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(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
68.
A few weeks later I flew to the Antarctic, landed at a research station called Novolazarevskaya, atiny village of huts and Portakabins. The few hardy1 souls living there were fabulous2 hosts. Theyhoused me, fed me—their soups were amazing. I couldn’t get enough.
Maybe because it was thirty-five degrees below zero?
More piping-hot chicken noodle, Harry3?
Yes, please.
The team and I spent a week or two carb-loading, gearing up. And, of course, quaffing4 vodka.
At last, one bleary morning…off we went. We climbed into a plane, flew up to the ice shelf,stopped to refuel. The plane landed on a field of solid, flat white, as in a dream. There was nothingto be seen in any direction but a handful of giant fuel barrels. We taxied over to them and I got outwhile the pilots filled up. The silence was holy—not a bird, not a car, not a tree—but it was onlyone part of the larger, all-encompassing nothingness. No smells, no wind, no sharp corners ordistinct features to distract from the endless and insanely beautiful vista5. I walked off to be bymyself for a few moments. I’d never been anywhere half so peaceful. Overcome with joy, I did aheadstand. Months and months of anxiety passed away…for a few minutes.
We got back onto the plane, flew to the starting point of the trek6. As we began walking, at last,I remembered: Oh, yeah, my toe’s broken.
Just recently, in fact. A boys’ weekend in Norfolk. We drank and smoked and partied tilldawn, and then, while trying to reassemble one of the rooms we’d rearranged, I dropped a heavychair with brass7 wheels onto my foot.
Silly injury. But debilitating8. I could barely walk. No matter, I was determined9 not to let theteam down.
Somehow I kept pace with my fellow walkers, nine hours each day, pulling a sledge10 thatweighed about two hundred pounds. It was hard for everyone to gain traction11 on the snow, but forme the particular challenge was the slick, undulating patches carved out by the wind. Sastrugi, thatwas the Norwegian word for these patches. Trekking12 across sastrugi with a broken toe? Maybethis could be an event at the International Warrior13 Games, I thought. But any time I felt tempted14 tocomplain—about my toe, my fatigue15, anything—I had only to glance at my fellow walkers. I wasdirectly behind a Scottish soldier named Duncan, who had no legs. Behind me, an Americansoldier named Ivan was blind. So not one whinge would be heard from me, I vowed16.
Also, an experienced polar guide had advised me before I left Britain to use this trek to “cleanthe hard drive.” That was his phrase. Use the repetitive motion, he said, use the biting cold, usethat nothingness, that landscape’s unique blankness, to narrow your focus until your mind fallsinto a trance. It will become a meditation17.
I followed his advice to the letter. I told myself to stay present. Be the snow, be the cold, beeach step, and it worked. I fell into the loveliest trance, and even when my thoughts were dark Iwas able to stare at them, watch them float away. Sometimes it would happen that I’d watch mythoughts connect to other thoughts and all at once the whole chain of thoughts would make somesense. For instance, I considered all of the previous challenging walks of my life—the North Pole,the Army exercises, following Mummy’s coffin18 to the grave—and while the memories werepainful, they also provided continuity, structure, a kind of narrative19 spine20 that I’d never suspected.
Life was one long walk. It made sense. It was wonderful. All was interdependent andinterconnected…
Then came the dizzies.
The South Pole, counterintuitively, is high above sea level, roughly three thousand meters, andso altitude sickness is a real danger. One walker had already been taken off our trek; now Iunderstood why. The feeling started slowly and I brushed it off. Then it knocked me flat. Headspins, followed by crushing migraine, pressure building in both lobes21 of my brain. I didn’t want tostop but it wasn’t up to me. My body said, Thanks, this is where we get off. The knees went. Theupper torso followed.
I hit the snow like a pile of rocks.
Medics pitched a tent, laid me flat, gave me some sort of anti- migraine injection. In mybuttocks, I think. Steroids, I heard them say. When I came to, I felt semi-revived. I caught up withthe group, searched for a way back into the trance.
Be the cold, be the snow…
As we neared the Pole we were all in sync, all elated. We could see it there, just over there,through our ice-crusted eyelashes. We began running to it.
Stop!
The guides told us it was time to make camp.
Camp? What the—? But the finish line’s just there.
You’re not allowed to camp at the Pole! So we’ll all have to camp here tonight, then strike outfor the Pole in the morning.
Camped in the shadow of the Pole, none of us could sleep, we were too excited. And thus wehad a party. There was some drinking, horseplay. The underside of the world rang with ourgiggles.
Finally, at first light, December 13, 2013, we took off, stormed the Pole. On or near the exactspot was a huge circle of flags representing the twelve signatories of the Antarctic treaty. We stoodbefore the flags, exhausted23, relieved, disoriented. Why’s there a Union Jack24 on the coffin? Thenwe hugged. Some press accounts say one of the soldiers took off his leg and we used it as atankard to guzzle25 champagne26, which sounds right, but I can’t remember. I’ve drunk booze out ofmultiple prosthetic legs in my life and I can’t swear that was one of the times.
Beyond the flags stood a huge building, one of the ugliest I’d ever seen. A windowless box,built by the Americans as a research center. The architect who designed this monstrosity, Ithought, must’ve been filled with hate for his fellow humans, for the planet, for the Pole. It brokemy heart to see a thing so unsightly dominate a land so otherwise pristine27. Nevertheless, alongwith everyone else, I hurried inside the ugly building to warm up, have a pee, drink some cocoa.
There was a huge café and we were all starving. Sorry, we were told, café’s closed. Would youlike a glass of water?
Water? Oh. OK.
Each of us was handed a glass.
Then a souvenir. A test tube.
With a tiny cork28 in the top.
On the side was a printed label: Cleanest Air in the World.
1 hardy | |
adj.勇敢的,果断的,吃苦的;耐寒的 | |
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2 fabulous | |
adj.极好的;极为巨大的;寓言中的,传说中的 | |
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3 harry | |
vt.掠夺,蹂躏,使苦恼 | |
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4 quaffing | |
v.痛饮( quaff的现在分词 );畅饮;大口大口将…喝干;一饮而尽 | |
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5 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
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6 trek | |
vi.作长途艰辛的旅行;n.长途艰苦的旅行 | |
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7 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
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8 debilitating | |
a.使衰弱的 | |
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9 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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10 sledge | |
n.雪橇,大锤;v.用雪橇搬运,坐雪橇往 | |
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11 traction | |
n.牵引;附着摩擦力 | |
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12 trekking | |
v.艰苦跋涉,徒步旅行( trek的现在分词 );(尤指在山中)远足,徒步旅行,游山玩水 | |
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13 warrior | |
n.勇士,武士,斗士 | |
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14 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
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15 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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16 vowed | |
起誓,发誓(vow的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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17 meditation | |
n.熟虑,(尤指宗教的)默想,沉思,(pl.)冥想录 | |
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18 coffin | |
n.棺材,灵柩 | |
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19 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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20 spine | |
n.脊柱,脊椎;(动植物的)刺;书脊 | |
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21 lobes | |
n.耳垂( lobe的名词复数 );(器官的)叶;肺叶;脑叶 | |
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22 anti- | |
pref.[前缀]表示反抗,排斥 | |
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23 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
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24 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
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25 guzzle | |
v.狂饮,暴食 | |
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26 champagne | |
n.香槟酒;微黄色 | |
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27 pristine | |
adj.原来的,古时的,原始的,纯净的,无垢的 | |
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28 cork | |
n.软木,软木塞 | |
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