Ever felt like doing something a little bit adventurous? Then Felicity Aston’s the woman for you. A freelance writer and adventurer, the 34-year-old has spent the last ten years seeking out irresistible challenges and captivating stories in some of the planet’s wildest and most extraordinary places.
This year she became the first woman in the world to ski across Antarctica alone and we couldn’t wait to hear all about it.
Felicity, who previously worked as a researcher in Antarctica, pulled two sledges for 59 days across 1744km of ice and snow to set that record, making it to Hercules Inlet on Antarctica’s Ronne Ice Shelf on January 22.
Her journey had taken her from the Ross Ice Shelf, up the Leverett Glacier and across the Transantarctic mountains to the continent’s vast central plateau, where she had to fight headwinds most of the way to the South Pole in temperatures of -30C.
A primed adventurer, Felicity had previously been involved in expeditions in Siberia, Greenland and the Arctic and in 2009 she selected and led eight women from countries including Ghana, India and Jamaica and skied with them to the South Pole to mark the 60th anniversary of the Commonwealth.
But her Kaspersky ONE Transantarctic Expedition was a whole other challenge. We caught up with Felicity ahead of her celebratory dinner with sponsors Kaspersky Lab last month to hear all about it.
You got back from your Antarctic expedition just over a month ago - how are you feeling? Have you adjusted back into civilisation?
I didn’t get back to the UK until the beginning of February and it’s really strange how your body has a delayed reaction to things. When I first got back it was all go, go, go and it’s only now, a few weeks later, that I’m waking up feeling a bit stiff and sore and thinking ‘oh goodness’. I’m still starving all the time because my body’s used to having 5000 calories a day, so it’s getting it used to the fact that it can’t eat that much anymore. I lost about 10 kilos during the expedition but I put some extra weight on before I went because I knew it was likely to happen. It’s quite funny when you’re talking to men at base camp because they’re like ‘losing weight is a bad thing’, and I’m thinking, ‘not from a women’s perspective, it’s brilliant!’.
You said there about the physical aspect and how you’re starting to feel the aches and pains, but mentally it must have been a real struggle too? Being isolated for all that time, was it strange coming back and interacting with people again?
It wasn’t that strange, although during the first few days back I did have to remind myself of the rules of social etiquette - whilst on the expedition my face was always covered in snot and dribble and bits of chocolate and it didn’t matter. But now there are other people around I have to make myself look presentable! Going to the loo as well - I was just going to the loo where I stood for two months so there were a couple of times where I had to remind myself that I had to go and find the appropriate facility, I couldn’t just whip down my trousers in the middle of a conversation and have a pee! There were a few little things, but it doesn’t take long to get yourself out of that, so mentally it’s just been really lovely coming home and sharing the experience.
Can you give us an idea of what day to day life was like?
It was a very strict routine because not only did that mean that I didn’t forget anything, it also gave me forward momentum by stopping me from thinking emotionally about things, and made me think more practically. I’d get up at 7:30 in the morning and I would spend about an hour and a half to two hours getting my breakfast ready, getting myself ready for the morning, packing up all my kit and equipment and then I would get out of the tent and pack up the tent, and start skiing. I would ski for about ten hours a day and I would do that in ninety minute bursts so I would usually be finished by about 7:30 in the evening. It would take me about 20 minutes from the time I stopped skiing to the time I was sitting down in my tent, with my bags sorted. I would then make my daily call to the base camp in Antarctica - I’d call them once a day to tell them my position and let them know I was alright, and if they didn’t hear from me the idea was that they would come looking for me, so I had to make sure I made that call on time. I would usually then try and be asleep by about 10:30. People have asked me what I did in the evenings, hanging in a tent by myself, but it wasn’t just kicking back and doing nothing. I had to do my navigation for the next day, I had to check my feet, my hands and my face for any sight of frost bite or blisters or anything going wrong, making sure my kit was ready for the next day. So there was a lot to do and sometimes I would look up and realise it was nearly 11 and I wasn’t asleep yet. I tried to get eight hours sleep every night, which sounds like quite a lot, but when you have to go for that length of time you need your body to recover each evening, so that you can get up the next morning and get back on your skis.
What were the conditions like for you while you were out there?
I’ve spent a lot of time in Antarctica, the first time I went there I was there for three years, and I was there through the winters, so I’ve seen some pretty horrible Antarctica weather, which would last for days and days and days. That’s the thing with Antarctica, bad storms don’t just blow in and blow out, they blow in and then hang around for a while before they disappear. The weather while I was there was worse than I had hoped but it wasn’t unexpectedly bad or anything. I was disappointed that I didn’t get more nice days though, I missed the sun.
How about the danger elements of the expedition?
The fact that you’re so far from help for a start is an element of danger. I had a satellite phone, but if I rang up in a life or death emergency, it’s not like ringing the emergency services here… I couldn’t expect it to be a matter of hours before someone came to help, I had to factor in that it could be days, if not as much as a week. You’re very aware of that as you’re skiing around, it was the day to day business of being out there by myself that was probably the real danger. Also things like when you start to get too cold and you slip into the first stages of hypothermia - I’ve seen it happen to other people on team expeditions and they are the last people to know that something is wrong. What happens if it’s you that is going into hypothermia and you don’t realise, and you start taking off layers when you should be putting more layers on? Crevasses were the thing that made me get sweaty palms at night, as there were several parts of the journey where I knew I was passing close to or through crevasse areas, and when you’re on your own you’re relying on the fact that your call would be missed. When you start thinking about these dangers, no wonder you start to get a bit nervous before you step outside of the tent.
The expedition itself was always going to be incredibly tough, but with each low that you suffered was it balanced by the privilege of being in that environment?
Yeah, even when I was thinking ‘oh this is miserable’ there was always a part of me thinking ‘wow, look at this’. It was just so dramatic and I was very much aware of how few people get to experience that environment and so the privilege of what I was doing was never lost on me, I made time to stop and look around me.
What were some of the stand-out moments from the expedition?
There were moments of huge euphoria, where you would feel invincible at times. You’d be skiing along making really great progress, Antarctica would be looking really beautiful and it did look beautiful, even on the grey, cold, overcast days. On the sunny days, the snow would be sparkling and you would have these beautiful sculptures, that you almost couldn’t believe weren’t man made. Then there were the optics, you’d get rainbow forming circles round the sun called halos. Sometimes it would be inverted rainbows and things like that. It was often small, tiny things that would make my day, the texture of the snow or the reflection of the light, so there were some really superb days as well as the miserable ones.
Were there any particularly low points for you where you thought you might not be able to continue? How did you get through those miserable days you mention?
Every single morning I would open my eyes and the first thought that went through my head was ‘I can’t do this, this has been a terrible mistake’. Every morning I would have to work myself round to get out of the tent, the most important technique I used on myself, apart from a lot of tears, would be to focus on the routine. The routine of cooking my breakfast, getting my kit together, getting myself prepared for the day, and by focusing on the routine and sticking to the routine, that gave me the momentum. I wasn’t thinking emotionally about things, I was thinking practically, about the logistics and that would propel me out the tent. Once I was out of the tent I would be fine, it was just in the mornings getting out of the tent.
Luggage was obviously as minimalistic as possible, but did you have room for any lucky charms or home comforts?
I deliberately didn’t really take anything like that, mainly because weight was so crucial. I started with 85 kilograms, which is like dragging a fully grown adult around behind you. Anything that wasn’t absolutely vital didn’t come with me but having said that my sister did give me a small silver locket with a picture of my family inside and I wore that when I was skiing, so that was my only good luck charm.
Were there any particular home comforts that you missed the most while you were away?
It’s the real paradox of when you’re out in this spectacular environment of Antarctica, all you think about is how wonderful it would be sat at home on your sofa with a glass of wine and a film on the TV to watch, but then as soon as you get home, all you think about is how amazing it would be to be on an adventure in Antarctica! I’m pretty fickle like that. I guess the thing I missed most was a hot shower. Towards the end after having worn the same set of clothes for two months, I just kept thinking ‘I need a new set of clothes’.
You set a couple of records during the expedition - do you think that’s important for the female side of exploration?
Yeah it’s really interesting and there’s lots of discussions going on at the moment. For example in long distance running, and we’re talking about ultra long distances, they start to see a close in the gap in performance between men and women, to the point where they cease, it’s just who came first. It’s an interesting point about women performing in polar environments; they do quite well, particularly when compared to the guys. I think that’s perhaps because it is so much about what goes on in your head, rather than just the size of your muscles. There’s also something about the endurance of women, it’s not something I’m an expert in but I’ve been part of discussions along these lines. When you get to these really long endurance endeavours, there is an argument I think in the difference in performance between men and women isn’t so distinct. There’s the classic experiment where you put a man and a women, naked in the snow, the women would lose her hands and feet first and the man would keel over and die! I think it’s something to do with the fact that women have an extra layer of fat, that the men don’t have.
What’s your motivation? Are you always planning what you’re going to do next?
Usually, yes I am! I have got a list of trips as long as my arm that I want to do, but it’s a case of getting the right combination. This expedition had been knocking around my head since 2007, but it was only when I had the right combination of the support from Kaspersky Lab, the experience from my previous expeditions and my own personal confidence in my own ability that it felt like the right time. I think all trips are a bit like that; each trip changes your priority and some expeditions that really appealed to me before this one don’t appeal to me so much now. I’m not sure what I will do next, but I think it will be a while before I put on a pair of skis again and I’m not sure I would do anything alone again.
Danielle Sellwood and Jessica Whittington, Sportsister
The Women’s Sports Magazine
For pictures of Felicity and her celebratory gala dinner see here.
