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February, 2010:

MDRS Crew 89 in the press

There have been several articles and posts written about our mission already. Here’s a roundup for your viewing pleasure:

And our final mission report (with many more details beyond the executive summary) is now available:
MDRS Crew 89 Final Mission Summary Report

Thanks again to everyone for your support and interest in our mission!

Sol 14: Re-entry

Our last day at MDRS dawned rather solemnly, with everyone up by 8, packing and tidying, but feeling a bit at loose ends. Would we have our regular morning meeting? Or had our routine already evaporated? Eventually we all did sit down for breakfast together, which felt comfortingly normal, and then we strategized about the day’s plan. We expected Crew 90 to arrive around noon, and we were determined to be ready with a warm welcome, hot meal, and an empty Hab ready for them to move in.

Radio Ridge behind the Hab

Radio Ridge behind the Hab

We made great progress, with all of our bags outside on a pallet by 10:30 a.m., and we then moved on to our last reporting and organization tasks. I burned DVDs of all the photos and documents we’d generated during our mission (8 GB of photos plus 8 GB of videos). We sat down to lunch, anticipating that actually eating with Crew 90 would be impossible (the concept of 12 people dining together in our Hab just boggled the mind). And then the wait began. Noon passed… 1 p.m. passed… 2 p.m. passed… and no sign of Crew 90. We all dealt with the delay in our own ways. Darrel and I hiked up onto Radio Ridge, savoring the sweeping vistas and the freedom to walk, hike, stoop, examine rocks, and otherwise explore entirely unencumbered. Mike and Luis took the ATVs out for a last wild ride, without bulky backpacks and limited visibility. Carla stood on the Hab’s doorstep, ready and ready and long-past ready for their arrival. Brian remained indoors compiling our mission’s summary report from the individual inputs we’d previously prepared. Eventually, though, we were all outside, standing in those last moments of silence, straining our ears for any sign of the new crew.

Musk Observatory before Olympus Mons

Musk Observatory before Olympus Mons

When they did arrive, at 2:45 p.m., they broke into our world with a bang. We watched as not one, not two, but three vehicles pulled up in front of the Hab. Crew 90 is the first all-Belgian MDRS crew, and they brought with them a serious media presence. They had two reporters and two videographers, who are staying until Tuesday in Hanksville to document their settling in and initial activities in the Hab. With no advance warning of the media onslaught, we were a little taken aback as we tried to encourage the crew into the Hab so that they could sit down for a meal and we could begin our handover briefing. To their credit, the first words Crew 90 offered us were apologies for their late arrival. But cramming sixteen people into the Hab was almost an unbearable contrast with our comfortable six-person patterns, and the noise level was entirely overwhelming. Darrel and Luis were snagged by reporters and pulled off to the side, while Brian and Carla tried to organize the new crew at the table. I felt tongue-tied and hung back in the work area with Mike.

Lowell Highway, now Lowell River

Lowell Highway, now Lowell River

After a general overview, we split into two groups. Mike, Luis, and I showed three of the new crew around the downstairs lab area, the toilet and shower, how to suit up for EVAs, and how to start and operate the ATVs. Darrel, Carla, and Brian took the others on engineering rounds. This went quite smoothly, although it was difficult to determine how much was really conveyed; we got the sense that they did not all have the same level of English fluency.

Time was ticking away, and Brian needed to get back to Hanksville to drop off his seismic equipment for mailing back to Exploration Instruments. Still, we waited patiently while Darrel took the time to give the new crew a thorough grounding in the critical engineering systems that would keep the Hab operational during their stay. We all know just how valuable that orientation and training would be, so we did not begrudge the extra time. But neither did we restrain our gleeful shouts and cheers when we finally pulled away from the Hab, just after 5 p.m.!

Crews 89 and 90

Crews 89 and 90

So many choices, Mike!

So many choices, Mike!

We made it to our hotel in Grand Junction by 8 p.m. Although we were all eagerly anticipating our first meal back in civilization, we took the time for some quick showers (we’re all experts at fast showers now) just to savor the feel of getting properly clean and being able to use real shampoo (and conditioner! Oh, the luxury). Then we headed for the Rockslide Brewery and had a hands-down fantastic meal. We couldn’t get over the fact that we had such a vast array of choices, and there were fresh salads, and we could each have different meals! There was fresh sourdough bread (not U.S.-Army-developed shelf-stable bread), with actual butter (not ghee), and my salad had fresh cucumbers! Luis and Darrel had steak, and we goggled at the asparagus and carrots that came with it. The mashed potatoes were simply heavenly—buttery, sweet, full of savory taste. I had a portobello mushroom pasta dish with sundried tomatoes, olives, and pine nuts. The rest of the crew enjoyed some beer samplers (Mike had turned 21 during our mission). We finished up with actual ice cream (!) plus cake for Mike. I’m sure the waitstaff were entertained by our exclamations of delight and utter enjoyment of the food they served. Best of all: we didn’t do any of the cooking, and none of us (especially Carla) washed any dishes!

Dinner at the Rockslide Brewery

Dinner at the Rockslide Brewery

Back at the hotel, we gathered in one room to learn more about Crew 90’s background, and to see what they were up to through the webcams. It was surprisingly disorienting to see utter strangers moving about in “our” Hab: a combination of displacement and anxious protectiveness for the Hab. Will they manage to keep everything running? Was our handover comprehensive enough? Will they stop leaving the downstairs engineering light on all night? I’m sure we’ll all be checking in with their activities and reports over the next two weeks. As part of the handoff procedure, we should all be subscribed to the MDRS Hab mailing list, able to answer questions and offer tips, just as Crew 88 did for us.

I think we’re all struggling a little already with our re-integration into “Earth” life. It is difficult to follow some conversations from strangers—that is, anyone not in our crew. They seem concerned with things that have faded in importance, like currency (we have to pay for things?) and cars and jobs and Facebook and Superbowls. They don’t get our jokes about Argentinian wives, komodo dragons, mountain lions, “kill -9”, and GreenHab water. Everywhere we are afflicted with the sensory barrage of modern commerce, TV, advertising, multiple conversations going on at once—society in general. Our close-knit harmony, so integral that it was almost unnoticeable during the mission itself, is dissolving as we part ways and we are left flailing just a little in adapting to how other people work again. I cannot speak for the rest of the crew, but the magnitude of this effect surprises me. I guess even in two weeks, the psychological effects of extreme isolation and the essential interdependence of our small group have hit home.

It’s not clear when we’ll see each other again, in smaller groups or as a full crew. I may see Brian at the upcoming Lunar and Planetary Science Conference in Houston. Carla, who lives in Houston, will sadly be off vacationing in Bora Bora! (Well, sadly for me; I’m sure she will be having a wonderful time!) But wherever we may be, I think we will all hold a warm spot in our hearts for our accomplishments and our teamwork. We did it! We survived, and thrived, in our expedition to the Mars Desert Research Station. Thank you to everyone who supported and aided us in this challenge—and especial thanks to my crewmates, all of whom were absolutely top-notch.

Mission Summary

Below is the Executive Summary from our mission summary report. It’ll also be a Mars Society press release later this week.

MDRS MISSION 89 REACHES SUCCESSFUL CONCLUSION

The 89th expedition to the Mars Desert Research Station (MDRS) returned to Earth today having successfully completed a two-week mission in a Mars analog environment. MDRS is located in a visually stunning, geologically rich area of the Utah desert that affords an excellent opportunity to learn how science investigations can be conducted by an isolated, self-sufficient human crew.

Through the 14-day mission, the international crew transitioned from an assortment of near strangers to an efficient, compatible, coherent team. They learned not only how to conduct operations in the remote setting but also how to live and work in the very cramped quarters of MDRS. Their research goals spanned a gamut of areas, and they discovered almost immediately that their diverse skills and backgrounds formed a complementary union. Crew 89 tackled a diverse collection of projects including astronomy, biology, geophysics, geology, image geolocation, engineering, and public outreach.

Over the course of the formal Mars mission simulation, the crew completed 20 extra vehicular activities (EVAs) in a total elapsed EVA time of 40 hrs, traveling a total distance of 130 km. This translates into a cumulative in simulation crew time of 113 man-hours and a distance of 326 km. On each MDRS Crew 89 EVA, a crewmember wore a Garmin Forerunner GPS and heart rate monitor system to gather concurrent geographic and physiological data. Crewmembers also captured geotagged photos using a Nikon Coolpix P6000 GPS-enabled camera. These technologies allowed the crew to easily combine their EVA ground tracks and photos and share the EVA experiences with the public as georeferenced slideshows via the website EveryTrail.com.

Multiple snowfalls impinged on outdoor EVA operations and limited the visibility and accessibility of features of interest. However, the crew adapted ably to this challenge, devoting a series of EVAs to building confidence for operating in the snowy field conditions. This effort culminated in a simulated rescue operation that employed a home-built sled to successfully tow an “injured” crewmember back to the Hab.

Commander Brian Shiro led two EVAs to complete a seismic refraction profile to image a putative buried inverted channel on Mid Ridge Planitia using equipment generously on loan from Exploration Instruments, LLC. He was also a subject in a study to gauge knee fabric abrasion on the prototype NDX-2 Mars spacesuit developed by the University of North Dakota’s Space Suit Laboratory.

Crew Astronomer Mike Moran led three EVAs that served to double the height of the radio telescope, increasing its sensitivity for observing radio emissions from Jupiter. After hours of listening to the radio hum from the telescope, he confirmed a positive detection radio bursts from the gas giant.

Crew Biologist Luís Saraiva collected endolithic algae samples from a variety of different locations and studied the organisms in the MDRS lab. Similar extremophile organisms could exist in endolithic environments on Mars. He also collaborated with Crew Engineer Darrel Robertson in a water quality study of the Hab’s gray water recycling system.

Crew Geologist Kiri Wagstaff explored sedimentary structures in Olympus Mons and Valles Marineris, and measured a stratigraphic section at the Lowell North Sedimentary Outcrop. She also investigated the use of statistical image analysis methods to automatically assign latitude and longitude coordinates to digital images by comparing them to a database of previously geolocated images.

Crew Engineer Darrel Robertson built upon the accomplishments of Crew 88 and was able to bring the remaining MDRS Hab systems up to a fully operational state. He also designed, built, and tested an efficient water recycling shower aimed at reducing water consumption. With Crew Biologist Saraiva, he analyzed bacteria counts in water samples at every stage of the process to assure the water met safe bathing standards.

Executive Officer Carla Haroz coordinated and tracked the crew’s daily activities and participated in all of the other crewmembers’ research studies. She also worked feats of culinary magic with the restricted food options available, inventing several new meals and some especially innovative, delectable, desserts.

Despite their busy research schedule, the crew found time for recreation too. Since Mars explorers must exercise to combat the physiological deconditioning associated with low gravity conditions, Crew 89 also scheduled and executed several group exercise sessions (stretching calisthenics, Jazzercise and Capoeira) led by crewmembers Wagstaff and Saraiva. On several occasions, they watched movies and played games too. Crew Engineer Robertson used his artistic skills to create a MDRS version of the Clue board game, which is now available at the Hab for future crews to enjoy. By laughing and joking together, the crew’s partaking in these activities served as both stress relievers and means to improve group cohesiveness.

Throughout the mission, Crew 89 maintained a vibrant, active public presence via a dynamic website that include daily blog posts, Twitter updates, YouTube videos, and a Facebook group. The website also included summary maps and links to georeferenced photos for all EVAs (1-10, 11-20). Their website serves as a shining example of what is possible when a crew devotes itself to quality public outreach despite limitations of time and bandwidth. Although the mission is now over, the crew will continue to post updates as they analyze and present results from their MDRS research endeavors. Please follow the adventure at:

https://www.wkiri.com/mdrs_crew89/

Sol 13: Valles Marineris, Mount Sagewood, and the elusive caves

Today our crew was interviewed by Amnon Govrin, a space enthusiast blogger. He brought his twin 9-year-old sons, and we had a good time showing all three of them around our Hab, GreenHab, Musk Observatory, and Engineering Station. Amnon came equipped with a sharp camera and a list of questions for us. The kids seemed really taken by anything vertical: the steps we climb up to our living quarters, the ladder to the storage loft, the hills outside the Hab, and so on. We had planned for an EVA to leave just as Amnon arrived, so he and his sons could see the whole suit-up and EVA preparation process.

I led EVA 19 off on a quest for Valles Marineris, accompanied by Mike and Darrel. In some ways, the Mars-y names assigned to these local Utah features feel a little weird. Our local Olympus Mons doesn’t rise much more than 65 meters above the surrounding plain, rather than the jaw-dropping 27,000 meters attained by the Olympus Mons on Mars (three times taller than Mount Everest). Likewise, our local Valles Marineris surely could not compare to the 7,000-meter deep feature on Mars. But I’d heard that it was still a sight to see, so I wanted to investigate first-hand.

Darrel and Mike as we hunted for Cactus Road

Darrel and Mike as we hunted for Cactus Road

This was a bit of challenge, since Valles Marineris is positioned on the same Cactus Road that we failed to find on EVA 16. The road had been washed out so badly that, with patchy snowcover littering the terrain, I couldn’t be confident that we were *on* a road. I am (maybe overly) cautious about exploring into the unknown because I really hate to cause any damage to the desert terrain, even aside from the BLM requirement that we stay on trails. But today we went out with fresh determination and scouted away from Lowell Highway until we found bona fide ATV tracks, just around a hill. Encouraged, we took off down “Cactus Road”, which was actually the muddy bottom of a trickling runoff creek.

Mike and Kiri enter Valles Marineris

Mike and Kiri enter Valles Marineris

We came upon Valles Marineris almost immediately, as our creek-bed road cut down through 30-50 feet of layered rock. The mini-canyon walls rose up, revealing beautifully bedded layers. I was torn between stopping to photograph and inch along each bit of exposed section, and wanting to explore further with my EVA-mates. We’d only been out for about 15 minutes, and I knew we all wanted to go further than that! So we drove along further, eventually striking a road leading up a snowy slope to the south.

We crested the hill and found ourselves on a wide plain. Truly deep canyons dropped off in the distance to our left (later we confirmed them as Candor Chasma, the subject of EVA 8). Closer in reach, a mountain with beautiful, striking bands of purple and red towered to our right. Squinting, I could even detect a tiny green layer sandwiched in. “That’s where we might find fossils,” I said, pointing. “That’s probably a green shale layer, deposited in a marine environment.” Darrel immediately jumped on this and proposed hiking up to the distant layer. I was a little leery of the steep, muddy slope, but it was just too tempting to pass up!

Mike ascends Mt. Sagewood

Mike ascends Mt. Sagewood

We scrambled and pawed our way up the flanks of the mountain (later identified as Mount Sagewood). At the top, we picked our way along the green layer’s exposure, conveniently at about hip-height. It topped a series of vivid red and purple bands, and the colors glowed in the noontime sun. We didn’t find any fossils… but may have found traces of endoliths, and the variety and beauty of the sedimentary structures was more than enough satisfaction for me.
Kiri digs at the green layer

Kiri digs at the green layer

We then climbed the last 30 feet to the top of the mountain and enjoyed a beautiful panoramic view, with the Hab in the distance to the west, Olympus Mons and Factory Butte jutting up to the northwest, Valles Marineris dropping away to the north, and Candor Chasma floating like a heady mirage of sedimentary nirvana to the east. We oohed and ahhed and took tons of pictures, then carefully descended back down to the ATVs. Our trip back was quick, but very muddy. I waved Mike on to take the lead from Cactus Road home, and he clearly enjoyed racing through the muddy streambed, bouncing off rocks, and racing full-throttle back down Lowell Highway to the Hab.

You can view the full EVA 19 information, including a map.

Amnon Govrin and his sons were just getting ready to leave, so Mike and Darrel ferried them back to Hanksville, and I helped Brian, Luis, and Carla get ready for EVA 20. Their intended destination was the pair of caves that had eluded Luis and Mike on EVA 15. They were equipped this time with a series of GPS waypoints that should have led them straight to Canton Cave. Unfortunately, they got all the way up near the cave, in Serenity Valley, only to find that the road plunged into a deep channel that could not be safely crossed with the ATVs. While they could have walked the last kilometer on foot, they were running out of time. They returned home, even muddier than we had been, disappointed not to have found the cave but still glad to have had one last EVA.

EVA20_pano1

And here’s the full EVA 20 information, including a map.

It’s hit home with all of us that this has been the last day of our Mars mission simulation. Tomorrow will be filled with more cleaning, packing, and getting ready for the Hab handover to Crew 90. I realized that just recently our mode of operations here has really started to feel normal, and that I feel quite at home. Two weeks is just enough time to settle into a good routine, having smoothed out the rough edges. (It hasn’t hurt that Darrel has fixed or upgraded much of the Hab’s functionality during our tenure!) I expect it to be quite jarring to return to “Earth” life. I’ve certainly felt this to be a hugely educational, eye-opening, wonderful, beautiful experience. If what we’ve accomplished and learned can in any way translate into useful knowledge for a real human mission to Mars, I fervently hope that there will be a way for us to share.

Sol 12: Nightrider part 2

(continued…)

ATV covers make great light shades for laptop users

ATV covers make great light shades for laptop users

Brian showed me how the software worked so that I could help him prepare it for shot data collection. We had to update the current position each time Luis moved, and update the position of the land streamer each time we advanced it. It was good to have two people who could operate the software, because Brian’s helmet fogged up so that he couldn’t see the laptop screen. So we both hunched over the laptop, under the ATV cover we’d brought up with us to use like a photographer’s black drape. We poked at the laptop keys with two pens, since the suit gloves aren’t dextrous enough to hit the keys accurately.

Luis with mud-spattered helmet

Luis with mud-spattered helmet

Brian, Luis, and Darrel had previously worked out a system of hand gestures to communicate while collecting data, because we had to turn our suit radios off (they could cause interference with the data collection). So I’d enter the coordinates, Brian would wave vertically to Luis, Luis would swing the hammer, the laptop would beep happily when it detected the shot, and we’d repeat. When three good shots were collected, Brian would wave his hand horizontally and Luis would advance to the next location. I’d disarm the geophones while Luis moved, then re-arm them once he was in position again.

Brian replacing faulty geophone #3

Brian replacing faulty geophone #3

One thing we had not anticipated was how quickly running the laptop from the ATV’s battery (via an inverter) would drain the battery. After a couple of hours of data collection, the next time we tried to tow the land streamer, the rover almost wouldn’t start. Duh! Of course you need to run the rover for a little while each time and let it charge the battery. We didn’t have trouble after figuring this out.

Brian and the land streamer

Brian and the land streamer

Soon we’d settled into a great routine and were collecting shot data with high efficiency. Near the end of the sixth line, though, I noticed that the sun was touching the far horizon, and we decided that we’d have to stop at the end of that line. We finished the shots and started packing up as quickly as we could. At that point we realized that we were somehow short on bungee cords—and two snapped while we were strapping them on. So things weren’t as secure as we would like. Also, Luis was the only one with a headlamp, which was a bad oversight on our part.

It was nearly dark by the time we started for home. But our rovers have great headlights (if they didn’t have lights, we obviously wouldn’t have stayed out so long). In fact, visibility wasn’t a problem at all, and it felt perfectly safe heading home. The problem instead was with the strapped-on equipment. I had the laptops in a hard case strapped on the front of Spirit, but they were resting on that wretched heavy metal plate we used for shots. The plate was both smooth and had snow on it, which was a recipe for a very low coefficient of friction. Plus, the bungee cords weren’t really strong enough to hold the laptop and the plate in position. So every little bump in the road was causing the case to slide around. I started holding the case with my left hand and driving with my right (where the throttle is) but this definitely is not ideal on an ATV. Finally, after crossing an unusually bumpy mini-gully, I felt the case slide more than usual and decided to stop. I guess Luis was close behind me, because his rover bumped into mine (but not hard).

We climbed off and fiddled with the bungee cords. Brian, who had been in the lead with a faulty radio, finally realized that we weren’t with him and turned around and came back. We strapped the laptop case on the back of Spirit (on top of the sledgehammer) and set off again. This was much more secure, and the driving went more smoothly—until the plate started moving on its own and I realized that its bungee cord had popped one end off. I stopped (no impact this time), reseated the cord, and headed off again. This happened a second time. The third time, I was heading into a ditch and the plate slid off the front of the ATV. I let it go, since unlike the laptop case it wasn’t worth diving for to save. I stopped, climbed off, picked it back up, and Luis and Brian strapped it more securely. We then cautiously motored home, our speed limited far more by our burdens than the night conditions. Luis and Brian also had challenges—the bulky geophone boxes strapped on the back of the ATVs prevented them from fully sitting down, because our suit packs stick out so far behind us.

You can view the full EVA 18 information, including a map.

We arrived back to the Hab at 6:45 p.m., and never was that airlock so welcome! Darrel and Mike were waiting inside and helped us out of our suits. We removed packs, helmets, radios, gloves, hats, gaiters, boots, cameras, GPS units, etc. and climbed wearily up to our living quarters. Thank goodness, Carla had a hot meal waiting for us on our return!