Hut Point: A Respite

Two posts in two subsequent days? Unheard of! Appalling! Atrocious!

Yet you're still reading this.

Today is Sunday here in Mactown. A day of rest (or recovery for those who enjoyed the '70's party at Gallagher's a bit too much last night) for all of those on the "town schedule". At this moment in time, this would include myself, though shift work is finally appearing on the horizon.

For me, the day has been peaceful and relaxing as I was able to get out on my own for a bit today. I've come to the conclusion that no matter what I do, there will probably always be an independent wanderlust in me that can't be conquered. It's not that I don't enjoy the company of other people, it's just that I enjoy my time alone to allow for uninterrupted thought and the self satisfaction of doing things for myself.

After another tasty meal at the galley (the Mexican scramble casserole combined the leftovers from at least three different days), I made the decision to go out and hike the Hut Point Loop, one of several trails and hiking options found in this small corner of the world.

Hut Point, for those of you not better informed, is a small peninsula jutting out from "The Rock" of McMurdo and is so named for Scott's hut which remains in excellent condition from his 1902 expedition. While the hut itself is not far from my residence, the trail that runs behind it climbs about 600 feet and provides an excellent view of Mactown, Mt. Erebus, and Icetown (The collection of buildings, shacks, and equipment that makes up the nearby Ice Runway, current home to Station 2.).

After notifying our dispatcher that I would be out of pager range, topped off my water bottle and snagged some snacks, I was on my way.

It doesn't take very long around here to realize how quiet everything can become. Since very few people are actually working on a Sunday, there isn't the din and drone of Cat motors and tracked vehicles clattering by. It took me less than a hundred yards before all I could here was the crunch of my footsteps in gravel and the sound of McMurdo snow chunks clinking away as my boots displaced them.

The short walk to the hut itself was fairly uneventful. I stopped out there to take some pictures and walked up to Vince's Cross, a memorial to one of Scott's lost compatriots.

The Scott Hut Loop is considered to be a busy trail. I suppose that this is true, though it is relative based on the tiny population in town. As I made my way up the hills, I only ran into two other people.

Now, the trails up towards the top get to be fairly steep and a bit tricky. Much of the trail consists of "fines", loose and sandy volcanic gravel. This makes for a bit of loss of traction and an increased effort in climbing. Additionally, since we have not yet reached thaw, there are still portions of the trail that are covered in solid, slippery covers of snow.

After working up a fairly slippery section up past "Caged Mary" (A McMurdo shrine from the Navy.), I made it to one of the trail markers that came with a spectacular view. I sat down on a pile of rocks for a while, and just listened to the world. The rustle of wind came past my ears, the soft cruch of Antarctic gravel came from well down the hill from another hiker, and a vast sense of silence came. Everything from there seemed so lucid and peaceful. Only one thing disturbed me. My aural indiscretions from the past returned to trouble me. My ears, so accustomed to the wails of sirens, screams of chainsaws, and roar of motorcycles refused to accept silence. They instead brought steady ringing, punishment for having lived in the world too long, and a reminder of everything that I have done up to now.

Regardless, I found myself at peace with the world, at least for a moment. The mountains surrounded me, the sea ice covered everything below, and the steady calm left my mind clear for the first time in forever.

All things in this world must end, however. This being no different, and a chill from sitting idle too long to prompt me, I continued my way along the trail.

Eventually, I worked my way up to the highest part of the trail, from where you could clearly see Mt. Erebus, our resident active volcano. He sat there puffing off in the distance, leaving me thankful since that indicates an extremely low chance of a big eruption. The view from up there was excellent, with views for miles beyond. I still preferred my previous stopping point, as I could see the town more clearly.

After another stop at the top, the time finally came for me to return back to town. The trail down led to a snow covered field. The snow here is very dry and becomes very hard as it sits and becomes compacted. As a result, it creates a unique sound all it's own. I would like to say that the sound of boots crunching through it reminds me of crushing foam and popping bottle tops, though both descriptions are wholly inadequate.

After a stretch across this last snow covered section, I finally reached the road that made up the rest of the trail and led back to town. As I slowly made my way closer and closer back to town, the sound of crunching gravel became accompanied by other, unnatural sounds. The sound of Cats purring, back up alarms, and tracks on gravel and snow started to interfere with everything that I had just enjoyed. I slowly returned back to reality. I was disappointed by this at first, though at the same time, quite grateful, as the temperature had begun its decline again and left me a little chilly and ready to return to the civilization that keeps me alive.

It's a strange thing, though. For someone like me who used to thrive on chaos, noise, and a fast paced life that I would finally be happiest in peace and solitude. Perhaps I have changed, or perhaps I reveled in only what I knew, not knowing that better things lay ahead.

Today ended my first excursion up to Hut Point. I promise that it will not be my last. Also, I plan on making every trail before I leave here, and I hope to have similar or better experiences all around.

For those of you still wondering why I love this place, I hope I gave you at least a partial explanation. For those of you who still cannot comprehend, perhaps you are just too different from myself just or too used to the same thing throughout your life. The first part I can offer no solution for. The second, though, can be easily fixed with a change of scenery.

Take the leap. There's never a guarantee to the outcome, but it is better than not knowing.


That just about concludes my writing for the day. My apologies if I became to contemplative and introspective or if it began to sound too much like a sermon or just lacked the thrill and adventure of the latest blockbuster hit, but if you've read this far it couldn't have been that bad.

Now on to dinner at the galley and some studying for my tests tomorrow. Also, no pictures today. The internet is not friendly again, though I promise they do exist and that I'd love to show you them.