CNN Producer Vickie Usher Russell carries a block of ice that will be used to create a wall on the south side of the shelter. In Antarctica, the most brutal winds come from the south.

Producer's notebook: What they don't tell you about Antarctica

'It's sort of a weird mojo'

By Vickie Usher Russell
CNN

SOUTH POLE, Antarctica (CNN) -- It's almost 4 a.m. at the South Pole. Although it's very sunny, it's about 40 below zero. I'm trying to keep up with Carlton Walker on the steep ice ramp out of the old station -- "The Dome" -- over to the new station under construction nearby.

Carlton is the supervisor of this construction project and is making his morning rounds. He likes to walk fast and spit to the side. Fortunately for me, it's the other side.

For two years I'd dreamed of getting to the South Pole and making a documentary about the experience. It was a long road to the bottom of the world. After researching and planning things out with the National Science Foundation, I knew what we'd focus on, understood the science, and memorized a bunch of names and the basic itinerary. I felt prepared for everything. But I was wrong about that. Some of the problems we'd face were sort of "under the radar."

Upon our arrival at McMurdo Station we were constantly warned about a lot of things: dehydration, altitude sickness, sleeplessness due to the constant sunlight. Fine. We were ready. But then a few caring individuals mentioned "the paranoia that creeps in for the first few days."

Paranoia? Yes, Kyra, Dave and I all experienced that -- briefly. It was the beginning of our introduction to the strange effect Antarctica has on its would-be conquerors. John Booth, who has worked for years at McMurdo's TV station, tried to help us out. "Not sure if it's because of the insomnia -- but everybody gets it," he said. "Don't worry. Usually, it goes away."

We were glad when our one-day paranoia episode was over. But the South Pole is a tougher place than McMurdo -- and my day with Carlton showed me another way Antarctica gets into your mind.

The producer at the geographic South Pole.

As we trudge to the new station, it is obvious Carlton plans to test me. He's got the advantages: he's about 6 feet, 5 inches, I'm 5 feet, 1 inch, and he's been in this environment for months while I got here yesterday, etc. But I seem to be doing okay. I can tell Carlton doesn't hate me. But with him, as with most "Polies" (as they are called), you get the feeling that it just takes one false move and you're in the dumper.

Soon we're up another ice ramp and into the shell of the new station. It's dark and loud. Lots of friendly construction workers want to ask questions. Then I lose Carlton. In a few minutes he re-appears, talking to another guy, and then they both go underneath the sheet metal flooring we're on. Suddenly, I'm having the most bizarre deja vu experience of my life. There's no way I've seen that exact moment before - yet I have. It's so bizarre that I need to talk about it to these strangers. Will they think I'm bonkers? To my surprise, it's the ice breaker - no pun intended. Weird dreams and deja vu, they say, are par for the course at 90 degrees south. No big deal -- welcome to our world!

And the strangeness sometimes stays with you. Later, back in Atlanta, talking over the unexpectedly large number of complications in finishing the show, a South Pole buddy, Beth Watson, shared this: "Oh it got on you. The Antarctic thing got on you. It's sort of a weird mojo that kind of stays with some people. Better get used to it."

I've gotten used to it. Everything I've learned about the early Antarctic explorers seems to prove that Beth is right. Men like Ernest Shackleton, Roald Amundsen and Robert Falcon Scott would go to Antarctica, be miserable, almost die, go home, be miserable there, and go back -- either back to Antarctica or up to the Arctic. Sometimes they'd die there -- in fact, all three of these men died in a polar region (Scott and Shackleton in Antarctica, Amundsen in the Arctic). They were always called back by the place that tested them the most, forced them to deal with things other people avoid like the plague-- it's the same now, with fewer deaths.

Vickie takes a break outside the hut used by Sir Ernest Shackleton's exploration team. It was built in 1907.

There's something about Antarctica that just messes with certain people. For me, it's a love-hate thing. For example, the first night at the Pole I wrote in my diary: "It's amazing! I know I'll come back!" The next day I said to Dave the cameraman: "I can't wait to get the hell out of here."

On balance, though, it is much more love than hate. Sure, the journey was full of physical and mental hardships. But most of my memories are of exciting, unforgettable adventure: Meeting Adelie penguins on their own turf; dropping into a huge crevasse; standing in the former home of my hero, Shackleton, in his tiny bedroom (tiny!); the smell of the sea ice breaking under the ship; and especially, the glorious views of Antarctica from the helicopter (Mark, our pilot: you wanna go low and fast? Kyra and me: Yeah!!!!).

And, during the last two days at the Pole, I finally had a good answer to everyone's favorite question. How cold was it? Minus 88 degrees, folks! Pretty cold!

Yikes, just thinking about it makes me want to go back.