Ben Saunders

Simply pushing.

— Filed under Aside

Here's to Anousheh Ansari!

— Filed under Aside

The perils of home surgery

I cut the index finger of my right hand really badly last week – right down to the knuckle. Naturally, I did the manly thing and stuck a plaster on it. If only I knew then what I know now:

Bring the edges of the wound together by stickingplaster, without any delay, keep the part perfectly at rest, bleed, purge, and live very low, to prevent inflammation. Should it come on, it must be met at its first approach by bleeding or leeching to as great an extent as the condition of the patient will warrant. If a permanent stiffening of the joint seems likely to ensue, keep the limb in that position which will prove most useful; that is, the leg should be extended, and the arm bent at the elbow. Wounds of joints are always highly dangerous, and frequently terminate in death.

Cripes.
(From the 1882 Household Cyclopedia , link found at 43Folders)

— Filed under Miscellany

Calamity (expedition anecdote #1)

9th May 2004. Two days before I reached the North geographic Pole. I'd forgotten the date (thankfully my digital camera date-stamped the photo) but the day will live with me forever. I'd skied through some pretty crazy conditions in the preceding couple of months, but this day really took the biscuit.

The morning started well. It was quite warm (-8° c.) with poor visibility, but there was little sign of the broken ice and open water that had plagued my journey so far and I skied along in a pretty good mood. Just before midday, I spotted what I thought was a very large area of water sky (the dark appearance of the underside of a cloud layer when it is over a surface of open water) but when the water didn't appear, after an hour or so, I decided it must just be a patch of dark cloud.

Nope. Tucked away behind a big ridge was one of the most smashed up areas of ice I've ever come across; essentially a giant lead, running east to west and well over 100 metres wide, with slushy, floating 'islands' of ice and snow, and a huge area of 'rubble' ice on the far side. The picture (click for hi-res) probably gives a better idea of the conditions.

The lead ran from horizon to horizon and the ice was so broken up that I knew skiing east or west would be impossible – I had to cross it, and I had two choices: to climb into the drysuit and swim, or to try and link up a few of the 'islands' as stepping stones. I went with plan b and spent a crazy 40 minutes or so working my way across, often jumping from one bobbing lump to the next, and twice using my sledge as a bridge. As I neared the North side, everything started moving. The noise was the scariest bit – it started with a 'tick tick tickticktick' and then 'CRUMP' (like the muffled impact of an artillery shell) 'CRUMP-CRUMP'. Billions of tons of ice versus the currents of a 14 million square mile ocean. With my heart pounding, I tried to pick a route through the rubble and slush. My foot slipped, and I found my leg wedged knee-deep between two blocks of ice… 'CRUMP'… Momentarily, I felt the pressure of the ice increase – not enough to hurt me, but enough to give me a fright, like a Rottweiler giving the provocative child a salutary nip. Afterwards, I reflected that I had never felt so small, or so powerless. At the time, I was shitting myself.
'When any calamity has been suffered, the first thing to be remembered is how much has been escaped'.
- Samuel Johnson

— Filed under Inspiration

I'm just off out for a walk.

— Filed under Aside