Farewell to Summit Station

I left the ice in early February and hit the ground running with a lot of things happening over the past few months. So, better late than never?

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There’s a saying in the polar programs:

“I hate this place! I love this place! I’m never coming back. See you next year!”

Someone even made t-shirts one season in McMurdo with that printed on the back. I’m not a fan of this because while there are a lot of people who say this, more or less, their bitterness can ruin the experience for others. But it does exemplify the complicated relationship we all have with the ice. After a season or two most everyone has something they can’t stand. People get burnt out, toasty. After a point we say someone is “perma-toast” – when they come back and are just as toasty as when they left last season. And that’s when they shouldn’t come back – for their sake and everyone who has to work with them.

SO…I have been careful not to say: “I’m never coming back.” But I knew this would be my last season at Summit, at least for a while. So I tried to notice and appreciate all the parts that I love most. I froze bubbles and threw hot water into the air (Hot and Cold Science). I witnessed the beautiful and entrancing reflections of LiDAR on falling ice crystals (Rave Ice). I stood out in -75F temps and listened to the whooshing of my breath freezing as it blew past my ears. I took hundreds of aurora photos and just stood outside under the dark Arctic sky and looked at the stars. I learned constellations and thought about the ice and the darkness. Yet, despite all I love about the ice I am also burnt out, I am ready for a change, for the next chapter.

My flight from Summit arrived on February 9, just a day late due to foul weather in the Denmark Strait between Iceland and Greenland. We were eager for the plane to arrive – to welcome our incoming replacements and receive resupply. The mechanic waited in the shop going over the equipment to refuel the plane and checking the machines to tow the fuel sled. The science techs worked quickly to complete their daily rounds and duties before the folks arrived. I had woken early to start supplying hourly weather observations and cleaned the Big House, waiting by the radio, email, and satellite phones for word of their progress. First we got news that they had departed Iceland, then that they had landed at Constable Pynt (their mid-way refueling point). I announced this over our local radios and everyone wrapped up their projects and prepared for the plane’s arrival.
About an hour before their estimated arrival time the air-to-ground radio in the office erupted with static. I grabbed the mic: “Norlandair, Norlandair. This is Summit on 123.45. I hear you 5 by 1. Do you copy?” Crackling static…but with the hint of a voice beyond. A few minutes later I called again. And this time I could hear their reply! As they approached the signal grew stronger. They requested a weather observations and asked a few questions about the skiway conditions. I relayed to the crew on site that they were about 25 minutes out and wrote a few last minute notes on the white board for my replacement.

The sleek Twin Otter landed smoothly on the snow. They taxied to the fuel tank and the pilots climbed out, opening the door for the passengers in the back and greeting the mechanic with his re-fueling hose at the ready. I waited by the radio until Phil, the incoming manager, arrived and we hugged – then I gave a quick briefing and pointed out my copious notes around the office, grabbed my bags, and made my way out to the plane. The Icelandic pilots were cheerful and grinned at us behind their bundled cold weather clothes. The Twin Otter gleamed in the low angled sunlight. It’s bright red paint in stark contrast to the deep blue sky and sparkling snow. We had just 5 hours of daylight and the forecast was questionable so I climbed on board and we were off, flying over the station and to the East. I sat, overwhelmed with mixed emotions, looking out the windows at the scattered buildings, worn foot paths, and flag lines stretching across the snow…and then it all receded, and was soon lost in the expanse of ice of the polar plateau.

The auxiliary fuel tank inside the cabin

 

Farewell Summit Station

 

The flight over East Greenland was as beautiful as ever. After a few hours of flying over flat white the ice began to buckle and ripple beneath us. Tips of mountains, called nunataks, poked through the ice; the dark rock standing in sharp contrast to the white snow. The ice thinned, giving way to proper mountains. Sheer vertical cliffs rose up, dividing the ice into deep valleys that shunted it to the sea. Beautiful granite and impressive icefalls covered some of the most rugged terrain I’ve ever seen. Eventually the ice in the valleys met flat sea ice, which in turn broke around the edges into open water.

Monster crevasses

You can see the fluid dynamics of an ice stream here

View out of the Twin Otter

 

We stopped in Constable Pynt for a quick re-fuel. I was able to get out and stretch my legs a bit, even sighting an arctic fox on the hill! Inside the little waiting room a poster on the wall advertised the closest town on the Eastern Greenland coast: Ittoqqortoormiit. And then we continued on past the Eastern edge of Greenland to the ocean. The sun settled behind the mountains and ice…leaving us to land in the dark in Akureyri Iceland.

Constable Pynt

Refueling

The little airport

Due to a snow storm everything in Iceland was shut down for the following few days and I enjoyed soaking in hot pools, meeting with some friends in town, and resting up after a long season.

While I am not planning to return to Summit I am sure that I will return to high latitudes sooner than later. I will write more then 🙂

Downtown Akureyri

An Icelandic sculpture

Sunlight

After 2 and a half months of darkness the sun has returned to Summit Station. Over the past few weeks we have watched as the mid-day skies grew lighter each day. Any light, however diffuse, is welcome and we have had some beautiful dawn and dusk colors.
Sunrise was officially on January 28, 2018, however due to poor weather and low visibility it was obscured almost the entire week, until Saturday…

Almost sunrise on Jan 27

The sun on Feb 3

Unobstructed sunrise

Looking out the window I could see the clouds were breaking up, and around 10am I saw the sun’s orb partly shielded by haze. Molten gold, it lit up the clouds and soon stretched its rays to the surface. As I did my station rounds I saw my shadow for the first time since November. I stared in awe as the buildings were bathed in brilliant light, windows and exhaust vents glinting, and the blue surface of the snow turned a pale gold. I blinked away the ice on my lashes and stared into the sun until it was burned into my eyes. Just feeling the light on my face was more than enough. I love the night sky and the darkness, but it must be balanced with the light.

HDR image of the sunset behind TAWO, the 10m met tower, and the GISP2 borehole

Despite the sun’s return it’s still very cold: -60F today with a windchill of -90F and the sun is above the horizon for just 4 hours. Not quite out of winter. We were also hoping to see the full lunar eclipse on Jan 31, but unfortunately just as it was becoming visible the moon slipped behind a layer of hazy clouds.

Start of the lunar eclipse on Jan 31

Back in 2015 however, I was here for another lunar eclipse that did not fail to amaze:

Hot and Cold Science

There’s an old saying that to make ice cubes freeze faster use boiling water in the tray rather than cold water as one might guess. Perhaps surprisingly, there might be some scientific truth to that…it’s called the Mpemba Effect.
The exact science behind this phenomenon is still being worked out and debated, however it raises some interesting questions. Last year Nature published a paper arguing that the Mpemba Effect doesn’t actually exist while another paper published earlier this year in the Journal of Modern Physics suggested that it does indeed exist, perhaps having to do with the structure of water collapsing when heated leading to more random collisions between molecules and thus faster cooling.

{If you’ve heard the old adage about the reverse phenomenon, that cold water will boil faster than hot water and are wondering if that’s true now, I’m sorry…that one has been proven false. Cold water does however bypass the hot water tank in your home and may taste better even if it takes longer to boil.}

But going back to the process of hot water freezing…
Another interesting phenomenon occurs when very hot water meets very cold air. Hot water contains more energy and has less structure (as explained by the above article in the Journal of Modern Physics). It’s actually closer to steam than cold water. So when it’s thrown into the air it breaks apart into tiny droplets each with a large surface area, facilitating the evaporation and freezing processes. Hot water thrown into cold air freezes almost instantly creating an impressive cloud of ice particles and fog. Try again with cold water and you’ll just end up with a puddle of ice on the ground.
Huffington Post published an article back in 2014 explaining this effect with some cool videos (www.huffingtonpost.com/boiling-water-extreme-cold-water-gun-ice). With the recent cold weather across the US I imagine there are lots of posts about this too.

This works best at temperatures below -40F and makes for some pretty cool photos. Unfortunately, we don’t have the bandwidth to upload videos here, so these pictures will have to do.

-90F at the South Pole on March 25, 2013:

South Pole March 2013

-50F at Summit Station on December 5, 2017:

 

-55F at Summit Station on December 1, 2016:

 

 

 

We also experimented with freezing bubbles. However, with no trees or mountains to break the wind it’s generally too windy for bubbles to last very long. It’s also been pretty cold lately at -75F last week so they freeze very quickly, often bursting.

 

If you’re looking for more fun science projects to do at home this winter check out this awesome post by NPR: www.npr.org/dont-just-shiver-here-are-3-cold-weather-experiments-to-try

And if you’re still interested in the science and history of cold check out the aptly titled, fascinating, and well written book: Cold by Bill Streever.

Happy New Year!

An overexposed full moon with a nice halo and some faint aurora over the MSF on Jan 1, 2018

The full moon over the Big House  framed by aurora

Star Trails around Polaris: the bright line of light in the lower left is a science tech’s headlamp off to launch a balloon, the dashed line in the middle is a tumbling satellite, and two iridium flares can be seen in the lower right.

 

Dark Days

Happy Solstice!

It’s December 21, the date on which the North pole is farthest from the sun. Mid-Winter for those in the North…and Mid-Summer for those down South. Here at Summit it’s the darkest day of the year, without even civil twilight.

Summit is at 72deg North which is further north than Barrow, AK and Tromsø, Norway, but not quite as far North as Svalbard. Unlike at the South Pole Station where there is no difference between “noon” and “midnight,” on the darkest day here we will see a bit of light on the horizon to the south. It’s kind of nice to be able to walk around without a headlamp, but it’s fleeting. It lasts just for a few hours and then it’s dark again.

The solstice marks the halfway point of winter. It will begin to get just a little lighter each day until the summer solstice on June 21^st. While the darkness doesn’t bother me too much we haven’t had many auroras this year and I am looking forward to seeing the sun again. Mid-winter is a big deal for Antarctic stations, especially at the South Pole (here’s a link to my mid-winter post from 2013: /”>antarcticarctic.wordpress.com/happy-mid-winter and an article by the Antarctic Sun on mid-winter celebrations:antarcticsun.usap.gov). The June solstice is celebrated with a fancy dinner and solstice greetings are sent between stations, but the December solstice is in the midst of the busy summer season down south and celebrations are typically combined with the holidays. Summit is somewhat of an anomaly all alone in the North, but as an official polar research station and the largest U.S. Arctic Research Station we join in the exchange of greetings with the stations across Antarctica.

The Big House at noon

The Big House and MSF in mid-afternoon

So, Happy Solstice and Happy Holidays from the Summit winter crew!

Rave Ice

Last winter I was in the midst of my monthly building checks when I went out to visit the Mobile Science Facility (MSF). It was a dark day and snowing lightly. I noticed a flickering light on the snow out of the corner of my eye and proceeded to the back of the building where there are no outside lights. In the shadow of the building and under the angled LiDAR beam the ground was alive with bright green flashes of light.

A starstax image

The LiDAR glows green atop the MSF

The MSF on 11/28

Taking IcePICs

The LiDAR laser is mounted to the roof of the Mobile Science Facility (MSF) and is part of the ICECAPS project which is looking at atmosphere, precipitation, radiation, and cloud properties over the Greenland ice sheet.
The science techs had noticed these reflected lights earlier, but I had not seen it before. It was truly magical! The lights danced and flickered around lasting only a fraction of a second. Some streaked across in lines, others just flashed a tiny spot, still others revealed intricate interference patterns on the snow. Later that evening the techs and I returned with our cameras. Like auroras, it’s difficult to capture the movement, but still beautiful and interesting none the less!

It was reminiscent of disco ball lights, but faster and brighter. At first we called it “Disco Ice,” but that wasn’t quite right…lasers, neon green, a high frequency pulse… “Rave Ice” was a better fit.

Intrigued, we decided to do some research to find out what exactly was happening. Was this a normal LiDAR by-product? How was it related to the falling or blowing snow? What did it tell us about current atmospheric conditions? Surprisingly we found almost nothing on the topic. One paper described a similar phenomenon, however the authors said it had only ever been observed in controlled optics research labs and computer programs, never outside. They speculated that snow or ice crystal size, shape, and orientation could be inferred from the light patterns displayed. One of the science techs wanted more information and reached out to the authors sharing some photos we had taken. They were amazed.
This phenomenon has most certainly been occurring since the LiDAR was first installed in 2010. However, it is rare, can only be seen in the dark, and had never been documented until last winter (2016-17). Over the next few months the ICECAPS Primary Investigators, the science tech here, and the optical researchers collaborated to write an article explaining the unique phenomenon. It was published in the July 2017 edition of Applied Optics!

They were able to link the patterns we photographed, the ice crystals we collected, and the shapes and patterns they had modeled in their labs. For example, a bullseye pattern is created by a smooth sided disc, while a bright spot surrounded by six broken dashed lines is a distinct hexagonal plate. We saw both of these patterns and also collected these types of crystals during the event.

It appears that this phenomenon occurs relatively often. When seen from afar the LiDAR beam glints and sparkles reflecting off the crystals. But conditions must be just right to get well defined patterns. There can’t be too much freezing fog, it can’t be blowing tons of snow, it needs to be dark, and there needs to be some precipitation. While any crystals will reflect the laser the most intricate patterns are a result of proper snowflakes and other more complex crystal shapes; something that requires relatively high humidity (so not too cold) and not too much turbulence (otherwise they’ll break apart). Up here it tends to be either very cold, calm, and clear with no precipitation, or warm, humid, and windy with far too much turbulence for complex crystals to form.
Earlier last week however there was an abnormally warm period with very low winds. Temperatures in some areas of Greenland were as much as 50˚F above average. While temperatures here have been around -50˚F the week prior and again this week, during the warm event Summit temps reached +7˚F! This warm spell affected much of Greenland and was so unusual it made the news:
https://thinkprogress.org/omg-heat-wave-scorches-greenland
https://weather.com/news

It also proved to be absolutely perfect conditions for Rave Ice. I had noticed the sparkling LiDAR beam on Tuesday afternoon and knew it would be worth hauling my tripod and camera out there. As I was walking out one of the techs called out on the radio that I should come out to see…and it was some of the best yet. I set up my tripod and started taking pictures while the tech collected snow samples, photographing the ice crystals, and recording meteorological data.

The science tech in the unheated shelter used to photograph ice crystals

Observing the Rave Ice

These are some of the crystals she photographed:

And these are some stacked images of the reflections:

November Afternoons

Station lights on a misty afternoon

Aurora Borealis over the MSF

Summit 360 Tour

Are you interested in seeing a full tour of station? Check out this 360 tour of Summit Station from a few years ago:

www.360cities.net/summit-station-greenland

 

The Long Arctic Winter

It has been a month since we arrived on station and we have settled into our roles. Every week seems to bring some form of excitement to keep things interesting, and we’ve had a few good wind storms, but thankfully nothing too dramatic. We are doing well and the station is running fine.

Long shadows beneath the Big House

The MSF at dawn

Last glimpses of the sun

When we arrived it was full on autumn, the sun rose at 8:30am and set at 4:34pm. It was blustery with lots of blowing and drifting snow. Temperatures were erratic; cool, but not terribly cold. Over the past month we have shifted into winter. The sun began rising later and setting later…each day losing 10 minutes, then 15 minutes, then 20 minutes of daylight. Finally, earlier this week on November 13, the sun rose and set for the last time. A mere 1 hour of daylight: 10:46am-11:48am. Unfortunately, that day was cloudy and cold and we did not get a proper view of the sun. But the days since have had beautiful periods of dusk and dawn, the sun stopping just short of breaking the line of the horizon. It’s a magical time with vibrant colors, long shadows, and the potential for auroras though we haven’t seen much yet.

Blowing snow at 40 knots

Working outside at -55F

The lowest temperature we’ve seen so far was -67.5°F on Nov. 12. Not the coldest I’ve been in, that was -107.9°F at the South Pole in 2013, but it’s pretty chilly. There seems to be a shift at -40°F where materials become a bit more brittle, the cold just a bit more sharp. Around -60°F there is another step; the solid steel of the loader tracks creaks and crackles, bamboo shatters, leather becomes solid, and your exhalations whoosh loudly past your ears as the moisture freezes instantly.

As the temperatures have dropped it has grown darker. Below is a solar chart showing hours of daylight in light blue, twilight in greys, and night in black throughout the year at our latitude. The x-axis is months of the year and the y-axis is hours in the day. The break in the graph is daylight savings time here in Greenland. The white double-line on the right is the showing today – which is also broken down at the bottom. You can see that between late May and August the sun never sets while between mid-November and late-January it never rises. Here is my post from sunset last year: Antarcticarctic.wordpress.com/2016/11/23/sunset.

This just a fascinating affirmation of grade school physics and astronomy – proof that our earth is tilted 23.5degress off the elliptic and spherical. For comparison, here is a graph of today at the South Pole – the sun rises and sets just once a year at the poles (which I wrote about here) so you can see they go from 24hrs of daylight on the equinoxes to 24hrs of twilight and night.

And this is a graph of Nairobi which is very close to the equator, you can see there is very little change in daylight throughout the year.

Regardless of the cold and the dark there is work to be done inside and out. We try to wait for good days (warmer temps and lower winds) to do the more involved outside tasking, but we still need to add snow to the melter to make water, fuel the generators, move between buildings, and check on scientific instruments.

Daytime….

Nighttime!!