind.

ON THE LINE THAT GOT AWAY

It had to be “Human Error” at Las Lenas. That is a beauty of steep and sweet. Unfortunately we tried it in a whiteout. My buddy Paul clamed up on a 50-degree pitch in 50 mph winds. I needed to help him out and lost my window.

ON HIS FAVORITE BEATLES SONG

Dear Prudence – It’s heartfelt.

ON AN INSTRUCTOR’S LEARNING CURVE

I was teaching a class at Mammoth. I mentioned to my class at midday that it was okay to relax over lunch with a beer or glass of wine. When they returned for their afternoon session they were all loaded. It was one of the funniest classes I ever taught. They had such a good time they signed up for the next day.

ON ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION 09 GOALS

To sit on an iceberg with a penguin and be mucho tranquilo.

ON WHAT IT TAKES TO IMPROVE ON SKIS

You need to ski off-piste – jump into those variable conditions and terrain. That’s why Squaw Valley produces so many ski champions. They’re freeskiing great terrain as much if not more than training in the sticks.

Keoki, Tim and I consider carving ego, swan-like turns down the lower coral-horned ridge of the big south-facing wall of terrain above the Glaciar Martial within the Provincia de Tierra del Fuego.

Poles tapping their Braille dance, the breath wanders from our lungs like steam swelling out of a riser pipe. But the grin on our faces signaled the arrival of adrenaline. It was either put up or throw up. With a slight nudge from the stares of my friends, I pushed off.

Winter snow forgave bending skis that bounced free to turn into a series of sloping away drop-offs. The bowl, clean and long, gave room to finish turns before widening down to the meadow that lies between it and the chairlift of the Aerosilla resort far below.

If there is a predominant geological statement to Ushuaia that immediately captures the eye it’s the Glaciar Martial and northern peaks of Cerro Andoy, Cerro Martial, Cerro Roy and Cerro Dos Banderos.

Climbing its ridges is adventuring into a monstrous place to rip. It’s a hoedown of wild shots and playful pitches. Towering over Argentina’s, the world’s for that matter, most southern town the peaks seem to reign supreme among all the left hooks that drop on the point of Ushuaia’s jaw. Half southwest facing, the other half southeast, with an elevation well over 1000 meters, the fantasia of acreage offers Sylvain views of the Beagle Channel across to Chile and Porto Williams.

Of course there is the slight problem of getting up there. The Aerosilla resort base begins at 385 meters. Closed for the summer season its one lift wasn’t running, but that didn’t matter seeing it only rises to its top terminal at 575 meters.

Instead, it’s an “earn your turns” type of thingy that requires a bit of hoofing and then a bit of skinning and a lot of sweating and panting. Think Tallac or Jake’s Peak plus a little. Think walking from the bottom of Aspen Mountain to the Maroon Bells. Think about bringing a lot of water.

The first day, with only the three of us above the tree line, we made initial descents where virgin snow awaited patiently and the seracs even sang an inward music. By day five, as more and more, participants of the Ice Axe expeditionary force began flying into Ushuaia, the Glaciar Martial came down with a case of Squaw Valleyitis with everybody getting their freak on. Ice Axe guides, led by top Antarctic ski guide guy Kevin Quinn, began laying down lyrical lines off distant faces that reminded one of heli-runs. Included of course from others trekking about was a bit of straight-lining, magic carpet riding and stick romping enough to sate the maw of any mountain rippage.

Aside from the world-class skiing, Ushuaia offers plenty of history, shopping and Olympic-type eating, which is good when waiting for one’s ship to depart to Antarctica while drying out gnarly long undies.

Forget the colossal lodges, old celebrity photos, wood-fired on-mountain raclette, casual elegance and all the other accolades un plus bel espace de ski du monde is famous for. Ushuaia is nevertheless a cool ski town, kind of an Aspen in its own right, but thankfully without anybody from Aspen.

After all, it was the original Green guy himself, Charles Darwin, who in 1880 said about Ushuaia, “It thrills me. It’s a grand success.” Named after a local tribe in the Magellan region of the Mitre peninsula, the Ushuaia idea of the world was very peculiar, as they perceived it not from the point of view of land, but of water. The Beagle Channel was their dominant toponymy, suffixed “aia; it was, so to speak, an area of water entering land and not the other way around. The tribe, and a few other clans, traveled the channel nomadically, even being called “Canoe People”, as their homemade crafts were central to their lives.

Today, Ushuaia, site of a once primitive tribal headquarters, is the bustling capital of Argentina’s newest province. Its port remains not just a safe haven for ships rounding Cape Horn, but departure for our ship, the Adventure Clipper.

Che! (Hey!) Us skier/ mountain types know a little about water, whether in a chilled mass on the ground or flowing from high alpine streams into lakes, toponymy and all. Che! You can even drink the water around here.

THE ICE AXE SAT (Our daily informative quiz): Q. The mascot for the Aerosilla resort in Ushuaia is a Saint Bernard. What breed is Saint Bernard? A. Saint Bernards descended from Tibetan mastiffs brought to Greece in the fourth century BC and then into Western Europe by the Romans. Their fame and name comes from their association with monks at the Saint Bernard hospice atop Saint Gotthard Pass. A nobleman who decided against marriage on the very eve of his wedding, and instead joined the Augustine Order, building the hospice in A.D. 962 as an aid to travelers crossing the eight thousand-foot pass, founded it.

The sun, pale and without rays, pounded down leaden heat in an indecisive light. It made me squirm as if I’d been prodded under the fifth rib. Hanging in Plaza de Dorrego, a spacious functioning outdoor market within the rakish barrio of San Telmo, I gathered why this section of the city is where bohemians let flow raw and refined pleasures amid cobbled roadways and narrow street colonial atmosphere.

A couple of street artists danced tango, she in shocking red and cleavage, her partner with tilted Fedora and tight vest. Passer-bys paused to watch while portenos (locals) and visitors sipped café coffee and watched the couple finish with a flourish then Michael Jackson freeze signaling the dance done.

San Telmo claims to be the birthplace of tango. Who is to know? Buenos Aires, like most things at the edge of the world, takes time to understand.

All week I’d been withdrawn from the very current of my own existence. And count my partner, acclaimed photographer and adventurer, Keoki Flagg, in, too, for that matter. Without cell phone, his addicted tech life had deadened to a pace usually only welcomed by those resting at some sort of Betty Ford clinic. But his cold sweats eventually switched to a glow, engulfed by one of the greatest cities on the planet where time becomes magically languid, if not, well, a fluid concept.

Buenos Aires felt good. I mean like really good, like better than graduating off probation or noticing the laugh from a girl’s fingertip. At times it transcended any rational discussion, because, really, it’s a city that’s anything but rational. But as Martin Sheen says in “Apocalypse Now” about the voice of Colonel Kurtz,” It really put the hook in me.”

Moreover, throughout our days, oh lovely sweet days, I’d been on a mission: To find more Mojo. Okay, not the kind of Austin Powers/ Hugh Hefner less romantic more hedonistic mojo that prompts a whatever-feels-good approach to life.

Mine was more the slant of fallen earth Mojo – after a year of cancer battle and enough infused chemo to hire Con Edison to corral, I was in search of more strength. The type that makes even the worst situations open into starbursts where chariots and white horses courageously breach the darkness and whose accompanying Milk of Magnesia bright clouds make joyful sounds of singing children.

Buenos Aires seemed as good as any primate city to find it. Keoki and I had begun our Homeric Odyssey in Recoleta in a large space low rent apartment building bordering Belgrano, and near to everything municipal to funky cool. We’d done the standard tourist gig: trying all sorts of groovetron stuff – from eating open spit cooked Cabrito (baby goat) to visiting a museum or two (yawn); walking miles of city, whether near the Casa Rosa square, through parks littered with huge statues and other oddball government houses that looked like a cross between the Pantheon and the Reichstag; checking out the waterfront of Puerto Madero (and no we did not go into the Hooters or TGIF that voraciously ambushed passerbys – egad!); to studying turn-of the century casa chorizos architecture – French-style mansard (two-tier) roofs and specific landmarks like the Palacio de las Aguas Corrientes on Avenida Cordoba.

All good fun, and it helped raise the vibe, mainly because we had help – from Bob and Beth Cushman, two Squaw Valley ex- patriots, raising their two teenage girls and living a wonderfully paced life in Buenos Aires. They took us to one of the hippest restaurants in San Telmo if not the world – La Brigada – un distincto en parrilla where we gorged on Asado, sopresatte sausage and salad, drank flagons of Terrazos Malbec all at about a paltry $25 a head. Decorated by countless signed soccer jerseys, balls and flags, the bar was a world of its own. Day six we went with Bob and Beth (and Fred and Barbara Ilfeld, too) to the stadium of the famed soccer team Bocca Juniors where we watched them stomp their sad sack opponent 3-0. While many spectators sat enthusiastically, possibly 20,000 Bocca fans stood the complete game singing and banging out songs louder thana Mitch Ryder concert.

I was stoked. Not just because I felt on top of the world, not at the end of it. It had been earlier that last day of our visit, before the futbol, during our visit to Plaza De Dorrego, in between drinking Quilmes beer and munching on a tapa ojo de bife, that I’d found the juju that I now truly believe will aid me in the upcoming Antarctic weeks.

The street vender was a whisper of a figure. The air escaped through his lips with a noise like the sound of bellows. It made one anxious to hear what he had to say. His neck was long and thin; his eyelids red; rare hairs hung about his jaw; his shoulders drooped like the broken wings of a bird.

“Oh Antarctica, yes, yes, have faith,” he said in broken English.

He spoke like a misshapen pagan burning incense before the oracle of a joss. He sold me a piece of shaped Amazon wood: it looks like a seashell. More importantly I chose special polished and colorful stones, all good juju he assured me.

“What you got there?” Keoki later asked over a Quilmes.

“Good juju, “ I said.

“Hey, man, right on, we’re going to need that!”

Today, the sun shines brightly. Our plane lifts off the runway in the early morning dawn headed to Ushuaia 1400 miles south at the ends of the earth.