I found a light switch and turned it on to see my surroundings. It was a small room made out of plywood with a curtain for a door. I thought I had limited space in Brooklyn but this was about half that size, maybe 42 square feet. There was a single bed, rickety dresser with an alan wrench protruding for a handle, and a small chair with a slight walkway in between. It didn't look vacuumed and all of the furnishings were old and well used. Every time I shifted something on the floor I fully expected for cockroaches to start scattering toward the walls seeking cover. It finally dawned on me that there was no insects here. Even seemingly indestructible roaches are no match for constant sub zero temperatures. Will I be?

One good thing I discovered was the bathroom is a mere 15 second run from my front door. That is if i run. I do not wish to tarry long without gear. I found that out the hard way. But should have flipped through my mental index to when I was a child and my mother used to take me up in the Wasatch Mountain to teach me how to ski. I listened to her instruction on how to snow plow, traverse and read the terrain. As one would expect living in the Rockies, snow storms and high winds were part of the learning process. I had to figure out how to protect myself from the elements and prepare for quick changes in temperature and weather.

A fundamental principle she stressed was to dress in layers. That way if the air was frigid you already had enough clothing on to shield yourself. Then if it became too hot you could simply remove an existing layer. At first she had to help me put on the additional bulky clothing and click in and out of my ski bindings. I watched until I could gear up to perfection myself. Here at the South Pole, there will be a learning curve to figure out how much layering will ultimately be needed for my comfort. This morning I took the walk to the station with jeans, sneakers and a skimpy Kenneth Cole jacket. I could have survived the walk with these items but made one painful mistake. No head protection. Exposed skin doesn't last long with temperatures being fifty below zero.

I could feel my face starting to burn. Each deep breathe made me cough as if I were a chronic smoker. The air was too cold for my lungs and throat. The tips of my ears began to sting. My brain started going into a weird panic that I haven't experience, even though I knew I was going to be okay. The building was within my grasp. But still I felt nauseous. I thought how horrible it would be to freeze to death. Finally, I looked around to see if there were any people out. My ego got the best of me and I didn't want any of my coworkers to see what I was about to do. When I saw the coast was clear I started running. I couldn't get the station fast enough. I huffed up the stairs and slammed the door opened and looked back, double checking no one was out there behind me.

I zipped into the bathroom to blow my nose and my face was as red as if I had been at a Vegas swimming pool in July without sunscreen. Never again will I leave without a balaclava. The rest of my body was cold but tolerable. The bare skin, however, was in pain. Tomorrow I start work. It won't merely be a seven minute walk, but a prolonged eight hours of vulnerability in the elements. I can't wait. I'm just going to wear lots of layers like my mom taught me so many years ago.

written by  JCinTheSouthPole on November 7, 2009 from Christchurch, New Zealand
from the travel blog: South Pole
tagged JakeCarling
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haha, the blogging program doesnt believe you're at the south pole...
and wear your goddamned balaclava... isn't that a Greek dessert?

written by  Jared CArson on November 8, 2009

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okay, what IS a Balaclava?

written by  April on November 8, 2009

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okay nevermind...i looked it up...its called something else here!!

written by  April on November 9, 2009

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