Monday, October 02, 2006

November 7, 1975: Friday

Got things loaded for the 1A trip. Weather isn’t looking too good. Mac Center Forecasting says snow by noon.

Helo pilot Rich Sluys calls and says we can go at 10:45. Hustle, hustle. Round everything up. Henry’s not ready to go. That means we load on 250 more pounds and can’t go to Scott Base.

Besides, Mike sent up two cooks (Siple and RISP) who aren’t going anywhere because of the Hercs, and they needed work to do. So we had to give them instructions on cleaning the porch and moving cardboard boxes to the USARP storage pad.

Then Sluys calls back. The weather looks better and we go at 13:00. Rich Sluys is a blond, blue twinkle-eyed pilot. Perfect helo pilot, a real joker, looking forward to bringing Kathy home.

My body fell asleep on the torturous flight, piled up among a spare tire and food boxes.

Got out and unloaded. I drove 590 over. That was a real disaster, thinking the wrong way.

Henry and I are in the Scott Tent that Kathy used. Cal was a little sour. I sort of hope he was that way all week. Kathy was very friendly, the first to break long silences in the Mess Jamesway while Peter and Cal talked. I had been afraid that she wouldn’t remember me after a week of Cal, etc.

We set up new ice deflection flags. Henry and Cal and I went to take a bottom sample from a seal hole three kilometers from 1A. Cal drove. But I backed up to the seal hole without any trouble.

The weather is starting to come back. Leon says this is the longest streak of good weather he’s seen in Antarctica.

I wore the ol’ State Champ jacket out on the ice. Probably the only one ever worn on the ice. Probably the only person vain enough to do it.

Started reading Cosell. I like it. His view of how honest he is about all the controversy he’s been in. Anyway he recalls all those Olympic events I remember so well.

I’ve been in the drill rig once. I don’t understand anything. Just machines turning driveshafts and Mike twisting lengths of pipe with a monkey wrench. It’s rather impressive.

Max twisted his ankle playing hockey.

He give’s Max’s Misguided Tours.

The signpost is up. Nebraska is that-a-way.

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