Polar
training

Training with the McNair family

Iqaluit, Baffin Island · February – March 2014

The McNair family of polar explorers are incredible. Matty McNair, who is the mother to Sarah and Eric McNair Landry. Matty led the first all female expedition to the North Pole in 1997 and both Sarah and Eric have set numerous polar records. So it was great that we got the opportunity to train with them for three weeks, to learn about the essentials of polar survival – not just in theory, but in practice.

We had to make sure we were in good physical condition before we left Sao Paulo to get to Iqaluit to meet them, so we spent a good amount of time beforehand at the gym and also that old past time of… tyre-pulling (great way to spend weekends!) – to make sure that we exercised the muscles that would be used in pulling sleds, and the course was certainly intense and justified being in good shape! While we could have rented polar clothing and equipment from the McNairs, we wanted and needed to get some of our gear as well, so it wasn’t cheap!

The course covered aspects such as navigation with GPS/compass/the sun/the winds; crevasse rescue; arctic swimming (with dry suit of course!); dealing with polar bears; and of course skiing, camping, the stoves, health and diet, clothing and equipment, kite skiing, plus many other points. Every night we would be camping on the ice then go into the house for theory lessons and then in the afternoon, out on to the ice for some skiing.

One of the more memorable days was a practical test for using the GPS. Sarah placed four bags of items around the bay outside and gave us the coordinates, and left us to our devices. We didn’t manage the battery life of our GPS device very well, so we… didn’t have much luck. We got back just after night fall, when they were thinking about to send a search party for us! Lessons learned with battery management in the freezing temperatures!

The Highlands and the Cairngorms

September 2020, after months of lockdown in New Delhi

To cut a long story short though, I am now back living in the UK and managing to sort out training within the confines of the lockdowns. Think that being over here will make the training easier to manage to be honest, especially once the restrictions ease, so I think the year ahead will be quite exciting. Already just being able to go out for daily hikes and runs (and continuing with the pilates!) is a huge difference from the New Delhi, where the smog and the heat could be overwhelming!

I flew back to the UK from New Delhi at the beginning of September 2020, and after months of being stuck inside, it was nice to be able to get back to breathe fresher air – at least, after the mandatory 10-day quarantine period at that time came to an end. To celebrate the end of quarantine, I decided to head up to Scotland to climb a few of the mountains in the Highlands, first with my sister Lesley who is an avid hiker and who lives up in Glasgow. Was a tiring couple of days – Les and her boyfriend were so much fitter than me (and I suspect they still are as the mountains are so much more accessible to them in current situation!) and would go at breakneck speed and leave me trailing in their wake.

After a day in Glasgow getting supplies for my own planned camping trip, we went towards Perth and the Beinn Ghlas ridge: despite having been born and raised in northern Scotland, these would be my first Munros! A good 21km or so… first time out hiking properly (as opposed to just gym-work) for… wow! ten months? Seemed like forever! So good to be out, about and active again.

One of the more productive things that I managed to do when I was stuck in the isolation of the lockdown in New Delhi was actually, over the period of five months, write a first draft of a novel I had been thinking about for sometime. Was pretty pleased with myself – you know when you have lots of ideas but they don’t connect? Well, I managed to work out how to bring them together within a nice structure and the writing just kept on flowing. The reason I mention this is that one of the chapters is based up in the Highlands, and specifically the Angels Ridge and the second highest mountain in Scotland, Braeriach. One of the reasons I wanted to train in the Cairngorms, and more specifically, start from Aviemore, was that Braeriach is less than a day’s hike from the town, and I wanted to see how accurate my descriptions were considering I had never been there and had been relying on the photographs of others and Google Maps to try and gauge what it might be like.

It didn’t disappoint and was a tremendous start to the next few days of hiking. My rucksack was ridiculously heavy, laden with plenty of supplies, though part of the whole challenge was also to cope with the weight on my back! The first 10km were pretty flat, easy and again in perfect clear conditions. Walking along a forested path that gradually opened out to just heather and to reveal the mountains of the Lairig Ghru, including Braeriach, before me. Even had more chance to mess around with the drone. But once the ascent started… wow! The next 5km up from 600m to almost 1,300m. Tiring and, on the steeper parts, painful! Plenty of other hikers passed me on the trail as I just slowly made my way up, and there were so many false summits before finally making it.

I had originally aimed to go around 25km to get to the bottom of the Angel’s Ridge, near Devil’s Point, but by the time I got to the summit, after around 16-17km, I was getting a bit tired and it was getting a little late so decided to pitch the tent just a little further along next to the Wells of Dee – the source of the River Dee, which flows through to the sea at Aberdeen, where I was born. Thought there was some nice poetry there! Nice to finally be out in the tent as well, and it definitely was worth it just for the chapter.

One of the very many reasons why extreme altitude mountaineers love the Highlands – aside from the spectacularly beautiful landscape, which goes without saying – is the way the conditions can change so quickly. One moment you have beautiful weather, then the next, the cloud has come down and the wind has picked up. It’s challenging. One of the aspects of the chapter I had come up to research for my novel touches on this and I was overjoyed in the way this happened to me on Braeriach. The day of my ascent started off perfectly – as I say, just beautiful. By the end of it, the wind had picked up, making it pretty tough to pitch the tent, and there were gales over night. It was my sister’s 3-season tent (my 4-season tent is in Canada – long story behind that), so I got a bit nervous about whether it would survive. Fortunately, it performed admirably.

After my customary breakfast of porridge with strawberries, I broke camp at a respectable time of 9am, and decided that I would take in a few more Munros to compensate for the previous day’s modest distance. First, Monadh Mor at 1,113m, which was a reasonably straightforward climb up from my camping spot. This had a splendid view across the valley to the Angel’s Ridge and the rest of my day’s trek, first with Sgòr an Lochain Uaine (aka Angel’s Peak – 1,258m), then Cairn Toul (1,291m) and finally Stob Coire an t-Saigdeir (1,213m) before heading down to the floor of Lairig Ghru to pitch tent by the Corrour Bothy.

If there was anything I had learned over the past couple of days, there was nothing “quick” about trekking.

Getting to the bottom and you can just about make out the top section of the path before it’s obscured by the lower hills, but as well as the welcome site of the bothy, the dramatic view of The Devil’s Point proudly towering up and looking down on everything was worth it. Really would love to have done the hike in winter – more preparation for the future polar journeys, and they say the Lairig Ghru is great for Arctic training given the tundra-like conditions in winter. But the lockdowns now have made that impossible this year at least. Will go back in spring/summer when the restrictions have eased and see where I am next winter considering training will be ramped up for the Greenland expedition, but for now I have to content myself with looking at the photos and dreaming myself there.

Norway: preparing for Greenland and the South Pole

Ustaoset, Finse and the Hardangervidda · January – February 2022

For one month or so from the middle of January 2022, I went to Norway. First to meet with the group organised by Norwegian company Hvitserk with whom I will be going to Greenland, and then to go out by myself. The aim of the training: to get ready for both Greenland and the planned solo journey to the South Pole.

In going with Hvitserk to Greenland, I will be in a group of seven other people, including two guides. A nicely sized group and it was great getting to meet them all to go skiing with them and get used to the equipment we will be using on Greenland. So we spent a good four days or so, skiing around near Ustaoset, on to the Hardangervidda.

It was a good few days. Definitely felt the effects of not having skied properly for a few years – though am not sure if you can call my skiing “proper” anyway! I had only really been on the flat sea ice before this, and here we were going up and down these hills, which proved pretty challenging. I struggled quite a bit especially at first, trying not to fall over on the downhills, and going slower on the climbs up. But eventually I improved and wasn’t falling over too often when going downhill by the end of it! Uphills… it was varied. The snow can make such a huge difference. When there was slightly softer snow that wasn’t deep, it was fine. Though then there are times when it is really hard, wind-blown and compact, and it was difficult to dig the steel edges of the skis into it and get grip to go up, even with the skins on.

With the ending of the group training with Hvitserk, I took the opportunity to go on my own solo journey around the Ustaoset and Finse region, and up to the Hardangervidda Plateau. With the South Pole plans at the end of the year, I aim to travel solo, so I need to have as much experience out by myself as possible. The journey to the Pole is not just physical, it’s also psychological – travelling alone for around 50 days, in the most extreme conditions, pulling the heavy weight of the pulk the entire time; the routine… every day, getting up, breakfast; packing up the sleeping bag and tent… skiing for the next eight hours or so… pitching the tent again; firing up the stoves and heating the water for food. Dinner and then sleep. And repeat. With nobody else around; just the satellite phone and locator beacon as your only means to contact the outside world a thousand miles away.

The Hardangervidda Plateau is a tremendous place to train. While the terrain is different from Antarctica – you have to ski through mountain passes and the wind is quite variable – the conditions can be formidable. I had a couple of storms with winds reaching around 70mph or so, and plenty of days with just constant strong headwinds. Then there were the whiteouts, and travelling through deep snow, going up to your knees even with skis on that are meant to distribute your weight… and the climbing… It was tough!

The second night out, I made a mistake with the tent in incredibly strong winds which led to some of the poles breaking… it was stupid of me, but I know what I did wrong and after repairing everything, it was nice for the confidence to be able to put the tent up again in similar conditions with no problem. Still hard when by yourself… so much harder than when with other people… but it’s something that I will have to deal with constantly in Antarctica. I won’t be able to just stay in the tent when it is windy – the winds will be merciless there! So ultimately, it was good to make the mistake in Norway where I could mend things and recover, to keep going. And ultimately, learn from what happened. It was a great feeling to arrive at Finse at the end of the time on the plateau having been able to work, navigate and travel through all those conditions, and it certainly helped build the confidence enough to know that with continued training, I’ll be able to manage on Antarctica. Exciting just to think about!!

Travelling through a whiteout is like travelling through limbo: you feel like you are moving yet going nowhere. Nothing seems to change. There are no shadows and there is no contrast.

I found myself slowly zig-zagging my way up and down the hillsides, especially with the sled being pretty heavy. Keep calm and keep breathing. Judge the feeling of the snow beneath the skis, the pull of the sled on the harness getting heavier and lighter as the terrain changed. The general balance and feel. It was slow, often painful, and challenging – especially when the snow got really deep – and there were points when it just seemed the climb would never end; going into that endless white void.

But then it gets flat again and you realize that the hardest parts are behind you and that you managed it. And you keep going.

The training journal