Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
may 16
We've done it. After 43 days and nearly 700 kilometres, I stood on the
southern edge of the polar ice shelf. I have survived the North Pole—
the section of my run that I feared the most—and am in one piece,
as are my companions, although two of them, who fell through the
ice into the water, are lucky to be alive. Trusting that the plane would
arrive on schedule, while we waited for it we finished the last of our
rations. Between us, there were high-ives, hugs and cries of 'Canada,
we're coming to get you!'
I feel joy and relief at having so far succeeded. I am also desperately
tired and sore, and my cheeks, nose and lips are red and raw with ice-
burn. My fingers are numb; I've been told that I'll have no feeling in them
for another fortnight. There's no doubt, though, that my overwhelming
feeling, as I stood with the North Pole at my back and the rest of my run
stretching out ahead, was immense excitement. We would soon be fly-
ing to Ward Hunt Island, where Dillon would join me the next day.
I don't think I'll be back at the North Pole in a hurry.
abo
ut to
leav
e the
ice a
fter o
ur gr
uelli
ng tr
ek.
