And at the risk of sounding sexist, which I’m not, I would only ever venture out onto the polar ice with other women. We’re more flexible (which is stronger than being rigid). We are more in tune with our own intuition (which is crucial when there is little else to rely on). We are vain—which means we take better care of one another. And ultimately, we set off not to stagger, starve and conquer, but to enjoy a voyage that is not only physical but psychological and spiritual too.
Epilogue: When I first arrived at the tiny Inuit outpost of Resolute Bay in the North West Territories of Canada, all the Inuit menfolk gathered about the airport to see the latest polar team arrive. We were but one team out of nine other all-male teams. The spectacle! Twenty girls and women arrived in pretty red flying suits, and provoked gales of laughter. Seventy-four days later we reached the North Pole (another polar first—the longest expedition there on record) and only two other teams made it. An Inuit woman I had befriended before setting off came up to me and thanked me with words that made it all so worthwhile: “since your achieved this feat, all our menfolk have been showing us a great deal more respect.”
Q: What qualities do you have in common with other females who are changing the world?
A: I wouldn’t put myself up there with “women who change the world.” Hopefully I leave some modest footprints behind me that inspire and evoke the importance of vision and courage in my limited circles.
But I might indulge in the idea that I might share with such women an almost childlike ability to dream—to focus on this dream, have the courage to stay committed to it and be prepared to work hard, suffer if necessary, for the harder the struggle the greater the reward. And perhaps most of all, a ready sense of humor (no one else around to laugh when you’re solo).
