AGAP-SOUTH CAMP, ANTARCTICA– On January 6th, we sat around after dinner discussing how miraculous it was that nothing had gone wrong. This clearly was the cosmic queue for everything to go wrong in the next 27 hours.

First, the inverter blew. The inverter supplies power for the scientific equipment in the plane. Without it, the gravimeter has no blinking lights and collects no data. This flight holds the current record for the shortest flight out of AGAP-south. Beth Burton noticed the lack of power and quickly turned SJB around.

A KBA mechanic works on the left engine of SJB. The plane has been getting a lot of attention lately.

The very next flight, we lost the plane’s tip tanks. In addition to fuel stored near the belly of the plane, there are also gas tanks in the wings. These tip tanks add about 15 minutes of flying capability to any flight out of AGAP and were essential to meeting some of our distant science targets. It was particularly frightening that these pumps malfunctioned when we were considering flying the Recovery Lake lines, which require the use of the plane’s normal tank, the auxillary tank we installed back in McMurdo and the tip tanks.

Finally, in a third stroke of bad luck, we lost the onboard GPS. Without information from our Global Positioning System, we can collect data but we have no idea where we are along the survey line. We know the data represents the Earth… but where on Earth?

Thinking bad things come in 3’s might lead one to believe these would be the end of our troubles but the worst was yet to come. Next the “command center” of the radar system went out. It is as if you were using your home computer and suddenly, you could not see your hard drive anymore. You wouldn’t be able to save new documents, or play your favorite game. It is a situation best described by “Lights on but no one’s home”. Our science team discovered this problem just after I had gotten up for my “night shift” duties. Nick was able to replace the command center and we were still able to fly that day.

Later, in the radar processing, we saw strong vertical offset of the ice sheets internal layers and the bed that lies below. Nick and I set out to investigate this problem by examining an individual radar file from Flight 35, which seemed to be when the problem started. In the end, it turned out that after replacing the radar’s command center, the settings for channel 1 of the radar had been reset but the others (channel 2, 3 and 4) were not set correctly. This was a happy answer to the problem since it meant that we could rescue the data from flights 35-40 if we used channel 1. Not having worked as long or as hard on this project as either Nick, Michael or the PIs at times I feel like the hired help or the free loader who came along because she wanted to be in East Antarctic Field Camp with a population of 31. When I contributed to figuring out why the radar was malfunctioning, that increased my feeling of self worth. I had a moment in which I felt instrumental to ensuring the data quality… not just the making of copies.

A typical radar data product. The bright red line is the surface of mountains under the ice.

This is what the radar looked like after the radar’s command center broke. Fortunately we found the source of this problem and will later be able to recover this data.

Despite all the unfortunate events, the survey has gone well and, I have to say it has gone by fast. It’s hard to believe that we only need 4 more days of good weather to complete our science objectives. It’s hard to put your faith in good weather to make plans for going home but we don’t have much choice. Here’s hoping for clear skies!

A clear day at AGAP-South. This is just the kind of weather we need to complete the survey.

AGAP-SOUTH CAMP, ANTARCTICA– Once we began flying at AGAP, we quickly got into a routine of collecting data, downloading, archiving and running a quality control procedure. We are operating 24 hours a day in two teams. There is almost always someone at the computer copying or reviewing data. Though there have been days that have been flawless, our peak performance of 4 flights per days has been interrupted by weather, which was particularly bad around the New Year.

Life at AGAP revolves around the forecast… which is not always the actual weather. The weather determines if we’ll be allowed to get off the ground and which direction we can point our airplane, SJB. Assuming the weather cooperates, a day in the science tent follows a certain rhythm, paced by the arrival and departure of SJB.

The GAMSEIS science team posed for a group photo before departing AGAP-South.

The day begins with the rising of our day shift operators, Nick and Michael. They pop into the science tent eager to know how things went the night before. The flight plan for that morning has usually been selected a day or two in advance. On the morning of the flight, it is relayed to the pilots and our flight operator, the scientist who makes sure all our equipment is up and running before and during the flight.

Thirty minutes before we leave the ground, our base stations have to be on. Base stations collect a similar type of data as equipment on the plane, but are in a fixed position just outside our science tent. We have base stations for the GPS and magnetic data. The GPS base station is required so we know where the plane is relative to camp. The magnetic base station is needed to capture how the magnetic field is varying in time, while SJB’s onboard system captures how the magnetic field varies in space. The Earth’s magnetic field varies in time in part because of currents in the liquid part of the core of the Earth (i.e. the liquid outer core). The magnetic field varies in space because of different rock types under the ice. By collecting data at the base station and onboard SJB, we are able to separate the changes in time, which we are not studying, from the changes in space which relate to the rocks we see on the radar lines.

Pondering GPS data in the Science Tent.

While SJB is in the air, we are in the office making copies of the data. This is particularly time consuming for the radar data because of its volume. Copying the radar drives takes so long that we have one computer and one person, Chris, designated to the task. After the radar copy is complete, a sampling of the data is plotted and reviewed. Meanwhile, similar procedures are executed on the magnetic, GPS and laser data from the previous night’s flight. Although not an exciting aspect of the work, the QC (quality control) step is essential. It is during this step we identify survey lines that might need to be reflown and also get a sense of how well our system is working.

Working in the science tent again… This actually a different day! Note the eery similarities.

When the plane returns, it is greeted by a flurry of activity. The camp staff are ready to refuel, Chris or Nick will take blank hard drives out to the airplane and swap them for the ones containing the radar data for the flight, Stefan and Dan check on the status of the gravimeter. The flight operator brings in written logs and data on memory cards to archive and copy. The plane only sits unattended in between the day and night shift, while the whole camp is having dinner or on bad weather days.

The pace of the survey makes the days go by quickly. I keep forgetting that the GAMSEIS team is done with their work and gone already! I still expect them to come back from an installation and be sitting in the galley at dinner. With 4 flights a day, we are just barely keeping up with the in-flux of data, which is good because you need something to do in this place or you’ll feel trapped. Fortunately, I never feel trapped when surrounded by science!

AGAP-SOUTH CAMP, ANTARCTICA– There are finally planes in the airspace of AGAP-South! We flew our first survey lines during the transit of scientists from Pole to our main camp. With the first flight, came the first observation of peaked bedrock under relatively thin ice. Thus far the radar shows the bedrock to be about 1.8 miles below the ice sheet surface and its elevation varies in some regions by up to half a mile. Hard to believe that just under this endless expanse of ice there are mountains. It’s such a secretive part of the world.

While our research group is here doing an airborne survey, another group based out of Penn State University is installing and servicing seismometers. The airborne side is called GAMBIT while the seismic side is called GAMSEIS. Together we are the AGAP project and the occupants of AGAP-South.

View across AGAP-South at one of the rare times when both planes are grounded.

Unlike the work I am here to do, GAMSEIS is a multi-year project that began last year. Over the course of the project, whenever there is a large enough earthquake, waves of energy will pass through the earth and be recorded at the GAMSEIS seismic stations. The GAMSEIS group will return and collect their seismometers along with the record of seismic events. Using those data, they’ll be able to piece together the story underlying the Gamburtsev Subglacial Mountains. We’ll better understand how the mountains were built and the nature of the mantle, the molten layer of Earth, that lies below.

This is the inside of the Jamesway tent where the scientists sleep. It’s hot, crowded but somehow still a welcome change from being outdoors.

The weather on Christmas Day forced us to take a break and enjoy the holiday. Both science teams were grounded due to low visibility caused by blowing snow coming out of the South. Despite our 24-hour schedule, dinner at AGAP is the meal most of our population of 42 actually are awake and present to eat. It falls right between the morning flight and evening flight for both science groups and those working the night shift have usually just gotten up. Although one of the cooks is suffering a rib injury, Christmas Dinner was a meal to be reckoned with. It was also a great chance for the whole camp to relax and get to know each other individually rather than categorically as science, flight crew, or staff.

For me part of the holiday excitement was that those of us on the GAMBIT side got to share some of our first data products! We’ve waiting a long time to see these radar profiles with plenty of peaks! The days ahead hold a lot of the same, but there are still firsts and discoveries to be made. I wonder when we will find the biggest mountain peaks and the biggest lake!

Because being at high altitude can make some people sick, the science team has to be trained on multiple parts of the airplane’s science equipment.

During June this year, we tested our radar system in Greenland. We flew over the Greenland Ice Sheet, collecting data to image the ice down to 2.5 km (1.6 miles) below the lake-spotted surface. Now in Antarctica, we face the challenge of imaging more than 4 km of ice…. That’s 2.5 miles of frozen history between our science team and the Gamburtsev Mountains we came here to study! Because we have to reach further into the ice, we have more data than ever coming back after each flight. There’s so much data that the system chokes on it and gasps, “Help me, Adrienne. Help!”

I have escaped the office a few times this week. I got to go on a tour of the pressure ridges that form between the flowing ice of the Ross Ice Shelf and the rock that stands firm against it. And just last night, I escaped to Scott Base, the Antarctic Base that belongs to New Zealand, for some retail therapy. My Scott Excursion really took my mind off of the software for a while and had me refreshed and ready to go back to Radar World this morning. Not to mention I am well stocked on wooly base layers to fight the cold.

View of Scott Base from the Pressure Ridges.

An interesting formation in the Pressure Ridges. What do you think it looks like?

Today, I feel the same way I do when I am at the top of the big hill at the beginning of the ride. There’s that moment when you lift off your seat before powering down the steep hill, screaming your head off. I have been living there, in that emotional suspension for 3 days. Part of my jitteriness the last few days is undoubtedly rooted in the fact I’ll be going to the South Pole on Monday. According to our medical briefing, that means I’ll be perpetually short of breath, having trouble sleeping and going to the bathroom about every 20 minutes for 2 days…. The anticipation is almost too much to hold in! I have been to 10,000ft elevation before but that was after living at 6,500ft above sea level for 5 weeks… and that was in Utah. The transition from sea level here in McMurdo to 10,000ft is such a surprise to the system that everyone is prescribed a medication to help our bodies adjust to the lower oxygen levels. On top of that, we all have to fight off the adrenaline brought on by the fact we’re in Antarctica, at The South Pole, at 10,000ft—no offense to Utah, but it doesn’t compare! Just in case we don’t adjust to the elevation, everyone has been learning tasks outside their specialty. Hopefully, if someone gets sick, we’ll be able to keep the science moving forward, even if at a slower pace.

In the end, it’s not just where we’ll be a week from now. It’s what we’ll learn. The Gamburtsev Mountains have been enigmatic since their happenstance discovery in 1958. Soon, we’ll know them in a way only dreamt of until now. The people on this science team will learn more about the Mountains than the rest of the world has compiled in the last 50 years. This is the Eve of Discovery.

We have completed the familiar routine of sorting through two large orange bags of clothes. I am glad I packed alternatives to the four pairs of wool tube socks I received. I am both groggy from the jet lag and concerned about delayed traverses missing aircraft certifications and dented fuel drums. My achy back makes me fidget. The feeling in my stomach is similar to what you feel in the hours before you cast off the lines from the dock to sail across an ocean. Your head is racing plans, alternative plans and worries but time is running out. Tomorrow morning the lines will be cast off and the focus will be on the here and now.

The Gamburtsev Mountains beneath the ice.

This project to study the Gamburtsev Mountains is the biggest I have ever helped put together. For almost eight years we have been puzzling over the logistics of how to get to this hidden mountain range hidden beneath the largest ice sheet on our planet. They are completely covered with ice. Not a single craggy peak sticks up out of the ice sheet. They are tall – rising about 9000 feet above the surrounding terrain. This means the Gamburtsev Mountains tower over the Appalachians and are about as high as the Alps. They are wide – hundreds of miles wide. If a well-maintained highway cut across them it would take the better part of a day to cross them. But alas there is no highway.

The AGAP Project logo.

We have assembled a multinational team for the International Polar Year from six nations. We developed an expedition consisting of three small scientifically equipped aircraft with over 25 scientists and engineers. But we only have a very short seven weeks when the weather is warm enough to work in. Warm enough means the temperature is warmer than -50 degrees C.

Much has to happen before we can start “doing science”. The two field camps have to be constructed and the fuel to fly the aircraft and heat the buildings has to be delivered. Parts of the plan are beginning to change already. The British plans are delayed due to paperwork and the traverse has had trouble with the crevasses.

One of the partially built AGAP field camps.

The lines for this expedition have been cast from the dock. The here and now has arrived.

At first glance, Antarctica seems to turn a cold shoulder to geologists. How do you study minerals and landforms on a continent that’s almost entirely covered by ice? But dauntless geologists are using a full range of tricks to peer under the ice . . . and what they’re finding is a big surprise.

A Twin Otter aircraft casts its shadow as it emits ice-penetrating radar waves. These waves reflect off the bedrock back to the aircraft revealing information about the geology beneath the ice.

A map of the mountains beneath the ice.

Take the apparently flattish slab of ice that is east Antarctica. Hiding beneath is a mountain range to rival the Himalayas, a range known as the Gamburtsev Mountains. These mountains are completely buried by ice, but their presence was first signaled by telltale wobbles in the strength of gravity measured from above.

What’s most surprising about this hidden mountain range is that, by all rights, it shouldn’t be there. East Antarctica is understood to be an ancient continental shield, a stable, unchanging plateau at the center of a tectonic plate, far from the mountain-building phenonena—such as volcanoes and plate collisions—that occur at plate boundaries. The presence of a mountain range in the middle of a continental shield like east Antarctica is, geologically, astounding. Says geologist Robin Bell, “It’s almost as if an archeologist in Egypt opened up a tomb and found an astronaut inside.”

Bell hopes to solve the mystery of the Gamburtsev range using data from roughly 200 flyovers, including radar signals (which penetrate through ice to create an image of the land surface beneath), magnetic measurements, gravity measurements, and laser sounding of the surface ice. This massive data collection effort, called the GAMBIT project, should yield the clues necessary for Bell and other Antarctic geologists to figure out when—and how—the Gamburtsev Mountains formed.

Sediment coring is another method scientists use to study the geology of Antarctica. Analyzing cores like these—from the ANDRILL project on the West Antarctic Ice Sheet—helps scientists understand Antarctica’s past climate and geologic history.

POLENET researchers have to find exposed rock to place their high-precision GPS units. The units are powered by solar panels during the summer and wind generators and batteries during the polar darkness.

Western Antarctica—younger and more geologically active than its eastern counterpart—holds its own share of mysteries. One stands out in literal stark relief: the Transantarctic Mountains. This craggy rock spine erupts from the ice in a line that marks the boundary between east and west Antarctica. The range seems to be associated with a period of rifting—stretching of the earth’s crust—that began in west Antarctica 180 million years ago, and may or may not be ongoing. Data from the POLENET project, mainly from seismic and GPS sensors drilled into coastal bedrock, will help establish whether rifting continues in west Antarctica. “I’m sure that when we get these instruments in place, there are going to be a lot of surprises,” says POLENET geologist Terry Wilson.

Already, GPS data have confirmed that Antarctica is rising (geologists say “rebounding”) from the loss of ice during the last ice age, which ended 12,000 years ago. The land itself is rising just a few millimeters a year. This may seem slight but it’s still enough to significantly impact calculations of the changing thickness of ice sheets. Scientists the world over are watching the Antarctic and Greeland ice sheets with keen interest, because as they melt in response to global warming, global sea level will rise, wiping out coastal communities.

The fate of the ice sheets may rest, literally, on what’s underneath them. Research by Slawek Tulaczyk and others suggests that the motion of ice sheets depends on interactions between the ice and the rock below. Lakes of melted water under the glaciers may reduce friction and cause ice sheets to flow faster to the sea. Meanwhile, the breakup of ice shelves around Antarctica means fewer buttresses to hold back ice sheets from advancing rapidly into the sea.

The Transantarctic Mountains.