Munchy Bags

Before the trip we were told to pack mounds of high calorific foods for our munchy bags which we'd munch on every hour. This was an open invitation to eat whatever we wanted over the twelve days trek. 'A girl's fantasy!' one of the women said. Clearly, on an Arctic expedition it was essential to 'Get those calories in' to ensure one had loads of energy to walk at least 10 miles a day over icy terrain. Most of my life I admit I've been victim to the calorie counting culture so this was a wonderful opportunity. For once, I could eat as many calories as I wanted as opposed to cutting calories. So, I dreamed up the most delicious munchy bag ever. I bought dairy milk chocolate brazil nuts, toblerone, chocolate raisins, Terry's chocololate orange segments, matchmakers and some chocolate Kendal mint cake. I found some exotic dried fruit, honey roasted cashew nuts, salted peanuts, dried kiwi and apricots. Little did I know that after two days of this stuff I would want to retch every time I reached into the bag. Is it really possible to eat too much chocolate? Yes. Honestly. It wasn't long before I found myself salivating over everyone else's munchy bags. For example, I have never in my life had a craving for pork scratchings, and suddenly in the High Arctic I am dreaming of the stuff. The more fattening the better. Malt loaf and butter. Yum yum. Someone actually had the foresight to put some in their munchy bag. Now, that is precisely the kind of food you want after clambering up an iced waterfall in minus 25. Not a chocolate brazil nut. Before long, we all found ourselves swapping treats from our Munchy Bags. My brother even packed jelly babies. Delicious. Sadly, he had a sore throat for a few days and was unable to eat the chunks of chocolate in his munchy bag so I did my best to help him. He thought the sore throat was frostbite of the throat but he was unable to prove this. He lost a stone in weight during the trek which was pretty impressive.
I'm not saying how much weight I lost - yet, but the main benefit has been discovering muscles I never knew existed and feeling fitter than I've ever done. That means there are plenty of good reasons to go on an Arctic Expedition. To name a few, 1) You get to eat whatever you want 2) You tone up 3) You feel fit 4) You can never complain of feeling cold again 5) You can let your imagination go wild. When you walk for long periods of time with only your own thoughts, it's a recipe for madness. As I crunched past snowy coated rocks they reminded me of chocolate muffins covered in icing sugar. When I looked in the distance and saw several members of the group dressed in red windproof outfits, walking across a glacier lake, I thought of strawberries in a meringue case with whipped cream. Mmmmm.

No Mobiles, No Washing

The moment we landed in Iqaluit we were wandering around in a state of Arctic Shock. Firstly, the freezing cold air literally took your breath away, and secondly, our mobile phones didn't work. I could see the shocked expressions on people's faces as they checked their phones. Not least my brother's! He is usually tied to his mobile phone. The funny thing is, he says I'm always on my mobile, but I can assure you he is ALWAYS on his mobile. The fact he is a 'senior police officer' means the sort of calls he takes are usually 'Top Secret'. He usually walks several feet behind me when he's on the phone and I respect the distance. What else can I do? He could be talking to a Hit Man! Well, in Iqaluit, it was the first time since mobile phones were invented, that we've spent time together without a mobile phone getting inbetween us. He looked at his phone and shook his head. A day later he was still convinced the phone was ringing or vibrating in his pocket. This is what you call MPA (Mobile Phone Addiction). Being in the Arctic was a big challenge. For all those addicted to mobile phones it was a bigger challenge.
Within a day, the other bizarre realisation I had was - I did 'No Washing'. Having two young children means I am always putting washing loads on. Well, on our trek there were a) no washing machines (phew) and b) no washing. I have to admit while away I didn't think a moment about the state of the laundry basket, but now back at home I am always wishing there was nothing in it. Like most women in the country. Back to the personal hygiene. Several people have asked me about this. How did you clean yourself? Well, we didn't wash for 12 days. Fact. We had no showers or baths. Did we smell? Yes. Except no-one admitted it. We were told not to use deodorants as this would clog our pores up. But, I caught one of my fellow trekkers rolling it on one morning and felt a stab of jealousy. I have one big confession. I took some Clarins lotions as a 'feel good factor' but they froze! One night, one kind man defrosted them in a pot of boiling water and I squished the hand lotion into my nearly defrosted fingers. I can't tell you just how good it felt. It may have been be minus 30, wind chill 50, but there's nothing like a little pampering to lift your spirits!

Footprints on the Snow

We hit the first slush on the trip early on. Day Two. This scared a few members of the group - me included. We then walked on solid ice. Crunch, crunch, crunch. How do you trust it won't crack and you disappear with your sledge pulling you down, down down? You just have to trust. We walked in a line. Occasionally, someone would turn around and say, 'Big hole there!' and you'd walk around a dip in the ice. Once or twice, or maybe three times, I fell down into the ice up to my knee. Thankfully, the ice didn't get into my boots - or I might have got a frostbitten toe. Ouch! Even so, it took your breath away every time it happened. I was then advised to walk in someone else's footprints so I started doing this - when we were on the sort of snow you could see foortprints. Being the smallest in the group, I had trouble keeping up with old Big Foot - whoever he was. He certainly had long legs and big feet! However, there is something VERY reassuring about walking in someone else's footprints - or snowprints. Once I built up some confidence in simply walking on ice I looked around me at the scenery. Breathtaking - is the only word I can use to describe it. My sunglasses steamed up, so I peered out over them. It was like I had suddenly been transported to the Ice Age - and we were the remaining survivors - struggling to find civilisation. Okay, it may sound dramatic, but after walking for ten hours a day I found my imagination did get carried away. The guide book said we would 'encvounter many remainders of the ice age and its continuing efects' so it wasn't just my imagination. We saw glaciers, rock debris spread across the valley floor, all types of moraines, boulders...and lots more. I was looking around in awe trying to memorise the landscape and think of ways of describing it. Then, when I missed my step and fell flat on the ice, I realised I had to concentrate on walking on all the different sorts of ice and snow we encountered. Inside my head I was singing that Police song, Every Breath You Take: 'Every breath you take, Every move you make, Every bond you break, Every step you take, Ill be watching you...' Other people said they sang to themselves too. Maybe it had something to do with the rhythm of walking? Maybe I was going mad?

Arctic Shivers

Since I've returned a lot of people have been asking me just how cold it was. Thanks to Ed, one of our great guides, I have a record of each day's temperature, so instead of saying, 'It was freeezzzing' I can be specific. For example, on March 31 when we walked along the Broughton Channel it was minus 20 with a 30 knot wind and overnight it was minus 25. In other words, it was Chilly Chops! In my diary, I managed to scribble, 'Woke up at 4.45 am and decided to go outside for the coldest pee of my life. I returned to the tent convinced my fingers were about to drop off. Picture frozen ice pops. I had a cup of tea and a bag of mueseli which everyone tried to get me to finish. We put on skiis for the first time and set off at 6.30 am.'
Everyone keeps asking me what the rehydrated food was like. Well, we melted ice and poured water into these bags of dried stuff and stirred it round with a spoon for about five minutes. I know you need calories in the Arctic but it was hard forcing myself to eat a bag of mueseli at 5 am. It tasted okay but I just wan't hungry at that time in the morning. To be honest, I tend to skip breakfast, but the boys wouldn't let me get away with it, telling me to 'Get those calories in.'
Now, I've touched on the practical matters of popping outside for a quick pee in the morning. Well, as those who've been reading this blog know, I went to great lengths to buy a Lady Jane and Little John pee device, which, if I felt confident or cold enough, would allow me to pee into a bottle inside my sleeping bag in the tent. I know this sounds uncivilised and inhumane but the boys were peeing into their pee bottles from day one and then chucking the contents out of the tent as if it was the most natural thing in the world. At night, you had to be careful where you looked. Before long, an Arctic veteran took me aside and advised me to stop messing around by going outside for a wee and told me to get to grips with my Lady Jane. This was a seminal moment. I was as cold as I'd ever been and as desperate for a pee as I'd ever been. I asked the boys to talk among themselves, I knelt on the ground in my sleeping bag, tucked my Lady Jane and Little Jane in the strategic position and prayed that I would not miss. Lo behold, Allelulia, I did it! I no longer had to dash outside minus 25 and freeze my butt off. The boys didn't appear to take any notice as they talked among themselves. I came to the conclusion that there was a certain amount of Arctic Etiquette. We were all living in such close conditions yet people did respect each other's space. The odd problem arose. For example, one member of the group accused another of stealing his pee bottle. The accused denied it vehemently clutching onto the pee bottle, only to discover his own pee bottle in his stuff bag the following morning. Oops! He was caught well and truly red handed.
Despite all these hardships there were many highs. In my diary I wrote, 'Today, out of the tent I have a stunning view of the mountains, but Susanna said, 'You Aint Seen Nothing Yet'.' Susanna had traversed the park three times so she knew what she was talking about - and I wasn't disappointed. In the next blog I will tell you why....

Arctic Belle Returns To Blighty

I'm back, but have been suffering from Arctic Shock in reverse. I returned on Friday, all digits intact. I wanted to update everyone on my expedition immediately but somehow two children and hundreds of emails got in the way. Also, if I'm honest, I didn't know where to start. So much happened in so few days - twelve to be exact. I travelled to the other side of the world and walked 150 miles across dangerous icy terrain. I guess I was also very tired! I experienced the most extreme conditions I have ever known. To give you an idea, I'm talking fffffffffffffffffffreeeeeeeeeezzzzzing cold and very windy. So cold, the thermometers didn't work. Okay, for all those who want hard facts, I'm talking an average of minus 25. Yikes! Even the organiser said he hadn't expected the temperatures to be this cold. My fingers nearly dropped off - honest. If it wasn't for chemical handwarmers I would be digitless! In truth, if it wasn't for my team mates then I wouldn't be here today. When I was shivering and hyperventilating in my tent someone (my brother) calmed me down. When my thumbs were ice pops someone stopped and rubbed them. When my sledge was too heavy someone lightened the load. When I felt like crying someone made me giggle. And then the giggling took over...and the trip became one extraordinary giggle and an adventure of a lifetime. What else can you do but laugh in such circumstances? When the wind chill was minus 40 you have to take shelter. A harsh but beautiful environment. Every day, my eyelashes were coated in ice and my hair had clumps of ice hanging off it. Every day, I saw a new pattern in the ice, a different shade of ice: blue ice, grey ice, bright silky white ice, chunks of blue ice, ice sculptures. Amazing light. Clear blue skies and crystal clear light. I have never seen such a beautiful bright light before. My sunglasses and goggles steamed over, but I still peered out in complete astonishment. It was at risk of getting snowblindness but, hey, I didn't care. So, as I begin to take stock I promise to update you on my trip, the highs and lows, the Arctic Dreams and Arctic Nightmares. Be aware that this blog started off in a lighthearted manner (pee devices, silly clothes, munchy bags packed full with chocolate etc) but I want to tell you all about the Inuit hunters, the Nobel Peace Prize nominee, Sheila Watt-Cloutier, who invited me into her house, and the warm friendships developed between a group of strangers struggling to survive in a hostile environment. It was far more than just a walk in the park. On my return, my five year-old boy, Joe, said my arms looked like Bambi's legs. People have been saying how toned I look - and I know I have lost a few pounds. But size really doesn't matter. Believe me, girls. What's important is I have experienced another world. Some people call the Arctic a Dreamland and nowI understand why. Keep reading and I will tell you what happened, how I coped and why I miss the silence...