THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN

Arriving in Clyde River during a blizzard was never part of what we envisaged. With Chris from the RCMP shouting over the noise of the wind that he had a load of our stuff and we could meet him once we checked out the local hotel. Bundling into the warm hotel was a treat as new and exciting smells wafted past us from the kitchen. Emily who runs it was incredibly kind to us despite our dishevelled appearance and biohazard smell having not washed for over a month. The price was astronomical compared to our budget. The hotel is in a beautiful spot with views over the frozen bay and mountains behind. Emily pointed out my mum had phoned trying to sort out some supplies that she was sending up including some whiskey. It turns out Clyde is also a community within Nunavut with a by-law requiring a permit to buy alcohol as well as the need to ship it up once it has gone through a committee. So it's safe to so say we didn't manage to get any.

Trudging back to the RCMP station in the wind and snow wasn't pleasant but after explaining our predicament to Chris he kindly let us stay in the police station as well as the use of our first hot shower since we left Qik. In a semi zombie state we ate, showered and crashed to sleep feeling almost normal. It certainly felt strange waking up in a heated building and simply turning on a tap rather than having to melt snow for water. With an aim of getting out within 4 days or so and a long list of things to do the race was on. The most major of  our tasks being to sort out our depot drops for the onward leg. Like in Qik there were some huge maps on the wall of the detachment which we could survey every time we passed during our stay. It served as a very useful reminder of what we still had to cover as well as being able to see how far we had come... whilst also planning our onward journey with it. It was fascinating seeing all the names of the mountains and fjords. Names like Ayr pass, Kintyre point, Patterson fjord, Royal Society fjord, Cape Carmichael and many others with British and particularly Scottish references. Not surprisingly with the likes of John Rae doing the lions share of the exploring up here. We met up with Chris and his partner Shaun at the station in the morning who were full of ideas on who we could speak to. It was a stroke of luck that the first in the list was a guy called Jake who not only has travelled large sections of the area by dog sled but also knew Sarah and Boomer who are currently dog sledding round Baffin and were due in any day. Meeting up with him as well as a few locals, including an elder, we had a pretty experienced bunch examining our map and pointing out areas of interest. Time certainly flew by and soon are map was annotated up with notes on where bears, bad ice, potential routes and an idea of where base jumpers go. The last being more out of interest rather than something that either of us wish to do. Back at the RCMP station we re-examined the huge map of the area, we were in luck potentially for using some of the huts for depots with them being nicely spread out. We were also introduced to a possible skidoo driver who was going to meet us the following day with prices for the trip.

After a few days in Clyde river we can finally see the bay we skied up!

Wandering about Clyde in the sunshine was certainly a different experience to the previous day of blizzards. Turns out it is renowned by local pilots for the worst weather in the region and it is normal for these bad spells to roll through every few days (as we soon found out). With a rather long to do list and mixed emotions...relaxing vs getting back on the trail, the following days were a whirlwind of activity. A large amount of time was spent counting out cakes, flapjacks, beef jerky, chocolate and maxinutrition trying our hardest not to dip into our limited supplies. As I tucked into a packet of chocolate which on the ice could be gobbled up in a few seconds made me pause as I felt slightly ill with all the sweet items we had eaten.

Sorting out the depots was proving challenging. Most of the locals don't tend to do the big trips between Clyde and pond till April once the ice has had time to flatten, the days are longer and the temperatures are warmer. Due to this the current ice conditions and the fact that the caribou/ polar bear hunts had been postponed meant that people weren't travelling north particularly as far as we were hoping them to go. We were aiming for two depots splitting the journey into almost perfect thirds. After much negotiating, one driver fell through and we had to settle on plan b. This was for a single drop slightly closer than we anticipated but still far enough away that the second start although heavy would be a feasible weight.

We also adapted the plan to take in Sam fjord particular after Jake and his wife Sheri showed us some incredible pictures of the region. People travel up here just to visit them and in occasions BASE jump off the giant peaks! In between all this we were introduced a delicious local snack at the hotel called bannocks I think they were called. These moreish deep fried bread snacks were exactly what was required by a couple of lads who were eating pretty much everything in sight. Along with all of this was a busy social calendar with dinner kindly put on by Shaun and his wife for a fantastic spicy vegetable curry followed on the next night by Chris and his wife for another treat of pasta followed by cherry pie. It was incredibly kind of them welcoming us into their family homes, the company and a different diet to our normal rehydrated meals. We have eaten all the varieties enough times to work out the pecking order. We did unfortunately miss the local community feast partly whilst trying to sort jobs which inevitably take longer than expected as well as a blizzard forecast speeding up proceedings for a much earlier finish than anticipated. Mainly due to us finally sorting out our depot drops as well as fixing up our skis which we spent a happy few hours drilling and riveting our kicker skins (the bit that provides us with traction under our feet) onto the ski as the stitching on the straps holding them in place had disintegrated.

Some of the awesome views to come...

With the weekend approaching which tends to be the stations busy period we had to find a new place to crash. Walking about town whilst a blizzard was happening reminded us of our arrival, it was pretty awful weather and trying to cross town took far longer with you not being able to see where you were exactly. We were kindly taken in by the nurses of Clyde. Gary did a sterling job of feeding us up on caribou stew and ice cream. A real treat whilst discussing a whole variety of trips we had all done as well as climbing and skiing. Being able to sleep on the sofa was the closest to a bed that we had had in over 2 months both crashing out in minutes. With the blizzard still on our friends Sarah and Boomer who are dog sledding were unable to set off. Despite us expecting them to be chilling it was a hive of activity as they helped their hosts Jake and Shari set his sled up who had decided to head north with them partly in preparation for a dog sled race going from pond inlet to arctic bay some 400 miles roughly. We joined them for Shari's amazing home-made pizza making me reminisce about the ones i make at home before heading back to Gary's for evening super of caribou stew, more ice cream and catching up on some climbing/ BASE jumping films he had. A pretty awesome way to chill before heading off the next day. The day had come and we were finally off. After 5 full days it was only marginally longer than we had expected.

Saying final good byes in many ways felt strange as within such a short space of time many of the people had shown a tremendous amount of hospitality to strangers who had walked off the ice. Levi the outfitter rolled up with the two skidoos transporting us and our gear first to our drop then the food to the depot. It was a huge amount of stuff. The dogs unfortunately had to come in the same box as myself and Jamie. Having seen the mess they had created in the last box we had been tactical with our feeding times in the hope of minimise a repeat. With bin bags covering our legs, two nervous looking dogs and even more nervous lads we headed off. The start was thankfully slow as the skidoos meanders there way out onto the sea ice. The dogs unable to sit still kept trying to scramble out of the box over the top of us. As they began to calm down we started to pick up speed causing us all to gain air time over the bumps. It was funny initially until the combination of factors caused Colin to poo in the corner. We now had a ride smelling of engine fumes, dog poo and dog breath. In a confined space this was pretty desperate. On top of that Colin was also drooling constantly like a tap. Tala looked like she had been in the shower while Jamie and I were trying desperately to use the bin bags to prevent us from getting shit or drool on us. Fortunately as this point the dogs began getting the idea that sitting or lying down was more comfortable as we all settled into the three hour ride with the occasional spells of air time. It turned out myself and Jamie could almost find a position to sleep in until we hit a bump as our heads were resting on the ledge we would drop onto. Pulling up for the stop, we exited to beautiful views of the valley ahead with wind causing some of the snow to spin in mini twisters.

It was a pretty special way of starting the second leg.

AN INTERLUDE IN CLYDE RIVER

(a blog from Jamie) As the wind smashed into the side of the first vehicle we had seen in thirty days, the driver wound down the window, winced at the force of the storm, and said cheerfully "welcome to Clyde River", thankfully pointing us in the direction of the RCMP detachment. We had made it. The last two days had seen us cover over 56km in dense fog, buffeted by withering winds that had steadily built to gusts of 40mph as a we crossed a seemingly endless succession of broken ice.

Clyde is a natural mid-point on our journey and the knowledge that this was such a key objective for us along with the incentives of walls, heating and possibly a hot shower meant we were willing to push hard to reach it. The journey up the last section of coastline has been long and windy; with extended days of hauling on broken ice making the trip physically hard work and meaning we needed to be extra vigilant to the risks of cold and fatigue. Our sleds however have been steadily lightened and as the daylight hours have increased as has our fitness and ability to push ourselves harder than before whilst staying at safe level of knackered and on the right side of exhaustion. With this has come the satisfaction of seeing our daily mileage start to climb and our spirits rise as the distances to Clyde began to become feasible measurements and no longer unobtainable distances that only existed in the realms of dreamers or those with motorised transport.

The final two days to Clyde were a bit of a crux for us. Two carrots were dangling; the first a hut at the edge of the peninsular which would be a welcome relief after the last seven days of windswept tundra and the second, Clyde, sitting out of sight but within touching distance, we could almost smell the fruit and vegetables in the Northern Store. We kicked off for the hut with a strong headwind that gradually faded away to leave us bathed in sunshine and enjoying the sight of the first big icebergs we had seen for weeks on the horizon. Like container ships gone astray and stranded against the frozen sea line, these mammoth blocks of floating water grow larger and taller as the sun distorts and stretches them into a mirage of illusions often to staggering proportions. These ice bergs often sit on the horizon for two or three days looming majestically over the flat ice like cathedrals of electric blue gracefully decaying in the Arctic sunshine. However, as you get closer they start to shrink rather than grow until as you reach and pass the block of freshwater you have been endlessly looking at it is no bigger than a decent sized church. Still impressive but not quite the Salisbury or Winchester-sized Gothic monument you were expecting.

We had a tough time over the rough ice surrounding the point and as we rounded the Cape and turned west the freshening breeze gave us cause to eagerly scan the horizon for the hut. As we have been disappointed so many times before this time we were ready for the lack of any human-made shelters and a good thing too. No visible hut. After a brief search we tucked into the headland and found the most sheltered spot we could, comforting ourselves in the knowledge that with a big effort the next day we would be in Clyde and hut or not, without today's slog those bright lights would still be out of reach.

Colin, who had been given bail the day before had steadfastly refused to be caught at night, even forgoing his dinner, stubborn little git and was duly caught that morning - his growling tummy overcoming his usual razor sharp wit and cunning. Similar to a slightly demented dribbling drunk, convinced that a dirty kebab is a good idea and that he can make a run for it from the large, knife-wielding owner without paying, not realising the glass door to the shop is closed - running straight into it and knocking himself out. Colin sulked for the rest of the day.

Despite securing Colin, we had awoken to a world of white. The fog had descended and enclosed us making the days difficult task even harder. As we set out we realised what a great camp spot we had chosen and the wind began to get stronger and stronger as we moved away from the sheltering coast line, battering us in the backs, pushing and urging us forward. The final blow came when after an hour we hit a patch of very rough ice that slowed us down to a crawl for the next two hours. Needing to make a lot of ground, we grunted and crunched our way through the blocks of broken sea, never seeing more than twenty yards ahead so never knowing when it might end. Thankfully it did end, and as we headed into flatter ice the clouds began drifting higher, and the land we were heading for came into focus giving us the shot of motivation we needed to believe there might still be a radiator at the end of the day. We continued slogging until finally the GPS said less than 1km to Clyde and with baited breath we scanned the horizon. When we were supposedly 300m away from a town of 1500 people and yet couldn't see an aerial, a post-box, even a skidoo trail we began to think something might be up. It turns out the Garmin coordinates for Clyde are 4.2k to the East of the town and with the wind now gusting above 35mph this was an extra few kms we didn't really need. Eventually however, out of the mist appeared a collection of man-made objects, first barely distinguishable then growing more solid and become the buildings, street lights and boats of an Arctic coastal town in the grip of winter.

As we dragged our pulks through town, too exhausted to realise fully that we had arrived, Clyde RCMP Detachment Commander Chris Moreau opened the front door of his house and said "you must be the British explorers", we both smiled and thought well I suppose we are now aren't we?

THE GREAT ESCAPE

Finally back on the sea ice, our mid-way point and resupply location lay ahead, invisible to us. However, rather than being frustrated at feeling like you aren't getting any closer this was a welcome sight compared to the hills, rough terrain, false summits and rocks which prevent us from taking the most direct path. With the edge of an island set as our target there was a renewed vigour in our steps. We bolted out of this imaginary start gate. It felt amazing to be sliding along, not worrying about rocks, and just enjoying the tugging on the lines rather than feeling like you're horizontal and trying to pull some monumental object like in a strong man competition. Our pace naturally slowed as the ice undulated along in its never-flat state. Despite the improvement, we still dreamed of pancake flat ice with a dusting of snow. Our search for perfect ice continued. We have been ticking off the kilometers since leaving the headland. Our initial plan had been to head overland for the final leg into Clyde. Due to our last experience this was out of the question, we thought far better to take our chances with the ice gods and their beautiful whites and blues rather than the ones controlling the barren and stark land routes. We were making fantastic progress towards our headland with a band of ice appearing on the horizon. As we came closer these towering blocks broke through the surface creating an almost impenetrable wall of ice. It was the worst ice we had seen all trip. Fortunately we spotted a way round. A glimmer of hope. Thoughts of “have we chosen the right route?” started to eek into our minds as we closed in on the second headland and the possibility of a hut for the night. As the wind picked up we arrived at this remote and desolate hut with a strange and small lookout post on roof. It was possibly a whaling station in the summer as it overlooked two bays. After clearing the snow, piled as high as the door, we staggered in. Typical for the larger huts it was colder than outside. The main benefit was we were out of the wind and a rickety bunk bed sat in the corner, which very quickly we were tucked up inside. Stoves burned gently next to us still in a bid to warm the place up. We were awoken to Tala licking my face and jumping up towards Jamie’s bunk above me. We lay in our bags drinking hot tea, cradling a hot bottle and discussing options if the ice ahead resembled what we had seen the night before. The options weren't great; head back down the coast to another route overland or cut across from near our current position. This would slow us down considerably and possibly provide another torturous set of days. We decided to climb a nearby hill for a better view. Reaching the top having been crossing fingers, toes and anything else flexible we looked up the coast. There was a slither of "flat" ice. It was fantastic news, we could head up using our route. Pulks ready, dogs in position we headed north again in beautiful sunshine and a sharp breeze that cut through any chink in our armour of clothing. We walked past huge explosions of ice that looked like giant marshmallows that the sea had forced to the surface in a mess of blue and white. They are an incredible sight and demonstration of nature's brutal power as we weaved between them on our way up the coast towards our next stop. With forecasts of 30mph and higher winds we dug in, digging a small hole for the tent behind a slight hill in this tundra coastline. Guy lines were all out and the sleds tied on for extra stability. We headed to bed wishing for soft winds and a good night's sleep.

Colin is back

Waking the next morning to gentle flapping wasn't what we expected but it was a bitterly cold day. When the sun finally poked its head out we could begin to see just how flat and barren the landscape was as sea and land flowed into one another under a blanket of snow and ice. It was here the troubles began. Colin, who was attached to the sled, launched a cunning ploy create chaos with his lines and Jamie’s harness. As Jamie scrambled about on the ground with the line all of a sudden he was holding both ends. His line had broken. Colin, who is usually not too switched on, spotted his chance and made a bid for freedom. He spent the rest of the afternoon sprinting about with Tala just out of our reach. You can imagine him screaming "freedom" (obviously in a Scottish accent despite his Inuit upbringing) on every pass as part of his hedonistic and wild afternoon antics continued until the end of the day where he collapsed in a ball. Trying to catch him was futile as he waited till you got close and then got up and trotted off. Maybe food will bring him closer! The morning brought strong winds; Tala was coated in a layer of snow, as was the entire tent, with one side building up quite a large drift. We thought it was too strong to ski in but it had brought Mr Colin in for food and capture. It was a stroke of fortune before turning our attention to securing the tent more and building a snow wall to sit out the weather and wait for more favourable conditions for our approach to Clyde River.

GINGERLOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

(Jamie) It is northwards to Clyde and so northwards we went, leaving a warm and comfortable hut for the sea ice and our trusty tent once more. In good spirits and now both showing signs of good beard growth, things were looking up.

Growing facial hair has always been an issue for Benno so he has been delighted to start to show the signs of some serious progress on his chin and chops and I have been happy to see that his barb is also decidedly gingery in colour. It's an odd phenomenon that neither of has another ginger hair on our body, we have thoroughly checked, apart from the area between clavicle and nose. So leaving the hut, with a dash of the fox about us, we were determined to make a coastal point some 20km away but with our now reloaded sleds weighing in at around 50kgs heavier, life moved at a slower rate. We were both taken by surprise at quite how much more effort we were now putting in to move the sleds and our dream destination for the evening seemed sure to elude us. That is until we saw the bears- it's amazing what adrenaline will do for your daily mileage!

We had seen lots of tracks at the hut and criss-crossing our path for the past 6 hours, confidently announcing to each other that this was a male or here you could see a young mother and cub and that this track is clearly weeks old when Benno stopped and squinted at the horizon. “It's a bear” I replied as soon as I followed his finger and saw a mother and two cubs around 600m away, ambling along towards us very bear like and pausing occasionally to stand on hind legs to smell us and get a better view. Having rapidly dumped harnesses and grabbed shotguns, we secured Tala, hid the marmalade and loaded our bear bangers. As we watched the mother trundle closer who should we suddenly see bolting towards the bear at full pelt but Tala, having slipped her lead and seeing this as a wonderful opportunity to get aquatinted with her polar cousin. As the queen bee of Battersea Park and used to lording it over the Cockapoos and French Bulldogs, Tala is not lacking in self confidence and despite us shouting and swearing at her, she wasn't coming back for anyone. Benno and I watched in horrified silence both thinking this was going to end in one of two ways, neither happy. Tala would either get mauled or killed by the bear, very bad news meaning we would be left with only Colin who was trying his hardest to look in the other direction and pretend he couldn't see the bear, or Tala would get close enough to severely piss the bear off and when she realised this wasn't the big husky from the park and that maybe a play fight was out of the question she would run back towards us bringing an angry and irate mother bear with her. Tala however proved us wrong, she fully charged the bear, ears up, legs galloping, taking entirely airborne strides until the bear turned and with her cubs ran as fast as they could in the opposite direction. Tala chased her for around 600/700m, barked at the bear quite a lot as if to say " and don't come back" then turned round and strutted back to us looking very pleased with herself. Needless to say we weren't shouting at her anymore and she received lots of attention and praise once she had sauntered back to our position, head held high and in expectation of some flapjack for her bravery.

As the light faded and we watched the bear and Cubs saunter off into the dusk we decided to push on to put some distance between us and this large and powerful creature. It is a strange experience being separated from a large, hungry, predator by only an open stretch of flat sea ice and in some ways it felt as if we were watching the whole experience on the most vivid wide screen imaginable, which I suppose in some ways we were. Still it's nice to have a shotgun and a dog like Tala just in case you can't find the remote to change channel fast enough when things get a bit too real.

So we made the Point that evening and set off for our next destination, Cape Henry Kater. Having poured over maps looking at this area for many weeks it is always gratifying to arrive at a large, much anticipated check point as it helps validate the miles you have already completed and allows you to settle on your next objective. Having followed our neatly marked map exactly (EXACTLY) to the spot where the Inuit hunters had told us to cross the Cape, we were a little taken aback by the scale of the river valley running down the land. We had been told to expect a ‘steep bit’ at the beginning but the ravine slicing its way down a considerable Munro sized peak was not what we expected. Optimistic as ever we assumed the valley must level out behind and so began the bastard task of lifting the sleds over the 100ms or so of rocky beach and dragging them uphill. After one particular stint of shuttling the sleds up an increasingly steep slope we decided that a quick recce was in order to scout the terrain ahead and if this was a feasible or ludicrous undertaking. After 30 minutes it became obvious that getting a skidoo up this slope, let alone a 140kg man powered sled, would be a tough task and that turning round was the only feasible option. We walked back down to the sleds, which from our new perspective were resting on a slope resembling a challenging red run and we both marveled that we managed to get them that far uphill without realising maybe this was not the right route. We needed some help and when you are pissed off, shattered and confused on Baffin Island the only people to call are the Qik RCMP. We spoke to Chris and John first assuring them that we were fine and hadn't injured ourselves and asked that they tracked down Jaipotte for us, whose line on the map we had been diligently following. Thirty minutes later Jai was explaining to us that there is a hut to look for right by the valleys entrance and we were about 8km to the west of the position we needed and that our map was very hard to draw accurate lines on. We headed back down the slope as the sun began to fade, frustrated to have wasted a day, a huge amount of energy and our moods only briefly brightened when Colin managed to wrap Benno's legs up and send him down the slope head first as we were descending. Well it brightened my day although I daren’t laugh as B looked like he was about to skin Colin on the spot. That night was definitely a brownie night and we gratefully ate the last of Celine’s excellent treats and enjoyed her final quote which was, once again, oddly fitting.

The next day we found the hut and valley and with the river frozen our progress and morale increased as the day brightened up with the sleds skimming lightly over the still river despite going uphill. This was not to last. After 7k the river poured into a large frozen lake which was also easy to cross, however with the fog creeping in and an alarming uphill section in front of us we call it a day and camped in a shallow saddle. The next morning was bright and clear which revealed to us in all its glory the task that lay ahead; an undulating hillside, reminiscent of the Scottish highlands, dotted with incalculable rocks which poked menacingly through the snow. Jai's sage advice to "just follow the land" seemed a little optimistic now and so we headed North as best we could, aiming for the lowest saddle on the horizon and hoping to find a path through. The going was harder than either of us thought possible and always tinged with the knowledge that we didn't know if this was best course, having no map of a small enough scale to be of use for detailed navigation. The horrible small rocks sticking through the thin snow cover meant that we zigzagged constantly, often pulling for 5 or 6 metres for only 1 metre forward gained, all the while heading uphill. After 5 Hours of this we were both exhausted and beginning to feel cold despite the heavy work load, a sure sign we were running low on energy. Finally we crested the top of the saddle with the glorious sight of a flattish landscape ahead and in the distance the exit valley on the other side of the Cape clearly visible. Benno summed it up perfectly when he said "I feel a bit emotional".

Not only could we see that the land beyond was tolerably flat we also had a direction to aim for in the form of a topographical feature large enough to be clear on our maps, which put an end to those nagging doubts we were heading into a range of mountains. We trudged off down the hill exhausted and feeling depressed by the reading on the GPS telling us that despite all of our back breaking hard work we had only covered 6km in a straight line. The next day showed no sign of a letup in work load. Pulling pulks on anything other than flat terrain is horrible, any change in gradient is instantly noticeable and made painfully obvious by the biting of the harness into your back and yet we covered some good ground so slept thinking we would be back on the sea ice tomorrow evening. Oh what fools! Those last 16km proved to be every bit as difficult as the first section, constant ups and downs, rocks everywhere and the previously very obvious valley and river system slowly becoming a large drainage area for the surrounding marshes with many false exits and non -draining lakes meaning finding the actual watercourse was sometimes impossible. Both knackered from the previous 3 days our paced slowed and despite eventually finding he main river channel we both realised that this Cape was going to be the gift that kept on giving as night and the temperature dropped. Waking the next morning to a fresh breeze and -38 on the thermometer did little to lift our spirits and we packed in silence and headed back to the river channel. The sea ice was tantalisingly close now, less than 3km away and yet we weren't counting any chickens this time. The river had steepened into a ravine, obviously a powerful white water rapid during the spring melt, unlike the lovely little river we had pottered up on the other side this was steep, dotted with huge boulders and filled with deep snow. Despite going downhill we had to pull the sleds almost as hard as if we had been going uphill and on three occasions 20ft snow drifts filled the valley forcing us to do shuttle runs to get the sleds over the top. Finally we turned a meander in the river and there, spread before us was the ice, flat and inviting like a massive rink ready to be skated happily across.

I can now fully sympathise with a female turtle desperately hauling herself slowly and painfully up a beach to lay her eggs. Some things are meant to be on land, some things are not. Pulks, and the silly ginger bearded Brits pulling them, are definitely sea mammals and the relief and accomplishment we felt as we crossed the tide gap back onto the ice must be the same as the turtle as she slips gratefully back into the ocean. I do doubt that the turtle turns round to the land, gives it the finger and tells it to go f*$k itself, but it's nice to think that maybe in her own way she does and after all, who could blame her.

So off we went again, ignoring the map and the drawn line that pointed us towards the next Cape and the recommended over-land crossing, instead heading belligerently for the sea ice and a coastal route beyond where we belong.

"Whatever you think you can do, or believe you can do, begin it. Action has magic, power and grace." *Thanks Celine!!!

HOME BAY & BEYOND

About 12 days ago we reached our first depot. It has been a bit of a shock to the system being back on the trail after everything that has happened, however Jamie and I have been trudging away the miles. We have constantly been looking for that flat and smooth ice where we just effortlessly and gracefully fly over the surface. Sadly we haven't found it, by any stretch of the imagination, and we now have first hand knowledge of what rough ice looks like. Our standards of what we can expect have almost certainly adjusted. We had been advised the area we were heading through had very rough ice, the locals keep saying its the worst it has been in years and they have been skirting around it. This process is much quicker on a skidoo and for us the maths made the tougher route the unfortunate winner. We made it to a large bay that we needed to cross but it was difficult to envisage the vastness of it due to the thick fog that hugged the surface of the ice and the setting sun. Waking the next morning we were met by beautiful blue skies, vast inlets, glorious mountains and ahead of us a rolling sea of broken ice. It was disheartening as our pace slowed to a crawl. It was like being in a constant scrummage with an opponent that lasted for the entire day plus part of the next. For every step won forward you could feel the energy being sapped out of you. Even at -30C we could feel ourselves breaking a sweat, something which we try our hardest to avoid as it clogs our clothes with ice. Being the slightly hotter team member, this comes from bitter experience as I squeezed myself into a ice crunching jacket the following morning.

IF

Despite the tough ice we have been touched by glorious weather. Excluding one day where ourselves and our tent were rattled by the 30mph+ winds. We awoke far earlier in the morning than the usual 5 am. Although we stayed wrapped in our sleeping bags for as long as possible we soon had to depart this safety blanket and meet the day head on. The snow swirled round our feet all day. It was impossible to spot a reasonable path through it all. Despite the balmy temperatures in the mid -20's the wind made the temperature plummet and every millimetre of skin needed to be covered. Despite our best efforts we would walk along constantly adjusting as the wind managed to squeeze its icy fingers into any gap. It also made the experience of going to the bathroom regardless of what it was, a very chilling and quick but necessary experience. There is only so long you can wait and unfortunately the weather doesn't seem to correlate with toilet stops.

After all of that we finally made our way to our next stash of food and fuel! We are now sitting here appreciating some warmth from some left over fuel in a good friend Jaipotties hut. We are enjoying munching through some planned treats plus some of the surplus goodies that we have.

The next part of our journey sees us heading over the final stretch of Home Bay and then towards Clyde River. It's still a fairly good chunk at around 200 km. Possibly more importantly it marks, to Qikiqtarjuaqs relief, the transition from being closer from one to the other. Chris and Halie can finally relax knowing that we aren't going to spring up and crash in the police station. Thanks again for the awesome hospitality. We are forever grateful.

So now just to push further north.

IF

In doggy news Colin and Tala are getting on incredibly well. Colin whines and pines after Tala when she goes about her wanderings each day. It does give us a slight headache but provides bears with a disincentive to approach. A win overall we have concluded. It might also explain why Talas trundling goes off into the distance until she appears to be a little speck before bounding back...particularly when she senses we are stopping for food. Her nuzzling Colin though suggests she does quite like him after all though.

HUTTER MADNESS

Round the Cape and Northward bound we go! Benno and I have started to rack up some respectable distances and rounded Cape Hooper in calm and clear weather and good spirits. The ice and snow Gods have not however been particularly kind to us and the conditions under sled and foot have been testing and frustrating. As our sleds get lighter the going is getting easier and the previously insurmountable ice and snow ridges can now be conquered with brute force and a lot of swearing. The lighter sleds bring us happiness in that they now feel like dragging a small dead cow behind you where as previously it had felt like trying to drag a dead Narwhal tusk and all through the deep snow, the difference I assure you is noticeable! This happiness is tinged with the knowledge that the sleds are light because they are rapidly emptying. Food, fuel, dog food and Benno's haemorrhoid cream are all disappearing at an alarming rate and it is a daily reminder to us of what is needed out here to keep your body functioning and our tent warm. We have however judged it correctly so far and we should be arriving at the next depot in 3 days time with 5 days worth of everything to spare which is good to know I case we get any unforeseen hold ups. Jaipotties hut that we are now aiming for has our cache of food and fuel is well marked and we have exact coordinates from the man himself, so finding it should pose no problem. Not so with the last two huts. There are few things more demoralising than promising yourself a warm evening in a hut, maybe even sitting in just your base layer if it gets warm enough. A raised platform to snuggle up together on, the ability to sit upright against a wall and the special thought of waking up in the morning without your beard frozen to your sleeping bag. We have had these heady dreams twice dashed now in the last week. True disappointment is knowing that despite having skied for 8 hours to reach a random point on a map given to you by a hunter 2 weeks previously, the 8ft by 8ft hut that is apparently "unmissable" is nowhere to be found. When moving by skidoo traveling 6-10kms in search of the exact spot is a 15min job and of no real concern but when that distance represents half a day's travel by foot, searching becomes a totally different proposition. Knowing you are probably only 1-2kms from a small shed whilst you put your tent up in -30c after a long and arduous day is completely gutting but at least it means we will really appreciate Jai's hut when we get there.

We are starting to see more bear tracks and in one area saw either a single bear running around a lot looking for something or the equivalent of a mass polar bear rave. We both agreed it was probably just one or maybe two sniffing about and cleared and recycled the shotguns. We have taken more recent glances over our shoulders just in case. A quick and casual reminder of whose Kingdom we are trespassing in and that vigilance is key to a safe journey through.

Jamie&Benno Hutter Madness

Our evening of sulking over a lack of huts was improved immeasurable by eating some of the brownies Celine had given us before we left. We had been saving them for a low moment and this seemed appropriate. As we broke the brownies hurriedly we saw pieces of paper tucked in between the slices. On our piece of paper was a quote from Ernest Shackleton giving us a timely reminder as we snuggled in our down sleeping bags next to our roaring camp stoves that somethings are best kept in perspective. A wonderful gesture from Celine and Yves and it helped turn a miserable night into a happy one as we sat like children at Christmas reading our quote and munching our brownies.

So onwards to the hut and some more biltong, chocolate buttons and no doubt more deep snow and horrible mounds of ice. However as the great Shackleton said "difficulties are just things to overcome after all" and we will be bearing that in mind as we go.

NORTHERN HOSPITALITY

We departed Qik early in the morning in a bid to get dropped off before our drivers for the day Jaipottie and his son kyle headed further north. Despite the time, Yves and Celine who have been incredibly helpful, gave us a departing gift of brownies!! We are definitely going to appreciate them when the going gets tough. After a few hours driving we were dropped off near to where Alex had his head injury and where we were all picked up. Smack bang in the middle of nowhere. Standing there realising this was our opportunity to continue further north towards Clyde river and continue learning about the east coast of Baffin Island. Despite the early start and following a late night doing last minute packing and final goodbyes, we still managed to get some good miles under our feet before stopping for the night on an open estuary between distant towering cliffs.

It was a beautiful spot with the mountains behind us still glowing in a pinky colour with the setting sun and the icebergs in the distance gradually turning from electric blue to green. We managed to get all the necessary snow melted for the next morning before hitting the sack. What struck us whilst lying there was the lack of sound. There was not a breath of wind and all we could hear throughout the night was the odd snore or one of the dogs have a short walk and a shake off. At least with the snoring it is obvious who the culprit is. I had forgotten my alarm was set for 5 am, I soon corrected it for a bit later in the morning when I realised it was still dark and freezing cold. Morning in the Arctic is always a nice surprise. All the moisture in your breath freezes to the lip of your sleeping bag during the night so when the time comes to wake up this has a tendency to flutter down onto your face in ice cold spots. On top of that if you happen to touch the side of the tent this has the same effect but on a grander scale! Heading off with the sun rising into the sky and burning off any cloud, we continued on to our depot of food. It was a fairly standard day with Tala running about in her crazy fashion, while Colin whined constantly at the injustice of being on a lead. Jemima I am afraid despite some spectacular final attempts to catch her, remains in Qik. We miss her dearly. We knew we were getting close. Coming round a head land a hut slowly appeared and what made it even more special was that smoke was rising from it. This meant one thing warmth! Then off one hill appeared two boys tobogganing down it and going off a small jump. It was quite a surreal sight. Tala meanwhile was ignoring all commands and exploring the new smells and surroundings. Arriving we were soon offered a warm room for night, a choice of caribo and Arctic char soup and some tea. Both soups Jamie and I decided were delicious. All this, despite our conversation either being translated by the 12 year old boy Edmond or through a mixture of English and hand signals. We couldn’t have asked for more then they provided us with a huge chunk of iceberg ice saving the task of collecting a load of snow to melt. It also makes some pretty epic tea, hot chocolate or maxi nutrition viper for recovering. Not quite as good as the glenlivet on iceberg ice but carrying that would be an unnecessary extravagance. It has been some incredible hospitality from our hosts who were surprised to see 2 men walk over hauling sleds.

Northern Hospitality

The coming days see us heading further north towards our next depot. Meanwhile Alex is heading further south to Ottawa for further medical evaluation and recuperation. We are hoping he has a speedy recovery and to see him shortly.

A Dogs Life - Colins Blog

Its been an odd month inside what so far has been a completely normal winter. The snow fell as is usual and the darkness and frozen sea gradually grew longer and stronger in just the same way they have for the last 4 winters I can remember. My cold paws and nose felt just the same whilst waiting patiently for my coat to grow nice and thick again to warm me up and of course occasional visits from “the man” to bring food and get us all excited before driving off again on his dogless sled. I am quite an anxious dog by nature and know one has ever accused me of being too intelligent therefore it brings me a great deal of contentment when things happen as they should, the seasons change and the “the man” comes and goes. I’m not one for too much excitement.

Things took a considerable turn for the worse when “the man” arrived one afternoon with the dogless sled and unceremoniously dumped me sideways onto it. Despite the lack of strong canine’s running out front those things can really move and make very loud and distressing noises and before long I was dizzy, scared and half choked on the black fog belching from within the monster. The noise gradually lessened and as we came to a stop I assumed we had reached our destination, although I was so shaken and disorientated I was struggling  to stand up, let alone make a rational judgement as to where I was. I was also very distressed that Jemima had disappeared and since we do everything together this was defiantly a cause for concern.

In front of a very large box with a door stood 3 pale faced mens with massive orange chests and arms and surprisingly skinny legs, talking in an odd sounding growl to “the man”. They came over and touched my head and paws, felt my tummy and looked in my eyes and mouth. Being a well behaved dog who knows his manners I did not growl or pull away but i can tell you now I didn’t like it. Not one little bit. Whilst assuming my standard meeting new people pose of cowering and shaking slightly I spied Jemima through the wall of orange , she had found me. My heart leapt and i gave a little whoof to let her know I had seen her. This happy feeling was quickly banished when “the man” grab my special area saying in his strange growley language “if you want him stand up just grab penis” I stood up as he grabbed me as I am sure you would and tried to look unconcerned but this is difficult when some you don’t want to touch your privates is rather forcefully holding onto your delicates.

Suddenly i was released, the dogless sled was being started and small pieces of paper were changing hands. I braced myself for another horrible sideways ride but it never came. Instead “the man” drove away, kicking up a cloud of snow and dirty smoke and leaving me lost and forgotten with 3 strange orange mens in a new and terrifying part of town. Thankfully my memory is pretty poor even by dog standards and despite feeling anxious, the sight of Jemima skulking around out of grabbing range and the large bag of dog food one of the orange mens was bringing calmed my heart rate and bought the most influential part of me back into immediate focus. My tummy. Now i wouldn’t consider myself a greedy dog although others may disagree but here in the North when tasty edible things are put in reach, you dont wait for a polar bear or Jemima to come and take it, you eat it as fast as you can. Tasty and edible covers a range of things, well to be honest absolutely anything unless I am physically unable to chew it or get it in my mouth. I have eaten some things that were a bit queer, even things that smelt alot like dogs I once knew but I am sure its a coincidence Uncle Chops disappeared on the same day we had that strange, stringy, furry meat .

I digress, see food does that to me, its very therapeutic it clears my mind of everything else regardless of the situation I am in which is not always a blessing.

The orange mens put the bag of food away after a disappointing portion size, they always are and pulled me round the back of the building. As we turned the corner an alarming flurry of grey fur, massive ears and booming bark was my shock introduction me to Tala. What a Bitch. Please take it from an amorous male dog she is a slamming hottie. Well built in all the right areas, luxurious flowing fur, gleaming teeth and a come get me stare in her bright eyes. Her lovely coat was grey with flecks of white and black and as I stared at her a strange sensation began to creep over me. Instincts from the past 1000 years began to click together in my brain and I could feel the cogs turning until suddenly the realisation hit me, holy f*#k its a wolf.

This was not a good scenario, the orange mens had obviously bought me to feed to this massive slavering wolf thing, I cowered and shook as if my life depended on it, which believe me I thought it did. In the way of all dogs, horrible nasty wolfs or nice well behaved huskys, we sniffed at each other, front and back to find out a few essential facts. I had my eyes firmly shut the entire time waiting for the blow to come that would end my beautiful and terribly short life. After several minutes had passed and I hadn’t taken my last breath, I ventured a glance through one squinting eye at the wolf. To my considerable relief and bemusement the wolf dog was sitting down next to the Orange Mens whilst they spoke to her and patted her on the head. To my amazement they began pouring a small pile of food from the same bag that they fed me from and with various grunts from the Orange Mens the wolf dog sat down, then lay down, then gave them a paw and finally waited agonisingly by the pile of food until one of the mens gave her a sign and she attacked it with gusto. This was really bad news. These Orange Mens were strange sorcerers from a distance place, no dog I had ever seen or met would do that for any mens, anywhere, ever. The Orange Mens must be very powerful dog lords indeed and I whimpered anxiously wondering when I would come under their spell and be fed to their pet wolf.

However the Orange Mens patted me on the head and wandered off leaving me sitting with the wolf under a frozen Arctic sky with the darkness broken only by the pinpricks of starlight and the glow of the young moon (I always know where the moon is and how big it is. Its a husky thing). The wolf approached. “Hello daaarling, my names Tala, with a T in case you didnt know. Your a sorry looking boy arent you, when was the last time you got dewormed?”. Although I understood what she said her accent was very strange, clipped yet snotty, crystal clear and yet nasal. ” My name is ᑕᐃᒪᐃᓪᓗᑐᕐᑐᐊᓗᒍᓐᓇ I replied and you dont sound as if you come from these parts”. “Thats funny” Tala quipped, “My boys said you were called Colin, dreadfully common sort of name but easier to comprehend than that rubbish you just came out with”. “Your right, I am not from around here, I am from Chelsea in London, I am sure you know it, everyone does so I wont go into to details but needless to say this winter ski holiday  is proving to be quite disagreeable. I flew cattle class over, I have missed an entire week of Made in Chelsea and its bloody freezing. I only recently changed into my winter collection and my coat is taking longer to come through than usual hence this awful red thing I am wearing. Still it will be worth the wait wolf grey is this seasons black according to Karl. I can only imagine there has been a terrible mix up with the Maitre’d in the hotel here as I have been outside for the last 2 nights, but I am sure my boys are sorting out my room as we speak and hopefully they have digital so I can catch up on New York fashion week”

Tala

Well I was pretty tired and most of this made very little sense to me so I simply said “well its certainly nice to meet you” and added as a after thought, “do you only eat dog food”? “Of course” replied Tala “although I am partial to a little fish if served correctly and I only drink glacial water or snow served at room temperature”. “Oh good” I replied “Well I hope you dont mind but I am going to sleep, its been an eventful day ” and with a quick look round for Jemima, hiding under the building, she has a wonderful knack for finding the warmest places, I settled down and closed my eyes. As I mentioned before its difficult for me to dwell on things for to long as I tend to forget everything rather quickly even my supposed new name and as I got comfortable I thought I could almost hear my friends from the dog team snuffling next to me. As I drifted of to sleep I thought whatever next, hopefully breakfast.

Return of Our Team Mate - Colin

It had been a bit of a rough few days for the team and both our dogs, Colin and Tala. Colin had made up for all his high pitched and constant whining by making us aware of Alex being down. I will cover this more in the next blog. Since then we had called the RCMP for some assistance and bundled both dogs into the back of a komatik, which is a big sled dragged behind a skidoo, before driving them back at high speed to our starting point in Qik.

It was that night that Colin managed to escape! We woke in the morning to no Colin. All that was left was his tracks wondering about the entire area. We could tell it was him by the weird dragging trail in the snow as a result of the cord that was still attached to his collar. Following this trail led us all round Qik from the surroundings of his sleeping area, to the dog sled area on the edge of town before heading to the dumb. It had clearly been quite an active night of adventure for him. Maybe the bug for adventure had bitten him a long the trail. We did however find Jemima, who had evidently run all night to get back. We hadn't been able to get her before leaving (although she was following us, she is pretty wild and feral) so we knew he must be around. She looked a bit stiff and was clearly very hungry. In a bid to get colin to come to us we tried to lure her in with food. We tried a pile of food close to us. She clearly decided this was too close, a second was placed with a trail of Inukshuk dog food leading to it. Myself and Jamie stood between the two piles. Despite our best efforts, she managed to eat all the food we put out without coming close enough for us to take her back home. She even wandered round and ate the initial pile we put out.

A new plan was needed.

48 hours later and still no sign. We jumped onto the skidoos and headed towards his old haunt. Fortunately and slightly unexpectedly I spotted him lying in the ground with his fluorescent cord on the snow. Jumping onto the cord, in case there was a risk of him getting away, I reeled him in. It was clearly a bit of a shock, unsurprisingly as he had been relaxing, curled up in the low lying winter sun. It didn't take long till between us we had him on the back of the skidoo. As he was sitting on my lap I was hoping the warm feeling was due to his furry coat and general body warmth rather than him peeing on me. I was fortunate in this respect, however he drooled (which froze instantly) all over my arm as he gazed at the surroundings we were zooming past.

Back in Safe Hands

Back at the RMCP base camp he was safely and much more securely tied up.

Expect the Unexpected

As you are aware, Alex unfortunately picked up an injury to his head. I thought I would provide my own insight into the events that unfolded. That night was completely unexpected. We had a great day skiing, the weather and conditions were amazing as well as spectacular. It just shows you how fast a situation can change. Lying in the tent, getting warm and with some hot chocolates being prepared. Bliss.

Myself and Jamie became aware of the growling coming from the normally high pitched and surprisingly melodic Colin.

Our Camp for the Night

With Alex outside and aware of the potential for bears we called out to him a few times to make sure he was ok. There was no response. I quickly put my boots on, picked up the shotgun and headed outside. It was eerily quiet. Of much more concern initially there was no sign of Alex. Looking over at the sleds there was a strange dim glow of a light. Heading over I saw Alex's body sprawled on the floor, I called to Jamie for assistance as he was out cold on the snow. Shouting at him and checking he was still breathing, we lifted him into the tent. After following our first aid training, a wave of relief flowed through Jamie and I, as we revived him and got him into his sleeping bag to start warming him up. Our first thought and concern being hypothermia possibly due to fainting or a trip. We began piecing together what had happened with Alex complaining of a sore head and neck there was only one call to make. Fortunately my mum, who is a doctor back in Scotland, provided us with some much needed medical advice via sat phone.

It is safe to say it was not a easy nights rest and waking to an unsurprisingly still medically unfit Alex. Another call to our official expedition doc, Dr Alex Kumar as well as Informing the local Mounties of or situation we waited to see how Alex's condition developed. Jamie and myself quickly made the call that we required assistance to be pulled back to where he could be monitored and treated by the local medical team. If need be he could also be flown to the nearest hospital. With the Skidoos on route it was just a waiting game till they arrived and a case of trying to stay warm as we packed up our equipment apart from our tent before they arrived.

Keeping Alex Warm and Topped up with Hot Chocoloate

Once they arrived, we soon had all our stuff including two of the three dogs on the komatiks (large sleds). Gemima despite being fed and following us for the entire trip she would not unfortunately come near enough to get her in as well. She would we hoped follow us back safely.

It was a beautiful evening as we zipped along under northern lights, despite my frozen goggles I managed to catch a glimpse when we slowed. What followed was the coldest journey that Jamie and myself have experienced. Alex rightly so had our emergency down trousers keeping him toasty warm, letting him get cold in his current state was not an option. The decision to hold onto the skidoo or alternatively warming our freezing knees, toes or any other parts of our body that felt cold by rubbing them with our hands, banging our feet or anything we could think of was a tough choice. I found squeezing my legs round the chassis seemed to do the trick! Respite came as the sled carrying the dogs broke off, giving us the opportunity to run about like headless chickens in a bid to get warmth flowing through us.

The final section of the journey felt like an age before the lights of Qik appeared on the horizon and we rolled into town. Rolling off the Skidoos in a semi frozen state. This was followed by me and Jamie piling into Chris and Halie's house where we peeled off our frozen and icicle covered clothing before running, jumping, swinging our arms and rubbing our legs and toes till we could feel them getting hot again.

With Alex at the med centre and us warm, we could finally relax and start reflecting on the fact that we were back in Qik.

It was certainly a mixture of emotions, pleased we had made the right decision and got back safely (other than the obvious) but clearly disappointing and completely unexpected compared to just over 24 hours previously. The whole experience had certainly not sunk in completely.

I thought it would be appropriate to include an extract from Alex's latest blog.

"You may be wondering why I am still in Qikiqtarjuaq and not long-since flown south or back on the route north. We’ve had cumulatively hours of consultation with both the few medical staff here, with two of our expedition doctors, Benno’s mother and in particular my friend Dr Alex Kumar, and thereafter with the medical team from my insurers. It took around twenty-four hours from the moment I, inexplicably, managed to trip on a line in the dark outside our tent and knock myself unconscious, through making the decision to withdraw, to getting medical attention. A judgment was made at that point that an emergency bleed on my brain was unlikely and so an immediate medevac by air was not necessary. You then enter a window of days or even weeks when the symptoms are severe enough to require medication and make a flight on a pressurised aircraft dangerous, but not bad enough to need immediate removal to a large hospital. I am currently in that window. It seems counter-intuitive at first, given the assumption that sooner is always better, but all doctors concur that a scan, most likely an MRI, at this stage is needed to assess the extent and type of brain injury, but that I need to have much-reduced symptoms first. The hope is for an uncomplicated brain bruise that simply needs time and rest to fix. In the meantime, I’m on the biff-train for the first time in around five years. Some of you might recognise that term and empathise with the sheer irritation that comes with it. Benno and Jamie, having done a sterling job on the ice bringing me round and back to Qik, are hitting the balance of making sure that tasks are being done with the increased participation I can manage each day."

You can read the rest on the link below

www.northwestpassage2015.com

Things That Go Bump in the Night- Final

It has been an interesting 72 hours. A mix of incredible sunsets over soaring frozen fjords, high morale over making good progress and a bone chilling skidoo ride back to Qikiqtarjuaq after a tense evening following Alex falling and hitting his head.

Following a good day's skiing and having left a cold hunter's hut at Kivitoo in a gradually warming and brightening morning, we set off perfectly by the setting yellow moon falling behind the jagged peaks to the North. We had made 16km and traversed over land for the first time in order to reach the frozen ocean on the other side of a small spit of land. As we approached our final campsite for the day, the daylight was fading and the high fjords on either side of the bay were glowing in a wonderful deep arctic blue and orange. Despite the cold and the increasing wind, everyone was in high spirits.

Tala Escaping the Cold

Once the Tentipi was pitched, the stoves fired up and the dogs were secured and fed, Benno, Alex and I were inside defrosting a piece of rope to secure Tala for the night whilst preparing for the evening's cooking. Alex went outside to stake out Tala whilst Benno and I continued to prep for dinner and the obligatory, long-anticipated hot chocolate. A strange growling from Colin several minutes later alerted us both that something was not as it should be. Colin is not a quiet dog, he makes noise on a near constant basis with a quite incredible range and variety of pitches but this noise was one we had not heard before and had both of us reaching for the shotguns. Having shouted to Alex several times asking if he needed any help or if he could see a bear, our first thought, we gradually became more concerned as we heard no reply or noise at all apart from Colin's increasingly agitated growls. Benno booted up and went outside - immediately shouting urgently that he needed help. Alex had tripped, fallen and had been knocked unconscious on the corner of one of the kevlar sleds and had been lying on the floor at -32deg for at least two minutes. After getting him into to the tent and managing to wake him we treated him as a hypothermia victim, as that was our initial diagnosis but it soon became clear that Alex had sustained a substantial head injury. Having spoken to our expedition medics, our thanks go to Benno's mother and Dr Alex Kumar for their excellent advice and assistance, and having checked Alex throughout the night, we made the decision to ask for assistance as his feelings of nausea and dry retching had not abated. As with any head injury, they are not a condition you want to underestimate, especially in a small tent on the frozen Arctic sea 75kms from the nearest settlement, so heading back to get Alex properly checked out was a no-brainer (sorry).

Skiing Earlier in the Day

As in most situations in Canada, when you need assistance, who you gonna call??? The RCMP. Having already discussed the situation with Chris back in Qiki earlier in the day to warn him that we may need assistance if Alex's condition didn't improve, it was time to make a call. Within an hour of making the decision that we needed to head back to Qik, Chris had donned his Red Serge and fired up his snowmobile - with the help of two locals the team were on their way to pick us up. As we watched the lights of the skidoo's cut through the frigid night air we all felt relief as we began to dismantle the Tentipi and ensure the hot chocolate we had made for Chris and the team was ready for them. Making decisions such as this and the impacts it has upon a trip you all have so much invested in are incredibly emotive and difficult to call especially when there is no obvious bone protruding from the skin or blood pouring from a wound. However as we watched the skidoos close on our location I felt and as we all did, that this was the correct decision and in the words of a eloquent medical expert I know, you don't f#*k about with head injuries.

Our Camp for the night

It goes without saying that it's cold up here and we have had some pretty "parky" days especially with the wind blowing strongly, but nothing has come close to how cold I felt on that skidoo heading back south to Qik. Having dressed Alex in our one pair of down trousers, Benno and I quickly found out that the trousers we have been using to haul in did not provide the kind of protection we needed as the skidoos fluctuated between speeds of 20-60kph. I challenge anyone to try curling and uncurling their toes for over two hours as the sensations in the lower part of your body deaden, it' a unique and not to be repeated experience.

As we pushed through the night, passing towering dark-faced features and uniquely-shaped icebergs that we had previously spent many hours staring at whilst making our way painfully towards, I was both impressed with the distance we had covered and increasing worried at the loss of feeling in my legs. As we pulled up outside the RCMP detachment in Qikiqtarjuaq, chilled to the bone is a literal description of how Benno and I felt. The only solution was to run. We burst off the skidoos and began running aimlessly and without direction even before turning our thoughts to the kind Inuit drivers and Chris who had been so good to help us, for our kit on the back of the komatik sleds or even for Colin and Tala strapped to a sled. The bone aching cold that had penetrated us to the core and reached into our joints was all consuming and we both ran and ran and ran without a thought for anything else until our nerve endings had stopped screaming and subsequently burnt our tongues on the cup of tea we were kindly bought by Halie.

Arriving back in Qik and once again being so warmly greeted by Halie, Chris, Glenn and Cayle, Alex headed to the health center and we all started to try and process what had happened. After a week out on our journey, we had all fallen into the pattern of ski,sleep, eat, repeat - all of our energies and focus were on pushing forward and keeping ourselves and our equipment in a suitable state to allow us to continue trying to meet our objectives. To suddenly be back in the warm and familiar surroundings of the RCMP detachment takes some mental adjustment, especially considering the hard fought-for kilometers we had battled to make to take us north and into the frozen beyond.

Alex is now in the process of heading to Iqaluit, the regional capital, to get a CT scan to make sure that everything is as it should be and he has no after effects from his bump. The concern is now to get a full assessment on the severity of the impact on his head and the potential for a slow pressure build. Once we get these results we can make some decisions regarding the expedition. Currently we are all of the opinion that barring any major medical after effects for Alex, we will head back out to the location that we last camped, continuing from where we left off. We have all of our depots laid and no significant time pressures and to rush back into a cold and unforgiving landscape without being completely ready once more. Thoughts of getting to the far west of our route have understandably evaporated and once Alex is back to his best we can make some decisions about what we want to achieve, especially having been given a glimpse into a few of Baffin Islands secret corners, we are all ready for more.

In other news Colin managed to make a bid for freedom and has disappeared. Qik being a small town and with the wind and temperature as it is, we are confident he will come back for his dinner once he is bored of being foot-loose and fancy. Failing that we will track him down and bring him back twisting, turning, howling and growling.

Life in the North continues to prove that adaptability is the most valuable skill to posess past the Arctic Circle. Despite the repeated ice blocks that keep falling in front of us, we have continued to deal with the ever-shifting nature of this expedition in the same way we would an area of difficult sea ice. Get through it as best you can and if it isn't going your way then don't be afraid to look for an alternative route to meet your aims.

Jamie, Benno and Alex

Blizzards and a long day

The last 48 hours have been an eye opener to the harshness of the Baffin Island weather.

After almost 2 weeks of cold temperatures, blue skies and hardly a breath of wind, we awoke to messages of increasing wind and snow forecasted. We donned our face masks, goggles and covering every bit of skin, headed out early onto the ice with the hint of northern lights above. The aim for the day was to follow a hunting route across the ice to our next stop, an old, small hunters' & trappers' hut.

It started relatively wild before calming through the early afternoon. It revealed some spectacular scenery below the low cloud, yet in the distance we could see the cloud rolling across the mountains and in our direction.

The wind began to pick up considerably and the visibility reduced. All we could make out was the silhouette of the mountains initially but that soon faded to only our immediate surroundings. With heads down and marching on our progress slowed as conditions worsened. Then out of the whirling snow and fog came the headlights of two skidoos, heading home away from the storm. A quick hello was exchanged before heading our separate ways and onto our refuge. We all pilled in. The house was beginning to rattle in the wind. We spent the evening warming up, wrapped in down jackets and hats as despite being indoors the temperatures were around -30C. Some tea that spilt froze instantly on the floor.

We awoke in the morning to the snow piled against the door and continuing high winds that have been hitting the whole region. It was to be a rest day until visibility and the wind more importantly reduced. We have since been huddled round a small corner of the hut warming ourselves, drying our kit and listening to the odd howl from Colin and his partner in crime (who self selected to come on the trip) , Jemima, his sister or girlfriend - we aren't quite sure. The evening is being spent preparing for our onward journey further up the coast and more incredible sights and experiences to be had.

Zooming along well

This is the first blog post we've tried through our super slow satellite link. Hope it comes through!

Our first two days of hauling have been successful but slow going. A total of about forty kilometres around some headlands as should hopefully have appeared on the tracker. The snow is really varied. Slow fast slow fast. The dogs are getting the idea and evening tent routine isn't too bad at all. The evenings are dark here so slick skills are needed.

We passed a set of polar bear tracks which were a couple of days old. Different directions so hopefully no drama!

More soon all!

Benno, Jamie & Alex

Improvise, Adapt and Overcome

As we approach the 2 week mark in Canada, still enjoying the extraordinary hospitality of our friends in Qikiqtarjuaq rather than the confines of a frozen tentipi, our combined trip milometer stands at a rather poor 18.6 miles pulling sleds, 66 miles on skidoos and innumerable air miles. After a whirlwind morning of saying goodbye to our fantastic RCMP hosts; Chris,Halie and Glenn and preparing and readying ourselves and our equipment for the next 575 miles to Pond Inlet, including gratefully packing away our smelly pairs of jeans and tired t-shirts that had been worn continuously for the duration of our travels,we hit the trail. With weather conditions perfect and just a gentle breeze skipping down the western fjords to push the temperature below -45degs our spirits were high and we gazed over the sea ice taking in the views and watching for any curious bears. As the weight of the sleds began to bite into lower backs and hamstrings the deep snow meant that even with sleds now weighting 150kgs, progress on the flat sea ice was slow and heavy going.

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Once we reached the distant ice bergs locked into the bay that shone like carved ice gates marking the beginning of the end of civilisation, conditions took a significant turn for the worse. The sea ice that had formed in the autumn had been crushed and folded into deep trenches and broken ridge lines by the prevailing NE winds and although far from unusual or unexpected, combined with the abnormally deep snow that gathered in the wells and hollows of the deformed ice pack made pulling the sleds a significant undertaking. Each ice formed sastrugi ridge was between 1-3 feet high and filled with snow meant that the sleds could not be moved over a ridge by a single person as the friction was so great that the sleds simply could not be dragged.

Having crawled 120 metres in 30mins, and due to the rough ice one of Benno's ski skins became unstuck and could not be refitted in the -41deg air temperature, without setting up the tent to warm the metal. With Qikiqtarjuaq still sitting prettily on the horizon and after a brief discussion regarding the speed we were travelling, the loads in the sleds, the distance to Clyde and the endless, violently contorted ice stretching to the horizon we made the decision to turn back. It is difficult to explain the disappointment of returning after only 5 hours on the ice, secure in the knowledge that the plan we had concocted had been rapidly unraveled and we were now facing a serious re-evaluation. Thankfully the sight of the RCMP's finest, mounted on their 4 stroke steeds coming to our aid once more and yet again welcoming us into their homes was enough to help us regain our motivation and spirits after what had been a fairly disappointing day.

Waking the next morning, our first collective thought was "what now". Again with their help, guidance and a garage full of snow loving toys, we saddled up with the RCMP and went on patrol to check out the conditions. The ice was as bad as we had thought and if anything gets steadily worse to the North, meaning that any journey would require lighter sleds to enable us to move at a sufficient speed. Having ensured we got enough 20,000 year old ice from the electric blue ice bergs to enjoy with a glass of 12 year old single malt that evening we headed back to the detachment to consolidate our plans and devise a new approach to get us back on the path to the wildness.

The obvious option we have been considering is to use the local hunters to help us lay depots along our intended route to Pond Inlet meaning our sled weights will be considerably lighter but we will still have the necessary food and fuel cached to allow us to safely attempt this significant journey along the fjord ridden East Baffin coastline. We need to be able to move at a minimum speed of 1mph in order to cover the miles without running out of food and with the snow conditions as they are and unlikely to change in the immediate or medium term laid depots are the only solutions within our budget that allows us to cover the miles and keep our hopes of exploring this coastline alive.

Meeting with the local hunters and the willingness with which they share their knowledge and experience has been a wonderful learning curve whilst allowing us to find solutions to problems such as finding routes and localised ice conditions with their insights we otherwise would not have the benefit of. Jaibute, Johny, Jai, Stevey and Phillip have all helped our printed maps evolve into a record of over 300 collective years of experience now marked with huts built by their grandfathers, areas of broken ice, regions known to be favored by bears and much much more. Although there is some confusion as to what terrain that can be covered by skiers and what is possible on a skidoo, a slight incline on a skidoo is an impassable mountain with a heavy sled and comments of "its only a climb of few hundred feet" are regular occurrences their offers of help means our spirits are high and our options are increasing with every person with whom we share a cup of tea.

Our thanks also have to go to Yves who has so far made us a tent pole base, fixed our skins onto our skis with rivets and is hopefully going to fix my boot tomorrow (although I haven't asked him yet!). His and Eric's (Captain of the famous ice locked Vagabond) mixtures of frank advice and enthusiasm for the wilderness and exploring it has helped keep our heads up and ensured we don't loose sight that having the opportunity to explore this coastline in any capacity is a gift which we must continue to appreciate.

Briefly in Colin's corner, he has settled in well and is now actually coming to us for treats and affection although his excessive whining and howling as his girlfriend and old team mates tease him during the night has lead to him being kept in the RCMP garage. This luxury has now been removed from Colin after he chewed half the banister off the wall in the during the night and is now enjoying the view from a nearby lampost as Tala enjoys the warmth on her own in the peace and quiet.

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Although questions regarding the feasibility of covering the entire NW Passage, supported or not are now at the forefront of our minds, we are are all buoyed by the Northern Lights blazing above Qikiqtarjuaq by night and the friendship and hospitality we have been so fortunate to enjoy, safe in the knowledge that it is a privilege to be here and any length of journey along this frozen ocean will be an adventure none of us will ever forget.

Jamie, Benno & Alex

Tracking

Awesome news thanks to a good friend we have managed to sort out some tracking on a website linked to this blog. Check out www.bennorawlinson.co.uk

For Twitter updates please add @alexhibbert @bennorawlinson

The Final Countdown

Now for a couple of my previous challenges I have wanted to use this sound track but I have been saving it. I think it is an awesome tune to start this expedition that myself, Jamie Anderson and Team leader Alex Hibbert are soon to start.

In the next couple of days once everything is ready, people are fully recovered from illness and we will be heading out onto the ice along this epic route, with staggering scenery and a fantastic team.

Like all good plans there has been a slight change of plan. Due to the conditions, a non-supported route of this length isn't feasible for this expedition. The more than average snow that has fallen this year slowed us considerably during our test run. So instead we are going to be resupplied. There are lots of cliches that we can use like we have adapted and overcome or something a long those lines. The good news though is that it was resolved with a lot of discussions around routes, logistics and ice forecasts. We are all extremely excited about the start of it and will keep you up dated with our progress.

Nearly at the start line

Thanks to everyone for your messages over the last few days. Our launch date at the start of the week has been knocked back a little for a couple of reasons - firstly due to what we assumed was a minor airport-caused sniffle, but developing into full-blown respiratory infections for first Alex and Jamie soon after. Benno has miraculously side-stepped the biological onslaught. Secondly, our freight was nigh on destroyed by the carrier, so a half-day repack became three days of painstaking re-organisation and finding lost items. The weather has been stable at around -30 to -35 degrees and with a little wind, settling at around -40. It looks to be staying that way so it's really only our frustration that has suffered from the delay. It's been vital for Jamie and me to recover fully, otherwise we'd be sure to take another health dive after the toil begins. We think we're more or less there now and so, packed, we're looking to move north soon. A final factor is that the snowfall here so far this winter has been huge. Even skidoo-powered hunters are returning with news of tough surfaces. This means that we have taken the decision to ship some of our supplies up the coast to pick up later in the journey. In the interests of full disclosure, this means that although we will travel man-powered (what some still refer to as unassisted or unsupported), our status with now be 'with resupplies'.

The hiccup in preparations have allowed us to integrate into the community here in Qikiqtarjuaq and our heartfelt thanks go to Louis, the guesthouse host and enormously so to Chris, Glen and Halie from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police who have taken us into their home and offered every help possible.

So, with a brief show of the northern lights, hour on hour of repacking and wistful looks towards the headland we want to aim for first, we'll get going as soon as possible. We need to ensure we are all able to sleep fully the night without wheezing and major signs of illness and without any elevated temperature first though. Being impatient will only end in tears after all and we have time. The ice ahead appears to be 'okay'. A couple of broken sections which we'll avoid due to the bears that will congregate and the tough navigation they'll cause. Stay tuned to Twitter, the tracker and the blog all! Cheers.

Science in Endurance

Having been in discussion with the human performance lab at gsk we managed to find a slot prior to our departure for some testing at their facilities in London. I had been on a tour of the place but it is a completely different experience being involved in the research they are carrying out. The aim of the day was to do some body composition work to understand how we adapt as a result of extreme endurance challenges like our north west passage expedition.

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The facilities themselves are incredible, used by a range of athletes from the brownlie brothers to jenson button. They include all the training and testing equipment they might use so they can do the analysis of results in house whilst the physical or mental testing is taking place. And for the day team North was in the building. We started the session with a dexa scan.

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This machine went along the length of our body taking an image of the bone, fat, muscle and other tissues to understand our composition. Next up was the body pod which is a similar test but uses air displacement rather than an imagery technique to achieve this. One of the advantages for us was that the software calculates your calories required to maintain your body weight based on the analysis.

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The final stage was in the cold chamber for our own testing and understanding of our bodies reaction in cold climates. Now although we only got down to the equivalent of a warm day for our route at -16C it did highlight how quickly we would cool down as well as leaning more about our layering system with similar equipment to what we would be using. Overall it did show our nutrition had enabled us to reach our target weight and composition of putting on around 7kg in fat and muscle.

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Thanks to all those at the lab as well as for the nutritional advice from PND consulting and supplies of maxi nutrition.

Food for Thought

A lot of people ask how the trip works, what we will be taking with us and especially what food we will be eating.The expedition aims to be unsupported and unassisted. The unassisted part means we have to do it under our own power; no kites, dogs or any other method of assistance is allowed. Our dogs are being used solely for warning against possible risks from polar bears. The unsupported means that we carry everything with us from start to finish that we might need.

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To achieve this we are taking a huge amount of equipment, fuel and food. Each person will be pulling around the 250kg mark. This is the equivalent of 3 average sized adult blokes on a sled being dragged along. Or to put this into numbers 260 freeze dried meals 650 maxi nutrition protein bars, black friar flapjack and cake 70 large packs of chocolate buttons 60 packs of Wild West jerky Then a couple of treats like mixed nuts, wine gums or saucisson. Drinks include hot chocolate, tea and maxi nutrition shakes. These do vary between each team member but it gives you an idea of the quantity and volume of the food alone. This all results in us having 2 rather plump and considerably heavy pulks (sleds) to pull each.

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This is heavy on a flat icy surface but when it come to having any fresh powder or the gentlest of slopes then it's more like a rugby scrummage session. More of either can result in us having to shuttle our pulks along 1 at a time. Let the pulling commence!

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Preparation for going North

Preparation, preparation preparation Even more so compared to my previous races and expeditions this adventure has required far more planning and preparation. It's remoteness, environmental conditions where temperatures drop to -40C as well as the 1800 mile distance to be skied make our decisions and actions critical long before we reach the start line. This has meant there has been a huge amount to learn and understand from the route, kit, nutrition and climate factors. As well as how all these will change as there is a huge shift in temperatures through the season of winter into spring. On top of this we have the physical and mental aspects.

To conquer this we have spent many a sunny and rainy evening sitting round a table covered in an array of maps, kit, food, electronics and other assorted goodies going through it all. This has resulted in a few odd looks as we tried out some face masks whilst in a warm london pub. Many aspects to the trip are very similar to any other race, trip or expedition, the biggest difference is that a bit like in my Atlantic row there are no shops and the volume of kit is far higher. We will each be man hauling around 250kg worth of equipment at the start with everything we need for the entirety of the trip. For the 3 of us that is almost as much as the weight of our entire boat.

Getting ready to pull this has meant for all of us a large part of our time being spent doing exercise and more recently eating to gain the necessary weight to be in the best possible shape to pull this. I still enjoy being able to do a mixture of sports so my training has mixed cycling, running and the gym with climbing and whilst it was warmer stand up paddle boarding. All of this will come together for the expedition as we begin our traverse across the frozen arctic sea.