As grand as my Indonesian experience was I knew it was time for me to move on. I must admit that the case of malaria that I willingly subjected myself to was taking a toll. I am completely bald, covered in lesions, and dysentery controls my being.
Perplexed by my move to Antarctica, I attempt to take it in stride. The two of us (my Shaman and I) traveled by raft to the tiny island of South Georgia where DBD board member, Shackleton spend a good deal of time. From South Georgia Island we caught the current south into the Weddell Sea. We docked at the aforementioned, Shackleton base camp, from there it was overland by foot to a tiny outcropping by the sea, somewhere in Queen Maude Land.
As I write this I continue to grapple with the question of how training here will aid me in my cycling endeavors, nevertheless, I press on. In a rare twist, I am afforded a luxury, a SCUBA suit! Presumably this is to protect me from sea creatures that may be interested in feeding upon my open lesions (Indonesia). This "suit" was air dropped to me upon my arrival to the coast. It was a welcomed change as my loin cloth had become a bit, as they say, RANK!
My training here consists of being lowered into this hole where I am forced to hold my breath for 30 minute intervals. My Shaman whips me viciously if I am forced to "jerk the rope" as a signal to pull me up before the appropriate time has passed. I take the whippings as they are offered. I know it is for the best.
I'll be home soon...
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