Survivor Ellesmere

I woke up this morning to discover that overnight Eureka had transformed into a tropical weather station, with the temperature at -15.8. Up from the -25 or so we had yesterday. The lab where we work, being 600 m above sea level, often enjoys a temperature inversion - where the temperature increases as you go up in altitude from the surface as opposed to the normal decrease. So ordinarily when you see that it's -40 at the station, it's more like -30 here. Yesterday it was -11. Today it's -9. Really. I invite you to check the weather where you are to see how it compares. Also, the cloud base in Eureka is about 590 m, so PEARL is sitting in a cloud. It's almost warm enough to make snow men, though you wouldn't be able to see them from a few feet away.

Yesterday was yet another lazy Sunday in Eureka after staying up a wee bit too late the night before. (I would like to point out that I went to bed at least 3 hours earlier than the last group, unfortunately, this was still 2 in the morning.) It was another sleep-in Sunday morning, with brunch being at 11, so at least I got some semblance of sleep, unlike years past where I've stayed up just as late but gotten up at 7. In the morning I was rewarded, upon opening my window, by seeing a herd of musk ox right behind the station, just before they ran out of view. I got my over-wined ass out of my pjs, found Tobias, and headed out to see if we could get any closer. There was a group of five of them up a hill about a 10 minute walk away, and so we, as quietly as possible, made our way closer to them. Tobias took some hopefully great pictures with his old-timey film camera. We didn't want to get too close to animals that aren't used to seeing humans and have horns all the better to gore you with, but we got close enough to get a super look at them. Musk ox are awesome.

After brunch, we decided that there was no real need to go up to the lab immediately (those running non-automated instruments had gone up at 8 as usual), so after doing a bit of work on my close-to-being-finished Mantra 2004 paper (really!), Oleg and I decided to go ice skating. The water up here comes from a diverted creek, which I suppose in the end comes from melted glaciers and snow. There's an open reservoir with pipes going to the station. Water at the lab is trucked in from this supply. Once the reservoir freezes over, people can skate on it. This is normally more of a fall activity, since (a) there's not as much snow that needs clearing off and (b) it's not -40, but Oleg and and I put on our St. Petersburg/Ottawa brave faces and out we went. There's not much snow up here, but it's packed REALLY well. I am quite sore today after our clearing efforts. But it's sort of my climbing muscles, so I maybe won't be as bad when I get home? (Ahh...it's funny because I'm going to be so terrible.) Anyways, the Eureka reservoir is not quite the Rideau Canal, but super-fun nonetheless. Ice acts differently at -40 than at warmer temperatures - it makes this cool squeeking noise that sort of sounds like the ice is cracking beneath you. Once we get more Sun we'll be able to go without skipping out on work at the lab for the day. Eureka is fun.

Those of you who remember my trip to Eureka in 2004 will no doubt remember the tobogganing that Tobias, Keith, and I participated in. You will also no doubt remember this awesome picture. (And those awesome videos...) Last year, the little red toboggan that used to reside at the lab had mysteriously disappeared. Oleg found it carefully stored in the station garage this year, and so yesterday Oleg, Paul, Tobias, and I head to the hills to defy death as we hurtled down the steep steep slopes surrounding PEARL. And defy death we did. There's not as much snow around this year, so the sharp rocks that make up the ridge the lab sits on are covered by only a small layer of protective snow. So only a few slides into our adventures we wussed out and came inside. Tobias quit after one run, and seemed to escape unscathed. I bounced a little funny at the end of a run and ended up with a giant, painful bruise on my bum. Oleg, while going over this hill backwards (I don't think this picture quite captures his "oh shit" facial expression as he realised he was going over this hill backwards), landed on a rock that managed to cut him through his parka, snowpants, pants, and underwear. Paul took a rock to the knee and has a nice gash to sew up in his pants and snowpants (and knee for that matter). The hills of Eureka are fighting back, and they're not going to take us trying to slide down them for fun.

While doing legitimate research on NOx produced by lightning, I found this amusing tale of Ozzy Ozone and his mission to protect good people from the harmful effects of ultra-violet radiation. (Click here to be taken to the page with the video.) I need a hat like that, to use when I'm fighting UV.

Despite some errors or misrepresentations of the truth, it's a nice little explanation of the basics of ozone depletion for kids. So, if you've ever wondered why I come up here, this video is for you. Points to non-atmospheric scientists who can tell me what the errors are. This is your chance to prove you've been listening to me all these years! OK, points to atmospheric scientists too. Points can be redeemed for prizes, like musk ox and caribou jerky, fancy Arctic teas, or other products that can be purchased at the Yellowknife airport.

Yesterday afternoon Tobias and I went for the first of what I hope will be many walks around the lab. PEARL (Polar Environment Atmospheric Research Lab - if you want to impress your friends) is about 600 m above sea level, on a ridge left over from when the glaciers came through however long ago. There are a few ridges around, and a quick 15 minute walk will take you down the one we're on, across a valley, and up the next one over. Which provides my favourite view in all of Eureka. Which, like all things here, does not get fully captured by the lens. But this is by far the best picture I have ever taken. Ever. I don't throw that word around lightly. Far in the background you might be able to make out Cape Hare, which I have aspirations of skiing down some day, and in front of that is Slidre Fiord, home of the Eureka Weather Station. The Sun may be pretty, but it's covered by clouds - not so great for most of the measurements that happen up here. That's Tobias collapsed on the ridge - it's a fairly steep climb, and you'd be surprised how quickly you can overheat in full Arctic gear. If at any point in the year I wonder why exactly I want to go to the High Arctic in February, this view is the answer. Pink skies and white snow, with no signs of people for as far as the eye can see (provided you don't look at the weather station or the lab). Eureka is the prettiest place I've ever been to, and I'm reminded of that every time I look out the window.

Of course there IS other life around these parts, the most dangerous of which is the polar bear. They actually aren't seen all that often around here at this time of year, since they need open water to eat, but every now and then one does make it up here, and I've been told you don't want to run into a hungry polar bear. There are also wolves, who may be cute, but would eat you and your family without batting an eyelash. A somewhat wise man once taught me two survival skills for use in these parts. The first is to touch any exposed parts of your face with your bare hands every once in awhile to make sure you don't have frostbite. The second was to scan the horizon for predators when you're walking about. It occurred to me yesterday while practising this survival skill that if I did see a wolf or a polar bear on that horizon, I would have absolutely no plan of action. Do you run back to the station to avoid becoming dinner? What it the bear/wolf hasn't seen you yet, and this draws their attention? Do you stay still and wait for them to go away? This seems to be wasting precious getting-away time. I suppose I would quietly make my way back to other people, but I'm pretty sure that if the bear/wolf wanted to eat me it could. Maybe this is why I have to sign a waiver before the university lets me come up here. Maybe I shouldn't be walking outside. Maybe I should knock over Tobias on my dash back to the lab.

The most exciting thing that happened yesterday was by far the herd of musk ox we saw on our way back to the station last night. They were a bit too far from the road for good pictures, so I'll save you the dark blurs on the horizon, but they were close enough to see. This is my fifth trip to the Arctic and my very first musk ox sighting. (Aside from stuffed ones in airports/hotels and the steak I was treated to on my first trip up. SO tasty - picture the best steak you've ever had and then multiply it by a thousand.) (OK, this doesn't work if you're vegetarian. Picture really good tofu, but then make it taste like a really good steak.) They were still by the road this morning, so I'm hoping they stay around long enough to get a really good view. They are amazing animals. They seem almost prehistoric, and I wonder how they survive up here. And they're fast! They heard the truck and took off up the hill they were on. Now all I have left to see in terms of Eureka wildlife is a polar bear. And maybe it's a good thing I haven't seen one of those....

So now that my spectrometer is up on the roof, and I have more access to free time and internet, I can provide you with shiny new pictures of shiny new adventures.
Me writing on the ceiling at Bullock's Bistro in Yellowknife, home of the giant buffalo steak:

Somewhere over the NWT, with the Sun behind us:

Oleg about to kick some shuffleboard ass:

Polar sunrise!

After a long, long day on a little, little plane, we finally arrived in Eureka Saturday. The plane was a bit bigger than the twin otter that we normally fly up in, and definately more comfortable, but something like eight hours of flying later I couldn't feel my knees or my bum. But in the end, despite head winds, we got to Eureka in the evening.
Which is by far the best time to arrive. On account of the madness of Saturday night in Eureka. Really. Weekends don't mean much here, since if something breaks and that's your job, you have to fix it, regardless of the day/time. (This especially applies to the guy who looks after the power.) Sundays are the lazier day here, marked by the fact that breakfast is cancelled and brunch is served at 11. So the station staff treat it as a bit of a party night, and drinks are seved at the bar. The pool table is in full use, and everyone stays up until the wee hours of the morning. (Not to say that no drinking occurs on the other nights of the week, especially if it's someone's last night there...) In the past, our group has always ignored this fact and continued leaving for the station at 8 in the morning. When we arrived this time, the PEARL operators told us that we would leave after brunch, so we all got a sleep in morning. So we could fully partake in the Saturday night festivities. I learned how to play shuffleboard, not the old-person's game at the hotel in Florida, but the old-person's game on a table with couronne-like pucks. Pierre and I tied Kelly (met tech) and Oleg two games to two. Now that I know how to play we'll kick more ass next time.
The other exciting thing about being in Eureka this time around is the brand new station and accomodation. The past two summers have been a bit crazy here, as the new 13 million dollar facility has been built. It finally opened in September. It doesn't have quite the same charm as the old building (which was decorated like a 1960's basement, complete with wood panelling), but it is bigger and brighter. The bedrooms are huge, with plenty of room for me to do my pilates. (I swear I'll keep it up this year.) The staff now have their own private washrooms, so Kaley and I are left to share the "transient" women's washroom. One of the faucets still has that blue plastic protector stuff on the drain. It's shiny and new. They're still having a lot of growing pains, most of them a result of the fact that government contracts go to the lowest bidder, regardless of experience building in the high Arctic. Basically they built a building that would work fine in the south, but not so much here. The extra space is nice, but it takes a lot more energy to heat. The power generators keep overheating trying to keep up, and in the short time we've been here we've had three power outages. Which is three more than we've had any other year.
Measurement-wise things are going well. I got my spectrometer in its roof hatch this morning after a day of tests. They built a platform underneath the hatches over the summer, so I could do it all from the inside, without having to carry everything up on the roof and lower it in. I got my first spectra just before noon, and the spectrometer is happily clicking away now. So, after a few days of hectic-ness, I'm finally left to enjoy the quiet Arctic and the super-long sunrise. Pictures when the network is a bit less wonky.

I'm glad to hear winter's hit Toronto slightly, because damn it's cold out here. The wimpy winter we've had so far has not at all prepared me for even the -23 with windchill that Yellowknife is dishing out. I keep telling myself this is warm, but it isn't, and I am going to be cold come tomorrow and the final push north to Eureka.
95$ on taxis later and Tobias and I braved the cold and distance yesterday and checked out Whyte Avenue in Edmonton. We were trying to be all cool and "this isn't cold" and do some window shopping at the multiple cool stores, but in the end ended up hunkering down in an awesome tea shop while waiting to meet Vicky's sister for dinner. They had a giant wall of tea, and a very helpful guy to help us navigate. This was my whirlwind tour of wild rose country.
Today we flew to Yellowknife, diamond capital of North America. This is my first trip to the NWT, and leaves my list of provinces/territories not visited at two. (Though I might admit that Manitoba doesn't count.) It's a city of about 20 000, and SO different from Nunavut. For one, there's a lot of money here in diamonds and oil. We took a tour of the legislature (Kaley likes to collect them), and our awesome tour guide was super helpful with our ten thousand questions about the NWT. There's 11 official languages here. That's the biggest difference between here and Nunavut. (Or at least, the one that I've learned in my half day here.) There's really only one first nation there - the inuit - and so the government can easily promote traditional practices and customs. The school we visited in Resolute has even encorporated a lot of that into their curriculum. Here, with so much more diversity, the government can't very well promote one culture's values over another. As a result, the motivation to pass on the culture to the next generation has to be more community and family driven. I suppose this is probably a more traditional way of learning about your culture, but southern culture is pretty pervasive. Most kids would probably rather watch TV than learn their grandparents' language. Most of those 11 languages are in danger of dying out.
Digressions aside, Yellowknife is a really neat city, and I hope I can visit again. I had a buffalo steak for dinner. It would have been musx-ox, but they didn't have any in. Buffalo is pretty tasty too. The restaurant lets you sign the walls, so we of course left our campaign and CSA stickers, and I signed my name. Pictures to come when I get them from Tobias.
Tomorrow is the last leg of the journey, the eight hour trip to Eureka (with fuel stops in Cambridge Bay and Resolute). Our flight leaves at 7 in the morning, but they've promised a tasty lunch, so I might forgive them.

The trip north has begun, and Edmonton is welcoming us with a taste of what is to come. It's slightly scary that this will seem warm in a few days, but until then, please allow me my complaints. It's -33 with the wind chill, -22 without. It was zero when I left Toronto. Brr.
It occurred to me on the flight here that the first time I ever flew it was to Edmonton, and I haven't been back since. We spent the week at the mall, which was super-awesome to a nine-year old. Tonight, I think we'll try to check out some more grown-up friendly places, once we figure out how exactly to get downtown from the mecca of suburbia that Leduc appears to be.

In an effort to be the queen of the blogosphere (not pictured at left) before my trip up North, when the real blogging will begin, I am practicing this whole "posting" thing (read: procrastinating). I feel I have already mastered putting in pictures. And perhaps run-on sentences. Now I just need to master interesting things to say.