Arctic SURVIVAL!

There are many Great Names in the role call of Arctic Survival and Exploration. Shackelton, Byrd, Peary, Steger, Nansen, Scott, Amundsen, Franklin.

In its entirety, it is a long list, the role call of the storied Great Ones, the ones who shall live in our memories forever. Yet the complete list also contains the names of other Great Ones, now forgotten.

It is a noble list, that list. A list that harkens back to an earlier, and greater, age. For they were Giants in those days. That earlier age. That indisputably greater age. That age before the devices, the EASE! of modern exploration. That world without GPS! Without MSR stoves, space age fabrics, satellite telephones, without Polar Guard, snow machines, aeroplanes, helicopters, and vacations to Tropical Lands!!!

It was a world where luxury was a caribou skin parka and leggings, that no longer contained the Caribou! Where the Bear Skin had been divested of the Bear! For, in truth, Bears do not play well with others. But that is neither here nor there.

Yes! In those days great men, and great women, braved the elements and the uncertainty that was Exploration! Yes! Exploration with a Capitol E! As you can see!

Women Explorers did I say?

Yes I did!

For there were Women! Great Women in those days! Women whose names ennoble the list of the great Arctic explorers. But do we hear of them? Have their tales been promulgated, carried, trumpeted throughout the world?

I think not.

And why is that? You ask?

I will tell you. For I, like Brutus, am an honorable man. And what is this Truth?

The Great Conspiracy.

Yes it’s true, I use the C word. For it is a conspiracy. An ancient and dark conspiracy. An evil tradition, passed down from the patriarchs, father to son, through all the ages.

The conspiracy to keep women down.

Yes! The secret pact we men are sworn to during the Great and Secret Rituals! The conspiracy to marginalize and belittle women’s accomplishments ! Yes, at Great Personal Risk, I am breaking ranks here. I must reveal the truth! For the truth will set us free! So here I have revealed the truth! Even though it may mean my life!

“And why?” You ask, “For what cause you willing to sacrifice your life?”

Why? What Cause? Why, for the greatest cause of them all!

For Equality! Yes! And for Truth, Justice, and The American Way!

I have told you, because I can conceal the truth no longer. My conscience cries out for justice! (And there is also my hope, faint though it may be, that bringing these secrets into the light of day will increase my odds of “getting some”.) Oh Hell! I wasn’t supposed to commit that part to paper Oh! Damn! And! Blast! (Mental reservation! You forgot the mental reservation you idiot!) You don’t say the final part of the statement, dad gum it, you’re just supposed to think it! Finish the dad blamed sentence using the “inside your head” voice! Curses!

Well... Hell… I guess it’s back to internet porn.

Anyway - Today, the Muse shall sing, not of arms and the man, but of ice and the man. Of those who froze solid in the Great White North. Of those who spent as many hours in Arctic Conditions as the Greatest of The Arctic Adventurers. Perhaps even more hours than the Great Shackleton, or Franklin. The Muse shall sing today of those who spent more hours shivering in subzero temperatures than ANY living outdoor writer. (Which writers shall remain nameless, though they know who they are. And who must now face a harsh truth. That they are actually wusses and wienies! Yes! For even in climbing Everest, they NEVER suffered as we suffered.)

Today I believe that our time has come! The time for us, for we few, we happy few - whoever we are, and wherever we find ourselves today - to step forward and demand, yes, demand I say! the recognition we so richly deserve!

For did not OUR feet freeze solid? Did we not don Arctic Survival Gear, every single day, ALL winter long? And also, sometimes, in the summer? Were not our fingers stiff and numb? Did not our toes fall off in our boots, to rattle around in there like dice? Fall off in boots we were told were warm to minus fifty? Minus fifty? I think not! Ha! Liars! Everyone of them! Did we not suffer oxygen deprivation? And sometimes breathe toxic and noxious fumes? (Which could explain why we believed those sales persons regarding the boots.) Did not people, yea, even our friends, yes, even our supposed friends, mock us, and laugh at us? And deride us? And make fun of us? And question our very SANITY?

Yes, they did.

But we bore our humiliation in silence. For we were more noble than they.

But today. Yes, today! I will take the first step in demanding from the world the recognition we so richly deserve! I will add my name to the list of those who survived! The list of those who willingly sacrificed their extremities, and the extremities of their sometimes (oftentimes!) foolish friends!

I will add my name to the list of the unsung Great Ones, who learned the arcane art of steering and shifting gears with one hand, while scraping ice with the other. I will add my name to the list of us who prayed, every morning, “Please God, let it start.”

For while there may be the odd atheist, here and there, among the foxholes, there were none among us.

And what is it that we did, which makes us such a select group? We few. We proud.

I will tell you. I will put my name first. Though I was certainly not the first. For there were others who suffered, I know, long before I did. And it is my most fervent hope, that, after reading this, those early ones will feel encouraged to come forward and demand the recognition they so richly deserve.

Provided, of course, they have finally thawed out.

So what was it that I, no, that WE did, which was so exceptional? What is it that makes us a proud members of this select group? Member of a group unsung in the annals of Arctic Survival? It is simply this.

From 1978 through 1988, I drove Volkswagen Vans, year round -

In Alaska.