Few days ago few of the Russian scientists in our group borrowed a larger ship, in order to examine the runoff and the water composition of the river arms of the Lena Delta. It became a good opportunity for our group to take a trip to the town about 50 kilometers south, called Tit-Ari. The trip took roughly four hours and the modest weather on our way was quite impressive.
We saw spectacular cliffs on the adjacent mountains, which looked like layered petrified geology book, sometimes looming in pointed tips and reminding us of the Dolomites. It was a nice change to the usually flat landscape of the Lena Delta.
After having sailed for a while, we saw small groups of conifers clinging to the steep slopes on the hills outside the town. I would not call it a full-grown forest as people from Germany or from southern parts of Russia would describe a forest- but definitely something that could be called "trees". It actually reminded me a little of Christmas tree forests, which "grow" during December on Christmas markets.
We got, as the photo shows, carried away a bit by this scenery and some of us had quite enthusiastic reactions even. After we calmed down, we went on a search for gifts of nature, which can be found here around Samoylov. Some of us managed to collect large bags of mushrooms. Others started quickly fill their rucksacks with all kinds of berries, such as blueberries and redcurrants. Especially popular were the bright-orange cloudberries, of which Thomas has already told you about in the last posting from Muostakh. Once we found the right places, usually spotted on large surfaces with bright green moss, we could in a short time eat our bellies full. There were, however, still enough berries left to take home to the folks back in Samoylov.After all, the day we spent in "South" gave us very good memories because of the trees and berries and the very impressive landscape. This motivates us to carry on our scientific research for the last few days here on the island Samoylov.
Greetings from the treeless Tundra,
Max
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Main page of the English translation of the blog "Tundra Stories": http://page21.org/blogs/59-samoylov
Original German blog: http://www.awi.de/de/go/Tundra-Stories
We want to research our polygon with sensors in two different locations for a period of several years and do not want to destroy the surface of the tundra during our work.
That means, like few weeks ago, that we need to install plenty of boards to make a reasonable boardwalk and the required workspace. In the center of the polygon the water level was also just above the surface when we started, so that we had to start earlier and pump large amounts of water from the area. So during our work the hum of the pump accompanied us almost continuously, to prevent our hole to become completely filled with water again.
The top layer of the soil was cut out fairly accurately with a spade and laid on a plastic sheet in order to be able to fill the entire hole back to the original as soon as possible. After that the more relaxed part of the work came, which though ended rather abruptly when we reached the bottom of the current thawing at just 30 centimeters. The spade struck on concrete solid frozen ground, which clearly had to be resorted by using harsher means: yellow gasoline powered Pico hammer drill.
In the beginning, it is quite exciting to work with the drill. The chunks of frozen soil, which you can break out with it, are namely quite large. But after some time the work gets hard on the hands and arms. Not to mention the noise and fumes. First, the drill whirls so rapidly that the tundra winds of the ground, but as soon as the hole is so deep, that the drill becomes "exhausted" on the soil surface, the acrid stench will be somewhat uncomfortable. I was born in the industrial area of Ruhr and thought to myself that it was a pretty good thing I was not born hundred years ago, because back then the colliery kept going seven days a week.
By constantly fighting against the invading water, which was removed by a pump or the good old bucket, we came to about eighty centimeters wide ice lens that no one would have expected to find there. A clear ice spreading in the ground.
All this took place under the eyes of a television crew of the Geman RBB, which will make a documentary film about the work on Samoylov and Muostakh in the coming winter. We are all already looking forward to the probably pretty weird feeling to see you working in television. Luckily the crew was not there when we had at the end of the two days fill the holes with the carefully piled soil again. A researcher, who is in a pit filled to the knees with brown mush, represents certainly anything but an elegant image.