antarctica, or, there is always a way

2017

At first I thought the only way to get to Antarctica was to spend $10,000 on a cruise or go down as a researcher or artist-in-residence. Since I didn’t have that kind of money, and certainly not the time or inclination to get a science degree, I thought my only option was to create a work of sheer artistic genius... until I went to the Peace Corps doctor for my redeployment physical and noticed a certificate from the U.S. Antarctic Program on her wall.

“You went to Antarctica? How do I get there?”

“Can you wash dishes?”

Turns out there’s a whole support staff hired by the USAP to do all the grunt work that goes along with science. As soon as I finished the Peace Corps I started working on my application.

Actually, that’s not quite true. As soon as I got back from Malawi, I started training for the Appalachian Trail — because I had four years to live, and honestly, when was I ever going to be better prepared to thru-hike the AT than after two years of fetching my own water and pooping in a hole?

Prepared. *Photo courtesy of the incredibly talented* *Harrison June*.

It was from a cell phone on the side of the Trail that I submitted my first application. The original is lost to the sands of time, but I believe I’ve recreated a faithful approximation here:

April 15, 2016 [four months after applications open lol]

Hello!
I’m a girl with a dream. With your help, I can achieve it. Now I’ll be honest: I hate the cold. I left Vermont the second I had the chance and ran off to Atlanta for 10 balmy years before moving to sub-Saharan Africa. But I want to ride a bike on seven continents, so...

My most relevant food service experience is from 13 years ago. Please don’t ask for references; they were either fronts for laundering drug money or I got fired for not yelling loud enough. But I promise I’ll work hard at your organization (even though secretly I’m planning to fake an injury to get kicked off the ice as soon as I’ve ridden a bike there).

Thank you for your time. I look forward to receiving my acceptance letter.
Brooke “Slim Rims” Marshall

Rejection is useful. It forces you to look honestly at your motivations. Do you want this thing enough to give it a second try? But also, how’s that saying go — insanity is trying the same thing and expecting different results? Clearly, I admitted to myself, I wasn’t what they were looking for. So I carefully studied the job description and then methodically made myself into exactly what they were looking for. There was a nine-month stint as a waitress and five months as a housekeeper in rural Alaska, flurries of cheerful follow-up emails, and, of course, a complete overhaul of my cover letter:

January 2, 2017

To Whom It May Concern:
Food is what brings people together and creates a sense of home in a harsh environment. I would be thrilled at the opportunity to contribute my hardworking spirit in a team setting to support scientific endeavors in Antarctica…

The moment when I realized I should probably be taking pictures of my globetrotting bicycle adventures.

My first bike ride in Antarctica was on one of these mountain bikes that haunt the station like the ghosts of wild horses. Their chains are all rusty and their tires are perpetually flat. I don’t know who’s riding them — me I guess? But like, just barely. I found one buried in a snowbank, so I freed it and took a selfie while half-pedaling it through an alleyway. I had ridden a bike in Antarctica. Now I could fake that injury and go home.

Just kidding — I’ve done four seasons, and it would’ve been five in a row if Covid restrictions hadn’t reduced the station population by 75 percent. Turns out it’s a seasonal worker’s life for me. Everyone down there is more accomplished than I am — it’s great! The other lunch ladies were professional skydivers, wildland firefighters, sea kayak guides, and certified divers who’d swum with sharks. There were two other Returned Peace Corps Volunteers in the kitchen alone.

Sure, there are sacrifices. It’s cold. In the summer the sun never sets, which plays hell with your circadian rhythm. You can’t go home for Christmas. But the pros outweigh the cons by a long shot. There’s a strong sense of camaraderie, and your coworkers are like family. Since you don’t have to pay for rent or food, you can shove all your paychecks into your savings account and then take a vacation for a month or six. And since the closest airport to McMurdo is Christchurch, you get a free trip to New Zealand.