Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Weirdly, it seems, the closer you get to the end, the more your mind
and body rebel. That happened to me today.
I was in terrible pain as I trudged through the soft snow, having
to use both hands in places to drag a leg out of the snow and place it
down again in front of the other. Also, because the snow was so soft, I
was sinking much deeper than usual, and the snow and ice slipped in
through the top of my boots. My pants are designed to stop this hap-
pening, but they are also designed for skiing, not running—completely
different motions—and are torn and shredded around the calves from
the continuous rubbing.
Twenty kilometres from the pole, the support vehicle became
completely bogged in the soft snow, and the over-revving on an
already damaged and oil-leaking turbo charger caused the impeller
to overheat and seize. That was it. I did outlast the bloody vehicle.
That six-wheel drive truck, which was plagued with problems right
from the start, was left behind like a wounded and dying mammoth,
half-buried in the snow. Scotty remained with it and was eventually
rescued by staff members at the South Pole station. Eric and Ming
took skidoos ahead and used them to make my path through the
snow.
As I trudged the last 5 kilometres, I saw two lone skiers closing in
on the pole from another direction. Eric went ahead to meet them and
returned with the news that it was Johan Ernst Nilson from Sweden
and his crew, who were also travelling from pole to pole—sailing, dog-
sledding, skiing and biking their way down—and with whom I shared
a helicopter ride a world away, back at the North Pole. Amazingly, we
were simultaneously closing in on the finish line. He had been given
the same instructions as me: to leave the mainland at the point he had
reached by late December, do the South Pole leg, then return to finish
his trek to the bottom of Argentina.
As Johan and I rounded the ALE hangar, for both of us, me running
and him skiing, the pain, discomfort and negativity were overwhelmed
by our competitive streak to reach the pole first. Eric picked up on
what was going through my mind when he saw that I had dramati-
cally increased my pace. He drove the skidoo back alongside me and
yelled, 'Come on, we can beat them! Push it!' And I did. After more
than 19,000 kilometres, I sprinted to the pole with a dome on top that
marks the official South Pole. The staff of the US science base and the
