LOO-JW - Alone in Antarctica: The First Woman to Ski Solo Across the Southern Ice - page 57

my solo pitching routine to try and lessen the risk of the tent
blowing away during the process. I had even added a safety
line so that I could clip the tent to my sledges or to myself until
I was sure it was securely anchored. I drilled myself relentlessly
so that the new routine became habit. One of my greatest fears
was that in a moment of carelessness an unexpected gust of
wind would snatch my tent away and I would be left without
shelter, helpless against the perishing climate. But in the face
of the winds that now surged around me, I was more worried
that during the inevitable struggle with the tent my precious
home would get damaged so badly that it would be useless.
Without a tent my expedition would be over and I would be
left exposed to the storm in a dangerous predicament.
I glanced around me at the narrow, steeply sloping glacier
and realised for the irst time that even in an emergency
situation, it was highly unlikely a plane would be able to
land anywhere near me and certainly not in these winds. I
had seen the monumental logistical effort it had taken to get
me to this 'wrong side' of Antarctica. I didn't imagine that a
repeat performance of the light across the continent from the
basecamp at Union Glacier could be organised easily. With
a heavy weight of dread in my stomach it became clear just
how alone I truly was. Even if I used the satellite phone in
my jacket pocket to call for an emergency evacuation, help
would not be with me for a scarily long time. In the UK we
have become used to the reassurance of Emergency Services
and Search and Rescue teams, so that even when I have been
alone in wilderness areas I have had the subconscious comfort
of knowing that someone would be there to help me if I got
into trouble. Now, I felt stripped of all safety nets. Whatever
happened on this glacier, there would be nobody coming to