In case you were wondering, the coldest recorded temperature on Earth was minus 135.8 degrees Fahrenheit, or minus 93.2 degrees Celsius for the metric folk among us. No, this was not in Hanover, though that may be hard to believe given our current state of affairs. It was on the East Antarctic Plateau on Aug. 10, 2010, which is the middle of winter down there in the Southern Hemisphere.
As we are in the throws of January, other cold adventures often spring to mind as I don my hideous knee-length brown North Face parka and trek to the Life Sciences Center. On these long expeditions, when I barely make it past Novack and feel like I can’t make it any further, it helps to imagine myself as Sir Robert Peary reaching the North Pole or Edmund Hillary ascending Mount Everest.
Speaking of Everest, did you know that 80 percent of fatalities that take place on the mountain occur on the way down? Logically, this makes perfect sense — on the trek back, you’re tired, it’s getting dark, it’s cold and oh yeah, you’ve probably run out of most of your oxygen since you’re 29,000 feet above sea level. This means you’ll need supplemental oxygen to stop your brain from building up fluid and exploding inside your head.
So be skeptical whenever someone says, “It’s all downhill from here.” What they really mean is that you may have achieved your highest goals, but there’s still a pretty good chance that you’re going to slip, fall into a crevasse and die anyway. The more I learn about Everest, the less inclined I am to climb it. This is partially due to the discovery of the brain-exploding thing (or high-altitude cerebral edema, if you want to get technical). But the other problem I have with Everest is that it’s not particularly adventurous anymore. Sure, it takes, like, a month, and you spend most of it cold and unable breathe very well, but there are ladders and fixed ropes and Sherpas who help carry your stuff and make sure you don’t fall into that crevasse on the way down.
After watching countless Netflix documentaries on these climbs, I have realized that I will never be as badass as Sherpas, who are the first ones to climb the mountain in the spring and the ones who climb up again to save those idiots who get stuck. They should be celebrated way more than Edmund Hillary. But I have not spent my life at extremely high altitudes and lack the genes that would make me less susceptible to altitude sickness.
Luckily for me, Dartmouth is not like climbing Everest, and if it seems to you like it is, then I think you’re doing something wrong. Dartmouth is not some slow, hypoxic trudge. It is cold, but most of the time I do not fear brain explosions.
We have left the less intense first week of term behind, which means that there are actual papers and problem sets to do. As usual, I am behind in my reading, but that is because I am waiting for my textbook to get here. Most of my books are currently on reserve at Dana, which is too far a trip to attempt because I really don’t want to slip and break something important. I would gladly trade in-depth knowledge of the electron transport chain for four functioning limbs.
Despite the hubbub, rush has and will consume precious hours but this is winter, so things should be chiller (no pun intended). While it seems too early to think of midterms, I just checked my syllabus and have one next week. But after that, things should calm down again. Maybe I will go skating on Occom Pond for the first time and finally complete the Polar Bear Swim when Winter Carnival rolls around.
When choosing your expeditions, think outside the box. Everest is unoriginal. Aspire to be the first one on Mars or the first one to develop a cost-effective solar panel. Or just get an A in Chem 5 and go to the gym three days a week. You don’t have to risk death to go on a good adventure -— though when it gets really icy, going to the gym could actually threaten your life.
On further thought, I think my ideal expedition would be the Ancestor’s Trail. I first discovered this walk’s existence when perusing an issue of Smithsonian Magazine, which my family subscribes to only because I interned there last summer and my mom is supportive. The walk is meant to simulate the evolution of humans from single-celled life. Along the way, you encounter different groups of hikers meant to represent the appearance of chimps, dinosaurs and the labyrinthodont, everyone’s favorite common ancestor of land-dwelling vertebrate.
The trek is not hard. You walk 14 miles (or 22.5 km, since it’s in England) from Kingston Saint Mary, which is in the southwestern not-quite-Cornwall part of England, to the coast. The path is pretty much flat — you only gain 1,000 feet total. Maybe I’ll go this August, if I continue to be unemployed. Unlike Antarctica, I hear England is nice that time of year.
