Hello, and welcome back to my blog! 

This we constitute my final post while here on the ice, as I am scheduled to depart for civilization on October 6th (only 8 days away from writing this!). While this may be my last post for now, it may not be my final post ever, but more on that later. 

I would like to outline this post in three parts. Past, present, and future. Reflections on the last 12 months, followed by updates of the current happenings here on station as I prepare for my departure, and finally what kinds of immediate adventures I have planned, as well as some long term plans.

With that being said, let's get started with some thoughts on my time here at the bottom of the Earth. First off, I have been asking myself: Does it feel like it's been a year? I think my honest answer is sometimes yes, but most of the time no. It feels like it has been much shorter than that. I arrived here on station on October 9th, 2024, and I last walked on US soil on October 3rd. When I write it down, it seems like a long time ago, but it doesn't feel that way in the present moment. When I arrived, the station was just beginning the Antarctic summer season, and between the chaos of the station ramping up, the jet lag, the overwhelming amount of new information starting a new job, and the simple task of trying to figure out how to live in a foreign place, the first month here was a blur. Even while it was happening I could barley remember what was going on. I don't think I really started to get my footing here until I started finding the routine to day-to-day life. Once I got down the basics of work, where and when to eat, where to do laundry (if you remember from previous posts), and the basic rules that come with surviving in such a inhabitable place, the real appreciation for this isolated place could start. One thing I am very glad I did was make the choice to take on back-to-back contracts which allowed me to be here for 12 months, opposed to what is more normal which is to either do a short 5 month summer contract, or a slightly longer 8 month winter contract. Having the summer to enjoy the sunshine and being able to explore the surrounding area with more mild weather was so important for my mental stability. Being able to see the ebbs and flows of the station during seasonal transitions, watching the sun slowly fade over the weeks until it stopped showing itself completely. Then being able to thrive and embrace the cold dark isolation of winter, only to then have the light slowly return, anticipating the first solid rays of sunshine like a an ancient tribesman who worshipped the sun god. I will say that being in the Antarctic dark for months on end makes you appreciate standing outside on a sunny day with the sun shining on your face, almost like that first sun that comes out after a long storm. It is truly rejuvenating. Seeing those transitions over the course of an entire year is also great because it allows everything to come back around full circle. When I got here, the sun was rising and setting similarly to anywhere else in the word, with equal amounts of day and night, which is what is again happening now. I think there is something to be said for that sense of normality acting as book ends to my time here, with the books in between being continually abnormal. I do want to emphasize that my use of "abnormal" does not imply negative context, but there are many small things that you have to do differently living here that add up in the end to make living here feel strange when comparing it to how you would normally live back home. For example, trash must be sorted to a bit of an extreme on station. Everything disposable has to be taken off continent due to the Antarctic Treaty. (Think "leave no trace" but for an entire continent.) This means that food has to be separated from regular trash, but that all has to be separate from hazardous waste, which also can't be anything recyclable. Batteries and electronics have to be sorted, latex gloves are in their own category,  and it also turns out not all cardboard is created equal so that has to be sorted and separated, as well as wood or plastics. The list goes on and it sounds complicated, but once you figure it out, it becomes second nature. Another oddity that I didn't really think about until now was the lack of choice in what and when you eat. This is fairly inconsequential, but it is kind of funny thinking about how I have not had a decision in what I'm eating or when for almost a year. I eat what is being served, at the same times, in the same place everyday. No having to decide what to cook, or what to buy at a grocery store, or what restaurant to go to. No trying to figure out what sounds good. There is variety, but no choices to be made. It can definitely make life easy. 

Looking back at 12 months of work in the McMurdo water plant, I can say that I am leaving proud of my work here. My biggest goal with any job is to leave things in a better place than when I found them, and I have accomplished that goal. Early in my time here working as the mechanic, I did everything in my power to fix what was broken, and make better what I could. As the lead operator, I worked to improve operational SOP's and engrain an updated philosophy into operators and management alike to get this plant operating at modern standards, which in places it was not. My hope for is that the work I put into my documentation will make those changes long-lasting, and a much better jumping off point for those who follow in my place after I am gone. Some things I have taken from this position professionally are more confidence in my knowledge and expertise in my field as well as even more appreciation for those who I learned from in the past. Making water in Antarctica has been a wild ride, and I can walk away with new technical knowledge about a treatment process I had only read about previously in textbooks. I also learned even more about efficient problem solving because what is required in the middle of an Antarctic winter is on another level, with so little support possible due to the remoteness of the installation. It has been quite the journey professionally down here, and the lessons I've learned will be taken with me.

Ok, now for some updates. As of writing, I have 8 days left here baring any flight delays. (Not that I'm counting or anything...) Most of the station will be turning over to the summer crews the first three week of October so I am not alone in my departure, but the mood on station is one of anticipation. I have had the luxury of seeing multiple seasonal transitions so I am well versed at this point of what to expect. I have been putting off most of my packing and getting ready up until this point as to not get myself overly anxious. Even the counting down of days is something that I am trying my hardest to not do. I feel it's important for my own personal mental health to stay focused on the present and enjoy these final days as much as possible, especially with the sun being back and the temps occasionally warming up to the point it's not a chore to go outside. Events on station are pretty few and far between right now, with parties mostly being small unorganized get- togethers. The big news in the last few days has been the announcement of an update to on station alcohol policy. Effective January 1, 2026, there will be no more sales of hard liquor on any US station in Antarctica. Beer and wine will still be available, but this policy shift has been a little controversial. Personally, I think it may be for the better, and it shouldn't really come as a surprise to anyone here that the attitude's are shifting, and an eventual dry station is probably in the future. For my time here on ice, I decided to not drink other than the occasional get together. This was a decision I had kind of made even before I left, but I was also under the impression due to rationing and limited quantities, it would be difficult to get alcohol and that it would probably be fairly expensive. As I learned, this was not at all the case. Yes, there are limits to the amount of alcohol you can buy on a weekly biases, but its not at all a small amount, and the prices are cheaper than what you would pay for a beer back home. In my honest opinion, as someone who has been down here only a year, and not being a part of the old school McMurdo ways, the decision to further limit the consumption of alcohol is a good one. I think it's easy for people to forget that the real reason they are here is to do a job, and regardless of what your position is, it's an important job. There are no unimportant jobs when it comes to running a scientific research station in antarctica, and the consistent crutch that alcohol becomes down here for people makes them loose sight of what the real point of there time down here is for. 

At work, I have been turning over my responsibilities and updating the incoming operator as to what happened over the winter as far as repairs and operational changes. I am lucky in that I have had multiple weeks of turnover with my replacement, where as typically it's only a few days, and my replacement has also worked here in the plant for multiple seasons. 

As far as packing goes, it should be a fairly easy job. I packed light coming down here, and I have only lost clothes since then. Mostly socks, which I am running dangerously low on. Even in Antarctica you can't escape the mystery of socks disappearing on laundry day. I am convinced someone goes in and swipes other peoples socks while the machines are running as a practical joke and the day I do pack there will be a pile of single unmatched socks sitting outside my door. Fortunately, I had some socks ordered and delivered to myself in New Zealand, waiting for me to pick up when I get there. I have also lost one pair of pants that were ripped while working, as well as at least one shirt. I will also be donating a couple of things to the station Skua (thrift store) before I leave, just to make my packing easier.

Now wrapping things up with what the future holds. So immediately after departing McMurdo, I will be spending a little over 2 weeks in New Zealand. I have decided at this point to not make any specific plans while there as this time will be used specifically for relaxation, reintegration, and thawing out. Spring will be in full swing there when I arrive meaning plenty of sunshine and warmer weather. Funny enough, I have not felt a temperature outside about freezing since last December, so anything above 50 degree will be a glorious. Even rain sounds kind of amazing right about now, which is also something i found to be missing. After decompressing there, I will depart New Zealand to reunite with my mom in Thailand where we will spend a few weeks traveling around South East Asia. This should be an amazing trip, and I am very much looking forward to spending some time traveling with my mother before finally heading back home to Colorado mid November. I am very excited to see my dad and grandfather, as well as the dog and cat. (Remember, I also haven't seen an animal besides a penguin, seal, or bird in over a year, and it's generally frowned upon to try and pet those.) 

Once back home, I have planned to take some time off of work. I would like to spend time with family, enjoy the Colorado winter, as well as spend time reacclimating to the desert. I currently have multiple ideas planned out for climbing trips, as well as some places I would like to explore from the back of my truck. I do know myself well enough to know that sooner or later, probably sooner, I will be ready for the next adventure and as of right now I fully plan on continuing my work as a contractor overseas. I have decided to put off another stint in Antarctica so I can peruse opportunities elsewhere in the world. While I have nothing set in stone at this point, I have been in contact with multiple recruiters about positions in Cuba and The Marshall Islands. Once you get into the "system," you learn that there are opportunities for water operators almost anywhere however. The bottom line is really that I have found a a way to travel while being paid, and that has really always been what I wanted out of any career. It's an amazing feeling that even though I don't know exactly what the future holds, I have the direction and goal solidified in my mind, and it is right there for the taking.

I am going to wrap this post up now before it becomes to rambling. To everyone that has continued reading throughout my time in Antarctica, I want to say thank you! As I stated earlier, this will be my last post for the near future while I get back to reality, however depending on where I end up, you can expect a sequel. If you are not following me on Instagram (@mg_beehler), please do! I post photos there semi-frequently from my travels, and it's also a great place to get in contact with me if you somehow are reading this and can't already do so by other means.

With that, Matt is signing off for the last time form McMurdo, Antarctica.