I'm now back up in Barrow for fieldwork, this time with Hajo Eicken (my boss), and Malcolm Ingham from Victoria University of Wellington. Malcolm is a physics professor at VUW who uses electro-magnetic methods to study the earth's subsurface. In Barrow, we're testing a new method to measure the connectivity of the brine inclusions in sea ice. If successful, this will enable us to make fully-automated measurements of the state of the ice in places like the McMurdo Sound runway in Antarctica.
Back in January, when Pat Cotter and I installed our wireless mass balance site, we also installed two strings of electrodes for Malcolm's experiments. The ice has since grown thicker - growing past the electrodes previously hanging down into the water. Each string has 19 electrodes spaced 10 cm apart. In the measurements, we inject an electrical current between two electrodes, one in each string, and then measure the voltage drop between two other electrodes. With 19 electrodes in each string, there are very many different possible combinations. We don't use all of them, just enough to get a clear image of the electrical resistivity of the ice between the two strings. This profile is related to the salt content of the ice, and how well-connected the salty brine inclusions are.
So far, so good: we've made one successful set of measurements, we've only seen prints but no bears, and Malcolm has had his first blast driving a snow machine. We'll also make measurements later in the season, when these measurements should be sensitive to rapid changes expected with warming above -5 C.
Here's Malcolm making measurements with field support officer Scott Oyagak looking on (and for bears!)Hajo (left) cutting an ice core for salinity measurements to compare with the electrical measurements.
Here are some pics from our trip into Colorado Creek Cabin in the White Mountains near Fairbanks. Our group included a 6-dog mushing team, a ski-jorer (she skied with some help from her dog pulling her along via a harness) and three of us on skis. Incredible northern lights, which my poor quality, hand-held long (10 second) exposure shots do no justice. I'll leave at this at the moment, so Lisa can write this one up... I had heard plenty about cabin trips into the nearby White Mountains since I visited last time, and I was eager to get out there! We were invited along to a weekend long trip on a gradually uphill ski into the hut, and thus gentle descent out. It was a 50km round trip ski that took us around 10 hours all up, with temperatures around -20C and a windchill. It was *cold* and we kept moving. Thankfully we arrived to a warm cabin and some warm soup that the mushers had prepared for us, and we could check out our surrounds, chop logs for firewood and relax. Being so cold and clear it was a spectacular night for the aurora to show her splendour. This is one of the real bonuses to having an out house...throughout the evening people rugged up to do their business and hollered in reporting the aurora's movements. First striking green and dancing like a rainbow over head, and then a hour later, a massive array of green 'curtains' (it really does look like curtains in the breeze) with a strong line of dancing pink beneath, covering most of the sky. It's pretty rare to see such a colourful display even here, so I was delighted. The cold day and wind were worth it. Dan diligently lay down in the snow to get these photos, using his chest in lieu of a tripod...circumstances considering, they're excellent shots.
A great meal and evening of yarns ensued, as we learned about dog mushing, this activity that possesses so many Alaskans. Being out in the big spaces like this, with miles and miles of land ahead, and being able to explore that space with dogs who happily and hastily run through the woods, is what draws a lot of people to it. I went mushing over spring break and the sense of a team and solitude all at once is quite remarkable. The dogs slept outside in little nests they made for themselves, awake and ready to run again at dawn.
An amazing first cabin trip!
A week before I turned the ripe old age of 31, I got down to the Alaska Range and climbed my first Alaskan Peak - the modest McGinnis Peak. The trip was run through the Alaska Alpine Club and led by my good mate Frank. When we left Fiarbanks at a lesurely 7am it was bloody cold (-30 C) but down past Delta Junction it was warmer and as clear a day as you could imagine. In fact we saw no trace of a cloud in two days. We skied in 7 miles (11 km) up a creek and Glacier for about 5 hours and set up camp at the base of the scenic Rainbow Ridge. Frank, me and Tom from the Czech Republic took off and climbing McGinnis in the twilight - a two hour round trip up a ridge left of the big bowl in the picture below (that peak is not McGinnis). It was about 75 minutes up a reasonably steep ridge involving some steep sections of front pointing. It felt great but I was knackered after the ski in. Enthusiasm and thoughts of Lisa spewing on the coast to coast but keeping on keeping on, help me to the top. A modest achievement but a fantastic view and great feeling. We climbed back down first under moonlight and then with head lamps, carefully picking our way down some sections face into the slope.
The caffeinated power gels and suagry snacks that had fuelled the ascent kept me awake far too long through the night. After about 4 hours sleep I was up at 6:30am to cook breakfast, or at least to get cold fumbling around with brittle matches and lighters which were too cold to light. The whole group of 12 then climbed the same route. It was much easier the second time around, even after little sleep, partly because steps were cut into the steep sections, but also because it wasn't into the unknown and dark!The ski out was bloody hairy - a big pack on and down crazy hard-packed and windblown sustrugi snow on the glacier. Looking back, one of the 2 big full face plants must have been when I sprung my ac shoulder joint. The creek section was smoother sailing though, and we were back at Delta having a beer and burger by about 6pm. A great trip, and hopefuly the first of many such missions. Big ups to Frank for lending me so much gear and for leading the trip.
Here's Malcolm making measurements with field support officer Scott Oyagak looking on (and for bears!)
