Alastair Vere NicollRecensioner

This is an interesting story which shows the effort level, the isolation, and the difficulty of living and traveling in extreme environments. The author also wanders into the realm of philosophy, sometimes very effectively.

Let me start off by saying that I have no idea how a trip across Antarctica could appeal to anyone, even in the most posh of circumstances. Obviously, the group of friends did not just traipse across the continent in this manner. Perhaps since I am from the Midwest, I realize on a much, much smaller scale how miserable ice, wind, and snow can be, and this is what the author described in this book. The conditions are horrid, but the details are many. This is definitely a good read for anyone that wants to experience the misery of a lengthy, miserable Antarctic trip.

The author seems to have very romanticized notions of what Antarctica should be like. He constantly draws parallels between his trip and former well recorded historic trips, as well as with just other literature in general. If you are looking for a book that is strictly a description of the adventure, then this is not for you. He spends barely half the book describing the actual journey, and a good portion of that is about the preparation. This book seems to be more about how the trip and everything that happens before and during it make the author feel about life in general. That said, I still found it enjoyable.½

I really wanted to love this book, however, too little attention was paid to the details of the actual adventure. Much of the book focused on the authors private life including what lead to his deciding to take up the adventure which was interesting, but took up too much of the story. There were so many quotes and references to classic literature and too much time drawing parrallels to other works and adventurer's efforts. The last 1/4 or so was good, but the beginning was just so drawn out that I had a hard time getting into the book.½

All in all, I'd say in general that this isn't a great adventure book. But it is a good book and enjoyable to read. Lots of books are written nowadays about gimmicky adventures that are 'the first this' and 'the biggest that' type derivatives of adventures that have already been done. You know, you've heard of a celebrated adventure that amounted to something like "the first rock climber to jump on his left foot while singing 'away in a manger' in Spanish on top of Mount McKinley." While Riding the Ice wind isn't quite that absurd, the adventure itself, while still a huge accomplishment, wasn't terribly unique from a readers' perspective.

However, I found the human element to be very interesting. Alistair Nicoll had a kind of mid-life crisis a few years early and had to do something drastic to understand himself and his path. He was racing to try and get home for the birth of his first child and was fighting his own internal dialogue the whole way. Something in me resonated with "Ali's" position in life. Also, I found a lot in common with him that made the story really hit home for me.

The writing itself is a bit better than the average adventure book, and was enjoyable especially because he writes some rather literary and interesting things into the text. For example, comparing the Katabatic winds to the winds in the lower circles of Dante's Inferno. A bit effete, and too much for some people, but right up my alley!

I love a good adventure and this just wasn't one. Nicoll's account of a four-man adventure across Antarctica is interesting based solely on location. I couldn't get past my overwhelming feeling that the author was not a great adventurer, but rather a selfish, whiny, and somewhat narcissistic little prat.

Over the years I've read many accounts of polar journeys – both classic accounts of Scott, Shackleton, Cook and Peary, and accounts of contemporary treks. This book has reinforced my decision to skip the contemporary accounts from here on out. This author felt it necessary to spend the first third of the book explaining his reason for this journey. Nicoll was about 26 when he started planning for the trek. He says "For a few years I had bleated in general terms about being bored with my routine…" I wonder what he will do now that he has completed a difficult and dangerous polar crossing, before the age of 30. What is left – outer space?
While the danger of frostbite, injury and death is lessened by all the modern advances in materials and equipment since the "golden age of exploration" it is still very real and the author did an OK job of making one feel concerned about the physical strains of the trek. Less so about the psychological one. It is hard not to compare today's adventurers, keeping in touch by cell phone and texting, and listening to music as you pull a sled to the South Pole to the explorers of 100 years ago. In this account, much was said about the strain of calling each day to arrange the restocking of supplies at the South Pole – the strain was dealing with the cost, not the uncertainty of would there be a resupply. Another big problem for the author was separation from his pregnant wife, and not knowing if he would be there for the delivery. I wont spoil the end of the book by telling you whether he made it or not, but I couldn't help compare the authors situation to the many servicemen in Afghanistan & Iraq, whose separation from their family was not self imposed.
One final note – the author is British, and had less than kind words for the American presence at the South Pole. "Many factors, including the rubbish, the joy-riding and the close proximity of the base to the site itself, represented clear signs of the territorial marking of a dominant animal. Metaphorically speaking, the Americans were cocking their national leg on a daily basis and urinating on the tree stump that was the Pole." That may all be true, but at least the American excuse for being at the Pole is to staff a scientific base, and not just because of an early mid-life crisis, to use the authors own words. What was cost to the environment to fly four men and their supplies to the Antarctic?

I'll have to agree with the other reviewers on this one. While it isn't as gripping as say, the Diaries of Scott, or The Worst Journey in the World by Gerrard, Riding the Ice Wind is a worthwhile contribution to the library of exploration. The personal angle he contributes is the most compelling aspect of the book - it may go a bit overboard on the introspection, but considering the journey these men were on, I'd say it's warranted.

The Not So Good stuff- I would have liked a bit more detail in the maps to be able to track where the group was; the maps didn't have enough detail for a newbie like me. Two, there might have been a bit more "Americanizing" for some of the terms - on p 45 I didn't know what the term "marquee" was doing describing a wedding, and on p 83 what the heck is a "car tax-disc being punched from out of its perforations? "
My biggest gripe with the book? The printing, to my eye, was a bit mussy and the paper could've gone up a grade or two in quality - it just annoys me when I can see too much of the other page on the one I'm reading.

I think it was last year I received Beyond the Horizon - a story about one man's attempt to circumnavigate the world using only man power or man-powered ways of travel. Interesting premise with horrible execution, potentially the least enjoyable book I've ever read. The writing was bad, the storytelling was bad, I disliked the author/adventurer.

I was initially concerned that Riding the Ice Wind would be a similar experience. That was quickly put to rest within the first chapter. While not the most talented writer or the most exciting trip, both manage to be decently entertaining. He weaves in emotional of the four-person group with their physical struggles and does it fairly well. I think it falls just short of my thumbs up for recommendation, but at least I didn't feel like I unfairly lost hours of my life that I'll never get back.

“Riding the Ice Wind” suffers from a terminal case of introspective erudition. Alastair is a fine writer but a reluctant explorer. There are lots of wonderful quotes and analysis from exploration history, as you would expect from an Oxford English Lit man. But there is also a lot of very personal uncertainty, and therein lies the rub, he burns a wee bit too much ink thinking it all through.

On the plus side, when I saw the route maps I was confused at first – did they really go up and over the Trans-Antarctic Mountains? They did! It starts as a hard route, but then settles into a lot of drudgery once the plateau is reached. Getting the kites to behave was another bright spot of excitement. Great color photos, with more photos available off the publisher’s author page. Sadly this book is recommended only for those studying alternate forms of transportation on the polar ice.½

If you have read Krakauer's "Into Thin Air", Tabor's "Blind Descent", Viesturs' "K2" or even "Danziger's Travels", then you should know that "Riding the Ice Wind" is nothing like them. Whereas those books maintained a certain tone of detachment, what you will in find Alastair Nicoll's book is a very personal, exceedingly intimate account of his journey across Antarctica.

In some ways Nicoll's introspection brings a new light to cold-weather expeditions as the author gives us insight into the intricate maneuvering that's necessary to 'pull it all off'. The problems of finding the right team members, doing the right training, and finally finding the funding. Not to mention the angst that comes from uprooting yourself, throwing your life into a tizzy as you say goodbye to your family -- in this case, the author has to leave his new bride who will probably have their first baby while he is gone.

In many ways though, these 'human' elements override the landscape, wretched conditions and sense of adventure in the tale. I came away from the book admiring the men and how important humor and openness was to the expedition. But I was frustrated by the less than solid grasp I had of the kiting aspect of the trip. And alas, there wasn't a single picture in the book of what the blasted kites looked like. (Though the pictures that were there were phenomenal.)

Overall, well written. It's rather apparent that the author had a top notch British education and I enjoyed his quotes and ruminations. The adventure was interesting and the perspective that the bleak loneliness produced was fascinating. But all-in-all I wasn't quite as awestruck with this book as any of the ones previously listed. It was just too angst-y and self-focused for me. Though to be honest and fair, the problem may lie more with me than with the book, because you see I'm not a fan of intimate first person adventures. And at times I felt that the personal information overrode the physical continuity of the adventure, BUT just as this makes this only a middlin' read for me, it will probably be a great 'hit' and stunningly good read for others.

Pam T~
mom/blogger