Sweet Tooth

By Sarah Bouckoms

Just because we live on a remote icefield in Alaska is no excuse to not be civilized and have dessert. In fact the peer pressure to come up with the next greatest dessert is a competition no one minds. We started with brownies and escalated  to a super secret ice cream concoction. While it had a different texture the taste was remarkably delicious. Then we started with the pie baking competition. It was a joint effort to make a delicious Pumpkin Pie fit for any Thanksgiving table. There was also a peach pie, but well, not even I took the time to snap a photo before devouring the treat. Have no fear, the sweet tooth of the JIRP students and staff is in no danger of going without.

[NOTE:  Click on any of the images below to open a slideshow with all photos and captions.]   

Back with JIRP

By P. Jay Fleisher, Director Emeritus

JIRP ’68, ’69, ’79, ’86. ’87, ’93, '10, ’11, ’13

It is a pleasure and privilege to be back with JIRP (Juneau Icefield Research Program) after a one-year hiatus.  My initial JIRP experience decades ago was followed when I returned several times in subsequent years as a visiting faculty.  The Program, initiated and directed by Dr. Maynard M. Miller, evolved into a superb training ground for students heading to careers in Glaciology, Glacial Geology, Climate Science, and Arctic Sciences.  It is gratifying to see that the same high level of spirit and enthusiasm continues today in the current staff and students.

 

Dr. P. Jay Fleisher leads a geology field trip near Camp 10.  Photo by Mira Dutschke

Situated on the “high ice” central to the icefield, Camp-10 is currently the hub of research involving field measurements on multiple glaciers related to icefield mass balance and a variety of precision GPS projects that monitor glacier movement and elevation.  The scientific staff is eager to involve an enthusiastic group of 23 students (13 women and 10 men) who rotate in and out of projects, while attending to the logistical tasks of running the field camp.  An interesting variety of independent student projects is currently beginning formulated.  Soon the entire operation will shift to Camp-18 situated at the head of the Gilkey Trench, which in my humble opinion is the most photogenic place in all of Alaska.  The students will make the journey (about 15 miles) on skis, as they did two weeks ago when traversing from C-17 (20 miles) situated on the southern edge of the icefield and perched above Juneau.  Unfortunately, I am scheduled to depart prior to the C-18 move and will have to bid farewell to this dynamic group of students and staff.  But before I go I will offer the JIRP 2013 students a few farewell comments, comments that I hope will inspire them in their future efforts and perhaps inspire you as well.

My advice is to seek a mentor, one who will provide guidance when defining career goals.  For me their were three; my father who taught me, “if its worth doing, its worth doing right”, my wrestling coach who offered, “as you approach an initial goal, set another”, and finally a college professor who said to me years into my teaching career, “don’t tell me what you plan to do, tell me what’ve done”.  

I will advise the students “to follow their bliss, never stop questioning, and to find something to love”. 

Within this isolated icefield community, where the benefits of common values resonate most meaningfully, I hope the JIRPers will find inspiration and motivation in my comments.

So, until my return, hopefully next summer, I will add my name to the wooden rafters that record the annual roster of participants that goes back decades.

Photo Gallery: Flight from Juneau to Camp 10

By Stephanie Streich

[NOTE:  Click on any of the images below to open a slideshow with all photos and captions.]   

A Reconnaissance Mission with GPS Receivers

By Brooke Stamper

With safety training and ski practice behind us at Camp-17, we have begun to “hit it hard” as M. M. Miller would put it. Our daily routines have transitioned from gearing up to be outside and gathering our “glacier legs”, to spending time inside working on our research  projects.  The opportunities for place-based education are endless on the icefield and many students are taking advantage of the resources provided. I recently took advantage of an opportunity to set up GPS satellite receivers with Jason Amundson, Assistant Professor of Geophysics at the University of Alaska Southeast.

Jason and I rode on a snow machine and towed “the coffin”, a storage container with the bulky equipment in it. We traveled seven miles down glacier to a predetermined transect and placed our first of four satellite receivers just below the equilibrium line altitude, where the annual average snow accumulation and ablation are equal. We placed an additional three receivers at equal distances upglacier until we were at the convergence of the Matthes Glacier and Taku Glacier.  The GPS receivers will continuously track the velocity of the glacier over a one-week period to determine what portions of the glacier respond most strongly to meltwater input, and to what degree.  The project is simply exploratory at this stage.  Our hypothesis is that the daily variation in glacier velocity will be higher in the ablation area rather than on the “high ice” in the accumulation area.

The historical and current GPS data collection has been at specific points on the icefield to gather long-term annual data on surface elevation and velocity.  Most notably, Scott McGee and Ben Slavin set up stakes at set locations along a line that runs across the Taku Glacier from JIRP’s Cook Shack to Shoehorn Peak as well as a second set of stakes directly parallel to those stakes but starting from our favorite outhouse, curiously named “Dream Land”. On these stakes are placed black trash bags to allow us to better see the daily flow of Taku Glacier.  Eventually, the stakes will begin to arc and there will be noticeable change in location of the stakes. This will give us a fantastic example of strain on the icefield and an explanation as to why there are more crevasses on the edges of glaciers as compared to the center. Because the margins of the glacier are influenced by friction, the differences in flow rates are greater; therefore, there are more crevasses we must mind when downhill skiing from the Nunatak that Camp-10 sits on.

Although all of the students have begun to work independently on our projects, we are all aware that our efforts, in total, are for the betterment of the knowledge and understanding of the Juneau Icefield. Together as classmates and expedition-mates we are all here for the furthering of science on glacial dynamics and how this specific environment fits into the greater Earth system.

Links

The Crevasse Zone:  GPS Glacier Surveying on the Juneau Icefield, Alaska - Scott McGee's great website devoted to JIRP surveying efforts.


Our Royal Throne Rooms

By Sarah Bouckoms

Without fail, whenever I give a presentation about Antarctica to school kids, there is always some cheeky little boy who raises his hand and asks, “How do you poop?”. Mind you this question never gets formally asked by a more mature audience; however, I know they are all thinking it. So here is the answer to the question of all questions you have been wondering about your loved ones or children:  "How are they going to the bathroom?”.  While the facilities may not be five star, they are more than adequate and very sanitary. They are cleaned thoroughly everyday and handwashing stations are used religiously. The early morning busting bladder wake up call is alleviated with a most glorious view, a far more grander experience than having the luxury of carpet on your walk to the royal throne room. Let my picture diary explain what words can not.

[NOTE:  Click on any of the images below to open a slideshow with all photos and captions.]  

Dr. P. Jay Fleisher: Scientist, Professor, Mentor, JIRPer

Interview by Salvatore G. Candela

Dr. P. Jay Fleisher is a Distinguished Teaching Professor, Emeritus at State University of New York, College at Oneonta, where he taught Glacial Geology and Geomorphology. Jay has been involved with JIRP since 1968 when he participated with 15 other post-docs, and again on multiple occasions as a volunteer faculty member.  Jay served as JIRP's Interim Director from 2010 through 2011, then returned to Camp-10 as teaching faculty member in 2013 after a one year hiatus.

Dr. Fleisher explaining the xenolith inclusions near Camp 10.  Photo by Jamie Bradshaw.

Salvatore G. Candela: What was your educational path to becoming a scientist?

P. Jay Fleisher: As is true for many youths, it is possible to be influenced by a single teacher or mentor, and the influence came for me when my general science teacher in 5th or 6th grade took us to a university where we toured the engineering facilities and got  to see presentations by the faculty. I was so impressed by what these people did that I knew I wanted to be a scientist or engineer. During my first semester in an engineering curriculum I took a mandatory geology class that seemed to deal with topics of special interest. As I found myself learning about the formation of rocks and the Earth, I questioned “How could I possibly not study this?”. As I read the text books and listened to lectures I became so attached to the subject, and felt a passion for it, which lead me to become a geologist.

SC: What is your current field of study and interest?
PJF.: While in undergraduate school I found an introduction to a book on metamorphic rocks that said “the best geologist is the one who has seen the most rocks”. This inspired me to leave NY once finishing my undergraduate degree and head to North Carolina for my Masters to “see more rocks”. From there I headed to New Mexico to see even more rocks, and continue to grow my own knowledge on the topic. While working there, I realized I needed a PhD to do what I really wanted to do, teach at the college level. While in graduate school for my PhD, I decided to study glacial geology.

SC: What would you say was your greatest contribution to the world of science?
PJF: To have mentored and inspired undergraduate students to become scientists.

SC: What are the best and worst places your work has taken you?
PJF: The best place isn’t a place, it’s an environment, and the environment is the glacier wilderness, examples include the Juneau Icefield and Bering Glacier, Alaska.

The worst place….(long pause), was where I experienced being wet and cold, the combination being very physically uncomfortable, such as on the Juneau Icefield, and the Bering Glacier, Alaska, as two examples. Getting through these are also the experiences I take the greatest pride in.

SC: How did you become involved in JIRP?
PJF:  While on the faculty at SUNY-Oneonta, I reacted to a mailed flyer that described the JIRP program and applied and was accepted in 1968. This was during my post-doc research. When I got here, I realized that this was a place I could learn a lot about glaciers and glaciation, but also a place where I could learn at least as much, if not more about myself, thanks to the constant challenges presented in this environment.

SC: How has JIRP inspired your work or research direction?
PJF: While on a traverse across the Juneau Icefield, having traveled for two days in a storm including a bivouac on the glacier, my small field party of five were being transported on the back of a Thiokol (a large, tracked, over-snow vehicle) to a permanent camp site. As I sat there, watching glaciated mountains and glaciers slowly pass by I realized this is a place that deserves my full attention, because it’s an analog for what occurred in my home state of New York 14,000 years ago... I was actually living in an ice age.

SC: As a scientist and former JIRPer, what role do you envision JIRP playing in shaping the coming generations of scientist?
PJF: Hundreds of young men and women were exposed to the Juneau Icefield under the direction of Dr. Maynard Miller, the founder of the program. Looking back, I see from the roster of all those who participated, the names of some of the most outstanding scientists in glaciology and glacial geology today. Knowing that JIRP launched them and myself into our careers, I look towards JIRP to do the same for many more in the future.

SC: What advice would you give to the coming generation of young scientists?
PJF: Follow your bliss, never stop questioning, and never stop challenging yourself.

SC: Thank you very much for coming to the Icefield to teach us this year, and allowing me the opportunity to interview you.

Jay would enjoy hearing from those who have benefited from this blog:  fleishpj@oneonta.edu

 

NASA Alaska Space Grant Program and JIRP

By Dr. Cathy Connor, University Alaska Southeast, Environmental Science Program,

Since 1996, five JIRP students each summer have been the beneficiaries of financial support from the National Aeronautical and Space Administration (NASA) Alaska Space Grant Program.

The 2013 NASA Alaska Space Grant awardees are (from left to right) Jamie Bradshaw, Grayson Carlile, Patrick Englehardt, and Jonathan Doty. Not pictured: Sarah Mellies.  Photo by Adam Taylor.

 

The Alaska Space Grant Program (ASGP) is a consortium of public and private Alaska universities and non-profit organizations that sponsors a broad range of programs to enhance teaching, research, and educational outreach within aerospace and earth science, and other NASA related STEM disciplines throughout Alaska. The ASGP was established at the University of Alaska Fairbanks in 1991 under a Phase II Program Grant from NASA's National Space Grant College and Fellowship Program.

Through ASG’s Higher Education Program, I have applied for and secured summer funds to support students as they experience the glacier and earth science that occurs through JIRP. As UAS Affiliate Space Grant Director as well as a board member of the Foundation for Glacier and Environmental Research (FGER, the nonprofit organization that supports JIRP), I have been able to support over 70 undergraduate students in their JIRP experience, so critical to training the U.S.’s future climate scientists.  JIRP recipients of this award have been able to fulfill the goal of the ASG’s Higher Education Program to contribute to the development of the science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) workforce in disciplines needed to achieve NASA's strategic goals.

On the basis of their academic achievements and financial need JIRP students are selected each summer with priority to Alaskan students. The 2013 awardees are:

Jamie Bradshaw, Grayson Carlile, Jonathan Doty, Patrick Englehart, and Sarah Mellies.

Previous NASA-JIRP awardees are now well into their successful professional careers as glaciologists, chemists, hydrologists, geodynamicists, engineers, and climate researchers. They include Dr. Shad O’Neel 1996 (USGS Glaciologist and FGER Board), Dr. Erin Whitney 1996 (Chemist-National Renewable Energy Lab), Dr. Joan Ramage 1997 (Associate Professor of Remote Sensing, Lehigh University), Hiram Henry 1998 (Alaska Department of Transportation), Matt Beedle 1999 (Doctoral Candidate, University of Northern British Columbia, FGER Board), Eleanor Boyce 2001 (UNAVCO), and Seth Campbell 2007 (Doctoral Candidate, University Maine).

Surveying the Taku Glacier

By Stephanie Streich

This week, I had the opportunity to take part in two different glacial surveys to better understand the nature and changing characteristics of the Taku Glacier, located in the backyard of Camp-10.

The first surveying activity was the monitoring of the surface elevation of Taku Glacier, to track its pattern of growth and deflation. The monitoring of this part of the icefield has been one of JIRP’s long-running projects, and has contributed to a thorough record of this section of the ice.  On this occasion, German surveyor Christian Hein and I traveled by snow machine across Taku Glacier to the same locations that are measured every year with a global positioning system (GPS). Upon reaching the approximate location of each waypoint, while carrying the GPS receiver, antenna and data logger, I walked around the snow machine to find the exact coordinates of the waypoints. Once the points were found, an elevation could be determined by holding the GPS antenna a fixed distance above the ground. This continued throughout the day until all the data for the waypoints were collected (approximately 40). Not only did I learn about the techniques used in the surveying, I was able to appreciate the tedious process of maintaining a record of the health of a glacier. On another note, I was surrounded by a gorgeous landscape that I do not have the privilege of seeing in my every day life, at the University of Alberta.

On my second day of surveying, I went out on the icefield with my former University of Alberta professor, Jeff Kavanaugh, and University of Alaska Southeast professor Jason Amundson to undertake the fieldwork required to monitor the movement of an area of glacial ice on the Taku. During this time, we set up a grid of predetermined GPS coordinates with nine wooden stakes that were jammed into the snow. Once the grid was established, a GPS  antenna was placed on each of the stakes for a half hour to procure their exact locations. The height of the poles were also measured to monitor the rates of snow ablation, or melt.  Jeff intends to revisit these sites two more times before we leave Camp 10 to obtain their GPS coordinates to eventually calculate the surface velocities of the moving ice.

Stephanie Streich by a GPS antenna, mounted to one of the strain gauge stakes. Photo by Jeff Kavanaugh.

As a student that had not done much field work in the past, participating in JIRP has made me appreciate working in the field in a way that I did not value in school. In a university setting, I learned about field work through the presentations from my professors and in my labs. However, learning about fieldwork and actually applying it in real life are two different things. For example, the presentations that Jeff delivered in class did not come near to actually experiencing what he does as a professional.  In class, field work felt like a strict, rigid, process, which  can be attributed to the stressful environment of university academia. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to find out  through experience that the work I was doing with Jeff was fun, insightful, relaxed and made me want to know the results of our tests. This is a message that I want to stress: that without participating in JIRP, I may never have known that science does not have to be a rigorous, structured activity in a stressful academic environment. I had lots of fun during my two field trips and hope to do more as the program continues into August.

So, you want pizza for dinner?

By Sarah Bouckoms
Inspired by Salvador G. Candela

So you want pizza for dinner? So do we at Camp 10, but it's not as easy as calling up your favorite local pizza joint and handing over $20. There is a lot more love that goes into making pizza on the Juneau Icefield. Let my pictures explain.....

[NOTE:  Click on any of the images below to open a slideshow with all photos and captions.] 

This meal was made for 32 people, since 10 were out on an overnight trip. All total we made six pizzas with 15 pieces each, and the quinoa salad to ensure everyone was full. Brownies are always a welcome addition to any meal on the Juneau Icefield. If that seemed like fun, imagine what it's like cooking for the full camp of 42!  Bon Appetite from the 2013 JIRPers!

Tour de Alf

By Stanley Pinchak

For many years, JIRP has maintained year-round digital temperature measurement at several camps located across the Juneau Icefield.  Starting in 1986 with the first installation in the Camp 17 Metshelter, the program expanded in subsequent years to include six camps which range from the most coastal, Camp 17; the most mainland, Camp 26; the mildest, Camp 10; and the highest and coldest, Camps 8 and 25.  These camps string out along the route that the Program follows each summer, although not all students spend time at Camp 25 or Camp 8.

The original temperature loggers were graciously provided by long time JIRPer Robert Asher.  These Ryan Instruments TempMentor (RTM) devices provide the ability to collect temperature readings every other hour for over a year.  The RTM devices are sealed inside of hard plastic lunch boxes and after 1987 were modified with a sealed port for the external temperature probe.  These recording devices have been installed in the Stevenson Meteorologic Shelters (Metshelters) at the various camps alongside other meteorological instruments.

Robert Asher performing routine maintenance on RTM at Camp 8 in 1987.  Photographer unknown.

A newer series of temperature loggers from Pace Scientific have been donated by Robert Asher and Analytical Research Associates.  The standard Pocket Logger provides the ability to capture two years of hourly temperature recordings.  This provides the possibility of capturing usable data even if logistics or computer issues prevent data recovery the year following deployment.  Other benefits of the Pocket Logger include finer temperature resolution, the ability for pre-set deployment, a report format that  includes date/time information corresponding to a particular measurement, and the ability to interrogate the device to check status while in operation.

Camp 8 Metshelter housing temperature sensors.  Photo by Alf Pinchak

While many JIRPers have been involved in the installation, maintenance, and collection of data from the temperature loggers, Alfred Pinchak has been involved since the beginning and remains the primary force in making sure that the JIRP Temperature Project (JTP) continues to collect data.  He is instrumental in training JIRP students and staff who have accompanied him while he makes the tour of the camps each year.

Alf Pinchak at Camp 10 alongside one of his beloved Metshelters.  Photo by Sarah Bouckoms

Due to time constraints in recent years, Alf will often travel by snowmobile ahead of the main JIRP program to reach the more distant Camps 8, 25, and 26.  The blitzkrieg of the farther camps is a rather exhausting task.  Not only must last year’s data be downloaded and the loggers be deployed for the upcoming year, there are calibrations which must be performed and recorded, maintenance of the Metshelters, and preliminary camp opening tasks are also performed at this time.

Camp 17 Metshelter under repair.  Photo by Alf Pinchak

This year Alf was able to collect the data from Camps 17 and 10 while he traveled with the main Program.  He elected to send Scott McGee and Stanley Pinchak on to the remaining camps.  Scott and Jeff Kavanaugh had reported earlier in the summer that the Metshelter at Camp 18 had gone missing, and in order to ensure adequate time to locate or replace it, a two day trip was planned.  Weather permitting, Scott and Stanley would leave and perform their tasks at Camp 18, 8, and 25, sleeping at Camp 18 and then travel to Camp 26 the following morning.

On the day of departure, the weather was excellent for snowmobile travel and the plan was slightly altered.  After departing Camp 10, Scott and Stanley headed immediately to Camp 8 and had a rather uneventful time after Scott found safe passage across the crevasse that extends down the southern slope of Mt. Moore.  Machining off under a reddish late morning sun, the result of recent forest fires in the region around the Juneau Icefield, the two headed to Camp 18 to pick up additional gas and to make an initial survey of the area around the missing Metshelter, uninhibited by the whiteout which had made this impossible for Jeff and Scott just a week earlier.  While the legs of the Metshelter were thrown off their moorings, only a few splinters of the Metshelter could be located in this initial survey.

The Metshelter at Camp 8 with Mt.  Moore in the background.  Photo by Stanley Pinchak

With the gas having been procured, Scott directed the snowmobile past the 8-18 junction and the Blob on towards Mt. Nesslerode and Camp 25.  The initial Eastern approach was complicated by crevasses and blue ice which limited access to the base of the camp.  A wide swing around the crevasse field allowed an alternate approach from the Southwest.  The steep climb over rock that looked like fractured shale was complicated by soft sand, the result of weathering and erosion.  Each footstep was seemingly more treacherous than the last, every weight transfer the opportunity for the underlying media to give way a little or a lot.  From initial appearances, the Metshelter appeared to be in pretty good shape, despite still needing a good coat of flat white paint.  Upon opening, it was apparent that something was amiss.  There were two data loggers in the Metshelter, but only one probe was secured inside, the other sensor was missing.  Further investigation indicated that the plastic probe holder fatigued, failed, and fell, allowing the probe to slip through the ventilation holes in the bottom of the shelter, leaving it hanging, exposed to daytime solar radiation.

After the initial disappointment caused by this hardware failure that has possibly biased some unknown portion of the daytime data, the task of recovering, calibrating, and redeploying the Pocket Logger commenced.  All was going smoothly until it came time to change the batteries on this newer model Pocket Logger.  For reasons still unknown, the device would not communicate for redeployment and after a period of time spent in troubleshooting and testing with a backup device, it was decided to install the backup for the upcoming year.  Unfortunately, this would limit recording to every hour as compared to the newer device which was capable of recording every 15 minutes.  Additionally, deploying the backup recorder would leave Camp 18 without a logger in the event that the Metshelter or its contents could not be found.  Some small maintenance was performed on the Metshelter, including the installation of barrel latches to secure the door and re-installation of the temperature probe.

When they had completed their work at Camp 25, Scott and Stanley headed back toward the main branch of the Llewellyn Glacier and then Northward to Camp 26.  The mid-afternoon approach to Camp 26 was complicated by the swamp of super-glacial streams, blue ice, small patches of snow, and moraine material that dominate the glacier for the kilometer between the C-26 Ski Hill and Toby's Rock.  Scott managed to plot a course through this quagmire that brought the snowmobile to the base  of Toby's Rock.  The hike up and around to picturesque Camp 26 was punctuated by the songs of the marmots and accompanied by the burbling of mountain streams and occasional drone of flying insects.

Author Stanley Pinchak takes temperature readings from the swamp in super-glacial streams  en route to Camp 26.  Photo by Scott McGee

It was soon discovered  that all was not well with the Camp 26 Metshelter.  The door stood open, a securing bungie cord hanging loosely, longing for its missing companion, the data recorder.  In disbelief, Stanley and Scott wondered aloud what might have caused such a situation.  Was it vandals or thieves, or something more sinister like marmots?  No those did not make sense since there remained the second recorder unmolested.  It could only be the wind.  That cold, cruel force that seemed to be wreaking havoc across the Icefield this past year must be to blame.  Fortunately, the data logger was discovered about 10 meters down slope, protectively encased in its plastic lunchbox, merrily recording “LO” for who knows how long.  Its temperature probe was located nearby, severed and lacerated in a dozen places, the result of the fall on the rocks or of marmot teeth could not be ascertained.

The Metshelter at Camp 26 was left exposed to the beautiful views. Photo by Stanley Pinchak

After a hard day’s work the RTM is going nowhere in its home at the Metshelter of Camp 26.  Photo by Stanley Pinchak

After the RTM data was recovered, the probe replaced and the device calibrated and redeployed, work commenced on creating a more secure solution than the single bungie which had long since seen more elastic days.  A couple of new bungies were employed, securing the RTM to newly installed anchors.  The door to the Metshelter was also secured with some wire to prevent future wind related mishaps.

While at Camp 26 it was discovered that the newer Pocket Logger had decided to begin talking to the computer again.  With this welcome news, the plans for the next day changed slightly.  Before heading to Camp 18, another stop at Camp 25 was scheduled to recover the spare logger and install the device that regularly monitors that camp.  A warm night was followed by a sunny but again slightly hazy morning.  The marmots again performed as Scott and Stanley cleaned up the plywood explosion, handiwork of wind and marmot, before heading to the snowmobile.  On the way up and out of the glacial marsh, temperature data was collected at two small super-glacial streams in the hopes of gaining further insight into the characteristics of the water systems that permeate the temperate glaciers of the Juneau Icefield.

A long drive from the upper reaches of the Llewellyn ablation zone to Mt. Nesselrode was followed by a quick stop at Camp 25.  Swapping out the recorders allowed for another opportunity to play “don't drop the equipment” as Scott and Stanley negotiated the increasingly longer hike from the top of the glacier to the kitchen and Metshelter of Camp 25, a byproduct of years of negative mass balance since the creation of the camp.  The weather remained clear and the views from Camp 25 to Camp 18 were breathtaking.

Upon arrival at Camp 18, the search for the missing Metshelter began in earnest.  Initially the edges of the snowfield immediately South of the Metshelter were combed, then a larger sweep began when this proved unsuccessful.  Outhouses and other sheltered locations were checked in the event that researchers from the USGS had discovered the Metshelter and moved the equipment earlier in the season.  This too proved unfruitful.  As Scott worked the Western reaches of the Camp 18 outcropping, Stanley headed South.  Finally, it was heard from the South, “SCOTT, I've found it!”

Scott McGee searching for missing instruments at Camp 18.  Photo by Stanley Pinchak

The remains at Camp 18 after the wind had its way with the Metstation.  Photo by Stanley Pinchak

There they were, the splinters and pieces of a large Stevenson Metshelter, spread out vertically along perhaps 15 meters of stair stepping cliffs, which start with an initial four meter drop, and located Southward about 75 meters from the original location of the Metshelter.  Among these shattered remains were some of the instrument contents of the Metshelter and hints at the fate of the others.  Holders for the high/low thermometers were found along with cracked pieces of a blue pelican case, evidence of massive trauma with bare rock written on its surface, a bag of desiccant placed alongside the Pocket Logger in its case was found among the wooden splinters.  While the hopes for the Pocket Logger and its data were dashed, there was still hope for Scott's instrument.  Unfortunately, the search was called off after a thorough investigation of the rocks near the remains of the Metshelter and the edges of the snow field which extends below these rocks proved unsuccessful.

The temporary Metshelter at Camp 18 all rocked in to support it against harsh winds and marmots.  Photo by Stanley Pinchak

With the mystery of the missing Metshelter having been discovered, work began to install a new temporary Metshelter in preparation for a new recording year.  A new site was located and legs were rocked in, a temporary anchor until the Program arrives at Camp 18 and more permanent cable ties can be installed.  A smaller, more aerodynamic Metshelter was attached to these legs and readied for the upcoming year.  The only problem was that the Camp 18 Pocket Logger was missing, assumed destroyed in the catastrophic events of the previous year.  Worse, the weather resistant case was also missing and in any event, damaged heavily in the fall.  How could the JTP continue at Camp 18?

The spare Pocket Logger and a super-glacial stream temperature probe were the answer to the question posed by the first problem.  All that remained was the weather proof case.  A plastic peanut butter jar procured from the generator shed provided the weather proof case, the damaged probe taken from Camp 26 provided the sealed port for the new probe.  A little silicone here and there and the JTP was ready for another year at Camp 18.  After using the tired old bungie from Camp 26 to secure the door to the Metshelter, Scott and Stanley headed back to the Nunatak Chalet arriving just in time for dinner.  A tale of highs and lows, of beauty and exhilaration, of despair and hope completed.  Another Tour de Alf for the record books.

A new protective housing was FGERed out of a peanut butter jar to ensure the science continues!  Photo by Stanley Pinchak