ARCTIC
FIRST
Brian Cunningham
INTRODUCTION
In August 1999 Christine and I spent eleven glorious
days hiking through the Auyuittuq National Park across Baffin Islands
Cumberland Peninsula. This spectacular glacial valley is lined on either
side by some of the worlds most imposing granite walls, riven by
glaciers which spill chaotically from the Penny Icecap. It was the most
awe-inspiring scenery wed ever seen.
Half-way through the trek Id made up my mind to
return and attempt to complete the route as a solo run in under 24hrs.
Our hike through Auyuittuq in1999 was led by Paul Landry
who along with his long time partner Matty McNair run NorthWinds Arctic
Adventures from their delightful home in Iqaluit. Both are vastly experienced
arctic travellers who have made many remarkable journeys in the arctic.
Most notably, in 1997 Matty led the British Womans Relay Expedition
to the North Pole. Her book "On Thin Ice" brilliantly recounts
this epic achievement. This year Paul and a friend from Iqaluit, Paul
Crowley, became the first to retrace Pearys route to the North Pole.
In stark contrast to the typical British sledge-hauling expedition, they
did it in style. No drama, no frostbite, no starvation, no epic personality
clashes the two Pauls had fun and their friendship grew stronger
during the 51days they spent together on the polar ice.
Initially I think Paul viewed my idea of running through
Auyuittuq with a degree of scepticism. However, by the end of the trek
wed become friends and the seeds of a joint run had been sowed.
A month later Paul, Matty and their daughter Sarah spent a weekend with
us in Bolton. Paul and I did a long hour run together on the South Pennine
Moors on an unforgettable autumn day. A thin, cool breeze sighed through
the stiff reeds and riffled the flaxen grass. Long brush strokes of blackness
painted the landscape with contrast. There was magic everywhere. By the
end of the run we were a team and the run was on.
Paul went back to Baffin to prepare for his epic dog-sledge
trip to the North Pole and I began to grind out the miles on the moors
with a light heart.
|
THE RUN
A huge weight
lifted from our shoulders as we leapt ashore on to the shingle beach
at
the end of North Pangnirtung Fiord. After
the uncertainties of the previous two days, it was a considerable relief
to take the first step on the run
that had occupied my thoughts for almost 12 months. At last we were in
control of our own destiny. It was 7:30pm and the evening shadows were
warmly illuminating the huge granite walls which towered above us. A
delicious
moment, full of excitement and anticipation. By the time wed shouldered
our KIMM sacks, the Inuit hunting canoe and its skipper had already started
on its long and lonely journey back to Broughton Island. We had the world
to ourselves. Paul led off along the vestigial track which followed
the eastern edge of the Owl River. The pace was fast but we were full
of energy and excitement. The track soon faded and we took a direct line
up a gentle ascent over some rough terrain. The early flush of energy
was quickly gone and within a few minutes I began to feel the pace.
"Paul, I think were going too fast. Perhaps
we should eat our Cudahy Butties and settle down a bit."
I said, hoping he wouldnt notice my heavy breathing.
(The
Mike Cudahy recipe for a high energy butty is mashed bananas and honey.
He swears by them. My version didnt look right
so Paul suggested enriching the unappealing brown slurry with peanut
butter. A large dollop was added and henceforth the mixture took on
the consistency
and texture of diarrhea. We made up two sandwiches and stored them in
airtight ziplock bags where they festered for about 48hrs before we
consumed
them.)
Paul looked at me a little incredulously. I knew what
he was thinking. Only a short time ago on the boat we had consumed a huge
pasta meal, a thermos of hot chocolate, a couple of inches of heavy duty
salami, a large chunk of cheese and two bananas.
"Im worried that we might run out of gas later
in the run and we might as well stoke up early." I continued lamely.
The truth was that I was finding the pace too fast and I knew that my
best chance of slowing Paul down was by getting him to eat the huge leaden
doorstep of a sandwich.
We walked in silence for five minutes while we chewed.
Having downed our sandwiches I deliberately took the lead and set off
at a measured pace. Five minutes later it was all too much for Paul. He
pulled out of my slipstream and glided past on the pretext that he probably
knew the route better than I did. The pace quickened significantly and
I spent the next hour trying to work out alternative strategies to slow
him up.
|
We made good progress
on a perfect evening. The sun played peek-a-boo behind the mountains
to our west as a gentle southerly kept us from overheating. Darkness crept
over us and the head-wind gradually strengthened. For a while I busied
myself doing the arithmetic. 10% reduction in speed for every 10mph of
headwind. The wind was about 20mph so the run could take about 20% longer.
I still reckoned we could do it in under the 24hrs but if the weather
closed in and we had rain on the wind, then it would be nip-and-tuck.
In time we came to one of the emergency shelters which
have been built by the park authorities as a safety precaution. These
shelters are designed to keep out the polar bears which occasionally wander
into the valley. On his previous hike through the valley Paul had stashed
small caches of granola and chocolate bars at several of the shelters.
As Paul fumbled around the eaves of the for the hidden food, an obviously
alarmed face appeared at the tiny window. The door creaked open and a
still-scared German gawked at us in amazement. The situation was bizarre
and he displayed a strange mixture of relief that we werent
a couple of Polar Bears snuffling around the hut; guilt because
he knew well enough that he shouldnt be spending the night in the
shelter; and utter bewilderment at the sight of two lightly clad runners
who had appeared from nowhere and were now heading off into the night.
Fortified by the snack we carefully picked our way across
the boulder-strewn terrain in the gathering gloom. A full moon briefly
peeped over the Eastern wall of the Pass before dipping beneath it again.
Soon we were running silently across small sand-dunes which glistened
like snow in the moons ghostly afterglow. Ahead lay Mt Asgard, its
white icing cap gleaming bright in the night. For a while time stood still
and the magic of the arctic filled my senses. We moved to the rhythm of
land, playing our part in natures orchestra. And our friendship
grew in the silence.
The head-wind slowed us and we fretted a little. Then
to my surprise, there was a tiny lull a moment of near stillness,
hardly long enough to notice but a lull nonetheless. I moved up to Pauls
shoulder and said:
"Paul, I think the wind is going to die away. While
lying a-hull to a gale we always used to listen out for the first lull.
After that the wind always faded."
He looked at me quizzically. We were a long way from
the ocean. Ten minutes later there was another, longer lull and in a further
half hour only a faint zephyr lingered.
Eight hours into the run we arrived at the Rundle River.
Already the darkness was giving way to the new day. Exactly one year previously
and three days into our hike Id first broached the subject of a
run through the Pass.
"How long do you think youd take to get to
the Rundle?" Paul asked.
"About seven and a half hours." I replied.
|
Considering wed
been running in near darkness for several hours, I was well pleased with
our time of eight hours. Pauls pace had been spot-on and mine would
have been too slow. Without a moments hesitation Paul grabbed my
arm and plunged into the foaming torrent. The Rundle was the first of
the Passs two rivers which needed respect. On this occasion it presented
no difficulties and in a few minutes we were making our way up the overgrown
moraine towards Glacier Lake. Id hoped for a brief rest but Paul
was on a mission so we pushed hard. The going became rougher underfoot
as we crossed the moraines which bounded the Highway Glacier. Despite
the nagging feeling that the pace was still too hot I was feeling no discomfort
whatsoever. Clearly Pauls pace was spot on. In the twelve preceding
weeks Id done six ultras between 40 and 60 miles in length. Five
of them had been solo and the 60 miler was done overnight. I concluded
that I could trust the miles that were in my legs and the mental strength
Id developed during those long lonely runs. By contrast, Paul continued
to give every indication of being completely "bonk" proof. It
was hardly surprising. For 51 days on his epic polar journey he had run
behind his dog sledge for about six hours every day.
The next three hours were very tough as we traversed
the shores of Glacier and then Summit Lakes. This tortuous route entailed
traversing beneath the Norman, the Turner and the Caribou Glaciers, each
with its pair of unstable lateral moraines and each with a freezing
torrent issuing from its snout. The weather teased us for a while
before settling down to a dull day with the wind kindly from behind. We
were very glad to get to the end of Summit Lake. This stretch from the
Rundle was the crux of the run. From here to the end at Mt Overlord was
relatively straightforward and slightly downhill.
We called Christine on the Iridium phone and gave her
an ETA or between 2:30 and 3:00pm at Overlord. I let Paul do the talking.
She immediately set about arranging the boat while we sat in the lee of
the Rangers hut, contentedly eating our chocolate bars. We rested
at Summit for 30 minutes. About twelve hours into the run and wed
probably not stopped for much more than 5 minutes at any one time. The
rest did us good and when we set off along the track we were still remarkably
fresh.
When we set off again, I took the lead for the first
time for hours. We made good progress and quickly arrived at the second
of the two worrying rivers. It looked low. In 1999 wed had to wait
until the following morning before we could safely cross. Without hesitating
Paul grabbed my hand and we safely worked our way across. Mt Thors
magnificent overhanging wall was now dominating the view and our minds
drifted to the solo climber that was ensconced on the face. Hed
already been there for several weeks and had the prospect of several more
before he would gain the summit. What a grind that must be! By contrast
we flowed lightly down the gently descending track with the prospect of
finishing our run in a few short hours. The rain arrived along with a
strengthening northerly wind so we donned our waterproofs, got our hoods
up and settled down to a steady jog.
|
In time we saw a party of hikers ahead. As usual my pace
began to increase. Propelled by pride we steamed past them with only the
briefest of greetings. Only fear is a more powerful motivator. They were
burdened down with huge packs and wore full waterproofs which gleamed
wetly in the rain. They would still have another overnight camp before
getting to Mt Overlord. The contrast couldnt have been greater.
With luck we would be having a hot shower in the Auyuittuq Lodge at Pangnirtung
by mid-afternoon. I maintained the tempo until we crested a low rise and
then immediately throttled back to a walk. Paul nearly collided with me
from behind.
"What are you doing?" he asked "We were
going so well."
"Thought we could walk for a bit" I replied
with a smile.
Paul strode
off and was soon 100m ahead. I had arrived at that pleasant state where
it was clear we would complete the run in less than 20hrs irrespective
of how fast we chose to run. Somehow the urgency that had been our constant
companion for so long had vanished. There didnt seem to be any
point in pushing hard for the final three or four hours. This could well
be my last visit to Auyuittuq and I wanted to savour what remained of
it. It was the sublime time of the run. Success was assured but a part
of me didnt want it to end. Paul would have preferred to have continued
running but he kept the lid on his frustration. For a while I was alone
with my thoughts. Soon my mind was drifting serenely amongst treasured
memories of other big runs. I concluded that this was probably the best.
Paul waited for me at the footbridge across the Weasel
narrows before hurrying on again. The rain pattered on my hood. I was
glad of the big anoraks protection. For a while the weather looked
very threatening but once again it surprised us by lifting and thinning.
Soon a watery sun was brightening the day. After a while, Paul suggested
I take the lead. Hed spotted the fact that I tended to dawdle when
he was ahead. We set off again at a brisker pace which met with Pauls
approval. Soon we were back to a respectable run/walk tempo which made
short work of the final three hours. As we approached the emergency shelter
at Overlord, Paul tentatively suggested we finish with a flourish. Chest
out, knees up, we ran strongly for the final stretch. On reaching the
deserted hut we hugged each other, grinning broadly with the satisfaction
that we had done it in style.
|
EPILOGUE
An hour later Christine arrived with the boat. She was
full of energy and life and her smile was more beautiful than ever.
We
endured a further 24hrs delay at Pangnirtung before the weather finally
allowed
us to fly back to Iqaluit. On our second evening
in the Auyuittuq Lodge in Pangnirtung the party wed overtaken in
such style arrived at the lodge. After wed gone through they had
been overtaken by a party of British climbers who had been on Mt Asgard.
They had walked together for a while, exchanging experiences. Suddenly
one of the Brits dried up in mid-sentence. He was staring at our footprints
in the sand.
"Christ!" he said "I dont know who
those guys were but I sure as hell know theyre Brits. Those are
Walsh tracks!"
Apart
from bruised feet from the rough going, neither of us had any problems
either
on or after the run. Although it was a tough
19 hours, neither of us experienced a "low". There was no doubt
that both of us could have continued more or less indefinitely
wed reached the flat portion of the performance curve where our
form no longer seemed to deteriorate with time.
Back
in Iqaluit we were interviewed about our run by The Canadian Broadcasting
Corporation. When asked by the interviewer what
was next, Paul replied that he and I were going to do the Greenland Icecap
together in 2001. The interviewer looked stunned. "Not running
with dogs!" Paul quickly added. |
LOGISTICS
In some respects the logistics of this run were more
complicated hazardous than the run itself. In order to get to the start
we had to fly from Iqaluit, the capital of Baffin, to Broughton Island
via Pangnirtung and then take a small boat up the North Pangnirtung Fiord
to the start of the run. Although it all sounds straightforward, the arctic
weather is always a problem and flights are notoriously unreliable. Ice
in the fiord can also be a problem.
This year our flight from Iqaluit was delayed for 24hrs.
When we landed at Pangnirtung en route to Broughton Island the weather
closed in and it was touch and go getting off again. The captain informed
us that if the weather was bad at Broughton Island we would turn around
and go back to Iqaluit. Despite his gloomy announcement we did manage
to land, now 28hrs behind our original schedule. The plan was to start
the run around 7pm, thereby ensuring we arrived at the worst river crossings
in the middle of the night when they were at their least dangerous. To
try and get back on schedule, albeit a day late, we managed to get a small
hunting canoe with a large outboard motor to take us to the start. This
cut the journey time to 2hrs 15mins but traded speed for comfort.
On completing the run we needed to arrange another boat
to take us back to Pangnirtung. Should anything delay us on the run it
might be too late for the boat to pick us up. If this looked like being
the case, Christine was loaded up with two massive rucksacks containing
camping gear, food and spare clothing. The plan was for her to set up
camp and wait until we arrived. As it happened we didnt need this
contingency support but it would be foolhardy to undertake such a long
and exposed run without a back-up plan.
We carried an Iridium phone for emergency communications.
Shortly afterwards, Iridium terminated operations and shut the entire
system down. They had been insolvent for some time.
|
|