Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today's last installment in the series: solar chargers.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA guide.

Solar chargers

There are a lot of solar chargers on the market but few are suitable for polar expeditions.

Sunlight needs to pass through more air mass in the polar regions and is therefore less efficient. With direct sunlight, solar chargers work adequately for about two months on either side of the summer solstice. The further you are from the solstice, and the equator, the greater the chance of underperformance. That’s why we use solar chargers on South Pole expeditions, which take place in summer. They don't work well on North Pole expeditions, which are typically late winter-early spring.

Assuming you need to consistently charge or top-up a 20,000mAh power bank, you’ll need a minimum 21W solar charger to cater to the vagaries of your polar location. I have never needed anything more than the Anker Power Port 21W in Antarctica or across Greenland (May-June).

Often, the panels will even work inside the tent, which is super convenient. If you’re hungry for more, the Big Blue 3 28W is a good choice. They have two or three USB ports, will deliver a regulated charge to multiple devices under optimum conditions, and have charge interruption recovery. Be sure to use dummy USB plugs to keep snow out of any unused ports. My old iPhone 11 charged directly from my panel but I haven’t tried my 14 Pro yet. When in doubt, I use the power bank.

One of my pet peeves is over-engineering for the sake of having something look robust when it's actually not. Solar chargers with mechanical hinges and hard exteriors fail miserably. In my experience, the best solution is a foldable charger with cells surrounded by polyester canvas. Nothing breakable. Heavy-duty eyelets are needed to keep it connected to your sled/tent.

You can damage a frigid power bank if you try to charge it, so warm its battery first. Keep your power bank topped up at every opportunity and never allow it to drop below 20%, as it may not recover.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today: electronics.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA guide.

Batteries

There are two types of batteries recommended for cold-climate use: Lithium Ion (Li-Ion) and Lithium Polymer (Li-Po). Both are high density, which means lots of power in a relatively small package.

Li-Ion batteries use a liquid electrolyte and they can be prone to leaking and combustion. On the other hand, they have little memory loss and are cheaper (and more readily available) than Li-Po.

Li-Po batteries use a gel electrolyte so are much less likely to leak and can be manufactured in a multitude of profiles. But they’re more expensive and have a shorter lifespan.

Depending on the length of your trip and how power-hungry you are, you’ll recharge your power banks using solar or wind (I’ll chat about these later) or take multiple power banks. In 2011, I guided a team from the North Pole to Canada, and we uploaded a minute of footage almost daily for 40 days through a MacBook and Iridium modem. From memory, we carried 10 HyperJuice batteries (18v ) because it was still too early in the season for effective solar charging.

Check power bank specs before buying, as some deliver less than 80% of their stated power.

Things to consider:

• 20,000mAh is a good compromise of weight and capacity
• USB-C offers faster charging
• Dual output ports charge two things at once
• Pass-through charging (charge the power bank while it charges your device)
• A backup wireless power bank, if your phone supports it
• Only use quality braided cables; multi-heads might be convenient
• Protect batteries from moisture. I once destroyed a power bank knocking over a kettle in the tent.
• Only use lithium AA and AAA

Keeping batteries warm

Although electronics tolerate cold better than heat and lithium is (currently) best for polar use, any battery will perform better once warmed up.

For years, I used a Lumix DMC-FT6 camera because somehow, the battery worked at -40°C. No idea how. The optics were average but the magic battery allowed me to take photos even on very cold days. Now I prefer better optics, and I have a system for taking photos that works for me. I keep the battery of my Sony RX-100 in a pocket on my shell pants and slide it into the camera when I want a photo. This seems to be enough to operate in all temperatures.

Taking photos with a phone is common, but the risk to fingers in severe cold is obvious. Phone batteries (Li-Ion) are improving all the time, but you will need to keep it warm if you want to use it during the day.

There’s usually no need to keep your power bank warm while you travel though it will probably accept a solar charge more efficiently. Drone batteries are typically the most demanding. Keeping them next to a Nalgene filled with boiling water til you need them is a good option. Alternatively, stash them in an inner pocket, although that can be fiddly. Chemical hand warmers don't seem to work too well for this purpose.

A power bank delivers charge in most temperatures but will just do it more consistently when warm. In Antarctica, you’ll probably have enough solar radiation in the tent to keep the battery warm enough. If you need power quicker, use the hot bottle trick or hang the battery in a bag from the ceiling, preferably not above the stove!

For optimal charge overnight, sleep with your power bank while it charges your devices unless it’s being solar charged. That’s where it’s useful to have two banks and alternate them each night. I place my phone under my pillow while it charges overnight, using vibrate as my alarm.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today: sled traces.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA guide.

Traces

Traces are lines used to pull a sled. There are lots of different rigs. Here’s what we do.

First, the sled should have two connection points (tow loops) on either side at the front. These should be 6mm-8mm Spectra, static climbing rope, or double-braided yachting rope. We secure these with simple knots on the inside, bolstered if we are traveling on glaciers.

For Arctic Ocean expeditions, we use a V-trace system. Because the hauling rope can be useful for other purposes, we attach it to the tow loops with carabiners to make it removable. Here, the trace should be 10mm-12mm waterski rope, which doesn’t absorb water and floats.

The waist belt on your pulling harness should have integrated D-rings on either side, with a hauling loop connecting one to the other. There is no need for carabiners here. We use 6mm Spectra or climbing webbing for this line.

To relieve the tugging on our harness, we make a loop from an 8mm bungee cord. It connects the V and the harness with a carabiner or loop. We call it the Download.

The Download should run free on the harness loop so that your load is always equalized between both D-rings. Whether you pull forward or from the side, the pressure is always on both hips. Use keylock carabiners to avoid annoying snags when disconnecting from your trace. After all, it's behind you and you usually do it blindly. Always place double bends in your ropes for longevity when connecting to carabiners.

On rough sea ice, where there are so many obstacles, you don't want your sled too far behind you. It should follow your tracks as closely as possible. Just check that your ski tails don't touch the sled when you're fully stretched out. We place a knotted handle in the trace, which is convenient for manhandling your sled over pressure ridges.

Trace configuration options

I use a different trace configuration when traveling on long, flat snowfields.

On the sled, I attach a short rope from one tow loop to the other. It should reach over the nose of the sled, above. No need ever to remove this during the trip, just tie it in on both sides, carabiners not needed. Then tie a single line into the middle. It shouldn’t slip from this midpoint. This line can be varying lengths, from 2m to 4m on an icecap, 4m to 10m in crevassed terrain, and up to 20m if kiting. You can place knots along this rope, which could catch the edge of a crevasse in the event of a plunge. Then connect this rope to your harness loop with a carabiner, letting it run freely on the loop.

If you do fall into a crevasse and your sled doesn't follow, your trace system should be strong enough to hold your body weight. Therefore you need your Download bungee loop in parallel rather than in series, meaning that if the bungee breaks, the rope will still hold. See below for different ways we use our Downloads.

Solid traces and breaking

If the route includes steeper downhills, so your sled often glides under gravity, consider using rigid traces. This can simply be two single bars, but I find that the sled is more responsive using a rectangular system with a central crossbar.

Every fixture should be as rigid as possible: corners, joints, and the connection to your sled. I do, however, connect to short bungee loops on each hip to deal with jerkiness.

On our Aussie Alps trips, we use 19mm polyethylene electrical conduit with a rod doweling insert. Because of their strength and bendiness, they create a built-in crash dampener on steep slopes. The entire system flexes when you come to a sudden halt. On long trips with heavier sleds, increase the diameter of the conduit. Don’t use polypropylene -- it’s too brittle.

Finally, when it’s really steep, we revert to the "lawnmower technique", flipping the bars over and walking them down in snowshoes. Make sure the bars are tethered to you in case you accidentally let go!

Sled brakes

If you have intermittent downhills that don’t warrant a rigid system, you need a braking mechanism for steep slopes to prevent the sled from nipping at your heels or bowling you over. Sure, you might be a gun skier and manage to stay in front of your rocket, but you have little control over its speed or direction. Things can go bad quickly. Skiing with your sled in front, like walking a dog, is rarely a good option.

On steep descents, we clip a short line between the sled tow loops and let this loop drag under the sled. Super-easy and reliable. For mild slopes use a thin cord; for greater stopping power, use a thicker line, and add knots for greater resistance. The key is to find a happy friction.

To make this system usable on the go, attach a lanyard to the middle of this loop and tuck it into your harness belt, releasing it to allow the brake loop to deploy under the sled.

The final method is tobogganing. We do this a lot in Svalbard, steering with skis and emergency stopping by throwing the trace loop over the nose. Freaking fun, but you need to be confident of the terrain ahead.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today: ski poles.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA guide.

Poles

I’ve used carbon fiber poles on long trips, and they are prone to breaking. Also, avoid folding poles (with the internal wire) as repairs can be really difficult. I used them once; never again.

I prefer all-aluminum two-piece telescopic poles to 155cm. Although I keep my poles relatively short (for warmer hands), I prefer long telescopic poles. On long trips, I get a sore shoulder and a fully extended pole alleviates the ache.

Telescopic poles are also excellent on mountain traverses (uphill pole shortened, downhill lengthened) and logical in guiding situations to cater to different heights. Use an external fliplock rather than internal camming for securing the length. Shock suspension is not needed. It just adds weight and complication.

I attach ribbons to both poles to indicate wind strength and direction. This is very useful for navigating in poor light.

The basket must be pivotable 360º. Otherwise, it's liable to catch on the snow when you de-pole. Once, I used a team member’s pole with a fixed basket for a day, and the difference was remarkable. I was very happy to return them. Leather cross braces inside an aluminum ring are a bombproof solution.

The tip should be made of steel or tungsten carbide for durability and must be circular concave, not uni-directional as on Nordic racing poles. This gives good traction in every direction and is particularly important on Arctic Ocean expeditions. Here, you must often use poles at every angle to balance amid pressure ridges.

Ski pole grips

I've heard mixed reviews about using pogies in Antarctica, usually with light gloves. These are big mittens that attached directly to the ski pole. You slip your lightly gloves hands into them. I’ve never used pogies, and they are not viable on the Arctic Ocean, where you often have to change from skis to boots and manhandle sleds.

Ski pole straps and techniques are also important. We teach people to use different techniques, depending on circumstances. It seems to me that the Scandinavian method (as seen below) can place a lot of pressure on the wrist where blood is near the surface.

I prefer the typical alpine ski method, below, where veins are not compressed and I can push on the pole with relaxed hands, not forcing blood out of my fingers.

Pole straps should be long and adjustable, and the pole should have a foam extension below the handle for the lower grip.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today: Parka ruffs.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA guide.

Parka ruffs

A fur ruff is an essential item that has been used for generations by indigenous northern people to protect their faces against cold and wind.

Many assume that a ruff is just a fashion accessory worn by modern adventurers to complete the explorer look. Equally, many polar travelers don’t quite get it right. Their ruffs are too short, poorly placed, or made from the wrong type of fur.

But as anyone who has skied for weeks into a headwind on the Antarctic plateau knows, even the best ruff by itself isn't enough. It needs to be matched with a suitable hat, mask, neck gaiter, and eyewear. Having an excellent ruff just gives you more options.

Sunburst ruffs

Originally made from caribou fur (later coyote, wolf, husky, wolverine, and even beaver), the ruff was part of a full-body fur ensemble. The most efficient style of ruff was the sunburst configuration, where the ruff completely encircles the face.

Early polar explorers adopted this traditional clothing system but found it too warm for active work such as sled hauling. Slowly, more modern fabrics and designs better expelled excess heat and moisture. But the ruff remained, now attached to the rim of a modern shell jacket hood. It is still a key component in facial protection for polar adventurers.

The science (and associated low-speed wind tunnel data) behind ruffs is complex but distills down to minimizing the disturbance of a boundary layer of warm air next to the face.

A ruff shouldn't obscure vision

Traditionally, polar inhabitants wore baggy anoraks with loose hoods. This allowed heat from the body to rise into the hood and move outward, creating a warm layer against the face. The ruff, in particular the starburst geometry, encircled the face but sat behind the cheekbones for better side vision for hunting. It also minimized frost buildup. The pocket of stagnant, warm air over the face mitigates frostbite in winds from any angle. Because of zippered fronts on our jackets, modern ruffs are worn more openly and we lose the sunburst effect. But ruffs can still provide an excellent defense.

Fur with stiff guard hairs (the long ones that break up the wind) and dense matting underneath is preferable. One of the biggest considerations is the irregularity of the fur. A rough halo of fur creates frictional forces that slow the air moving onto the face, minimizing heat transfer. Wolverine remains the best fur for extreme cold because ice from breath doesn't stick to it. It just brushes off as loose powder. Wolverine fur is often paired with wolf.

A typically prepared ruff is around 7-10cm (3-4 inches) wide with a length of around 65-75cm (26-30 inches) depending on preference. But if you want to create a ruff that can encircle your face, then longer is better.

Attaching a ruff

There are a number of ways to attach a ruff to your hood. The most secure method is hand sewing, but velcro, a zipper, press studs, or even magnets, make ruffs interchangeable. Except for sewing, these require reciprocal connectors on the hood.

First, be sure to orient the ruff correctly. When holding it horizontally, the middle peak of guard hairs should point upward. Otherwise, it will obscure your vision. I prefer to wrap the ruff equally around the rim of the hood, half inside and half outside. To attach, fold the ruff in half and mark the center, do likewise with your hood, and then start sewing from the middle, down one side, and then the other. I use broad stitches of strong polyester thread.

Continue all the way to the end of the hood where it meets the zipper of your collar. Let any surplus ruff hang over the edge, as these bits will close the circle when you zip up. Trim to a point as required.

Synthetic ruff?

Once attached, you will need hood adjustment options to position the height of the ruff, or it may hang over your eyes. Ruffs can be quite heavy. All my hoods are fitted with an old-fashioned tilt adjuster.

I have tried a synthetic ruff and it was next to useless. We are not quite there with faux fur, just as we are not quite there with synthetic down. Sustainability of and trade in fur are issues you should be acutely aware of. How was the animal killed and harvested? Perform your due diligence to find out exactly what type of animal your ruff comes from. Is the animal endangered or threatened? Trappers in North America can still sell wolverine pelts, although it is a threatened species.

Finally, be sure that the fur comes with a certificate of origin. Freighting or traveling internationally with any animal product is complex and can lead to confiscation at international borders. Consult the laws of the country of origin, your own country, and any country you travel to. Always travel with your paperwork. The best place to start your research is the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species, or CITES.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today: Cooking setups for polar travel.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA guide.

Stoves

In the polar regions, most of us use MSR's XGK EX stove for melting water. Though noisy and not easy to fine-tune if you want to make a delicate soufflé, it's fast and reliable. But there are ways of making it work even better.

Rather than using a heat exchanger or other add-on (most of which increase carbon monoxide production), I use a paneled windshield as a heat reflector and safety barrier. These are superior to the windscreen supplied with MSR liquid fuel stoves and only marginally heavier. The air vents at the bottom deliver the right amount of oxygen and sit nicely over the fuel line.

I mount the XGK stove with bolts and wing nuts, along with the fuel bottle to a board covered with aluminum tape to create a stable system. Though secure, the stove removes easily for deep servicing. A second board insulates the hot kettle and other pots. I also have a fire blanket and spare pump with every stove.

We transport the stove, boards, blanket, spare pump, service kit, laminated instructions, and up to three bottles in a custom-made bag.

I also use a couple of quirky hacks.

The first is a device (originally for hanging decorative plates on a wall) that I use on all our kettles to lock the lids during transportation. If your pot travels with its lid firmly in place, it will preserve the rim seal, you’ll emit less steam into the tent, and use less fuel.

https://www.facebook.com/743083980/videos/pcb.10159402671813981/686174366272243

The second is a fuel float I designed recently and will try out on my next trip. On our guided expeditions, it’s not unusual to refill 10 or more bottles at once. I find the use of a funnel annoying because I am constantly stopping, pulling it out, and checking the level. And overfilling is a pain. It needs a steady hand (you should use a spill mat) and is probably not useful in windy conditions, but it’s otherwise a one-stop shop for refilling bottles. Another solution is to fill bottles with a measuring jug.

https://www.facebook.com/743083980/videos/pcb.10159402671813981/678694540188228

I’m interested to know how much fuel people use on an expedition where the tent benefits from solar tent warming e.g. in Antarctica. I have reduced it to 175ml per person in a tent of two people, catering for 24 hours of water needs.

Did you know, 1L of white gas weighs 670g, almost 300g less than the same amount of water?

Stove pumps and stove safety

The International Polar Guides Association (IPGA) recently published a document on Stove Safety Management. These guidelines, which are only available to members, are a collaborative effort summarzing anecdotes across our membership. It includes intel from hundreds, perhaps thousands, of trips.

We discussed at length MSR’s Arctic Pump, which is compatible with their XGK-EX and WhisperLite stoves. It’s distinguishable by its blue collar. (The standard pump is red.) Introduced in 2017, the Arctic fuel pump has specific components that tolerate lower temperatures. The collar (which screws onto the bottle) is made of a more pliable material that becomes firmer as temperatures drop and is resistant to shrinkage. This creates a more consistent seal between the pump and the bottle.

All O-rings in the Arctic pump are made from a different compound and shouldn’t be interchanged with the standard pump. It also has a leather plunger cup (instead of rubber on the standard pump). This is less prone to damage in extreme cold. However, it does require more oiling and shaping to give consistent pressure during pumping.

Here is my personal experience with the two pumps. The standard pump is excellent in most conditions but can leak from the collar in severe cold, even when in operation. I have experienced this leakage at -25°C and colder. Even a pre-warmed pump will cool down during operation because it’s shielded from the warmth of the stove. You should regularly check for dripping below the collar, wipe and smell it. If it’s leaking, immediately shut the stove down and replace it with the Arctic pump. Be sure to swap back to the standard pump if the temperature abates.

For each stove on our Arctic trips, we carry a spare standard pump and an Arctic pump. Because O-rings are not interchangeable, spares should be carried for each pump type.

Because of solar tent warming, I have never needed to use an Arctic pump (and never supplied one) for expeditions during the typical Antarctic season.

If you have never dismantled a stove pump, or indeed a stove, then do it before your next trip.

Kettle

Finally, here’s a look at the type of kettle I’ve been using successfully for 10 years or so.

Made from aluminum with a steel wire handle, these 2.8L ‘billy teapots’ are readily available in general camping stores foe about $20. Don’t get the steel ones, the bottoms burn out.

These kettles are straight-sided and flat-bottomed. They don’t overhang the spreaders on an MSR XGK stove. These features all minimize carbon monoxide production. The spout, of course, is awesome for filling thermoses.

I modify them by adding a notched handle to the wire for single-hand pouring and put some thread locker on the lid handle bolt. A poor lid seal will increase escaping steam and fuel usage so I take care to protect my kettles. For my upcoming trip, I’ve made protective boxes out of the original packaging, covered in reinforced aluminum tape. The kettle weighs 256g, the box weighs 208g.

Some kettles on our arctic programs have melted hundreds of kilograms of snow and traveled over 2,000km in sleds. Out of the 12 or so that I have in service, I’ve had one leak. I repaired it with a kneadable polymer repair compound. Keep 5 grams of it in your repair kit: It’s excellent for sealing cracks in almost anything, metal included.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today: Skis and ski skins for polar travel.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA Polar Expedition Guide.

Skis

The choice of ski comes down to a few factors: mode of travel, what’s on the market, surface, and skiing ability. Here, I won’t be getting into any technicalities about construction. This is about general principles.

Snowkiters typically use an alpine ski, usually quite long to span sastrugi, but ordinary manhaulers will opt for a cross-country (nordic) ski. Such a ski has a camber, which is the arch you see under the ski when it sits unweighted on the ground. When weighted by a skier, the ski sits flat on the snow and either permits forward glide or, if the base has a pattern, wax, or skin, it provides grip.

It’s this glide and grip that polar travelers need in equal measure. Too much glide and attempting to drag a heavy sled leads to backslipping. Too little glide saps our energy trying to push a ski across the snow. Most of us use skins for grip.

Below, you can see the tip widths of some of my skis. Far left is an old Karhu XCD GT that I used to ski to the South Pole in the 1990s. Tip, waist, and tail dimensions are 62, 54, and 59mm respectively. Its length is 205cm. A long and narrow ski, and a sign of those times.

Different models

The second ski is a Karhu Catamount that I used between Russia and the North Pole in 2002. It measures 85, 70, and 80mm. It is a wider ski for convoluted terrain, with a wider surface to spread on thin ice.

In the Aussie alps, I use a Rossignol BC, third from left. It measures 110, 78, and 95mm. This wider ski with a greater discrepancy between the width of the waist and tip/tail (side cut) is preferable for backcountry skiing.

For my upcoming icecap trip, I’m on a Madshus Eon, far right, measuring 83, 62, and 70mm, 175cm in length. Madshus and Åsnes seem to have cornered this little market.

For ice cap expeditions in Greenland and Antarctica, you want a relatively long and narrow ski. We used to say that ski length should be the height of the wrist on your upstretched arm, but that is a bit long these days. On our guided Svalbard and North Pole trips, we use wider and shorter skis. These are slower but ultimately easier for novices to balance on.

The longer the ski, the better the glide, but maneuverability becomes an issue among pressure ridges or big sastrugi.

All these skis have metal edges for robustness and edging capability.

Ski skins

Ski skins attach to the undersurface of a ski with a kind of reusable glue that doesn't freeze in the cold. They are critical for traction. A base pattern or wax alone can't give enough grip to move a heavy sled across a snowy surface.

The plush of the skin (one-way fibers, like the fur on a dog) allows it to slide forward in one direction and grip in the other. For superior glide, use a plush of mohair (angora goat hair). For durability, choose nylon, or use a mix of both.

My preference on a long expedition is durability over glide because so many other factors (ski ability, sled weight, surface, slope) conspire to disrupt glide. And nylon skin technology is constantly improving glide performance while retaining grip. I can’t see goats coming to that party!

I buy 140mm wide nylon skins and cut them into 45mm strips (with a homemade skin-cutting jig) to cover the length of my skis. I’ve never needed any more than 45mm. Narrow skins also allow a bit of glide across the length of the exposed base. I've used skins as slender as 30mm.

Half-skins

Half-skins might be a good option. These only cover the grip pocket under the camber, allowing superior glide. You typically put them on as the sled lightens over the weeks and a full-length grip is no longer required.

However, half-skins do pose a few problems. On a polar expedition, we often deal with terrain where only the tip and tail touch the snow: pressure ridges, cracks in sea ice, sastrugi, or a steep slope. I have seen expert skiers reduced to tears trying to negotiate sastrugi with half-skins. Kicker connections are also a bit fiddly. Some attach through a hole in the skis, a potential weak point.

Attaching skins

There are many skin manufacturers to choose from and they all claim the latest plush, glue, and connector technology. But many users give them mediocre feedback. I’m interested to know if anyone has completed a long (1,000km plus) and cold (continuous -25°C) expedition and not had trouble with glue drying out.

This is my method for worry-free skin application on a long polar expedition.

Skins normally attach to a ski using a special pre-applied glue that allows them to be removed and re-attached. But this glue tends to dry out, and the sides and tail of the skin begin to peel off the base. You could bring extra glue, but re-gluing skins in the field is messy.

I screw my skins to the base at the tip, tail, and two midpoints. The Phillips-head screws are very short and barely penetrate the core of the ski. The pan head sits within the plush, so there is no effect on glide. Your glue will probably hold on shorter trips, but for long expeditions, I’d rather add 20 screws at 7g total than suffer an avoidable headache. And, starting with a heavy sled and usually uphill (Antarctica and Greenland), you’re going to need those full-length skins for a while.

Tips for attaching skins

Connect the tip using a solid fixture like a wire bail. Don't use stretchy rubber tips, they get knocked off. The rear is a bit trickier, as skis usually double as tent stakes. You can damage the skin/connection by planting your ski in the snow. I typically taper the skin at the back, wrap it over and screw it to the top.

Changing over to half-skins is a bit fiddly if your skins are screwed on, but you only need to do it once. Kickers definitely offer better glide. Just be sure other factors don't stymie it. They commonly connect through holes in the ski forward of the binding and have no rear connector.

In warmer environments, snow can ball up on the plush, and this is a major pain. Some bring some skin wax for this, but I have successfully used butter and olive oil to lubricate skins in Greenland and Patagonia.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today: Ski bindings for polar travel.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA Polar Expedition Guide.

Cable bindings

On my first South Pole expedition, we used One Sport boots with Rottefella Riva cable bindings (similar to the ones below).

The toe piece on all our boots came apart and the side walls of our bindings broke. The next models had a crossbar from wall to wall which solved this problem, such as G3 Targa that we used in Patagonia in 2000.

Nobody seems to use cable bindings on polar expeditions anymore, despite Baffin and Alfa making compatible boots.

Three-pin bindings

I’m sure there are some people who have not been introduced to the three-pin binding system, having jumped straight to cable, backcountry (BC), or Flexi bindings (though cables actually predate three-pin by many years).

Three-pin bindings were very common and are still used by some diehards. I used them on my Ellesmere Island expedition in 1992 and maybe even my Greenland crossing in 1995. Two clients used them when I guided the route from the Messner Start to the South Pole for ALE in 2007-08.

The holes in the underside of the toe would fill with snow which, when engaged into the pins and clamped down, would turn to ice and remain in the steel insert within the toe. Subsequent entries meant more icing and a deteriorating engagement between pins and plate. They would catch only the rubber part of the toe which would eventually rip out. After a few tears, the rubber would become too damaged and the system would ultimately fail.

Manufacturers started adding cables to the three-pin system, which was an improvement but added a layer of complexity. Baffin still has holes in the toe of their Guide Pro models.

The Salomon Nordic System (SNS)

Salomon introduced the SNS binding sometime in the 1980s. Their Profil model was the first straight bar integrated into the toe of the boot. They later introduced a heavier version for backcountry, but NNN (New Nordic Norm) became more popular and their BC model became somewhat of a backcountry standard.

It is still used widely today but the mechanism is very prone to clogging with ice and I have seen some clamp mechanisms break. There is a manual and step-in version and of course, it requires a dedicated (and very expensive) boot. Alfa A/P/S is the standard polar-climate boot for this binding.

This kind of binding with the pivot point forward of the toe and a rubber flexor to create forward momentum of the ski encourages a more classic Nordic ski style rather than a plod. However, there are so many factors that will bring a manhauling skier using this system back to a plod.

Flexi bindings

Following consistent failures with boot/binding combinations of the 1990s, I added to the mix with the first prototype of Flexi bindings.

I first used these while skiing from Russia to the North Pole with Jon Muir in 2002. I modeled it on a snowboard binding, using straps rather than toe pieces or cables to secure the boot to the binding. This completely eliminated any toe connection.

Flexis were originally designed for use with Baffin winter boots, but they work with any boot, Alfa included. Like the pioneering yet fragile Berwin binding, early models broke at the flex point. I didn’t see consistency until I started using UHMWPE plastic on the base plate. Even then, we had some failures. These have been completely eliminated since I re-engineered the entire binding in 2014.

These bindings are heavier and not very pretty but they will survive any Arctic Ocean expedition at -50°C, the ultimate test of any polar equipment. Some people will argue that they’re slow, but I can pull up stats that suggest otherwise.

New binding?

Finally, let's consider a potentially interesting new model, the Rottefella Xplore. Currently, these don't seem to be an option for polar expeditions because there are no suitable boots yet. It has 70mm of connection between the boot toe and binding, NNN BC has 42mm and three-pin has 33mm, so it seems Xplore is already designed for backcountry.

But is it polar-rated? It concerns me that the system relies on internal spring pins on either side of the boot toe, perhaps vulnerable to icing up and malfunction, particularly after a dunking through thin ice on the Arctic Ocean.

The binding itself might be less prone to the icing up common in NNN BC (which can ultimately lead to failure of the mechanism), but the binding release relies on a potentially vulnerable spring. The exchangeable flexor appears to be difficult to replace or service in the field. Xplore is super light, maybe a red flag? However, I will keep an eye on this promising system.

Heel risers

Despite their usefulness, heel risers (also called climbing wires) are not common on polar expeditions. They’re typically used for skinning or snowshoeing up slopes to reduce overextension of the Achilles’ tendons. This also relieves the calves.

Hauling a heavy sled creates the same angles, so it makes sense to relieve the stress with heel risers. In 1998, we each started with 190kg, skiing from Ross Island to the South Pole, and the risers were excellent. Judging by my photos, we used them a fair way across the Ross Ice Shelf. We also used them in Patagonia, but mainly for the slopes, as we do on our Aussie snowshoe trips.

When no longer required, the riser is simply folded away. For the sake of an extra few grams, they’re a worthy addition if you’re hauling a heavy sled.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today: The controversial vapor-barrier liner (VBL).

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA Polar Expedition Guide.

Vapor barriers

As the name suggests, a vapor-barrier liner is an inner layer of waterproof material that locks moisture next to the skin. It aims to prevent perspiration from moving into, and potentially freezing, insulating layers. You use VBLs with boots and sleeping bags.

You don't notice ice build-up for the first few days, but over the weeks, it can render sleeping bags almost useless and turn boots into frozen coffins that your poor feet need to melt into softness every morning.

Keeping moisture next to your feet with a VBL is not ideal, but it's a lesser evil. And because you don't remove boots during the day, the temperature remains relatively regulated, so long as your breaks are not too long.

Unlike footwear, we can tinker with handwear layering on the fly to vent heat and moisture. It’s a skill that every polar traveler must learn. Never use vapor barriers on your hands. The use of Latex gloves or other impervious barriers can quickly lead to frostbite. You must keep fingers dry.

It’s also important to use a VBL in your sleeping bag in extreme cold. Without it, moisture from your body will pass into the insulation of your bag, then freeze before reaching the outer shell. You simply can’t generate enough heat to push it all the way out. Ice build-up inhibits the insulating capacity of your bag, especially a down bag. It becomes extremely difficult to dry. Left untreated, you will feel the crunchiness build up in the insulation.

Don’t use a silk or fleece liner inside the VBL. It will get wet and is difficult to dry. Sure, the base layers that you sleep in will get damp, but you can dry them out next to your skin pretty quickly. A good layering rule for sleeping in these conditions: base layers, VBL, down inner bag, and synthetic outer bag.

When to use VBLs

There are no rigid parameters that dictate when to use VBLs. Instead, it is based on equipment, temperature, and amount of sunlight. For example, there's no need for a VBL with Intuition boot liners, as they are made from closed-cell foam. As a rough guideline, VBL usage correlates loosely with solar charging. If you can charge a power bank daily from a 21W solar panel, you likely won’t need VBLs. If it's not too windy, you can lay your sleeping bag in strong sunshine during morning chores, and the accumulated overnight moisture will sublimate out.

When in doubt, use VBLs on your feet.

Lying in a plastic bag is unpleasant, so you might be able to use other methods to minimize ice accretion in your sleeping bag. Any ice in the tent (frozen steam, icy clothing, etc.) can contribute to moisture in your sleeping bag if that ice is allowed to melt. Some people mitigate this by keeping the ambient temperature in the tent well below freezing, but this means no stove inside. I have never felt the need, or desire, to do this. It’s a pretty uncomfortable strategy at -30°C, so it is better to be familiar with alternatives that allow using a stove in the tent.

How successfully you vent during the day has a bearing on how comfortable your tent will be at night. There will likely be ice on your facial coverings, so be sure to scrape it off outside the tent with a grout brush before drying inside. You’ll need to bring damp liner socks and inner boots into the tent, but other clothing layers should be totally dry on entering.

Scrape ice off your shell clothing and ruff but leave them in the vestibule with your outer boots. Ice will build up on the inner tent from steam during cooking, so minimize it. Even your breath will contribute.

In the morning, meticulously brush ice off the inner tent and from your sleeping bag before lighting a stove (or place your sleeping bag in the vestibule or outside before lighting). Keep a dry microfibre cloth handy to wipe up any dampness on your bag, but be sure to dry the cloth out so that you can reuse it.

Using a stove inside a tent is common on polar expeditions but it is dangerous and must be done with care and precision.

Staying dry from the inside

The following pertains to long expeditions in no or low-sun polar environments. This means the Arctic rather than the Antarctic since Antarctic expeditions take place during the austral summer, when the sun is high. Overnight, the average person sweats and exhales approximately 200ml of moisture. This varies based on body temperature, diet, and gender.

If using a sleeping bag VBL, it should be quite long so you can breathe into it. In severe cold, you need to cinch your hood right down. Sometimes it’s too cold to have your face exposed, forcing you to breathe into your VBL the whole night. Of course, you still need oxygen, so don’t block that aperture.

I would personally never use a single-down bag without a VBL on a polar expedition that does not benefit from solar warming. Ice build-up will eventually collapse the down, if left unmanaged.

If not using a VBL, avoid bringing damp clothing or boots into your sleeping bag to dry out. That just adds to the problem.

In the morning, I use my microfibre cloth to soak up any dampness on the shell.

Note that red tents have a superior greenhouse effect, while green is better for sunny Antarctica.

Dealing with moisture in the polar regions requires active management. You can’t let anything slip. Take every opportunity to keep ice buildup under control.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear. Today: boots, socks, gloves, and mitts.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA Polar Expedition Guide.

Handwear

Start at your most extreme needs and work backward: -40˚, windy, Day 20, altitude, fingers already deteriorating.

Use a windproof shell with cinchable gauntlet together with a thick fleece (Icetrek Kelvin mitts pictured) or thick wool inner mitt. (Down is not ideal with ski poles.) Add a thin liner mitt, merino if you have sensitive skin (Devold pictured).

You need to size your mitts to accommodate this liner. You don’t want anything tight or sloppy. Add a glove to this combo and you’re asking for troubled fingers. And never, ever, use a vapor barrier liner, a sure fast-track to frostbite. You need windproof breathability, not waterproofing.

The pull loops on my inner mitts and attached neck lanyard ease the burden of managing my mittens. I can mix up these layers as conditions change. Leather gloves with removable wool inners (Hestra pictured) are great for camp chores or when conditions improve.

Everything is modular for ease of drying. Touch-screen gloves for inside the tent, or as a liner with my Hestras. Or, rarely, for skiing. Outside, I use a capacitive stylus with my phone. It’s silly to risk your fingers for a photo.

In fact, you must be able to work any device with a fully mittened hand. Use the handle of your ski pole to push GPS buttons. Practice makes perfect.

Ski pole grips

I've heard mixed reviews on using pogies with light gloves in Antarctica. I’ve never tried them myself. They are not viable on the Arctic Ocean. as I’m often changing from skis to boots and manhandling sleds.

Ski pole straps and techniques are also important. We teach people to use different approaches, depending on the circumstances. It seems to me that the Scandinavian method, below, can place a lot of pressure on the wrist where blood is near the surface.

I prefer the typical alpine ski method, below, where veins are not compressed and I can push on the pole with relaxed hands, not forcing blood out of my fingers.

Regardless, pole straps should be long and adjustable and the pole should have a foam extension below the handle for the lower grip.

Make life easy for your fingers: add extensions

Most of us are familiar with adding extensions to our clothing and tent zippers, but this strategy of making life easier for our fingers should extend to everything.

All metal should be taped or covered (thermoses, tool shafts, fuel bottles, etc.).

The tension buckles and pulls on our tents all have toggles added. It takes hours to thoroughly winterize our tents.

One of the fiddliest bits of kit is the polar bear perimeter fence we use in Svalbard. We can set it up fully mittened, a necessity given the risk to fingers when assembling and dismantling a fence in severe cold.

Boots

This one might start a debate! I’ve been using Baffin boots since my first North Pole expedition in 2002 and have skied over 7,000km with them, mostly their Impact model but others too.

They're warm and comfortable, and I've never had any foot problems or frost damage, but I do have pretty resilient feet. This is their current ski model, the Guide Pro II, for use with three-pin or cable bindings (which are becoming less common these days), or Icetrek's Flexi bindings. The boots feature a built-in gaiter, removable liner, three layers of footbed/insulation, and lots of other features.

Liners, footbeds, and socks

Although I have poor circulation in my fingers, my toes are more tolerant of the cold. However, I still need to make the right choice of liners, footbeds, and socks.

For my upcoming Antarctica trip, I’m using Intuition Pro Tour liners. They have many models to choose from, but the lace-up Pro Tour is a proven model for long polar trips. They mesh perfectly with my Baffin boots, don’t absorb foot moisture, and are easy to remove for airing. They also come in light, medium, and thick for different temperatures.

The Baffin liner is also good. It is very warm but more prone to blowing out in the heel on long trips and will need a VBL during winter or early spring journeys. You’ll want to provide your own footbed or orthotics. I use this Rottefella Touring insole.

Socks

Many to choose from and only trial and error will get it right for you. And what’s right for you may not be right for the next person.

Start by preemptively taping up any areas on your feet that consistently give you grief. Use a hypoallergenic tape (micropore) followed by sports tape, whatever stays on. For blister mitigation, you might like to try a super thin and smooth liner like the Armaskin but I don’t have much feedback on them.

The second sock is a pair of Wilderness Wear liners I used for 33 days skiing to the South Pole in 2017-18. They are still in great condition -- the best sock I ever used on an expedition.

You want anything next to your skin to have a percentage of hard-wearing nylon or lycra, as well as merino for warmth. The blue Wilderness Wear Velo sock is a great option. I use standalone waterproof winter SealSkinz socks as a VBL for North Pole and early spring trips, though not required if using non-absorbent Intuition liners.

The last sock is a thick fleecy Wilderness Wear wool sock to wear with booties in the tent. Lush!

Socks don’t need to be knee-height. That’s a lot of extra sock when layered with shell pants, underlayers, and boots. Wear your sock over your leggings to keep them up but be sure to smooth out any folds.

Although I've done many expeditions to both the North and South Poles, both as an independent traveler and a guide, every fresh trip brings up new gear ideas. There are also old, tried-and-true standards that I have used for years. As I begin the South Pole season, let's take a look at my gear, starting with how I protect my face on the Antarctic plateau.

One note: Proper gear is just one aspect of polar travel. Developing skills, planning and logistics, understanding the polar environment, and knowing how to minimize risk are all equally important. If you would like to fast-track your development as a polar traveler, consider hiring an IPGA Polar Expedition Guide.

Setup one: severe cold

Consider this for deep cold and high winds, where any exposed skin becomes frostbitten and layers can be penetrated. The full sunburst fur ruff, formed by closing the tilt-able hood and storm collar on my shell jacket, disrupts wind and creates a microclimate around my face. It adds a final protective layer above my Julbo Aerospace goggles, Celsius Hat, and Guru Face Mask.

Not one iota of skin is exposed. Any colder and it’s not wise to be outside. I’ve rarely needed this kind of protection: only on the Arctic Ocean and Antarctic plateau when conditions are truly bitter.

Setup two: manageable wind

This works when wind and cold are more manageable wind but will still frostbite exposed skin.

My Julbo goggles mesh perfectly with my Icetrek Celius Hat and Guru Face Mask to create an impervious barrier. Again, no exposed skin. People often place tape on their cheeks but no need if you have the right rig.

It’s important for the mask to be open at the bottom, allowing the exhaled breath to escape. Otherwise, it moves up into the eyewear which, if poorly designed, can freeze onto the inside of the lens. Julbo Aerospace goggles deal with this perfectly, having a hinged lens that pulls away from the frame, creating airflow.

My wolf/wolverine ruff still provides a warm pillow of air around my face, despite venting with the open storm collar of my Mont polar jacket. Still bloody cold but I can tolerate a full day of this.

Setup three: no hood

I’m still fully protected but no longer require my hood or ruff, a common strategy on the Antarctic plateau.

My Celsius Hat is made of eVent windproof fleece, and the ear flaps give my lobes full protection. My Guru face mask is made from hypoallergenic neoprene, high cut to protect the upper cheeks, full nose protection, and just the right amount of breathing holes. A neck gaiter protects the exposed area below my mask.

I’ll flip my hood up and down as conditions dictate, but all my venting adjustments are done on the fly, so long as I’ve made the right wardrobe choices when I get dressed in the morning.

Setup four: exposed skin

Exposed skin can now tolerate the conditions, but only when I’m working hard enough to generate heat.

I’ve exchanged my thick fleece hat for a thinner windproof cap with a small peak. Direct sun glare is not an issue on a South Pole expedition because I structure a travel schedule that has the sun behind me. This is easier on the eyes, eliminates the need for a big peak, and lets me use my shadow to navigate. I swap my goggles for Julbo Ultimate Cover sunglasses. The Guru mask is still doing its thing.

Setup five: getting warmer

The cap and mask are exchanged for a breathable Icetrek LoGo Beanie and Smitten merino neck gaiter, pulled over my nose if needed.

I still need to be careful with exposed skin, in particular my earlobes, but the beanie is long and can pull down to fully protect my ears if required. Don’t take the fashionable beanie that sits halfway down your ears. Leave that for the ski slopes.

I've attached a nose guard to my Julbo glasses, for both sun and wind protection.

Setup six: as warm as it gets

Rarely do we experience warm days on the Antarctic plateau. Those are much more typical of lower elevations. I struggle when it gets this warm. Gone is the shell jacket. I now travel in my superlight Smitten merino beanie, Julbo Ultimate Cover glasses, buff, and Mont Grid Pro fleece, which is a superb, all-around zippered top. Lots of sunscreen and lip balm.

Imagine that a fictional polar traveler named Aarne Järvi plans to lead a three-person Finnish team across Antarctica. His press release declares, "Finns Attempt Unsupported and Unassisted Traverse of Antarctica."  Elaborating, they state that they won’t use resupplies and will manhaul on skis, without "wind assistance". Never before, the press release concludes, has anyone skied across Antarctica from coast to coast without resupplies or the use of kites.

Despite benefiting from modern clothing and equipment, satellite communications and daily weather forecasting, as most expeditioners do, our imaginary Aarne will experience an Antarctic plateau not dissimilar to his predecessors, from Ernest Shackleton in 1908 to the recent (and real) guided South Pole expedition with schoolgirl Jade Hameister.

Nevertheless, the description of Aarne's expedition is confusing and, it turns out, inaccurate. Many similar, and real, expeditions suffer from the same problem. Why and how to fix it is the point of this article.

Precedents

A decade before Shackleton, Captain Joshua Slocum eased his gaff-rigged sloop, Spray, into the Rhode Island docks after completing the first single-handed global circumnavigation by sailboat. His book, Sailing Alone Around the World, together with a few sightings of him during his three-year journey, stand as testimony to this world first. 

His voyage brought sailing squarely into the modern world of record-setting and breaking. A classification system quickly developed to handle subtleties, such as crewed vs single-handed, monohull vs multihull, eastward vs westward, non-stop, unassisted, following great circles and touching antipodes.

When Frenchman Français Gabart claimed the speed record in 2017 for sailing Solo and Nonstop Around the World, embedded in his claim were established targets that are widely accepted by the sailing community. These are easy to verify and set a clear benchmark for similarly inclined sailors to exceed. 

A year before Captain Slocum began his circumnavigation, the Austrian mountaineer Fritz Benesch developed the first-known grading system for rock climbing. Eventually, the UIAA adopted it, and his open-ended scale is still used today. At least a dozen grading systems operate across the various fields of climbing, from the French adjectival system for mountaineering to the numerical ice and mixed climbing scale. Should you ever like to shimmy up the Supercanaleta line on FitzRoy in Patagonia, the 5.9 YDS WI4 M5-6 Steep Snow PG13 gradings, readily decipherable online and incorporating subtleties such as terrain steepness, blankness and length, gives you some indication of what to expect.

So why not polar travel?

Despite the number of journeys in Antarctica, Greenland and on the Arctic Ocean, and the high level of sponsorship and media exposure, the lack of an established classification system in polar expeditioning makes it easy to pull the merino wool over the public's (and the media’s) eyes. By comparison, not just sailing and climbing, but ocean rowing, paragliding and white-water kayaking have clear standards on how to classify their endeavours.

Some in the polar world object to adopting a classification system, because they prefer to think of polar travel as non-competitive. Almost every year, a burgeoning pool of record-seekers taunts that pleasant fiction. Most of them have no sustained interest in polar adventuring or how expeditions are understood historically. This was starkly illustrated in Colin O’Brady’s recent expedition, branded before, during and after as the first solo, unsupported and unaided crossing of Antarctica.

Unlike ocean sailing, those descriptors contain nothing of substance. Few of us even know what the terms unassisted, unaided and unsupported mean. Those who do know regularly mix them up. Even the words solo and crossing come with nuance. It’s no wonder that followers of adventure got sucked into the hype: No one, including O'Brady, had a blueprint to follow. If they did, they would have realized that Børge Ousland of Norway achieved this more than two decades earlier.

It’s time to tighten up the polar tradition of loose-fitting terminology. Consider this an attempt to fashion a simple, clear and unambiguous way to describe polar expeditions. Since most of us like acronyms, let's call this the Polar Expeditions Classification Scheme (PECS).

The Five Elements of a Polar Expedition

Element 1. Team or Solo

Let’s start with the easy one. A single person traveling alone for the entire length of a journey is solo. To retain solo status, an expeditioner may not enter any buildings, vehicles, aircraft or tents other than his or her own. In the absence of Solo in the Label, Team is assumed. So O’Brady's journey was solo and our fictional Aarne’s is not.

Element 2. Mode of Travel

The Rules of Adventure, found at adventurestats.com, were an initial attempt to define some of the qualifiers bandied around since the pioneering 1985-86 In the Footsteps of Scott expedition. But the polar community was bound to fracture over the following adventurestats line: "Support refers to external power aids used for significant speed and load advantage. Typical aids are wind power (kites)…"

Ice is a neutral medium, and just as ocean rowers and sailors share the sea without primacy, so too should manhaulers, snowkiters, snowshoers, fat bikers and dogsledders. Apart from a common travel surface, these activities are largely incomparable. By de-emphasizing superficial comparisons and allowing each one to be independently graded, we lay an even ground for classification, as long as the expedition label includes the specific method of travel. In our theoretical example, Aarne should rewrite his press release to read "Ski Traverse" rather than just "Traverse". Even better would be "Ski Crossing", as "crossing" is a more common term.

Element 3. Margins

Several large, freshwater ice shelves are permanently attached to the Antarctic coast. Without the Ross Ice Shelf, for example, Shackleton could have sailed 500km further south to the base of the Beardmore Glacier before leading his men to the high interior.

Instead, they plodded across the Spain-sized shelf, as much a part of Antarctica as the inland ice. In the end, the distance was too much for them and they had to turn back 180km short of the South Pole. Scott, Amundsen, Byrd and Fuchs all established their bases and began their inland crossings on or very near these outer perimeters. 

In 1988-89, fledgeling logistics company Adventure Network International conducted the first guided South Pole ski expedition. They began from a contrived inner coastline start on the southern perimeter of the Ronne Ice Shelf, the now-familiar Hercules Inlet.

A slew of similar journeys quickly followed. South Pole expeditions and Antarctic crossings suddenly became shorter by a third. They are, in effect, imperfect projects because their start/endpoints use an inner coastline that is only detectable by remote sensing tools, such as Differential Interferometric Synthetic Aperture Radar (DinSAR).

For most expeditions, these hidden coastlines are now accepted start or endpoints. Of my own five South Pole expeditions, three have started from one of them. But the lack of formal classification, and the bickering over definitions or the practice of ignoring them totally and using your own convenient interpretation of "unsupported", for example, means that the public has no clue that some journeys, like Ousland’s seminal 1996-97 solo kite-ski crossing of Antarctica, are far longer and harder than others. All are simply advertised as "unsupported crossings".

Through PECS, I am trying to draft clear, unambiguous definitions that, if widely adopted like those of the Ocean Rowing Society, will clear up the embarrassing confusion that detracts from otherwise worthwhile projects. The journeys that Lou Rudd and Colin O'Brady did last year were very good, but they didn't do what they advertised. This wasn't a reprisal of the Scott and Amundsen race; nor was it a quest to bag some Last Great Polar Journey. Rather, it was a truncated route that was a first in only a very limited way.

In our definitions, the term "Coastal" denotes land fronted by sea or annual sea ice, and "Inner Coastal" as an ice shelf coastline that is not within sight of the sea or annual sea ice. Furthermore, journeys starting on neither coastline are "Inland", or "Offshore" for North Pole journeys, and are classed as "Partial".

Individual journeys may occasionally fall outside these definitions. For example, Mike Horn and Børge Ousland are currently crossing the Arctic Ocean. However, they started not from land but from Horn’s yacht, Pangaea, in mid-ocean, around 85° north. Should they reach the Svalbard coast or a waiting offshore yacht, most would support theirs as a full crossing.

Greenland

Few Greenland crossings go from sea level to sea level. Most skiers travel by vehicle to the edge of the Inland Ice. Rather than re-labeling hundreds of past Greenland and Antarctic expeditions as incomplete or partial, we can instead apply the label "Crossing", while reserving "Full Crossing" for those that began and ended at the coasts.

One must earn the right to be classified as Full, and Aarne’s theoretical trip doesn’t qualify, because it turns out that he’s starting from Hercules Inlet and finishing at the base of the Axel Heiberg Glacier, an inner coastline. O’Brady, too, used inner coastlines. There’s no need to amend their Crossing designation. At the same time, they don't merit the term Full.

Maps used to depict these crossings should also be more geographically accurate. To downplay the importance of ice shelves, O'Brady (or the NYT) coloured them light blue, just a shade short of the surrounding ocean, to imply that they are temporary or irrelevant features. In fact, they are essentially permanent and are, of course, white, not blue.

Element 4. Aid

Now that we have eliminated wind, dogs, fat bikes and any future type of non-motorized travel as aid, let’s look at what this term really means. 

Resupplies - accepting food or equipment that is not part of the original sled load and thus reducing weights. Any team that evacuates one or more members also falls under this ruling.

Roads - compressed, tracked or flagged routes that significantly decrease and often  eliminate the encumbrances of sastrugi, crevasses and/or navigation. 

Any expedition that uses one of these is Supported. Conversely, any expedition not benefiting from either is Unsupported. All other loose terms -- assisted, aided, etc. -- are absorbed under Supported and can be permanently dropped.

A journey must earn the right to use Unsupported. In its absence, we assume Supported. In our hypothetical example, Mr. Järvi and his colleagues do not use either form of support, so they qualify as an Unsupported Ski Traverse of Antarctica, or more consistently, UNsupported Ski Crossing of Antarctica.

O’Brady, however, used the graded South Pole Traverse (SPoT) road running from the Pole to his end point on the inner coastline of the Ross Ice Shelf, about a third of his total distance. Under these guidelines, he would not be able to describe his expedition as Full or Unsupported, bur rather a Solo Ski Crossing of Antarctica. Ousland, incidentally, used no such road.

Element 5. Path

The route a journey takes is its Path. In general, there are three types: Circumnavigation, Crossing and Expedition. Any journey in Greenland, Antarctica or on the Arctic Ocean from one side to another is a Crossing; a circular path around a prominent point, such as a Pole, is a Circumnavigation; a journey that finishes at the North or South Pole is an Expedition. Expedition variations include Return, Alternate Return and Reverse. 

The MAP Code

For simplicity, we can abbreviate our Margin, Aid and Path elements with the letters A through D. The more A’s in the Map Code, the more committing and arguably the more difficult the journey. Thus:

MARGINS

A = Full

B = Not Full

C = Inland or Offshore (Arctic Ocean)

AID

A = Unsupported

B = Supported

PATH

A = Crossing, Alternate Return Expedition or Circumnavigation

B = Return Expedition

C = One-way Expedition

D = Reverse Expedition

DISCONTINUOUS

Denoted by a slash symbol (/) after the MAP Code letters, a journey that takes multiple seasons or expeditions, such as Lonnie Dupre's and John Hoelscher's dogsled-and-paddle circumnavigation of Greenland, is discontinuous.

VARIANT

A Variant is denoted either by a Distinction (+), indicating an unsupported journey achieving a historical record that cannot be broken; or a Misconduct (-), an earmark for any unauthorized or environmentally reckless journey.

Like the label, the shorthand expression of a MAP Code reveals the particulars of a journey. For example, the fictional Finnish team is BAA, O’Brady BBA and Ousland AAA+. Followers of Antarctic expeditions will know that kite skiers have succeeded at an Unsupported Full Crossing but manhaulers have not -- at least, not yet. AAA+ awaits the skiers, either team or solo, who do.

Description

The Label can’t fully describe a polar journey, so a narrative should follow. This includes such specifics as route, firsts, estimated distance and duration, gender, how many members, nationalities and whether it will be guided. Which begs the question: Is a guided journey not aided? Well, the guide is not guided so, no, but it must form part of the narrative, preferably referenced with the guide's name, eg. Dwayne Pipe (guide).

Classifying Journeys Old and New

Almost every high-latitude journey can be graded in a minimalist and elegant fashion, using the process outlined above. However, this represents just the tip of the PECS iceberg. For the full iceberg, and to generate your own Label and Map Code, visit https://icetrek.com/pecs

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Damien Gildea and Dixie Dansercoer for their valuable direction and to www.antarctic-logistics.com for info on remote sensing tools.