Sleepy South

Lots of open water already.

By the way, this is the man I’m exclusively dating.  

Look how handsome he is.

Programming note: I’m back to doing this on my phone, so non-sequiturs are the fault of autocorrect.

Dude, I am TIRED.  The last two weeks on station it didn’t matter how much I slept (or how little I worked), I was just tiiiired.  We had some lovely snow and the penguins hung around; I bundled up for the cold first sunset; and then I got shuffled and delayed a few days which allowed for more thorough goodbyes and mental preparation for departure.  The last days of McMurdo summer are a quasi-ghost town: everyone’s doing last-minute chores, presumably inside, and the typical hustle and heavy machinery activity disappear as though it’s a snow day from school.  

Even with all that extra nap time, here I am in beautiful New Zealand, adventure at my fingertips—and I’m sleeping a solid 11 hours.  Ok, I’ve walked over some decent hills and scrunched my toes in some beach sand and am well on my way to a solid tan.  In a few days a buddy and I will tackle some sizable peaks and saddles and river crossings along the non-flooded portion of the Rees-Dart Track.  My tent stakes will take their first plunge into international soil, and I’ll light my own camp stove for the first time.  There are currently three types of cheese in my rucksack (all Kiwi).  I’m rested (I think) and I’m ready.