Originally published in the June 1988 issue of the Collector and Emitter.
(Special to C&E)
NORTH POLE – Bitter south winds (they would have been north winds if the party was anywhere else) and temperatures reaching 100 below greeted Q. R. Zedd, greatest DXer of them all, as he began his DXpedition here.
Zedd, A5A, had never met such conditions.
“I have never met such conditions,” Zedd said.
But the weather was only half of it.
Zedd’s team included Tondelayo, his blond, nubile bride; son Zepp, age 1; Momma Zedd, of Mena, Ark., and Homer Klott, world-class nerd. One pool reporter from Collector & Emitter was allowed to go along.
Here is the moment-by-moment account of the first hours of the great North Pole feat:
1705Z — We approached the North Pole, flying low over ice floes and polar bears, in the sleek jet aircraft of Zedd’s own design. Zedd was at the controls. Momma Zedd was in the right seat. Tondelayo, Zepp, Homer and this reporter were in the back.
1712Z — “We should be almost there,” Zedd said. He reduced power to the engines. The plane sank lower.
“These low clouds are tough,” the great man muttered. “Momma, give me six degrees of flaps.”
1717Z — We broke out of the low-lying clouds into marginal visibility.
“Gadzooks!” Homer screamed, looking out a side window. “Shazam!”
“Dirty tricks!” Zedd cried, applying power to slow our descent.
Below us, to our horror, we saw a huge encampment: a half-dozen large Soviet-built aircraft and three helicopters; two long rows of insulated military tents; a couple of half-tracks and one large quonset-type building, and uniformed men scurrying around like brown ants on the infinity of glaring white ice.
A Russian flag crackled in the strong, cold wind.
1718Z — A voice broke in on our radio frequency.
“Hey, Zapp, Sipp, whatever your name! This is Badenov, greatest DXer in world! Keep moving, capitalist lackey pig, you is QRMing great Russian radio sportsman signals down here on North Pole!”
“That cowpie,” Momma Zedd rasped, reaching for the microphone. “I’ll tell him -”
“No, Momma,” Zedd replied coldly. “I’ll handle this.”
So saying, Zedd thumbed the mike. “Badenov, this is Zedd. “What are you jerks doing down there?”
“Is doing DXpedition, Zitz, what you think, boy? Is we got here first, is room for only one at the top, hah? Har har! Go back home, eat your hearts out, boy! Us humble Soviet amateur expedition is got here ahead of you.”
Zedd maintained silence as we made a wide turn, surveying the installation, which covered about six acres.
“Oh, Q!” Tondelayo cried. “What will we ever do?”
“Calm down, honey,” Zedd said.
“Momma, fly the airplane. Something don’t look right here. I got to make some calculations.”
1722Z — Zedd began poring over charts and making multiple compass readings, punching everything into his HP calculator.
1735Z — “A-hal” Zedd cried in triumph. “Just as I thought! Gimme them controls, Momma!” And he banked the plane sharply, headed off to portside.
1736Z — “So long, Zoppl See you later, capitalist pig swine lackey oinkl Badenov has won at last! Har har har!”
Zedd said nothing. His jaw was set like John Wayne. Tondelayo wept silently. Homer fell out of his seat into the aisle.
1744Z — Zedd told Momma to lower the flaps and we began a descent toward an icy glare below.
“But what good does it do us to operate from away from the North Pole?” Momma cried.
“We ain’t,” quoth Zedd. “This is the North Pole, right here.” And the gear touched down gently in a perfect landing.
“Are you sure?” all of us chorused, like in the old Hardy Boys books.
“Yep. I am. — See? There’s the sign.”
And there, out the starboard window, was the official ARRL sign that read NORTH POLE… RIGHT HERE. And an arrow pointing to the ice where the sign pole was stuck.
“But,” Tondelayo asked, “how could the Rooshians make such a mistake?”
“They missed by several miles,” Zedd told her calmly, braking the plane to a stop. “They often do.”
“But why? How?”
“Well, you know how they always lean to the left.”
1800Z — Plane doors are open. Equipment is being unloaded. Homer falls down, breaking his blue plastic whirlygig. Temperature is minus 65. Wind is 44 knots. Zepp has wet pants. Tondelayo uses bunsen burner to thaw them enough to change them.
1805Z — The great man tells us, “Let’s get cracking. Tondelayo, put up the tent. Momma, assemble the radio gear. Homer, put up the tower and beam. KU5B, fuel the generator. Remember, this is history, so don’t screw up. Wake me when we’re ready to go on the air.”
Zedd zipps up his sleeping bag. Everyone else begins feverish work.
1900Z — Tondelayo wakens Zedd. Zedd starts checking equipment setup.
1902Z — Zedd finds that Homer has installed the beam on the ground end of the tower. “Why did you do that, you dadblamed idiot?”
“Wal, Mr. Zedd, we are at the North Pole, right?”
“Right. So what, you moron?”
“Wal, ever’thang is south of us, right?”
“Right. So ..?”
“So iffen we wanna shoot our sigunuls down below where we are at chere -”
Zedd groans. “We naturally put the beam on the bottom of the tower so it’s a shorter distance. Right?”
“Shazaml”
1932Z — The beam has been reinstalled on the top of the tower. Homer falls in the latrine pit he has started to dig. He screams for help. Nobody rescues him.
1939Z — Zedd sits down at the mike. He touches up the loading and keys the mike. This is A5A from the North Pole, listening up ten, A5A, A5A, QRZ?”
It had begun in fine style.
(To be concluded.)
— KU5B