Life Raft - Alone in Antarctica: The First Woman to Ski Solo Across the Southern Ice - page 128

to the Pole. No longer was I confined to following the 132
degrees west line of longitude to oblige station rules and I was
struck by an invigorating sense of freedom. This part of my
journey had greater footfall but ironically it was here that I felt
most uninhibited because I was free to choose any direction
I pleased. This was the feeling I had imagined when gazing
down at the crinkled surface of Antarctica from the plane
all those weeks ago. Sudden but lasting exhilaration seemed
to flow into my muscles, making them feel strengthened and
inexhaustible. It was impossible to imagine, in that moment,
that my body would ever cease to move forward. I felt like I
could keep going for ever.
I don't know when exactly I noticed that my shadow was
missing. Usually it hovered ahead of me through the day,
moving from my right elbow to my left as the hours progressed
but now that I skied north it was gone. When the thought that
had been growing reached the front of my brain, I spun round
in curiosity. Sure enough my shadow now lagged behind.
I turned back to the sun and considered it suspiciously. My
mind balked at trying to fathom the spherical trigonometry
involved but there was no denying that the sun had changed
its apparent position in the sky. Whereas before it had hovered
always at the periphery of my vision on one side or the other,
it now blazed up ahead like the brightest of street lights on the
darkest of nights. I smiled. Swapping my shadow for the sun
couldn't be anything but a fair deal. I liked the idea of skiing
towards this eternal symbol of brightness and optimism. The
sun on my face made Antarctica seem charmingly friendly that
day, aided by the fact that the wind was no more than the
lightest of breezes. It left a stillness so quiet that the sussurance
of my skis cutting through the light surface snow sounded as