On the Wings of Fortune

I have never thought of myself as someone who would thrive in extreme conditions—I am just too comfortable being comfortable—but driving sixty miles an hour across the vast icy expanses of Spitsbergen on a snow-mobile, completely covered, almost mummified, in multiple layers of wool undergarments and windproof winter wear, I feel like the king of the Arctic. I find myself imagining that I am a cowboy and my snowmobile is my horse. But then I remember that there is no need to use my imagination—the place where I am is really more dangerous and exotic than even the most faraway prairie or desert. I am having the experience of a lifetime.