In case you haven't noticed, this is the first official post of my blog... a long time coming to say the least. Although I have technically been at McMurdo Station for four days now, I finally have the opportunity to sit down and reflect on what it took for me to actually get here.
My journey started on the 7th of October, traveling 2.5 hours to Denver where I spent the greater part of two days making several new friends (also headed to the ice) and sitting through an in-depth orientation at the RPSC headquarters (Raytheon Polar Services Co. in case you were wondering). On our last night, I stopped by a friend's room real quick and was instead greated by a less than welcoming voice asking "WHAT IN THE $#%&" I wanted. I had knocked on the wrong door and, upon realizing this mistake, I did what any mature individual of my stature would have done... I fled. Not only did I flee, but I did so in a manner where anyone caught in my path (man, woman, or child) would have surely been trampled and left to their fate.
On the 9th of October I boarded another short flight to LAX and proceeded to wait around for four hours, only to board a 15 hour international flight to Sydney. The sight of this plane was very humbling... we're talking a full double-decker jumbo jet with televisions on the back of every seat and a vast aray of programming to choose from. I watched Transformers 2, Angels & Demons, Terminator Salvation, The Hangover, and a couple of other movies in one sitting (in addition to the first 10 minutes of Star Trek). Upon arrival in Sydney, I was promptly herded to my next flight to Christchurch where I was greeted by a futuristic (albeit compact) hotel room (and an alarm that incorporated the TV & played soothing music).
The city was terrific but my demeanor during my two nights there would best be described as... "antsy." I was ready to get to the ice and I was sick of being coralled into various planes for hours on end. Fortunately this problem was resolved by coralling me into another plane for five more hours... the difference being that this gem was a C-17 military cargo plane. This meant uncomfortable seats, no televisions, no windows, and a cabin so loud that hearing protection was mandatory for the entire flight.
By now you're probably thinking that I am a complete idiot for willingly putting myself through this (and rightly so), but give me a moment. I must confess that these thoughts of idiocy and regret crossed my own mind more than once, but it was all wiped away and replaced by sheer awe in an instant when I was allowed to enter the cockpit and finally get a glimpse of the outside world.
Once I saw the ice for the first time I immediately fell in love and my body, which had been beaten down by jet lag and cramped quarters, was completely re-energized. After an eternity we finally touched down and the doors flew open, providing a majority of us with the chance to take our first steps onto a continent that people often overlook. When my boot came down on the 12 feet of ice we called a runway, it really sunk in that that was the first step of a once in a lifetime adventure.
...at which point I was crammed into a juiced up bus for 45 minutes until we got to the station.
(coming up next: Welcome to McMurdo)
My journey started on the 7th of October, traveling 2.5 hours to Denver where I spent the greater part of two days making several new friends (also headed to the ice) and sitting through an in-depth orientation at the RPSC headquarters (Raytheon Polar Services Co. in case you were wondering). On our last night, I stopped by a friend's room real quick and was instead greated by a less than welcoming voice asking "WHAT IN THE $#%&" I wanted. I had knocked on the wrong door and, upon realizing this mistake, I did what any mature individual of my stature would have done... I fled. Not only did I flee, but I did so in a manner where anyone caught in my path (man, woman, or child) would have surely been trampled and left to their fate.
On the 9th of October I boarded another short flight to LAX and proceeded to wait around for four hours, only to board a 15 hour international flight to Sydney. The sight of this plane was very humbling... we're talking a full double-decker jumbo jet with televisions on the back of every seat and a vast aray of programming to choose from. I watched Transformers 2, Angels & Demons, Terminator Salvation, The Hangover, and a couple of other movies in one sitting (in addition to the first 10 minutes of Star Trek). Upon arrival in Sydney, I was promptly herded to my next flight to Christchurch where I was greeted by a futuristic (albeit compact) hotel room (and an alarm that incorporated the TV & played soothing music).
The city was terrific but my demeanor during my two nights there would best be described as... "antsy." I was ready to get to the ice and I was sick of being coralled into various planes for hours on end. Fortunately this problem was resolved by coralling me into another plane for five more hours... the difference being that this gem was a C-17 military cargo plane. This meant uncomfortable seats, no televisions, no windows, and a cabin so loud that hearing protection was mandatory for the entire flight.
By now you're probably thinking that I am a complete idiot for willingly putting myself through this (and rightly so), but give me a moment. I must confess that these thoughts of idiocy and regret crossed my own mind more than once, but it was all wiped away and replaced by sheer awe in an instant when I was allowed to enter the cockpit and finally get a glimpse of the outside world.
Once I saw the ice for the first time I immediately fell in love and my body, which had been beaten down by jet lag and cramped quarters, was completely re-energized. After an eternity we finally touched down and the doors flew open, providing a majority of us with the chance to take our first steps onto a continent that people often overlook. When my boot came down on the 12 feet of ice we called a runway, it really sunk in that that was the first step of a once in a lifetime adventure.
...at which point I was crammed into a juiced up bus for 45 minutes until we got to the station.
(coming up next: Welcome to McMurdo)
7 comments:
Good work Grant. I will bake you some goodies and send them your way... send me the address
If ever you are feeling sad or homesick, let a little Arnold raise your spirits. "Come on, just do it!"
Hi this is Sydney! I miss you. I love you Uncle Grant. Say hi to the penguins for me.
Love,
Sydney
Hey little bro- Sounds like you are having quite an adventure so far. I am so proud of you for not listening to mom and going on this huge journey (just kidding mom...I think he's crazy).
Anyhow... I am so glad you finally posted on your blog. I had been checking it every day. Waiting to hear how you are. I have to say I was crying like a baby while I read your post. I'm so excited for you but on the other hand it feels weird that you are so far away. Stay warm. And keep posting on your blog!
Love you,
Your big sister Jen
Greetings to you Grant from your mom's work partner, Kathe Monroe. I was excited the moment I heard of your adventure, and look forward to learning all about your encounters, and how the heck you keep warm. First questions: who are all the people in red? Is it mostly supplies transported there or do people come for a gander at the site?
Stay warm and enjoy every moment. You will look back on this many times in the future.
I am proud of your venturing spirit!!
Kathe
Hi Grant- Cool site you made here. Balmy 3 degrees out, wow. Enjoy your week.
Margo
love the blog. can't believe i am just reading it. looks like you're having a good time! glad to see! and i am quite jealous of your penguin sighting. that's awesome!
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