Life Raft - Alone in Antarctica: The First Woman to Ski Solo Across the Southern Ice - page 108

I found agonisingly exciting. Once it even caused a power
cut and for months afterwards at every given opportunity I
would breathlessly relate how we had been forced to cook
on camping stoves in the kitchen by torchlight. Against the
backdrop of my limited childhood experiences, this was the
pinnacle of dramatic adventure.
This connection between snow and an expectation of
delicious excitement, coupled with stories of gallant polar
explorers, developed over time into an understanding that
Antarctica meant adventure. I came to believe that Antarctica
was somewhere you went to test yourself, not only against
nature but against your true character. I expected that the
demands of an Antarctic experience would leave nowhere to
hide, that it would expose the inner qualities of a person - both
their strengths and their weaknesses. Part of me felt nervous
that I might prove myself inept, but the risk of unearthing
uneasy truths about myself seemed small in comparison to the
excitement at the challenge and the opportunity to discover
what my personal qualities might be. I came to view Antarctica
as a testing ground that would allow me to understand my
potential and my vulnerabilities, an understanding that might,
over time, enable me to become a better version of myself.
I'm the sort of person that, when reading about the exploits
of others, is distracted by curiosity to know if I would be able
to do the same. How would I have reacted in that situation?
Would I be the hero leading the way and helping others, or the
one paralysed by helpless panic, or the one driven by terror to
make selfish decisions? It is this curiosity that motivates me
to explore where my personal capabilities and limits lie, and
which draws me to ever more challenging expeditions. I want
to know who I am. Not that I am driven to prove myself a