Bald-Headed Men - Alone in Antarctica: The First Woman to Ski Solo Across the Southern Ice - page 150

I wouldn't have got far enough by the time we were upon each
other to wave gracefully from a distance. I laughed at myself.
Here I was in the emptiest wilderness on Earth, having not seen
another living being for a week, plotting how to circumvent
meeting the last humans I was likely to see in a month or more.
It was taking my British reserve to new extremes. I stopped
and hurriedly wiped the frozen snot, dribble and condensed
breath from the outside of my mask, even squeezing a gloved
finger beneath the ice-hard material to check I didn't have the
remnants of chocolate and snacks all over my face. By the time I
looked up, the two skiers were so close that I could pick out the
names printed on the front of their jackets; 'Cas' and 'Jonesy'. I
knew immediately who they were. We'd never met but I'd heard
of two Australian adventurers who had set out for the South
Pole from the same coast I was now heading for myself.
'Hello!' one of them bellowed from a distance.
'Hello!' I shouted back as a huge, excited grin spread across
my face under my mask.
When we drew close there were no introductions. I threw my
arms around them both and they seemed just as enthusiastic
to see me. They each towed enormous sledges which I noticed
were almost empty and although both wore goggles and face
masks, from the skin that was visible I could see that they had
been exposed to Antarctica for a long time. As Cas spoke, the
sores on his badly chapped lips broke open and started to
bleed. Jonesy's nose was frostbitten at the tip and I noticed that
condensed moisture had frozen over the scabs forming a small
icicle. They were both in good spirits despite being obviously
exhausted and it felt like a meeting of old friends rather than
a chance encounter with strangers. They were eager for news
of the Pole.