Embedded Files
ARTofMELT - Warm air bringing cloud-seeding particles to the Arctic
Hej hej, here we come, Arctic Ocean. | 9 May 2023
And away we go! First timer in the Arctic wonderland of Svalbard, the pint-sized island nation of Norway, embarking on a tiny boat to eventually board the grand dame herself, the Oden. She's a colossal Swedish ice-crushing machine that I'll be calling home for the next 7 weeks, all in the name of some seriously chilly science. Joining forces with around 40 other science enthusiasts from every corner of the globe, we're on a mission to unravel the mysteries of how sea ice melts as we transition from winter to the summer meltdown.
As we sail into this icy expedition, it's not just the sea ice doing a makeover—bacteria and algae in the water are having their own little party. These tiny critters release all sorts of goodies into the air that can impact things like clouds. What an adventure microbes that hail from the Arctic ocean and the sea ice have!
I'd love to regale you with more tales, but time is of the essence. I've got a jam-packed journey ahead, racing against the clock to get my scientific instruments up and running before we dive headfirst into the frosty unknown up north. Just one short week until we're setting foot on the sea ice, measuring cool things (literally, ha) and unleashing our inner Arctic scientists.
Keep your eyes peeled for more updates from the Arctic Ocean—this scientific circus is just getting started. Bon voyage, my friends!
Seriously happy to be back on a boat. In the Arctic. This time in 24 hours of daylight compared to last time where I was in 24 hours of darkness. YAYYY!
Snowy Svalbard. We got to roam around the tiny Arctic village of Longyearbyen before setting sail north.
Getting suited up to get on the small shuttle boat to get us on board Oden. Longyearbyen does not have a port big enough for Oden, so she had to sit out in the fjord, awaiting our arrival.
Coring on a big hunka chunka ice. | 23 May 2023
So, yes, true. I am an atmospheric scientist and yes, that means I'm all about studying the cool stuff in the air. But, here's the plot twist – I dabble in other disciplines. Why you ask? Well, for one, it is really fun and I am an adventure junkie. But two, everything is connected. What happens in the ocean and ice doesn't stay in the ocean and ice. Those pseudo-Vegas philosophy-goers of the microbial world like to wake up as the Arctic sun comes out, signaling that summer is just around the corner.
To tell the tale of their microbial journey from sleeping in tiny channels in the sea ice, to the water the ice melts into, to the air means we have to collect samples of all of those things. We're talking measuring the special properties in the ice, water, and air to connect the dots, so we can trace where the specks of material in the air came from and how they can fly far up to where they can become cloud-seeding superheroes. Because some of these specks (called "aerosols") have unique features that allow them to help clouds form.
What does this all mean? We went on a treasure hunt, collecting precious Arctic sea ice cores using an auger head and a drill barrel to pull up cores of shimmery sea ice. Sometimes, these are only a foot long, but sometimes, they are twice the height of my humble 5'5" self. We chop the cores into little segments, saving those samples for a party of measurements to spill the beans on what's hiding in the ice, like our microscopic friends, the bacteria and algae.
I also took the opportunity to put my GoPro to work, tying some paracord to it and dipping it through the hole left by the ice corer into the ocean. Brace yourself – the bottom of the sea ice is a mind-blowing universe that feels galaxies away, but is actually just a few feet beneath our, well, feet. I've even started calling these videos episodes of "Under the Ice." Coming soon to a theater near you (just kidding, but seriously, check out the video below for a sneak peek)!
The first episode of "Under the Ice". WARNING: You might need to close your eyes at the end if you get dizzy easily...
Ice coring is hard work. I only went to the gym on Oden a handful of times because my daily workout instead was managing the machinery to core sea ice. Think of it as kind of like operating a soil auger. But in ice on up to 10 feet thick and floating over a 13,000-foot-deep ocean. Needless to say, I felt pretty BA...
A team of us ice science goers collected 20-30 ice cores one day, meaning we were out on the ice for many hours coring, taking photos and measuring the length of the cores, taking temperature readings in the cores, and bagging our ice samples to transfer back to the ship. Oh, and sometimes there was music and dancing. And hot chocolate.
Behold, the infamous ice core. Here is kind of what they look like. Cold. Icy. Chock full of microscopic good stuff naked to the human eye.
Pea soup and pancakes. That's what Sweden does. | 25 May 2023
It's Thursday on the Oden. Do you know what that means? I'd totally toss a million Swedish Krona your way if you could guess (hold your horses, that's just around $1000, don't spend it all at once). Brace yourself for the big reveal – it's PEA SOUP AND PANCAKE DAY! Yes, tradition on the Oden is that every Thursday, the culinary wizards in the Oden kitchen whip up some warm pea soup and Swedish pancakes. Complete with all kinds of yummy Scandinavian toppings. A mealtime masterpiece to warm our souls after a day of conquering the chilly Arctic.
Now, I won't bore you with an entire blog about pea soup and pancakes (as tempting as that sounds), but I will spill the beans on what life is like living, sleeping, eating, and breathing on an icebreaker in the middle of the Arctic Ocean. First off, let's talk food. Holy smokes, the Oden Swedes have mastered the art of feeding us ravenous researchers. Although I did bravely attempt pickled herring... let's just say it did not end up in my belly.
When we're not adventuring on the ice, geeking out in the labs, or devouring delightful meals, we're having fika – the essentially mandatory Swedish coffee break. Once in the late morning, once in the mid-afternoon, it involves coffee or tea, sweets, and banter with your shipmates. Fun fact: we even had fika on the ice, but hold onto your reindeer hats, that's a story for a later blog about helicopter adventures with Sven the pilot.
But wait, there's more to life on the Oden than just work, eat, and drink. Two words: games and sauna. Dominion battles to wrap up the day – because nothing says "good day" like a little healthy board game rivalry. And sauna, the Swedish religion... I mean, tradition. I practically lived in that sauna, a daily ritual that did wonders for my mind, body, and soul. Picture this: from the freezing Arctic air to the Swedish sauna – a whopping 160-degree Celsius difference!
Beyond fika, games, and sauna shenanigans, our non-science-ing time was filled with dance classes, yoga, soaking up the sun on deck, attempting headstands on ice (hey, it's harder than it looks), and the mother of all ping pong tournaments – more competitive than a polar bear in a fishing contest.
Adding helicopter as an Uber alternative. | 5 June 2023
Remember those helicopter seed pods from childhood that you'd toss in the air, only to watch them spin gloriously to the ground? Yeah, that's as close as I got to a helicopter...UNTIL NOW! Your humble blogger has officially become a frequent flyer, clocking in a whopping 6 helicopter rides. Move over, aviation elite, Jessie's in town.
Now you might be asking, "Jessie, why the hekken are you hitching rides on helicopters in the Arctic? Well, my dear readers, it's not for the in-flight snacks, that's for sure. It's all about getting to the other side of the sea ice! I know, cheesy, but hey, I've got to keep the humor churning. Har har har.
Anywho, while the Oden was moored to a massive ole ice floe (fancy science term for big ice island) and we could easily scamper onto the ice on foot, that just wasn't cutting it for me. I wanted more. I wanted to sample the air, water, ice, and snow in various locations, with ice thick and thin, and gaping cracks in the ice called sea ice leads, where the open ocean does a little peekaboo to the sky above. This, my frosty friends, is where the real magic happens. It's the spot where microbes in the ocean take a wild ride on the waves, catapulting into the air like Arctic confetti.
So, what's a day at the helicopter ice station like, you wonder? Picture this: a long, hard, but thrilling day. The night before, us head scientists huddle up to plan the next day's escapades. My contribution? Giddily requesting some remote ice work. After a night of dreaming about that chop, chop, chop of helicopter rotors, I wake up, cross my fingers for a weather thumbs up from the captain of Oden during the morning briefing, and then it's game on for my helicopter missions.
First, we lug a ton of heavy gear and scientific equipment from the ship's labs to the helicopter deck. Then, with the help of the fabulous Oden crew and the chopper's pilot extraordinaire, Sven, we load up the cargo storage. Fun fact: Sven is the heli-owner on Oden and has been flying for over 30 years. Retired but not tired, he's a not-so-secret fellow adventure junkie who gets a kick out of chauffeuring us scientists around the Arctic.
Next, we're airborne! Parkas on, boots strapped, and headsets donned because, folks, we're off to find the perfect sample locale. I dream big; Sven grounds me with reality. Too many ice chunks around mean polar bear hide-and-seek or, on the flip side, ice so thin you hear a KERPLUNK, and we're swimming with the fishes – literally. Finally, we find the sweet spot – ideal for science and safety. Sven is thrilled. Jessie is ecstatic.
Now, the real fun begins. Unloading the chopper, setting up the air sampling station, ice coring like pros, harnessing up for seawater samples from the ice edge, and digging pits of snow for measurements and sampling. Fast forward 5-6 hours, and we're packing up our gear and happy little samples, zooming back to Oden just in time for dinner.
I like to believe Sven and I became buddies. He spun fantastic tales while on polar bear guard duty, shared his homemade reindeer jerky, and even set up fika for us on the ice, complete with a makeshift wind shelter. We share some laughs, watched some seals pop up from the water, curious about what we were doing, and had a blast out there. Who knew helicopters could be this much fun?
Count it... THIRTY. ONE. POLAR BEARS. | 9 June 2023
Do I even need to write anything about this one?! The title and pics say it all! Fine, fine, I'll spill the chilly beans. It's the grand finale of the expedition, and we're gearing up to bid adieu to the Arctic. Now, I decided to hold off on talking about polar bears until we saw how many would make a cameo. Previous expeditions had me guessing maybe 1, 2, or 3? Well, brace yourselves – we hit the jackpot with a whopping 31! Big bois, mammas, and cute little baby bears.
Now, most of the time, our polar bear pals made grand appearances while we were safely chilling on the ship. But every now and then, they decided to spice up our ice escapades. In those cases, our guardians with fancy binoculars on Oden's bridge went into full-on polar bear detective mode. Cue the evacuation alarms, people! We weren't risking a polar bear ice party. Some of the bears got close to the ship deck or played with equipment and flags on the ice. A couple of ship horn toots or a chopper loop-de-loop, and boom, they were outta there. No polar bear trouble on our watch. While they were a fascinating to watch, we weren't trying to make them our new BFFs. So, as much as we loved their company, we didn't want them getting too cozy with us hoomans. Alright, alright, I will stop there. Check out the footage below – between the 60-odd scientists and crew, we probably have enough polar bear pics to fill an Arctic-sized photo album.
And on that note, I'm signing off. What better way to close the curtain than with a polar bear extravaganza? Until next time, my beloved Arctic enthusiasts. Stay frosty, my friends!
MOSAiC - Evaluating central Arctic aerosols that seed clouds
Winter hats, yoga mats, and a parka: The Arctic geat junkie sets sail for the north pole | 23 September 2019
Four months. Frozen on a German ship in the sea ice (yes, on purpose). In complete darkness. At temperatures reaching minus 50 degrees Celsius. So, what am I researching during this expedition? What do I pack, one might ask? More importantly, why in the world would I want to do this?!
By the time this will have posted, I will have embarked on one of the most epic arctic research expeditions to date, sailing north, where the German icebreaker called Polarstern (a big ship that can plow though thick sea ice) will be frozen in the sea ice for over a year.
As for the question of what am I researching? I am a funded principal investigator through DOE ARM and the Atmospheric System Research (ASR) program to measure what are called ice-nucleating particles, which are tiny aerosols that originate from things like microorganisms in the seawater and sea ice that help with cloud formation. Arctic clouds are crucial because they essentially act like mirrors and thermostats of the atmosphere, controlling the amount of sunlight that gets reflected to space and the amount of heat that is trapped in the atmosphere. These radiative effects impact the sea ice extent, rain and snow, and weather and climate … not only in the Arctic, but also weather and climate globally.
The mentality on board is very team-oriented. We all want to work together to get the samples and measurements we need, not just for the scientists on board, but for others in the community and beyond to have the chance to work with arguably one of the most elaborate and holistic data sets from a single field expedition EVER. I will be helping with the extensive task list of the ecology team, whereby I will be busy day in and day out, helping with ice coring, snow pit sampling, seawater sampling, and then preparing those samples for preservation and analyzing some of those samples on board for gases that come from the microbiome. I also have some samplers that essentially act like vacuum cleaners, sucking in particles from the air for us to measure ice-nucleating particles and microbes back in Colorado after the study segments. Last, I have a portable aerosol sampler I built to bring onto the ice to measure and collect aerosols near features in the ice such as melt ponds and leads (big cracks that appear in the ice).
There are two huge icebreakers heading up north currently, the Polarstern and a Russian icebreaker called the Akademik Fedorov. We need more researchers and crew than the Polarstern can fit to set up the scientific equipment on the main observatory and in the expansive network of stations that will be taking measurements directly on the sea ice. We also have several media personnel to report the fascinating activities happening on both vessels.
I am currently on the Fedorov and will help set up the network of sea ice stations once we start to get frozen in. Then, I will move over to the Polarstern, which I will call home until mid-December.
So, back to those last two burning questions I am sure you have in your head while reading this blog post …
What do I pack? As you can see from the photo below, I have everything from my parka, a yoga mat, snacks, green superfood powder, batteries, micro spikes, heavy-duty arctic boots, several tubes of toothpaste, duct tape, sample bags, paracord, goggles, heavy-duty gloves … and much, much more. I have to bring duplicates of things like gloves, buffs, and layers in case I get sweaty or wet while working on the ice. No one wants to get hypothermia in the middle of the remote central Arctic! This layout is only part of what I had to bring for the expedition. I have 24 boxes of cargo currently on the Polarstern for sampling aerosols, sea ice, seawater, and snow.
OK, last question … why the heck would I do this?! Honestly, I am more excited than I have ever been when going into the field. MOSAiC is a HUGE opportunity to engage in true system science, to live, breathe, sleep, and collaborate with scientists from all over the world and from very different disciplines, all of us wanting to address the one central unknown about arctic climate and how and why it is drastically changing. I am honored to be a part of such an incredible opportunity and to be exposed to living in a bizarrely beautiful place only few in the world are able to step foot in.
Well, I must get to work preparing for the expedition as we sail north. Stay tuned for more posts in the upcoming months! Bon voyage for now!
Originally posted by DOE ARM Research Facility here.
Listen as I discuss the campaign, my science, and how other researchers can benefit from ARM data collected during this yearlong expedition.
The Polarstern in port in Tromsø, Norway, awaiting its farewell from land for over a year.
I am a millennial, so a selfie in front of the containers housing numerous atmospheric instruments at the bow, super excited to soon leave on one of the most incredible arctic expeditions in history.
Laying out all the items I could possibly need for four months at sea, including clothing, my parka, equipment, snacks, and a yoga mat. My dogs Montana and Whiskey, the most adorable golden retrievers on the face of the planet, are unfortunately not included.
Breaking bad (ice) | 1 October 2019
Ah, the beautiful, brilliant aqua blue of pristine crystals. And no, I am not referring to the color of something a certain chemist makes from a certain hit TV series based in Albuquerque … I am referring to one of the most vibrant blues I have ever set eyes on, originating from multiyear sea ice in the vast waters of the Arctic Ocean.
We have been underway after officially leaving Norway for MOSAiC over a week ago. We started at about 79 degrees north in port and are now in the sea ice at just over 85 degrees north—the High Arctic. It is currently minus 5 degrees Celsius (23 degrees Fahrenheit) outside … a bit chilly, eh? Don’t worry, it will only get colder from here.
I am on the impressive Akademik Fedorov, a Russian icebreaker that has been steaming at speeds up to 16 knots. In the recent couple of days, it has plowed through ice at high latitudes, with the mission to find the ice floe area in which we will set up the MOSAiC central observatory and distributed network. We steamed past the Polarstern, but it is hot on our trail, and we will soon rendezvous for refueling and exchange of personnel and equipment in preparation for the official start of the expedition measurements. I will be moving over to the Polarstern in the upcoming weeks for the start of the measurements and reside there for the next several months.
Life is busy on the transit up north. And I can tell you, most of us are thrown off by the day and time, due to the odd lighting (the sun rising just after 3 a.m.) and constant time changes (because we are so far north and were sailing east for several days, we have gone through five time changes … talk about spring ahead, but in the fall!).
Several scientists are preparing equipment, including buoys and equipment on sleds, to deploy to what is called the distributed network. This network will consist of numerous stations out to about 50 kilometers (31 miles) from the Polarstern, with the intention to take continuous measurements of atmospheric, seawater, and sea ice properties over the next year. Once we reach the location where the network will be installed, it will take all hands on deck, as seafarers say—meaning the hands of almost all 60 scientists and students on the Akademik Fedorov in this case—to move and set up the equipment on the ice.
As for me? I have been working on several things, including preparing my portable sampler that will measure aerosol concentrations and ice-nucleating properties near leads and melt ponds, directly on the sea ice. There are essentially no measurements of ice-nucleating aerosols near leads and melt ponds. I intend to find out if these open water sources in the High Arctic are a source of cloud seeds from algae that grow in and below the ice.
However, life at sea is not all work. We have had many exciting activities thus far, including the helicopter transfer of scientists from the Polarstern to our vessel for planning meetings and lectures for the students on board, several polar bear sightings, time in the sauna, birthday celebrations, addictive evening card games, and bioluminescence.
Some of you might be asking, “What the heck is bioluminescence?” It is a cellular chemical reaction from marine organisms like zooplankton, crustaceans, or jellyfish that produces a fluorescent light in response to mechanical stress from waves, larger animals, or even ships, or to ward off larger predators. These worried little critters can produce a vibrant flash of light, and sometimes in large populations over large distances. We observed this phenomenon three nights in a row before hitting the ice edge. I gave a presentation crash course on bioluminescence during our daily group meeting, in which I started a shipwide survey on what organism we think is responsible for the brilliant flashes of light. Based on scientific process of elimination and consultation with experts off the ship, the organism responsible is …
… Are you kidding? I am not telling you yet! Perhaps you will have to wait to find out like the rest of the researchers on board, in a subsequent post … : )
Again, blue … glowing bioluminescent blue … near the frosty aqua blue of old sea ice … in the deep, dark blue waters of the Arctic Ocean. What can I say? As a trained chemist like the fictional Heisenberg, I live for the pristine blue exposed from broken crystals, just on a much larger scale.
Originally posted by DOE ARM Research Facility here.
The bow of the Akademik Fedorov as we sail north in the High Arctic. After days of persistent arctic mixed-phase clouds, we experienced a break and observed the beautiful arctic skies. We are taking advantage of the faint light we have before experiencing complete darkness for months after the start of the polar night.
Scientists from the Polarstern ready to head back to their vessel via the German BK-117 helicopter sitting on the Akademik Fedorov’s helo deck. The Russian MI-8 helicopter hovers in the background, awaiting its landing at its home base.
Before hitting the ice zone, we saw bioluminescence in the water from the propeller behind the vessel. It is caused from small marine organisms that produce a light when disturbed in their habitat, either by agitation or to ward off predators. Beautiful sparks of glowing blue light up the cold surface waters, almost like watching a meteor shower in the Arctic Ocean. Photo is courtesy of Mario Hoppman of the Alfred Wegener Institute.
Yes, I must finish with a millennial-style parka selfie above the bridge in front of my first encounter with thick sea ice, at the highest latitude I have ever set foot in. Until next time!
Moving over to the 'dark site' of the MOSAiC floe | 1 December 2019
Surrounded by the darkness and ice … one would think I encountered Darth Vader on Hoth. But nope, I am currently at 86 degrees north latitude on a massive chunk of ice floating around the Arctic Circle.
It has been about a month and a half since I have had the chance to write a blog. Life has been bustling on the Polarstern, with a wide range of scientific measurements taking place from 4,400 meters (about 14,400 feet) below the sea ice (15 meters, or almost 50 feet, above the sea floor) to the top of the troposphere. Since I have relocated from the Akademik Fedorov to the Polarstern, MOSAiC is in full swing.
First and foremost … polar bears. A little cuter than wampas and probably not as stinky as banthas (I really hope most of you reading this are “Star Wars” fans). I had an interview on “BBC Breakfast”—it’s like “Good Morning America” in the U.K.—before leaving port from Norway, and polar bears were the topic of conversation. We have had a few curious bears encountering our central observatory and “play” with scientific sensors at some of our remote sites. Luckily, no bad encounters, and everyone (including the bears!) have remained safe.
Another challenge of working in the Arctic: cracks in the ice. When I first arrived at the ice floe that is now what I am calling home, there were a number of large cracks that had formed, including one right near a site called Met City. These cracks have been about a meter wide and, at times, spread for several tens of kilometers long. I was able to deploy my portable aerosol sampler, named C3PO, in hopes of measuring aerosols that help form clouds and that originate from these cracks. Luckily, C3PO operated successfully at temperatures well below zero!
Recently, we had a lead—a very, very large crack—open up near the vessel during a particularly windy storm event, so hopefully my aerosol sampler on board in the DOE ARM container is measuring particles that come from the sea spray. My first week here, I also helped set up an automated trap connected to a buoy that will collect sediment deep in the ocean for the next year. This was done out at what we call our “dark site,” which is a location over 1 kilometer (0.6 mile) from the Polarstern where we core for ice. When I say it, it immediately makes me think of “Star Wars” (ahem, the dark side). There was an incredible effort for setting up on the ice—the met towers, the buoys, the ice sensors, the huts that house a wide array of instruments … you name it, it is out there.
Speaking of ice, I am a part of the 12-person ice coring crew that goes out every Monday to collect almost 60 ice cores from ice that had just formed this year (about a half-meter thick, or 1.6 feet) to ice from last year with ice from this year formed on top of it (almost 1 meter thick, or about 3 feet). Every coring day, we set up a tent, and each of us has a special job to minimize our time out in the bitter cold, although collecting, cutting, and bagging all the cores still takes us five to six hours.
The job is not done after we come in from the ice. The different teams, including my ecology (ECO) team, the biogeochemical team, and sea ice team, take their set of cores and process them. For the ECO team, that means melting over 40 different segments of ice cores to then separate the ice melt into almost 100 bottles for different types of filtering and sampling … all while in a cold room and using only red headlights (like, lightsaber-colored red) so as not to disturb the microbiology, since microbes can be stimulated by bright white light. I am the “ice boss,” meaning I am in charge of determining what core segment goes where and is parsed for which analyses. The results? We hope to have a comprehensive set of biological, chemical, and physical measurements in the vertical profile of the ice, including the particles I study, called ice-nucleating particles, which are essentially seeds for cloud ice formation. The whole ice core process takes three long days.
We also look at different parameters in the ocean water column using a large instrument called a CTD rosette (CTD stands for conductivity, temperature, and depth). This crucial piece of equipment houses numerous sensors and 24 bottles that open at different depths of the ocean, collecting 12 liters (3.2 gallons) of seawater samples at desired depths. It takes a large team of ship crew and scientists for a successful CTD cast.
After the CTD takes a dive in the ocean through a large hole in the ice, and after we partake in our synchronized sampling dance around the rosette, I take some of the samples I collect and analyze them on instruments that tell us how much methane and oxygen are in the seawater for some of my colleagues back in the U.S. This information is important because it gives insight into how the microbes process such gases and how those gases might exchange with the atmosphere.
So why do I give a hoot about all these kinds of samples and data for my aerosol-cloud research? Well, in order to measure aerosols in the air and to model how they might affect clouds in the future, we need to understand where they come from. My theory is that a lot of the aerosols we see in the Arctic come from the biology in the snow, ice, and ocean. In order to prove that, I link what I see in my aerosol samples to the samples I collect from ice cores, CTDs, and snow pits, and use supporting biological and chemical data to tell the story of what kinds of microbes were present and what exactly they were doing.
Well, back to the sample analysis and preparation for the next coring day at the dark site in my cozy, warm lab. More like Tatooine in here than the Hoth that exists outside … until next time!
Originally posted by DOE ARM Research Facility here.
Typically what I look like after a day outside coring for ice. This day was particularly cold … almost minus 45 degrees Celsius (minus 49 degrees Fahrenheit) with the wind chill. It can be so cold that your breath instantly turns to ice on your face.
My portable aerosol sampler—appropriately named C3PO—deployed near a crack in the ice at Met City (top left). The Ocean City hut in front of the Polarstern during a blustery day (top right). A crack that developed near our ice coring dark sites (bottom left). My ecology team setting up a sediment trap attached to a buoy near our dark site (bottom right).
Monday ice coring days. Our team of 12 (including two professional bear guards) heads out on four snow machines and sleds full of coring equipment to the dark site. That spiral tube pictured is the core barrel that we hook up to drills to obtain the ice cores. We set up a tent to measure, record, cut up, and bag almost 60 ice cores to bring back to the ship. We have to use red headlamps so as not to stimulate the microbes in the ice.
A polar bear momma and her cub that hung out near the Akademik Fedorov and Polarstern for a couple of days. Since then, they have probably moved on to their travels around the central Arctic.
INPOP - Exploring Arctic clouds formed by aerosol particles
En route to Prudhoe Bay | 27 April 2017
My short, overnight in Anchorage was a blast. I visited a local art store, ate some chowder and drank a cask IPA at a local brew house, and basked in the beginnings of the Iditarod celebrations at my hotel — the race starts this Saturday.
Too bad I will miss it, as I have made my way to Prudhoe Bay. I flew up with Fred Helsel and Bruce Edwardson, both Arctic logistics gurus from Sandia National Lab here to help me get set up and going. Our first stops after landing at the Deadhorse Airport were to pick up my equipment and run to the only hardware store in hundreds of miles. Naturally, I picked up some souvenirs from the store.
After an hour and a half drive to our destination, I settled in to the camp I am staying at, which by the way, is incredible! A gym, fully stocked mess hall (complete with a 24/7 pastry display), game room, and even a sauna. We even had steak night already. This is Arctic bourgeois living!
Next, I went through a series of safety briefings, including a 40 minute video on polar bear safety. We were able to start setting up the equipment at the site before calling it a night.
Originally posted by University of Colorado, Boulder here.
It’s gettin’ windy out there… | 2 March 2017
Whoo hoo! I am set up and in operation. It took a couple days to work out a few kinks and get everything installed securely. Fred and Bruce helped ensure that our equipment is set up for the almost 50 mph winds and waaaay sub zero temperatures we are expecting. Just to put it in perspective, the site technicians, Dave and Josh, said temperatures reached –73 degrees Fahrenheit with the wind chill the morning we arrived. YIKES.
Today, it took 1.5 hours to get into the site, a normally-10-minute drive. We had to essentially follow a bulldozer in to prevent getting stuck in the snow drifts rapidly forming on the one road to the site. One we were in, I worked quickly as we had to leave after about 30 minutes to prevent getting stuck at the site. We are back at the camp now. The samplers are working hard while I am at work at camp, nice and toasty in my bed 🙂 Winds are expected to reach 48 mph tonight and into tomorrow!
Funny, a beautiful blue bird day on Feb 28, and now a howling white out on Mar 2. #Arcticresearchlife
Originally posted by University of Colorado, Boulder here.
CHEESEBURGER NIGHT!! | 5 March 2017
What a crazy last couple of days. The winds were so strong and visibility was so poor that we could not access the site for a day and a half. We had a power outage early this morning, so diligently tried to get into the site since the winds had subsided. It took almost 3 hours to plow the road to the site because of all the snow that had drifted over the last couple of days.
Once we got to the site, it was quite cold. Since the power had been out for about 9 hours, the heat was not pumping in the facility. I quickly assessed the samplers and fixed them once the power had turned back on. I also had to fix one of the inlets to the sampler because it was packed full of snow. It only took me about 3 hours to get everything up and running correctly again!
Even though there were issues with the power outage, everything worked out and it turned out to be a beautiful Arctic day. The temperature reached up to 0 degrees Fahrenheit and there were almost no winds, what a treat! I took the opportunity to take some photos of the site, and with “Harold” at the entrance of the camp 🙂 To top it off, it was cheeseburger night at the mess hall, YUM!!
Originally posted by University of Colorado, Boulder here.
Power on? Check. Balloon launch? Check. Tuna for dinner? Check. | 11 March 2017
What a crazy last few days! We had quite a blow come though and there were issues at the site leading to a power outage. We have had winds leading to white outs and then calm days with above zero temperatures. We consider those days a heat wave up here. 😉
With the recent power outages, I was able to check out how my samplers were doing. Looks like I was able to collect a bunch of particles before the outage. Aerosol particles get sucked into the sampler with a powerful vacuum pump. Once they enter the sampler, they impact on the surfaces of these discs that rotate slowly over time. The way the particles stick to the discs is I spray them with a solution that dries and becomes sticky. That way, the aerosols stick to the surface instead of bounce off the disc, otherwise I would not have any samples!
Today, the site technicians let me launch one of their routine weather balloons, pretty cool! Luckily, power is back on and my samplers are up and running, working hard at collecting aerosols. Even with all these challenges, it is exciting to research in the Arctic.
Originally posted by University of Colorado, Boulder here.
Until next time, Oliktok. | 15 March 2017
Well, it is the end of my journey to the Arctic. I Everything has been running smoothly the last few days. The weather went from 20 above to 40 below, I observed beautiful sunsets and sunrises, I saw the Aurora, built an Arctic snowman, drove a mini snow cat, and ate the last of my favorite dessert at the camp, CUPCAKES!
My samplers will be running until the end of May. After that, I have my work cut out for me in the lab this summer to analyze all the samples that they collected over a 3-month time period. The goal is to measure how many of those collected aerosols would be effective at serving as “seeds” for cloud ice crystals to grow on. Aerosols, in general, act like seeds for cloud droplets and ice crystals. Overall, the objective of INPOP is to understand where these aerosols come from and how they could impact the climate properties of Arctic clouds. Arctic clouds are very important; they help control the sun’s energy reaching the sea ice, meaning they play a role in the growth and melting of sea ice. Changes in sea ice not only impact the weather and climate in the Arctic, but also affect weather and climate patterns worldwide through VERY large circulation pathways of air. We know very little about how aerosols indirectly impact sea ice. Hopefully the results from INPOP will shed some light on this process!
Originally posted by University of Colorado, Boulder here.
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