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 |  Day 1 Location: Crozier Strait
We see a lot of bear tracks-- |
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It was already 9:00 A.M., a cold sunny, clear day, and I wanted to take advantage of the weather to ski as
many mites as possible. After last-minute photos and good-byes, I stepped from the ice-covered land onto the
glistening white blanket of ice covering the black wakers of Crozier Strait between the east coast of Bathurst Island and the west coast of Little Cornwallis Island.
Straining to look into the distance, I could see no sign of the bear and her cubs in that vast white expanse. That I thought ruefully, is why polar bears are white, The first quarter mile of shoreline was a rough mass of icy pinnacles, some jutting upward ten feet high broken and jumbled by the persistent rise and fall of the tides that sigh and groan beneath the great weight they lift. After a few yards I realized it was too rough to ski. I laid my skis on top of the sled and began to pull it by hand through the narrow gaps in the ice. Then I went back to help Charlie pull his sled. I kept pulling and tugging, searching ahead for gaps wide enough to pull my sled through without jamming. Still in sight of the mine I noticed with relief that my well-wishers were beginning to return to their jobs. I had hoped to begin my expedition with a grand dashing start, skiing off into the distance in impressive style. Instead the ice seemed to be doing its best to make my forward progress slow and difficult. A few more yards of pulling and tugging and I could see where the jumbled shoreline ice met the sea ice. Ten more feet and Charlie and I were through. I was rewarded by the glorious sight of smooth white shimmering ice, streaked with ridges up to six inches high called sastrugi and separated by patches of hard-packed snow. Once on the smoother ice I donned my skis and sled harness checked Charlie's harness and skied off. |