A Very McMurdo Christmas

 Y'all, I love Christmas. It's my favorite time of the year, I'm enthusiastic about all of it—the lights, the cookies, the gifts, the music, and of course, the Reason for the Season, the birth of Jesus. But all that to say that I'm always excited to celebrate Christmas, and while I always like to spend the holiday with my family, I can make the best of a real McMurdo Christmas.

While we're not as bad as supermarkets putting out Christmas decorations before Halloween, the Christmas spirit had taken hold immediately after Thanksgiving. Dorm doors were getting decorated, Christmas movies were on the station TV channels, and Christmas music was playing over the various kitchen speakers. I myself was definitely annoying some coworkers with my eclectic Christmas playlist. (I'm kind enough to wait until the day after Thanksgiving, but then they can't stop me.)

For a place that will take any opportunity to party, you know that holiday festivities were abounding. Every shift had some kind of movie night. So even for us midrats, the option to watch The Polar Express and Elf double feature in the coffee house was there. There were Christmas dance parties in the gym, Christmas themed workouts and yoga—because the holiday can't stop the gains—and one of my buddies made his own eggnog and mulled wine for a small get-together, in a process that it's probably best I not ask too many questions about.

The real active day for the station was actually Christmas Eve. This was when all the scheduled events were taking place. For me, Christmas Eve started at midnight, considering my weird sleep schedule, but I did have the 24th and 25th off, so that was nice. The first Christmas-y thing I did was attend the Christmas Eve service in the chapel. In keeping with the tradition of what my family calls "Chr-Easters," the chapel was more full than most Sundays. We sang a few Christmas carols, read the Christmas story from Luke, received a sermon about Simeon in the temple who gave a blessing for the newly born Jesus, and finally shared in Communion—using the Erebus Chalice no less!

(Holidays are when we bring out the good China.)

The real star of a McMurdo Christmas Eve, however, is the banquet. There's contention from those who've been here for a few seasons about which is better, the Thanksgiving meal or Christmas. But whatever side you might fall on, the food we got was phenomenal. Everyone in the main kitchen was putting in extra effort to get it all just right. Even the simple dishes like lemon risotto and herb green beans were very well done. The big draw were the entrees, of course. While the beef tenderloin was excellent, the most fun and unique addition were the crab legs and lobster tails. Now, I'm not typically a fan of lobster—it's more like a convenient way to eat more butter—but even I enjoyed the seafood. A bit of Surf and Turf is a great way to make a meal memorable.

(The lobster is sadly not freshly caught down here.)

But the real attraction of the banquet was the desserts. I've been singing the praises of our bakery in a number of articles now, but they really outdid themselves this time around. Any of you local might know about the Naevestad Christmas Open House and the sheer amount of cookies we've baked for it over the years. So when I say they made a lot of cookies, just know that I mean it. For a few days before the meal, there were volunteers in the bakery helping cook and decorate sugar and ginger bread cookies, truffles, cakes and pies, and more. And all that effort came through on the final product. Plates were loaded with confections of all kinds, and back at the table, I think all of us had at least one bowl loaded up with as much sugar as we thought we could manage. Every dessert was excellent, and all the remainders have been used in the cookie box so that the base can continue to enjoy the treats, even after the holiday.

(What my dentist doesn't know won't hurt me.)

Just like at Thanksgiving, the Galley team had a special meal time at noon so that those working didn't have to try and schedule breaks around the various dining times, and more importantly, so that we could all eat together as a department. Again like Thanksgiving, we quickly ruined the good work setting up the dining hall by dragging the tables all together to form one long family table that we all ate at. It was a glorious festival of laughter, jokes, shouting, toasts, and overindulgence that we all needed. Holidays away from home can be rough, but getting to share in it together was a great time.

(Fire codes are a suggestion.)

And to cap it all off, we even had a White Christmas. While most everything is covered in ice and snow, fluffy snow falling from the sky is a rarity. But the Good Lord saw fit to send us a gentle snowfall all the way into Christmas Day proper.

From all of us at McMurdo and the rest of the Antarctic stations, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

The Undying Spirit of Adventure and the Weirdos That Follow It

Coming to Antarctica is a pretty big commitment. It's at least six months of your life, often in some of the busiest months of the year. You're away from home and family, modern conveniences are absent, and any sense of normalcy is supplanted with work and ice. So what draws people to come down here and willingly put themselves through this?

Any look into the history of Antarctica will tell you the same thing: the spirit of adventure is a siren call for many. Antarctica is the wild unknown, and there's something in us humans that sees that as both terrifying and enchanting. To go somewhere that so few have been to and see it for yourself? The excitement is too much to resist.

That spirit of adventure is why so many of the recreation opportunities are outdoor. The hikes and ski trails let you see even more of the great unknown. Guided events (known as Boondoggles) take those whose job wouldn't let them out into the field and let them explore different parts of this unique continent. The desire to see as much of Antarctica as we can is a driving force. So many that I talked to say they're down here solely for the story: to brag to friends, to have another chapter in their travel log, to fulfill a lifelong dream. Adventure is still in all of us.

Some of us, though, have purely mercenary reasons for being here. While the pay isn't amazing, there're a few things that suddenly make it more tantalizing. There's no cost to travel down here. There's no food or housing cost. No utility bills or home repairs. A lot of what we have to worry about back home in our apartment or house isn't a concern here. With so little overhead, it's mostly profit from whatever you get paid. I've been making extra payments on my student loans, as well as donations to charity events that my friends have been running. Others I know are using the funds to further the things that bring them joy. One of my friends is an intense hiker. He's already hiked from Mexico to Canada, across the entire United States. He's saving to make a hike from the top of New Zealand to the bottom. And after that, maybe a kayak trip up the west coast of the US to Alaska. If you have a dream, this could be a good stepping stone toward it.

Others have their personal reasons to be here. One of my favorite stories is from a buddy I work with. For years now, his parents have told him that he could inherit their restaurant once they retire. And he's been waiting. But every time it's, "Maybe next year." Well, waiting was only going to go so far. So he made the move for independence and came down here. He's not going to put his life on hold for promises that are more like maybes. I've talked to more with similar stories: the need to wipe the slate clean, reset, and eventually return to life and try something new.

For another, it's almost a family tradition. Her son came down in 2009 and told her and her husband that they both would enjoy being down here. So she sent her husband down on a scouting mission in 2014, and the two of them have been coming down together since 2016. She's been a wealth of knowledge about how McMurdo and the program has changed and grown over the years. Many people are like her; they knew someone who came down and shared their experience, and that made them want to come down as well.

The one unifying theme I hear from those who keep coming back is that they return for the people. I've spent most of this article listing out the various kinds of weirdos that come down, and the fact is that most of us weirdos connect with other weirdos and want to stay in community. Many I've met talk about the friends they've made down here and the group texts, Facebook groups, and annual meetups that they continue to share. Whatever you feel about the work, it's the people that really make a job feel like an experience.

And then there's that one coworker I have who just really liked The Thing.

And to the Ends of the Earth - Acts 1:8

I brought my Bible with me to Antarctica. It was given to me by a mentor and is one of my favorite translations. I expected any time spent focused on my faith would be by myself. So imagine my surprise when I learned about The Chapel of the Snows, the southernmost dedicated religious building in the world. With regular Sunday services and Bible studies, I was impressed to see that the Gospel was at work even at the edge of the world.

(Future tattoo idea?)

The chapel is probably my favorite place on base, if only for the aesthetics. Whoever designed the layout knew exactly where to put the chapel so that it was at the heart of everything, and at the most picturesque location. On clear and sunny days you can see most of the mountain range across the horizon. The building itself looks like any country church, but against the backdrop of utilitarian science buildings and winter desert, it's a touch of life that I can't help but admire.

(When we still had sunsets)

We only have official leadership during the summer season. I came down on the Winter Fly-In, and Sunday service was more akin to a small group meeting, where one community member led and had a short devotional—either what they felt led to teach, or one from a book. Now that we're in the proper season, we have chaplains that come down on six week rotations. From what I gather, chaplains come from the Air Guard or the Naval Reserves. There used to be a partnership with the diocese of Christchurch for Catholic priests, but that has apparently been on hiatus. Our first official chaplain was Chaplain Ben, a Lutheran pastor back home, and the second one down is Chaplain Clark, a Southern Baptist.

With the lack of a proper priest, Sunday services have been noted as "inter-faith" services. I won't even try to comment on certain denominational differences, but down here the most important thing is that we're all believers in Jesus. The chapel is set up to accommodate different expressions of faith, including the Stations of the Cross and a prie-dieu prayer desk. We regularly use the naval hymnal, and on the US Navy's birthday, we sang the naval hymn, including a verse directly referencing those who serve in Antarctica. We also make use of the Worship Book, from A Christian Ministry in the National Parks (ACMNP), which is apparently a thing. I never knew.

While music is a big part of most services back home, here it's a crapshoot based on who happens to be on the Ice at any given time if we'll have music. Surprisingly, Steward, one of the guys I work with, has some background in organ music and can play the weird electric organ in the chapel, so he's been providing the music of late. But before him, it was mostly the awkward acapella that comes with no one knowing how to start a song and have people join in. I believe, in the biz, we call that "making a joyful noise." While there are other instruments available, including an electric keyboard, guitars, and tambourine, we usually default to YouTube worship music videos if the need arises.

The chapel is also a bit of a hub for local activities. While it is a Christian church, it also serves as home to other religious services, including the Jewish Shabbat and various meditation practices. There is an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting there every week, as well as the aforementioned Bible study. It served as the registration booth and finish line for the Antarctic Turkey Trot, and will likely serve again for the Antarctic Marathon. And if you just want to jam out on some of the instruments, I suppose that's allowed as well.

Finally, just a few fun facts for you about the Chapel and service down here:

• The original chapel was built in 1956 by the Seabees and was constructed mostly from scrap.
• It houses the Erebus Chalice, a gift to the National Science Foundation that was thought be aboard the HMS Erebus during the Ross Expedition in 1839, but was later discovered to have been made in 1910.
• Depending on the chaplain, we have plenty of items to go along with the church calendar. For All Saints' Day this year, I "lit" a candle down here for Howard, whom many of you might know from Saint Paul. While he had passed a few years ago now, I thought he would get a hardy chuckle knowing he was honored in Antarctica.
• And when  I say "lit" a candle, I mean turned on a battery operated one, because fire is banned in the chapel. The building has burned down twice since its inception, a feeling I'm sure many in the Epleyanna area might be familiar with.

There's a lot down here that makes you feel comfortable away from home: food, holidays, special events, etc. But for me, something that most keeps me going and like I'm not shut out from the world is connecting with those who share my faith and being a part of the community of believers, even at the ends of the earth.

I'm also really excited for what the Christmas service is going to be like.

Williams Field: Show Up and Improvise

McMurdo might be the big hub for us, but there are many branches that grow off the main base. Field camps, research stations, and temporary operating bases are vital to supporting the research and discovery work that goes on down here. And all of them need to eat. For the past couple of weeks, and for what will be the rest of my season, I've had the good fortune to work at the newly rebuilt Williams Field.

Affectionately known as Willy Field, this is the replacement landing zone for the cargo planes coming down to the Ice. Despite the freezing cold, it does get to warm up in some fashion, and eventually the landing strip that is Phoenix Base gets too soft for the wheeled C-17 cargo planes. But C-130s, which are propeller driven, can be fitted with skis and are thus still able to land. So Williams Field gets set up each season before the snow softens to act as the new runway.

When I say "newly rebuilt" it's not because they made some vast improvements to the structures. Willy is one of those temporary operations bases and is set up and taken down every year. All the buildings are not much more than storage units or trailers. Thin and boxy, they manage to stay pretty warm. Every building is on a heavy-duty trailer with skis on the bottom. Each season the buildings are towed out to the landing strip and set up for habitation. In a week or two, a fully functioning air field is established, with maintenance facilities, fire house, guide towers, and of course, the kitchen.

Calling it a kitchen is being rather generous. I toured the USS Drum submarine a while back and having seen the kitchen on that, I think working at Willy is preparing me for life as an undersea cook. We're not equipped with much out there. We've got two ovens that are maybe a step or two above an Easy-Bake Oven, we've got a two burner hot pad that can almost boil water, two induction burners that only work with specific outlets (one that is located in the dining room) and don't work on aluminum pots (the only large one we have), and two table-top fryers that take twenty minutes to crisp up a batch of tater tots. All the same, we put out meals at all four meal times and lunch is our busiest time with upwards of sixty people coming through.

The way out to Willy is by the shuttles. Every day at the start of my shift, I catch the Willy shuttle with the front of house steward working that day and pile in as much of the boxes and trays of food we have to bring as we can. Storage is pretty limited at the Willy kitchen, and while we have a walk-in cooler and a standing freezer, it's hard to keep it stocked. So we have to be in constant communication back with the main kitchen and to each other each shift to know what we're missing and what will need to come out on the shuttle with us. Technology makes this...challenging, but even if we can't match the menu perfectly, as long as people are getting fed, that's the important part. That's the "improvise" part. If we don't have the material to make char siu pork for an Asian night, figure out what you can make with the little bit of leftovers and sauces you do have. Very often I don't know what I'm going to cook until I get there. It's some pressure, but I enjoy the opportunity to try.

But the real interest for me is not the work itself. Cooking is cooking at the end of the day. But the location is so fascinating. The shuttle takes us off the main land and onto the ice shelf. By the time we get to Willy, a whole section of the horizon just stretches into nothing. From behind you can see Mount Erebus and Castle Rock, and way off in the distance are more mountains. But when you imagine Antarctica as this flat wasteland of ice and wind, this place pretty well encapsulates that image.

Willy is probably not the place to work if you're a social butterfly—especially not on the midrats shift. I see next to no one on the regular, and even after work for me, most people are grabbing breakfast and heading off to work, so getting to talk with people is a limited opportunity. But for me, a hermit at heart, the freedom to do things your own way and reside mostly in solitude at the edge of the world, it fits perfectly.

A Happy McMurdo Thanksgiving

On a station that will take any reason they can find to throw a party, you have to know we're celebrating Thanksgiving. This is one of two major holidays that the galley goes all out for—the other being Arbor Day. No, it's Christmas, obviously. I'll keep saying this: food is morale. And while we're all probably the furthest away from family you can be, those touches of home are important for mental health and just enjoying the season.

(The Williams Field crew)

Part of getting into the season is getting the galley decked out in properly fancy attire. And by that I mean table cloths. Nice black or red ones with floral embroidery, but tablecloths nonetheless. And I guess some additional vacuuming. But holidays are only as much fun as you make them, and for some of the stewards and cooks, the traditional black Antarctica logo hats were replaced with some festive and some straight loony hats. Professionalism can be a bit lax on holidays; I think that's fair.

What also makes this a different meal is that it isn't so casual. You don't just blow in and take what you can get during the dinner rush. We're set up for three services over the afternoon, and you need to sign up for a time slot before the meal. Luckily I'm on the night schedule, so the midnight meal sign up is sparsely populated. As far as I can tell, this is to help the front and back of house keep the entire galley in working order and not have to feed the full 850 staff a fine meal in the first three minutes.

But separating out the service times also allows for something I wasn't aware of. See, for the past two weeks, front and back of house have been preparing for this meal. The kitchen has been prepping ingredients and setting up pans and containers so that once the cooking begins, they can take whatever they need and quickly send it into the ovens or steamers. The front of house has been setting up decorations, cleaning extra spaces, and stockpiling drinks, napkins, utensils, and everything else needed to actually eat the meal. A lot of work goes into serving this many people. But then the question comes: when do galley staff get to celebrate the holiday? Turns out we had set up a separate meal time at noon for the galley to be able to enjoy the meal just like anyone else. I had not realized this was a thing until I was hanging in the galley on my holiday day off (more on that later) and was told to come join. I think I missed a memo somewhere.

So that lets me talk about the most important part of the day: food. Now I'm sure some of you have large families. If you have to cook for more than seven people, it can be a bit of a challenge. Thus you might expect that some sacrifices would have to be made in terms of quality to feed 850 people. Nah. Everything was excellent and I don't imagine it would have been better at home. We had everything you would expect: stuffing, dinner rolls, green bean casserole, all kinds of veggies, real mashed potatoes, and of course the stars of the show, full roast turkey and glazed ham, carved right on the line. And also plenty of sugar with pumpkin, apple, and pecan pies. The real surprise to me was that wine was available, red and white. There was a whole table set up with wine glasses and someone distributing a (reasonable) glass of wine to anyone.

It didn't take too long for the first galley people with their plates to start shifting the nicely made up tables into one long table for as many of us to sit at as possible.

(The never ending table of food service.)

I heard more than a few people say that it was nice to be able to casually sit down with everyone for what might have been the first time. More often than not, we're all busy and our breaks are the only time we have to unwind. And front and back of house usually don't have overlapping breaks. So all of us together for a meal was a new experience.

While food is the main attraction, there were a few other Thanksgiving activities that were planned. We had our very own 5K Turkey Trot, with a track leading around the base, out and back again. The weather was cold(er) and with some slight snowfall, which is a rarity, so I commend any of the runners who even attempted it, let alone completed it. Other activities include weekly karaoke being moved back a day to coincide with the holiday, and many of the clubs and social groups getting together to do fun, Thanksgiving related activities.

Speaking of the holidays, most people had Saturday off, as well as the usual Sunday off. This is known as Town Hours and is the most common schedule: six days on with Sunday off. For the galley staff, we have to adjust. Everyone has to eat, so the kitchen can't close for a day off. Everyone in the galley has a certain day off in the week so that we mostly have a full staff every service. And so that they don't miss any holidays, they get floating holiday time for every time Town Hours has one off. So people in the galley were getting their Thanksgiving holiday throughout the month of November, and the same will be true for Christmas, New Years, and any other federally recognized holidays. For me, since I've been working at Williams Field of late and my schedule is a bit odd, I get normal Town Hours, so I was able to enjoy most of the Thanksgiving activities.

The holiday has been something that I think everyone was looking forward to, and even now that it's passed, the good will that it brought us isn't likely to fade for a while. Being away from home is tough for many of us, so coming together like this and feeling like a part of a community, even in a small way, is comforting. And we all have things to be thankful for. Myself? I'm thankful for Starlink Internet. And I mean that mostly seriously (mostly...). McMurdo in the digital age like it let's me share these stories with all of you. And more importantly, it lets me take part in my family's weekly Zoom call and stay connected with my parents and brother. That means a lot to me, and without that family connection, I think life would have been much harder down here.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

The Past, Frozen in Time

The wild, untamed nature of Antarctica is part of its charm, but it's also underlined by the history that covers it. Explorers have been coming to the edge of the world for a long time, with the first landing on the main continent of Antarctica probably taking place in 1821. A lot of dedication and lives went into making all this possible, and it's something that everyone here feels in some regard. From the various historical artifacts on display, to the pictures on the walls, to the names of mountains and landmarks, my daily experience is steeped in the history of this place. And is most clearly shown in the Discovery Hut.

Viewable from most places on station, Discovery Hut on Hut Point is a moment in history that stands to this day. With careful tending from those who came before, this historic structure reminds everyone of who came before and what they had to go through. Now over a hundred years later, having the chance to look inside and get a feel for what life was life is pretty amazing.

(Zoomed in view of the hut from the chapel in town.)

I'm not a historian, so I won't try and give you the full details of everything that surrounded the hut and the expedition that allowed it to be built. As a short overview, Discovery Hut was built in 1902 by Robert Falcon Scott and his expedition team during the Discovery Expedition, 1901-1904. While it was supposed to serve as a land main base and living quarters, it was hard to keep warm and mostly used for storage; the crew that would use it spent most of their living on the ship. It was used by a few more exploration parties during the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration before being left behind and buried under snow. It was found again in 1956, remarkably well-preserved, (we'll get to that later), and was
eventually declared a historic monument under the Antarctic Treaty.

The Wikipedia article can give you just as much context if your curiosity has been sufficiently whet. So let me just tell you about what it's like to actually see the hut and go inside it.

But before we head inside, let me introduce you to Nigel. I don't know if there's an official name for this seal, but I'm calling him Nigel.

(Nigel has had a rough few decades.)

Nigel here is a great example of what happens to life out here. He's basically totally mummified. While it's doubtful he was there during the 1902 exploration, Nigel has been around for a long time. There are a number of places around where you can come across similarly mummified penguins and skuas. Because of the freezing temperatures, most things that die and don't get immediately eaten tend to just end up preserved. The same is true for things like rations and leathers (foreshadowing).

Now one interesting thing about the modern buildings is that they all have double entrances. The door you enter typically leads into a smaller space with another door that opens into the building. The first door is almost always unlocked, even if the entrance door is locked. I've had to duck into a building before just to generate some warmth before heading back out. I bring this up because the hut has the same feature, an entrance to the facility and an indoor entrance to the main building. Off to the side is a room where hung seal blubber and some skulls sit, still mostly intact and preserved.

(Reminds me of my closet back home. Need to clean that....)

Inside is not much more than a large box, still full of many of the supplies and items that the team left behind. The room is sectioned off with heavy curtains, a tradition that lives on here at McMurdo to keep your bed private from your roommates. And while I can't imagine it provided much protection, anything that helps keep the wind at bay was likely a welcome addition.

We still see the provisions they left behind, including some hard tack you could probably still eat. But why would you, honestly? Off to the side is some additional seal blubber and skins, again well-preserved and fascinating to see.

(Basically a chocolate chip cookie....)

There are really only three rooms: the central storage room, the living space with the stove and sleeping pallets, and what was apparently a lab.

(Gift Shop)

(Home Sweet Frostbite)

(Mad Science Lab)

Admittedly, even after seeing it in person, there's not much spectacle to it. But the weight of the history it represents can't be overstated. I'd have regretted it had I not taken the time to tour it, and even with my poor photography skills, I think it's a memory I'll hold on to for a long time.

For Today's Menu

One question I hear often is: what do you actually cook? Everyone might be expecting MREs and freeze-dried everything. But something that one of the winter chefs told me is that it apparently takes more effort and energy to rehydrate and reassemble a meal than it does to do what we do. We don't have astronaut food here; most of our freezer looks just like any frozen food warehouse. And the menu here is surprisingly robust.

Much of what we have down here will be familiar to those of you in food service. Names like US Foods, Sysco, and Rich's are well represented on our packaging. And boy do we have boxes. Thursday is our food pull day and when I come in for my mid-rat shift, the coolers and freezers are stacked to the ceiling with boxes of frozen foods. You might be surprised to learn that while we might get three hundred pounds of fresh oranges in a fresh delivery, we'll go through that before they even have a chance to think of going green. The fresh product—known as "freshies" to those in the know, and also to the insufferable—is very much a highlight for everyone down here. When we have real salad on the line and fruit readily available, you can almost feel the atmosphere liven up. And you know we've got too many millennials on base when we put out a huge bowl of avocados and they're all gone by the end of lunch. Green grapes are my poison and it's hard to be restrained when I'm grabbing a bowl of them.

Of course we have a lot of canned and shelf stable product—what kitchen doesn't? Things like pastas and legumes will live forever down here, but we also have many sauces and canned items that give us more options when the fresh stock is dwindling. While you won't be finding any A5 wagyu or white alba truffles, everything that we have can be turned into some pretty excellent dishes. We have a five-week rotation on our menu, so hopefully everyone down here won't get too sick of what we're having. (Having worked at a place with a one-week menu rotation, let me tell you that peanut butter and jelly very quickly became the only option.)

Let me just list some things that we've had on the line:

• Jerk chicken
• Italian beef
• Homemade mac and cheese
• Taco Tuesday (every Tuesday....)
• Philly cheese steak sandwiches
• Lentil Bolognese
• Jambalaya with mussels
• Steak (New York Strip, Ribeye, Sirloin, and more)
• Seared tuna
• Roasted Brussel sprouts
• Chicken Tikka Masala
• Beef mole
• Pork vindaloo
• Blackened salmon
• Pulled pork
• Chorizo paella
• Leg of lamb
• Crab cakes
• Sauerbraten
• Char siu pork
• And a lot more.

Quite the list right? And certainly more intricate than you might expect. Most of the other cooks and chefs down here have a pretty robust knowledge of the work and lots of experience. It's not just cafeteria food or whatever we have lying around. A lot of work and pride goes into the food. I've heard from others who have worked in similar remote locations that the food we provide is leagues better than what they've had to live on. I don't say that just to toot our horn—although that is a bonus—but to show that we're able to do so much more at the edge of the world than you might think.

I'll say this a lot, but food is morale. For those working down here—thousands of miles from home and loved ones, in the harshest climate, and only a few luxuries—they need to find the good things where they can get them, and food is one of those. We keep all kinds of things stacked here. Do you want chocolate chip cookies 24/7 (I'm looking at you, Dad)? We got it. A bunch of cereal all day (Froot Loops included)? Better get it fast, it goes out quick. A virtual waterfall of orange juice? As long as the machine is working, absolutely (so like 50% of the time). Our bakers turn out fantastic desserts at every meal: trifles, cakes, pastries, the works. While we can't meet every demand, and some things are just not realistic given our situation, everyone should be able to find a few things that they like and keeps them going.

I'm not much of a trained chef, but I'm learning a lot down here from people with loads of experience. And if we can all put that together to make the rest of staff's time on the Ice a bit easier, I think that's a win for everyone.

Avoiding the Ice Crazies Through Strategic Use of Sunlight

Last week we talked about the social and recreational environment inside the base. But for many, it's the outside that draws their attention. Of course, we're all mesmerized by the Antarctic environment—just being here is often fulfilling enough for those of us not inclined to the outdoors. But for those with a hunger to explore, or just better hiking shoes, there are plenty of outdoor activities to engage with.

Before we begin, however, let's take a moment to discuss health and safety—just like I had to. I mentioned in a previous article how much focus on safety there is, and the same is true for recreational safety. The Outdoor Safety Lecture is the standard for all program members to get them acquainted with the procedure to explore wisely. Importantly for long hikes, we're shown the process of checking in with Comms and keeping in contact. Most long hikes require you to have at least two people and meet with the communication team, set up an estimated return time, and take a radio with you. If you don't return by the estimated time, or answer any emergency radio contact, then the whole search and rescue team—including the helicopters—have to mobilize to find you. So if you were already home and in bed, that's going to be a real embarrassing conversation later.

Hiking is probably the main outdoor activity down here. There are a surprising number of trails available, with some as short as a mile and change, and others a full nine-mile excursion. We have fifteen marked trails, although some of those are trails within other trails. Each line is carefully marked as to avoid anyone wandering off the trail, or worse, into a dangerous ice field. Crevasses are a common feature out here, often hard to identify due to the snow, and very often far deeper than you expect. A crevasse that looks a few inches across on the surface can be tens of feet deep, and still wide enough to get caught in. So when hiking, following the guidelines is critical.

The shortest and likely the easiest hike is to Hut Point. Called such because of the original exploration hut that still resides there, Hut Point has a lot of history behind it and probably deserves it's own article in the coming weeks. Hut Point is visible from most points in McMurdo and offers a great view of the station on one side and the sea ice on the other. It's where I've seen some seals pop up and sunbathe themselves as well.

Another hike of import is Observation Hill. Affectionately known as Ob Hill, Ob is practically right in town and visible from pretty much anywhere. It's not uncommon to look out the galley window during breaks (at any time of the day) and see people standing on the summit. At only 750 feet high, Ob Hill isn't a real mountain climb, but it certainly gives a great top-down view of the base. Ob Hill is also home to the Everest Challenge. If you climb Ob Hill thirty-nine times, you'll have climbed just a few feet more than the height of Mount Everest. For accomplishing this feat, you receive the prestigious award of a cool sticker. Our executive sous chef Max has already accomplished this feat, as have others, and the many main body hikers are well on their way. There is even a story passed around from some past year where one person did the Everest Challenge in one day. Sounds like madness to me, but this place gets you like that.

The most ambitious hike here is the Castle Rock Loop. A full nine miles from beginning to end, this hike takes you to the iconic Castle Rock, a large crag that served as a landmark for explorers back in the day. It's a red-brown rock that contrasts dramatically with the white and blacks of the snow and rock. It's not uncommon for this trek to take seven hours or more, so there's some careful planning that needs to go into undertaking it. Information from Comms. and the weather team is the most important part before setting out. Just because the weather is nice at the station doesn't mean that it won't turn on a dime and make you scramble for your survival bag. There are a few huts along the way for shelter. Though sparse, they'll get you out of the wind and let you warm up. Once at Castle Rock, if you included it in your itinerary for Comms., you can climb to the top for a unique look at Antarctica. The Loop is for the most seasoned hikers, and not one that someone like me might readily undertake.

Although I keep mentioning hiking, there are a couple other options as well. We've got access to wide-tire terrain bikes, if you want to make the Castle Rock Loop in five hours, rather than seven. While you do have to be aware of the ice, the bikes are surprisingly stable and the ride is fun. While you won't be making any Tour de France showings, it's another great story to tell. Along with bikes, cross-country skies are also available, with some specific paths dedicated to them. While you can still make the Loop and other straight hikes with the skis, you also have access to some of the airfields and outposts.

There are plenty of opportunities to tour the continent if you're willing to put in the effort. A hike in this climate will definitely take its toll on you, different to most hikes you might be familiar with. But for the chance to see parts of the world so few people get to see and experience the unique beauty of it, what better reward could you ask for?

Just don't forget your check-in times. Seriously. The embarrassment is palpable.

How to Avoid the Ice Crazies

As with any isolated environment, keeping yourself entertained is vital. You can't just work and sleep for six months, you've got to stay stimulated. I'm not much of a hiker or outdoorsman, so if I'm looking to have some fun or distract myself, it'll be inside. Most of the activities that go on around here are led by individuals, though the station does put on the occasional activity through official channels. But there's plenty to do if you know where to look.

For starters, each residential building has a lounge on each floor. They've got comfortable chairs, at least one TV, and bookshelves full of books and board games. These are the "designated" hang out spots and are more often than not meeting places for things like movie nights and watch-alongs. I'm sure it's no surprise to anyone that I've heard of a few different The Thing movies nights for Halloween—it's basically a tradition. There is also the opportunity to watch movies and shows in your rooms. Each dorm room also has a TV, but it's likely more work to coordinate around your roommates schedules. As a mid-rat, working and sleeping weird hours, my roommates are usually considerate enough to not bring friends in and party while I'm sleeping.

For those who can't hang in their room too much, the galley is a popular hang out spot as well. I've seen many a board game night while going in and out of the kitchen. Since the bar closures, the galley has become a general spot for people to congregate, even if it's just to talk or grab a late night snack. If you don't mind being slightly underfoot as the stewards do their job, it can also be a nice place to focus on your own work. I often grab a table in the galley to get some writing done (like I am right now!).

For those with a crafty proclivity, we have our own craft room on station. Supplied with plenty of yarn, paint, paper, and other supplies, plenty of people find unique ways to create. And while I'm sure it's nice to work on your own, there are dedicated nights to craft as a group, with stitching circles and painting groups set up to encourage one another. We also have access to Gear Issue and their plethora of indoor activities. While they also have board games and such, I was most surprised to find they have older generations of gaming consoles. If you want to rent a PlayStation or Xbox, they've got all you need to hook it up to the TV in your room, games included!

While our jobs keep most of us pretty busy and sweating, I wouldn't call it exercise. So if you had a fitness routine before coming down here, you might be concerned about maintaining your healthy lifestyle. Well fret not, while we in the kitchen can't help you with your food macros (or how many cookies you take), there are facilities to keep yourself in shape. There are three gyms on base, each with a separate purpose. The furthest out and probably least used is the sports gym. It's got a full-sized basketball court and doubles as the pickle ball court. It also has a small climbing wall you can be trained to use. The second gym is the weights and aerobics room, which is connected to the main building (and has a secret passage to through the kitchen, but don't tell anyone I told you). The aerobics room is your standard open room with mirrors on one side. People host different classes there, from yoga to martial arts to dance. Connected to it is the weights room, which has a wide selection of free weights and benches, as well as a maybe fifteen different machines in total. Anything you can do at Planet Fitness, you can probably do here. Finally, there's the affectionately named Gerbil Gym. This is the gym I've mostly been using as it is filled with treadmills, ellipticals, stair climbers, and my personal favorite, rowing machines. If the harsh climate of the outside is too much and keeps you from hiking, you can still get your heart rate up here. While I'm still starting out, I hope that doing regular rowing will build some healthy habits for me.

There are also some unexpected opportunities, if you want to try something new. While the bars don't serve alcohol, they still serve as a meeting place and every Friday they play host to trivia night or karaoke. There's a station radio program and you can sign up for your own time slot show; it reminds me of the radio shows I did in college. There's a library available as well, though the hours are dependent on the volunteers, and I have yet to have a chance to explore it (not to mention I thrifted enough books for a while).

Much like food, entertainment is morale as well, and in an isolated environment like this, you need everyone in as good a mood as possible. A big part of that is on us, however. It's about getting to know your coworkers and people on station, making good connections, and enjoying life together.

Next week, I'll be sharing some of the interesting things you can do outside, if you're willing to brave the climate. 

Picking the Bones

One of the biggest stressors for me (and my mother) when I was packing was whether I would have everything that I needed—Do I have enough socks? Should I bring my own shaving cream? Face wash? Soap? Should I bring snacks that I might miss? Am I bringing the right kind of thermal layers? Question after question. And the cloud hanging over all of it was: what do I do if I do need something? Not like I can pop down to the local Walmart or get two-day delivery from Amazon. And I think they frown on hunting penguins for their down.

But I'm not the first person to have this concern. Even for returners, there's the weight of getting what you need and holding onto the things you brought. But if you find yourself in need, there's a place here you can search for your heart's desire: Skua. Skuas are carrion birds that feed here in Antarctica. If there's something out there they can eat, they'll pick it clean. That ethos is what led to naming the "thrift store" on base.

Skua is a building at McMurdo that is the final (or temporary) resting place for anything that previous staff brought with them and didn't want to cart back home. Anything from clothes, bedding, and shoes, to books, technology, spices, and more, all end up in Skua, waiting for their next owner. If you found that you didn't have a warm enough blanket, Skua likely has one. If you broke your alarm clock, Skua has another stashed away. If you want something to read and Library hours are just not jiving with your schedule, Skua has plenty of trash novels to pick from (I should know, I picked up thirty-five of them for my room).

(My treasure trove)

And the best part of this time period is that the winter-overs are leaving, meaning they're dumping all their stuff for Skua, and at the same time, Main Body still hasn't shown up in full. So for those of us here and staying, there's a treasure trove of new nonsense to pick through. And it's all free! Frankly I'm glad my father isn't down here as he'd dedicate a whole suitcase to return with things he could use back home. Free is a good deal, after all.

Skua will likely cover any incidentals that you might need, and some things you didn't even know you wanted, but what about limited quantity items. Just because bacteria growth is hindered in this cold doesn't mean you can lay off the soap. And some people can't live without their Red Bull, so if we want a smooth kitchen shift, there needs to be a ready supply. Thankfully, commerce is alive and well on The Ice and we have a proper store on base.

While certainly not the Mall of America, the McMurdo store has plenty of the essentials for daily life, along with the luxuries that get you through the day. As expected, there's plenty of toiletries and daily necessities. I brought plenty of my own cold medicine and Tylenol, but there's a full suite of over-the-counter medications and vitamins. For those here in winter, when it's all darkness all the time, a ready supply of vitamin D is crucial. There's soaps, shampoos, and other cleaners—which experienced staffers tell me creates an interesting problem where everyone eventually smells the same and you go even more nose blind. Everything to keep you decently healthy and clean can be bought in some fashion, even if it's the cheap stuff. If you've got a complicated skin routine, make sure you bring your own supplies.

But it's not just about staying alive—morale is important too. We've already covered that alcohol is available and important to many down here, but the breadth of available product is rather impressive. While there's some amount of wine and spirits available, there's a whole wall dedicated to beers and such. Although if you want your favorite, get there early on restock days. Otherwise you'll be left with the Coors Light or whatever undesirables are left over. For those of us who don't drink, there's a regular rotation of sodas available—again, your favorite might not be there or be in limited supply, so learn to make do when you can. There's also a ready (and rotating) supply of candy and snacks, for those like me with a fiendish sweet tooth. So while you can't always guarantee something, there's plenty of tastes of home for us to enjoy.

Of course there's also plenty of Antarctica swag in the store. If you want shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, patches, or stickers with McMurdo and Antarctica iconography on it, it's available in spades. How else are you going to let people know you came to the edge of the world if you don't rep it on your knit cap? Jokes aside, they are pretty decent quality, and I'm sure many people, myself included, bring them home as souvenirs for their friends and family.

If I do come back for a second season, or again at a later date, it's good to know that I don't need to stress as much over every little thing that I "need" to bring down here. There's plenty I can buy to sustain myself, as well as people smarter than me leaving their treasures behind to be used. Really, it's a statement to the community mindset of McMurdo that Skua is such a great option and that those leaving want to share their supplies with us left behind. And when I leave, I'm sure that I'll leave some useful items for those who come next, to make their lives a little easier and more comfortable. Like others did for me.

And though it pains me, yes, I'll leave behind the novels I finish reading. And those that I don't, I guess. Maybe.

The LiDAR Tour or Why Todd is Not a Scientist

I'm going to preface this by saying, "I am not a smart man." There's a lot of science talk that goes way over my head, so as cool as this experience was, I'm definitely going to misinterpret some details and forget others. But hopefully this will be a foundation for further inquiry if it catches your interest.

Despite what my previous articles might indicate, Antarctica is not just booze and leftovers with cheese; there's actual science that happens here! The reason we're all here is because Antarctica provides a unique environment for exploration and discovery, and people like me support them. Recently I got to visit one of these science fields and hear about the research they are doing.

I had the chance to visit the New Zealand LiDAR system. And if you're anything like I was when the tour was announced, you might be wondering what a LiDAR is? As I understand it, it's basically like a radar system that uses light instead of radio waves. By using different kinds and frequencies of lasers, the scientists can detect the light refracting off of material to measure certain properties of that material.

At the LiDAR we toured, they were measuring iron and sodium in the metallic vapor layer of earth's atmosphere. Because apparently earth has a layer of metal floating above it all the time! Didn't know that. But by using a specific green laser and a headlight yellow laser, the system can detect the metal and draw conclusions. How it works is that the laser is shot into the air at the resonant frequency of the metal the team is trying to detect. Once it hits that metal in the atmosphere, it refracts off of it and is "caught" by giant telescope lenses back at the station. Using a spectrometer, they get a bunch of data from the test and can move on from there.

So light is the key element at work here. That's one of the reasons that this facility is down in Antarctica. Over the winter, there are months without sunlight, meaning that there is no solar interference that they have to filter through when reading the data from their laser. That said, their system is apparently real smart and can filter out the sun's light pretty well, although it still works better at night.

The metal layer is apparently made up of more metallic elements than oxygen—less air than metal. I don't know what to do with that fact, but I thought it was neat. But that also makes it easier to read certain data points. One thing we were told is that they can learn about the wind speed at that altitude. It's too high for weather balloons, so normal measurement tools aren't as useful. But when using the LiDAR, they can tell if the metal particles are moving and how quickly, giving them a picture of the atmospheric shifts going on up there.

That's pretty cool, but the question as always is: how is this practical? Glad you asked! From the scientist who gave us the tour, this data can show us:

• How energies at the pole interact
• How waves transfer energy
• How the atmosphere reacts to energy inputs
• How the metal layer effects weather models

I don't know what any of those actually mean! I'm just retelling you what he told us. But this does seem to have some level of use and interest. One of the women that was with us said that her daughter's boyfriend wanted to study this exact thing—which A: small world, and B: seems really specific and I don't know how someone decides that's going to be their specialty.

While we were there, we also had a chance to see some meteors falling, including one of the brightest and greenest shooting stars I've seen in years. It actually prompted an interesting discussion with our guide. Meteors like that are a big reason that the metal layer exists—various kinds of space debris comes into our atmosphere and doesn't make it to land, but burns up and stays in the metal layer. I asked how much that one meteor might add to the layer and apparently that's a really big question in this field. No one really knows, but estimates are that a shooting star like we saw could add literal tons of metal to the metallic later.

I hope that while I'm down here, I can see other scientific efforts and the cool things they're working on. While I didn't understand a whole lot of what we were shown, I did appreciate the brilliance and unique approaches that the scientific world can use in a land like Antarctica. It puts into perspective the "laymen" work that I and the others do to keep this place running. There's a lot of cool things happening, even if I don't see or understand all of it.

And let me just say it took a herculean effort not to look into the one laser we were shown.

The yellow laser used to measure sodium. It's the one that would be most easily visible for us on the tour.

Last Call for the Bar at the Edge of the World

This might be the closest thing to breaking news that this blog will ever cover. At the time of writing, the bars—Gallagher's and Southern—have stop serving alcohol.

First off, if this is a surprise to some of you: yes! We do have (had?) functioning bars at McMurdo Station. Alcohol was regularly served after the normal workday and both were popular for those who were not working late or overnight. If there is a social heart at McMurdo, it's the bar.

There has, however, been rumblings and requests for a while now for more alcohol-free spaces. Not everyone on station drinks—myself included though this was in the works even before I was hired—and the opportunity to treat some more problematic behavior in the community must have made this an attractive opportunity for the McMurdo leadership. So after one last hurrah, alcohol service was ended and both bars have become monitored hangout spots with opening and closing hours, rather than the 24-hour lounges they were before.

This does not mean, however, that alcohol is banned or that McMurdo is a dry station (though we'll get to that later). As is fitting for what was previously a naval base, everyone has an alcohol ration they are allotted and are able to purchase alcohol of varying kinds from the McMurdo store. The bars were apparently not part of that ration, so now there's a limit to the amount of alcohol someone can consume on a weekly basis. So while they won't serve alcohol at the bar, you can bring and consume your own alcohol there (the bars will be serving sodas and other soft drinks, but I highly doubt anyone will really be paying for those).

Hopefully that serves as an introduction to the bars and alcohol in general on station. We're going to talk a bit about why they made this change and whether it will be effective or not. As a fair warning, much of this will be based on speculation from myself and other coworkers that I've spoken with, as well as some rumors that have been going around. How true these rumors are remains to be seen, but their validity doesn't have any effect on how people live their lives once hearing them.

So to begin, I actually think this may have been a good move on station management's part. Both for the health of the station workers and for their safety. By health, I mean the obvious stuff. If my last post didn't hammer it home enough, slips, trips, and falls really are the most common form of injury on the station. And if we know anything about alcohol, it's that coordination often goes right out the door; not to mention thinning blood and susceptibility to cold, both of which are obviously bad here. But all of those can be mitigated with careful consumption, a "designated driver," and general self-control.

But more to the matter is safety. The United States Antarctic Program has a few skeletons, as any organization does, but also being a government entity, they are fairly well documented. While not a pattern, and certainly not such an epidemic as to warrant major safety concerns for those of you back home, there are many documented instances of harassment and inappropriate behavior on station. And the most common factor among those events is alcohol. I doubt I need to outline what happens to inhibitions and decision-making when alcohol is overly involved. So in an effort to stem and eventually stop these kinds of behavior, shutting down the bars might be a first step to totally shutting down intoxicated misbehavior.

There's talk about making McMurdo an entirely dry station—no alcohol whatsoever (except to cook with, but if you drink that, I pity you). It honestly may not be the worst idea. Despite being a science base, McMurdo has a bit of a reputation as a party place. Drinking is the national sport down here. I've been told by returning staff that some people that come here actually lose money because of how much they drink. When room and board are both covered and you have really no bills, that is an obscene amount of alcohol to drink. As one of my coworkers pointed out, this place isn't spring break. You are expected to work and work well. You don't come down to party and then drag your hungover body to your job. If the party culture is that prevalent, it could be getting in the way of quality work and a safe work environment for others.

So if the goal is to change the culture of McMurdo station and protect the individuals that work here, I think having to cut off a limb to save the body is the right step. What's important will be to see how leadership follows up with this to offer new opportunities for staff as well as outlining a plan going forward. Keeping your workers in the dark about plans often leads to unease and a lack of faith in upper management. But the keen-eyed of you might have picked up on a flaw in this proposed solution.

When I talked with my coworkers about this, I asked two questions: was this decision well-thought-out? And will it work as leadership wants it to? I think we've come to the conclusion on the first part that there is a worthwhile intent behind the change, and that it may have been thought through. But will it work like they want? While the bars will not be serving alcohol, we still have our own ration of alcohol.

You know what they say about good intentions, the road to hell is paved with them. Stopping sale of alcohol at the bars could theoretically limit the amount of drinking, but it also opens new problems. In general, this is where much of the dissatisfaction comes from on station. And there are a few points to consider.

The first is that this doesn't necessarily limit the amount people will drink. While the alcohol ration is limited, it is also weekly and can (and probably will be) stockpiled. There's no real limit on what people can do with their own property. One of my coworkers said that the problems they faced related to alcohol happened away from the bar. People's actions will still be effected by their drinking. And linked to that is that it will no longer be localized to one area. Now that the bars have regular hours, people will need to find new places to take their after-party. The only real options are the galley, the dorm lounges, and their rooms. That means that any additional alcohol-influenced behavior is going to happen in more secluded and "residential" places. What might have been avoided at the bar could well fall into someone's lap while "home." As one kitchen member said, if someone wants to act like a hooligan, they will, regardless of location.

Next up is that this basically begs for a black market to be created. I've mentioned before, but I'm not the only one who doesn't drink. Other people aren't using their alcohol ration for their own enjoyment. But everyone still has one, even if they don't use it. So what's stopping someone from using their ration and then turning around and selling the alcohol to those who do want it. Yes, there are rules against that—misappropriation of government assets or something—but that's what makes it a black market. Supply and demand often makes it worth the risk to some people. People will get their alcohol, one way or another.

And third, this is taking away public space. What used to be a hangout spot is now limited in when it can be used. The initial push was for more alcohol-free social zones, but with the bars closing as they are, that leaves even less space for casual socialization. There's now the galley, which is now sort of the bar #2, there's the dorm lounges, which all fall under the 24-hour quiet hours rule, there's the craft room, which is only open at certain times, and there's the rec room, same issue. And there has been a rumor going around that if things like the rec room aren't being used enough, then it will get changed over to office space, further limiting the amount of social spaces. I don't think we're asking for a whole new building to be erected here for the sole purpose of board games and book clubs, but by taking away a social space and not filling that void, it really feels like the walls are tightening around the staff. If you don't hike or ski, do you really have a place here to relax uninhibited with friends?

This has obviously not been an extremely popular choice among the staff. There's even been a rumor that some forty people backed out of their contracts when they heard the bars were closed. With only around 900 people expected this season, that's not an insignificant number. And many people that I've talked to just think this is a bad idea.

For me, it's been a very interesting week. I don't have a dog in this fight; I'm not drinking while down here. But my investigative journalist has been stirred and listening to people and asking questions has been very enlightening. If I had one take away from this, it would be to encourage leadership to be open and honest about what they want to achieve and to have a set plan on how to get there. People are not happy right now, and part of that is the ambiguity. You've taken a "toy" away and not really explained why. That's going to foster some resentment. If this is going to be a cultural change, embrace that and let the chips fall where they may. The people that will come back after the fact are those you want if you're doing something new.

And for everyone else, drink responsibly.

Stay cool everyone.

The fact that kitchens function at all is a miracle

Hopefully after being here over a month, I can wrap my head around what a day in the kitchen looks like. For those of you who have been in food service, I'm sure this won't be too out of the ordinary for you. Even at the edge of the world, people need to eat and the ways to get food out to them are still pretty standard. There's a lot more to the logistics of it and I hope to get a chance to talk in depth with Executive Chef Rob Greene about that for a later article. But from fridge to plate, it's easy enough to understand.

As a caveat before we begin: during the main body season, the kitchen technically runs 24/7, with a new shift called Mid-rats (which someone once explained what meant, but my quail brain has since forgotten). This overnight shift currently isn't active, so I can't tell you too much about it, but just know that when everyone is here, there's always an opportunity for food.

Anyway, things start off with breakfast and the kitchen opens at 4 a.m. Breakfast is a pretty simple affair, usually consisting of scrambled eggs, home fries, some kind of protein like bacon or sausage, and some sort of additional breakfast entrée like a breakfast casserole or French toast. We also have one of our Action Stations open, the egg line. If the buffet options aren't cutting it, you can come in and order some fresh made eggs or an omelet. Unsurprisingly, the egg line is probably the most popular spot in the morning, but breakfast as a whole is currently pretty sparsely attended. The early morning is mostly handled by one guy, Marty, and when I was working the a.m. shift, he was typically done with the line by the time I arrived. (I feel as though Marty has been unfairly banished to the mornings because people got tired of his dad jokes. Stay strong Marty. Every workplace needs a Marty.)

The next shift to start is the a.m. shift. This typically begins at 5 a.m., though on Sunday it starts at 5:30 as that is Brunch day and breakfast is basically cancelled. A.m. is mainly focused on lunch. The goal is typically to have everything prepared (or mise'd from the term mise en place) by 7:30 as that is when the first a.m. break is. Then from roughly 8:15 on it's time to get lunch together. We're on a five-week menu rotation, so even for how long I've been here, I don't think I've seen everything that we put out. All that to say that there's really no one consistent thing about a menu I can share as an example, but methodology is typically the same. We use four big ovens, three tilt skillets, a four-well fryer, two steam "ovens," some giant steam jacket vats, and the most jank stove top on earth that we try to never use. There's a lot of ways to get food hot is what I'm saying.

At 11 a.m. is when the p.m. shift begins. Similar to the a.m. shift, the goal is to get everything mise'd out before the 1 p.m. lunch break and to come back from that ready to put together dinner. Having worked both shifts now, they're pretty similar in how things are managed and how dishes get put together. As long as it tastes good and gets out there on time, we call that a win.

There are also two additional elements in the kitchen. First is the bakery. Bakery keeps us stocked with cookies in the to-go box and all kinds of interesting desserts for meals. As someone with a fiendish sweet tooth, I have nothing but respect for the bakers, long may they reign. The other is the "garde manger" if you're being proper, or salads if you're being at all practical or useful. As expected, they take care of the cool ingredients and yes the salad, but as lettuce is a rarity down here, "salad" tends to be a broad term, often including pasta salads and the like. I fully admit I haven't spent a lot of time paying attention to this area. Once you start setting up a chocolate chip cookie salad, hit me up and I'll be there post-haste.

As mentioned before, we also have Action Stations. These are for made to order or made live items. Again, egg line is at breakfast. The famous McMurdo Garnish is our pizzas, which is currently only done three times a week, but is going to be daily, 24/7 when main body hits. Having worked the pizza stations a few times, it's a surprisingly fun time. We'll also do different one offs like burgers, burritos, and steak carving. None of those are on a set schedule, but come up as the wind takes us. There's been talk about doing Action Stations every day once main body arrives, and that's apparently a new thing, so we'll see how that goes.

There's a lot of moving parts in a kitchen and many different ways to approach the tasks and check lists, but at the end of the day, the goal is always the same: make a meal people can enjoy. I'm fine with doing a lot of the grunt work and letting the more knowledgeable leaders keep things on track. If you need someone to dice fifty pounds of onions or peel seven bags of potatoes, I'm your guy. It's a lot of expertise and experiences that make it all function and I'm frankly amazed that any amount of people actually end up fed, let alone every meal every day.

Now, back to that chocolate chip cookie salad....