LOO-JW - Alone in Antarctica: The First Woman to Ski Solo Across the Southern Ice - page 48

shoulders of other mountains. Kelly Nunatak, which had been
a dirty smudge at the foot of the peaks ahead, revealed itself,
mile by mile, as a heap of dark stone with streaks of rock dust
spreading like a stain of black ink in the snow beneath it.
Similarly, a feature that had been visible at the start as a small
blemish on the horizon gradually grew into Marsh Ridge, a
prominent protrusion of vivid auburn rock stretching out from
the line of mountains. Its transformation provided a pleasing
measure of my progress towards it. Most of my ski journeys
in the past had been across featureless plateaus of white so it
was a novelty to have such a constant measure of scale and
movement.
Each mile brought something new, allowing me to peer
between buttresses to see short valleys blocked by cataracts of
ice, or glimpse sheer rock faces draped with hanging gardens
of snow blocks. It was an endless conveyor belt of natural
spectacle. I could feel myself rushing, pushing forward, eager
for the next display. I couldn't help my gaze flicking forward,
searching the crags for any sign of the narrow corridor that
would allow me through the mountains to the plateau beyond.
Several times I was sure I could detect a gap, a slight cleft that
looked as if it could lead to a route southward, but each time I
came upon the head of the suspected corridor it would turn out
to be something else. I was taut with impatience even though I
knew from my maps that the gap in the mountains used by the
Leverett was some twenty kilometres further along and would
be beyond my view for at least another day. It was futile to try
and predict its place in the pleats of rock. It would appear in
its own time.
I diverted my mind to other matters, carefully avoiding all
thoughts of home, the journey ahead or anything else that