FMARS Sponsors	Crew Narrative July 29, 2005 No Attribution Provided Stressed. We all feel it. We all ignore it. Yet, it is an undeniable part of life as simulated Mars explorers. It silently sneaks into our activities. We find ourselves challenged by simple math problems. We become vaguely dull witted. This is a mysterious stress. It is not at all like the stresses of work and life we face every day. It is not simply the stress of overly busy days and over exertion. It has an other, harder to define aspect. We compensate and go on about our routine. Until, the routine becomes our habitual reality. There is nothing routine about our routine. None of us routinely look out a round porthole at a landscape devoid of green. Yet, now, as I write this dispatch, I am doing just that and it does not seem at all unusual. I cannot say for sure if it's the environment, the SIM, or the stress that makes what we are doing seem 'normal'. Last night a simulated Mars explorer traveled farther from the Hab than any of us had previously been. At midnight she stood on a small outcrop of very unusual rocks. Indeed, the rocks in this little (1.5 meter diameter) circle were unlike any of us have heretofore seen on Devon Island or anywhere on earth. The surrounding dome shaped hill of gray dirt and gravel itself remains an enigma. Off in the distance a brown bluff towered 100 meters above the gray plateau. Two orbs shone from the northern sky. Unlike the two moons that may appear in the Martian sky at midnight, one was the familiar, bright, warm sun. I say 'familiar' as it is familiar to us in our 'normal' lives. There was little familiar or 'normal' about it at midnight last night. Its position, high in the northern sky, belied the weirdness of the location. Further, this was the first day (or night) the sun had shown its face to this band of planetary castaways. So, there in the northern sky, it hung casting a warm and unearthly light. Nearby, and high above the north-northeastern horizon, the quarter moon stood in defiance. The weirdness of the scene was mirrored in the unfamiliar and sometimes contradictory actions of the Mars explorer. Clad in a simulated space suit, she struggled with the weight and awkwardness of her equipment. She carefully watched her every step. The soil was so fine that she was at constant risk of sinking in up to her knees. She struggled to do the familiar work of a geologist (examining rocks) in the unfamiliar way permitted by her suit. Yet, it was impossible to remain totally in the simulated moment. For a second she paused to pose for a photograph under the moon with the Hab as a tiny dot on the 10 kilometer distant horizon. A second later, she resumed her careful examination of the strange, light weight, starkly white rocks. The moment passed with the click of a shutter. Like some strange science fiction teleportation, she leaped thousands of imaginary miles, from one surreal environment to another and then back. Perhaps the most stressful part of these simulations is actually just the mental effort required to keep track of what is real. Return to Daily Index Page
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