The Sled Ride
This is the “bobsled” engineered by McGregor and Schloredt. The group of us (Jerry Schloredt, Leonard McGregor, Rex Hoover, Russ Anderson, Jack Ashenden) took this thing on a ride down a glacier one afternoon and it was a once in a lifetime experience. I say once because even we weren’t dumb enough to do it a second time. This is what happened, as I remembered it some 4 decades later.
With Jerry as our guide, we dragged the sled up a road and over what seemed like miles of packed snow to reach the top of a small mountain. On the way we passed the McMurdo doctor and dentist, out in their truck on a routine medical run. We stopped to chat, and then continued up the mountain while the doctors continued down. It was a bright sunny day with the temperature cold enough to freeze the beer, and put ice crystals in the Scotch, we were carrying. We eventually reached the top where all we could see was a downhill slope that disappeared from view after a distance of about 1/2 mile. Jerry explained that we needed to travel downhill with constant steering to the right or we would end up going off a hundred foot high cliff at the bottom edge of the glacier. With appropriate fortification of our resolve from the little bit of unfrozen booze in our pockets, we climbed on the “bobsled” and promptly descended the mountain at what felt like the same speed we would achieve jumping out of a 40-story building. About the time we crested the first and shallowest part of the mountain slope, we lost two of our riders. The three remaining continued with Mac in front, Jerry behind Mac, and me on the brakes at the rear. When we went over that crest, our speed increased significantly and Jerry yelled “put on the brakes”. I yelled back “I got them on”. It seems that the two pipes Mac and Jerry designed for brakes actually made the sled go faster when put into position. That is the second time I knew we were not operating in a method consistent with good mental health, the first being when we got on the damn sled in the first place!
So down the side of this glacier we went, at a speed that no human being should reach without being surrounded by a motorized vehicle of some kind. After what seemed like at least a mile of travel, Mac began yelling “Get off the sled”. What you have to envision when you read this is that the temperature was well below zero, it was a bright sunny day on the side of a huge white glacier, we were traveling very fast, and only Mac had goggles! Squinting into the bright light with a cold wind in your face and no goggles means tears, not clear vision, so Jerry and I couldn’t really see what was happening. We assumed Mac was concerned about going over the cliff at the bottom, so our well considered response was “no, we’re riding it to the bottom”. After Mac repeated his plea several times we decided to honor his request and ended up crashing into a wall of snow. It seems Mac and Jerry’s sled design didn’t allow for departure while in motion.
It was then that we found out that Mac’s leg had slipped under the runner and we were bouncing down the side of the glacier riding on his ankle! Mac insisted on walking back to Hut 14 without aid, and of course we went along since he can be just a tad stubborn. When we got back to Hut 14 and pulled his boot off, Mac’s ankle puffed up in the most gorgeous shades of red, purple and green, much like a Hawaiian sunset.
I assume that the rapid swelling and colorful appearance of his leg prompted Mac to change his mind about accepting a little help from his friends, because he allowed us to half carry him to sickbay. So here are the same guys the doctor saw several hours ago dragging a sled up the side of a mountain, now dragging one of their group into sickbay with a nasty looking ankle. When the doctor asked what happened, we explained that we were having a party in Hut 14 (which was a common occurrence) and Mac twisted his ankle while “stomp dancing”. The doctor, with a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye, filled out the medical form accordingly. The next day the base commander had a notice posted that we had to tone down our parties since they had gotten so active that someone got seriously hurt. There were 110 men on the base, 109 knew what happened. Can you guess which one didn’t?
I had the opportunity to see that glacier from a helicopter later and it was a good thing I didn’t see it before the ride. There was not enough “idiot water” on the ice to get me to do something that crazy with the full understanding of what I was doing. But it did reinforce my resolve to seriously question any further requests from Jerry to join another of his adventures.
As the word spread of our little ride, the Kiwi’s at Scott Base were so impressed that they gave us a party to celebrate our adventure, and present us with Scott Base Ski Club patches.
And the best part, Mac lost his limp after only a few years.
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