This past summer, PVL PhD student Alex Innanen traveled up to the high arctic (on an expedition led by Prof. Haley Sapers) to test an instrument called MAGE which may someday fly to Mars. Ironically, the name of the research base at which they were stationed is itself named MARS! Given the harsh conditions, the name is perhaps merited and many space agencies use this area to test out technologies they hope to use in exploration activities. (Image above: MARS as seen from up on Gypsum Hill. You can see the edge of Colour Lake below, and Wolf Mountain rising above the ridge, with Crown Glacier beside it.)
by Alex Innanen
As part of my PhD work, I have been working with an instrument called MAGE (the Mars Atmospheric Gas Evolution experiment), which is intended to study trace gases in the martian atmosphere (including methane). The instrument is an off-axis spectrometer, which I won’t get into detail about here, but it is able to measure very small amounts of and changes in methane and other trace gases.
In July, I was lucky enough to be able to take a version of the instrument up to Nunavut for testing – specifically to Umingmat Nunaat (ᐅᒥᖕᒪᑦ ᓄᓈᑦ), or Axel Heiberg Island, where the McGill Arctic Research Station (MARS) is located. MARS is at 79° N and change, which is not quite as far north as you can go in Canada but is pretty darn close. There were three of us going up: myself, Haley, and Calvin, a grad student from CalTech. Up north, we were joined by two grad students from McGill, whose group was then amalgamated with ours.
The reason for going so far away to test the instrument is because of two sites near MARS that are potential martian analogues – Lost Hammer and Gypsum Hill. Both are hypersaline (very salty) cold springs, which are home to methane seeps. The polar desert also has lots of polygonal terrain, which is formed from the freeze-thaw cycle in the ground and has also been seen on Mars. Polygonal terrain can also show interesting methane dynamics, with the troughs acting as a source of methane and the centre of the polygon acting as a sink.
Polygonal terrain on Umingmat Nunaat seen from the air.
But before we could get to taking measurements and making sure the instrument worked in such a remote location, we had to get there. The first leg of our journey was from Toronto to Ottawa, from where our flight would leave. We spent a couple days in Ottawa doing last minute shopping and packing and repacking out many coolers and bags of equipment and food. We had to bring not only the personal things we would need for around three weeks in the north, but also all the scientific equipment for the MAGE experiment and biological sampling that would also be done, and food to last us for our time at MARS. Altogether we had nine pieces of luggage, most of which was oversized by the airline’s standards, as well as a 40-50 L backpack apiece.
From Ottawa, we took the Canadian North airline up to Iqaluit. Iqaluit is already above the tree line and, having never been in the arctic, as soon as we set down I was blown away by the landscape, which is absolutely unlike any other place I’ve ever been. We had three hours in Iqaluit, so we left the airport to do a little looking around before it was time to get on a (smaller) plane to our next stop,
Mittimatalik (ᒥᑦᑎᒪᑕᓕᒃ, Pond Inlet). We had a brief stop there, then a quick hop to Ikpiarjuk (ᐃᒃᐱᐊᕐᔪᒃ, Arctic Bay), and then finally on to Qausuittuq (ᖃᐅᓱᐃᑦᑐᖅ, Resolute). This is where the Polar Continental Shelf Program (PCSP) has a base, and from where we would be flying out to MARS.
The plan was to spend a few days at PCSP before flying to MARS. However, this plan was quickly derailed by the weather. It was a very wet year, and aside from us, many other teams had not been able to get to their field sites because of a combination of fog, thunderstorms, and, at MARS, an inability to land the small twin otter planes because the ground was too wet. Being stuck at PCSP was not the worst thing in the world. We got to meet lots of other scientists and learn about what they were up to, go for many hikes and appreciate the beautiful arctic landscape, and pack and repack and prepare for when we eventually were able to go to MARS.
Our field team in front of the Twin Otter that took us to and from MARS. From left to right: Calvin, Haley, Louis-Jaques, Scott and Me.
On July 13, 10 days after we got to PCSP, it finally happened. The fog had finally lifted enough for us to get out, and while the ground was still too soggy to land right at MARS, we were able to land a few kilometers down Expedition Fjord. From there, us and our piles of equipment were ferried up to MARS by helicopter. The helicopters were a very special part of our time at MARS. We had originally planned to have only one helicopter day to take us to Lost Hammer, which is one Fjord south of Expedition. However due to the problems with the twin otter flights and other factors, we ended up having a helicopter at MARS nearly the entirety of our trip. Between us and another group we also had plenty of pilot hours, so we were able to make not only multiple trips to Lost Hammer but also to Crown Glacier and the much nearer Gypsum Hill springs (which are within walking distance, but when you’re bringing a bunch of equipment with you it’s nice to get a lift).
MAGE near the foot of Crown Glacier.
MARS is on one side of Gypsum Hill, overlooking Colour Lake and a view down Expedition Fjord. Once again I was absolutely blown away by the beauty, especially since when we landed the sun had peaked out of the clouds on its way around the sky. Like Qausuittuq, Umingmat Nunaat is a type of region known as a ‘polar desert’, but it didn’t seem like it. Not only was the tundra soggy from so much unseasonal rain, but it was carpeted with all kinds of artic plants – saxifrage, arctic poppies and even a kind of tree, the arctic willow, which instead of growing upwards sends its branches along the ground. As I was taking measurements with the MAGE instrument in the camp, a bee buzzed past me, and I was surprised to see something that looked like a butterfly. It was a butterfly! One of the great parts of staying somewhere with so many scientists is you get to learn about their areas of expertise, and there was an entomologist at MARS who told us all about the kinds of insects we might see.
The major goal for the MAGE instrument was to be able to bring it up to almost 80° N and turn it on – success! More success followed, and I managed to get readings at MARS, the two spring sites, the polygonal terrain near MARS and at the foot of Crown Glacier. I had a lot of fun figuring out where to put the instrument, how to best run it with its power limitations, and what might make an interesting set of readings. Not only did the instrument successfully collect data on methane abundance, but we also figured out how we might be able to improve the instrument and the data we collected. For instance, I was measuring wind direction by holding up a roll of flagging tape and seeing which way the dangling end blew. An anemometer would let us get much more detailed information about how the wind effects our methane measurements.
The MAGE instrument taking measurements with Lost Hammer spring in the background. The white cone-like mound is made of Gypsum, with the spring hiding inside.
Before I left for the trip, I was extremely nervous, not only because I had never undertaken field work like this before, but also because I’d be spending nearly three weeks in one of the most remote parts of the world and had no idea what to expect. But from the moment I set foot in Nunavut I knew I’d made the right choice to go. There were still difficulties, like when it seemed like we might never make it to MARS, or getting frustrated with the limitations of the instrument, but taken altogether not only did MAGE preform admirably but doing fieldwork helped me discover and strengthen skills I didn’t know I had. I’m so grateful to have had this experience.
