The first thing I have to express is an immense amount gratitude foremost to God for blessing us with good weather and allowing us to pass through one of the harshest environments created. The Arctic could have easily chewed us up and sent us packing back home.

The evening of 22 April we were all in such good spirits. We knew we only had five miles to travel, therefore, not only was the next day due to be our ‘summit’ day, it should also be an easy day. But of course its never that smooth sailing out here. We got a call from Borneo Ice Station saying a huge storm was coming in on the 24th, the ice was breaking up rapidly and therefore Borneo would be dismantled early this year. We had to be picked up the next day early afternoon.

On 23 April we woke up at 6am and found we had drifted south just short of a mile. We therefore had less than five hours to cross six miles, working against a southerly drift. What was supposed to be a relaxed pace turned into an adrenaline packed rush to make it to the Pole before our helicopter came to pick us up. We skied five hours with no breaks. Amazing how elusive a goal can be at the last minute.

Three miles into the ski I was exhausted, soaking wet and cold and I did not want to arrive at the Pole in this mindset, struggling, worried and heart pumping with adrenaline. I wanted to arrive there peaceful, aware, grateful, leaving a lasting memory of the scene around me as I approach the top of the world. In those moments, I could hear the voices of all the friends and family who wrote little notes of encouragement to me in my journal. I could sense a group of people who perhaps were waiting for the next blog post, telling of success. I felt the prayers of my family for my safety and how much diligent love had gone into supporting this attempt.

How then could I not step forward with a great big smile, with this huge force behind me? In those moments, it suddenly stopped being a struggle against time, and I felt like I was skiing, no, floating on wings rather than ice and snow.

The Arctic is alive, and I can’t express how magical it is. I am not the most dramatic of people but that last mile was emotional. Turns out it was similar for my teammates. I watched Rick’s eyes glow with pride as his son Taylor switched sleds with him (taking the heaviest one) and took over the GPS and led us the last mile to the Pole. I thought about how nice it must be to be able to share this journey with family. The ever committed Ian, normally up front, dropped out of site and arrived at the pole last, wanting to savour the moment in private. Keith, my fearless guide, opted to stay standing outside in the freezing cold and appreciate the experience rather than come into the tent we erected while waiting for the helicopter.

When I read the GPS reading of 90 degrees latitude, I remember looking down at my boots and trying to sense the earth moving beneath me. I then made a wide circle around the Pole and announced out loud that I had just gone around the world (bad polar humor)! We then shot a couple of flares and two rounds from the shotgun into the air.

The pole shifted slowly away from us and we stopped chasing it – instead we savored it. I dropped to my knees and looked around. Then pulled out a small ziplock bag of sand from the UAE desert that I had been using for Tayyamum and emptied the sand from my desert that I grew up with and came to be the person I am today, at the very top of the world. My mission was complete.

Each day at camp before departing I would ask Ian where he fancied going that day. He would normally answer something like, “Errrm… I don’t know. Fishing? Swimming? Nah, lets go north.” But at 1:30pm Ian asked me where I fancied going that day. I smiled and said, “Hmm. I’m kind of done with going north. Let’s go south for a change.”

I have more to say, but it is time for me to pause and recover for a day or two.

Love

Elham

That was not the only surprise today. As we drew closer to our remote destination, we seemed to encounter mankind more. We woke to find two fresh ski tracks a few feet from our tents! Two other early bird expeditioners passed us – shame they didn’t say hello.

Then in the afternoon, as I skied across a wide open pan, fur ruff caked in ice and snow, creating an arctic frame to my view, I heard a distant ‘chop chop chop’, totally different to any sound I’d heard for the past week. I turned around and saw a blob in the distance which, as it grew closer, turned into a helicopter. It was exciting as it was clearly on the way to the pole to pick someone up… and I knew that would be us soon. But at the same time it was an almost unwelcome disturbance of nature, which we all came here in search of.

The temperature was the coldest so far today, around -30°C along with windchill. I indulged in an extra layer of fleece for the day and handwarmers to prevent the frostnip on a couple of my fingers from turning into frostbite and it worked perfectly.

Today it seemed as though the Arctic was welcoming us home. We skied over mostly open pans that are flat and fast to cover, each ranging from half a mile to one mile long. And with the northward nudge we made our eight miles target in just six hours. We are now in our tents drinking hot chocolate, tea and cider, and about to eat dinner which is beef chilli with macaroni.

I have so much more to say. Somehow today all the thoughts I have been working through seemed to come to their own conclusion, and I felt like an observer watching my own thoughts pass by from the outside. The energy here is amazing, powerful, uplifting. I smiled the entire day, despite how biting the cold was and how much my right knee ached. It’s like you are not alone, not at all alone, although you are physically in a single file solitary march. Of course, being the fifth in line, I also had the silent entertainment of seeing my uber-enthusiastic team mates rush forward over snow piles and slip and disappear sliding down the other side in a great big rush to reach exactly the same destination (this is normally Ian; Rachel, Ian says you will read this and say ‘typical’).

One last hot chocolate then bed time. So excited!

Elham

The turbulent weather the last couple of weeks left a lot of broken ice and freshly frozen leads which posed a fun challenge to cross. We found a super-wide one, as wide as a highway heading mostly north, slightly northwest which was smooth sailing to ski on the bank of.

But like all good things, we paid the price for it as the lead eventually snaked around and headed west. After about ten minutes we decided to brave it and cross the lead over floaties, which are loose but large pieces of ice that sink into the ocean if you stand on them too long. We skimmed over them like frogs leaping on lily pads.

Every day I learn something more. And every day I learn I am far more capable than I expected.

During the last half hour of skiing, my body lost its ability to regulate temperature. No matter how hard I skied, my body just wouldn’t warm up, which surprised me after such a great day. I arrived at our campsite unable to think about anything other than warming up. My team mates saw this and immediately worked together to warm me up quickly. It was impressive how quickly clothes were pulled over me, a tent was put up and a stove started. I am fine now, but it just goes to show how much you have to listen to your body under extreme circumstances.

For dinner tonight Keith is testing a new creation: polar pizzas – an elegant mix of tomato paste, mixed peppers, red onion, chicken, basil, oregano, pepper, salt, mozzarella, and topped off with reindeer salami.

Gotta go eat now.

Elham

Lots and lots of pressure ridges with huge ice blocks ranging in size from a small crate to a Mini Cooper. I wish I’d been able to take more photos to share but today was a constant struggle to keep warm. By 2pm my fingers were still frozen, and I realised it was because my chest was cold which takes priority over the fingers by the body. Under my anorak there was a sheet of frost covering the front of my base layer, which I could do nothing about until camp time.

Overall, we arrived safely. Taylor and I both dipped a boot in the ocean as we crossed open leads but pulled ourselves out quickly. I picked up a little frostbite on my nose which Rick helped fix before it got bad, frostnip on the tips of a few fingers and we all took some spills on the ice and picked up aches and bruises which we are only just starting to feel.

Technically, we are more than halfway there, although no one is saying this out loud as the weather can change at any moment and push us backward, jeopardising our goal. So we continue to work hard and pray for good weather.

I am now eating a yummy quesadilla after downing a big hot chocolate! We have seafood chowder next folllowed by caramelised apples.

In some of the hardest moments to keep moving, I thought of the young people PCRF works so hard to help. I thought of the young Ugandans that PEAS helps create livelihoods for.

I am wearing a bracelet that says 90°N signifying my destination. Tejori Gems has kindly designed and manufactured these bracelets at no profit in support of the charities I am doing this expedition in support of. Pick one up if you can and would like to. All proceeds after production cost will be split between the two charities.

Bed time now.

Elham

By afternoon, the wind calmed down but had blown countless open leads in our path. I lost count along the way as we skied through slush, crossed ice islands and trusted our guides to help us across the floating bits.

Saw my first sundog which is somewhere between the northern lights and a rainbow. Listened to the ice groan as it moved underneath us.

We skied around ten miles over nine hours and netted eight miles north ground. I am very tired and about to tend to my blisters before crawling into bed.

Everyone is in great spirits and somehow we have all picked up an Italian accent from Andrea, who is normally either singing or throwing his hands up speaking to the One upstairs about his sled flipping sideways for the hundredth time.

With Keith’s help, I figured out a fuelling system that works for my stomach, so I skied with a smile the entire day. But this surely is some seriously hard work. Particularly to take breaks. Breaking for more than five minutes is impossible, and even with a four-minute break, my fingers go numb and ache badly for 15 minutes until my circulation kicks in and warms them up again.

We crossed a couple of open leads today and it was eerie to look down into it, knowing 13,000 feet of Arctic Ocean lay right there, and then hear the edges of the ice crack and fall in under my weight. We also came across some pressure ridges but managed to climb over the ice blocks quickly with a little teamwork.

So I’m learning about the great outdoors quite quickly as well. Last night I woke in the middle of the night as nature called, only to hear an alarming ‘qwuish qwuish’ noise outside the tent that, after fervent listening, I concluded might be a stealth polar bear. So I woke Keith up and sign languaged to him to listen to the sound. ‘Is that a polar bear?’ After a couple seconds Keith said, ‘No, it’s the flag,’ and tucked deep into his sleeping bag. Lesson learned. Never wake your exhausted guide up for a flapping flag!

That’s all from me for tonight. Have aches and bruises that need recovering. Bed time.

Elham

Today was a day of huge learning about what will define the success of this expedition. The real challenge is nothing like anything I had experienced during my training. My legs are strong, my endurance level is fine, but the cold brings you to your knees faster than you’d imagine, if not managed correctly.

We take a break around every two hours. But it’s impossible to break for more than five minutes without your fingers going numb. So it’s like doing eight straight hours of exercise. At the same time, it’s important to eat enough to fuel the next two hours and keep you warm. I learned this the hard way after reaching an energy low around six hours into the day. Didn’t think I could do another minute. Teamwork, encouragement and cause for laughter led me through the next two hours! Great team.Ice blocks were jetting out from underneath the snow and it looked like blue kryptonite. I found myself looking for Superman on the horizon!

That’s all for now. I must get in my sleping bag and warm up… still shivering with a wet baselayer.

Elham

Borneo was floating around N89°16′ E89°43′, so we had to wait for a helicopter to drop us off at exactly 89°. We finally left Borneo at 5:30pm and landed on the ice around 6pm. We skied 1.3 miles in 1 hour and decided to call it a day at 7pm in order to establish a routine. Weather conditions are beautiful with blue skies, light wind and temperature around -17C.

With the good weather I managed to ski and look around and was absolutely blown away by the stunning landscape. I wish I had a picture which did the details justice. It was as though all the sculptors of Europe had been resurrected and brought here to craft the ultimate masterpiece… Except it wasn’t them… Just mother nature… Just the Creator…

My team is composed of two rockstar guides, Keith and Rick, an Italian surgeon, Andrea (the silver fox), Ian, a recently unemployed British gentleman learning the merits of spending his children’s college fund, and Taylor, Rick’s 15 year old son who is opting for real life experience over textbooks.

That’s all I’ve got for now. Early start to our first full day. Bed time.

I gave endurance and strength training one last huge push.. training up to 5 hours a day. But the truth is I was already beyond physically prepared

I plowed through my shopping list, with endless hours of research on the best protein bars to fuel me while moving, the best balaclava to protect my nose from frostbite, acquiring a satellite phone, PDA, camera, flip cam, and everything else that I hope will allow me to communicate without freezing 1 day in to the trek. I would have made it with any kind of protein bars and without communication.

I worked hard at negotiating sponsorship agreements in a time when support of any sort is pretty tough to secure …

We thought long and hard about the charities I hope to help raise funds for by doing this, PEAS and PCRF, and how I could do the best I can for them.

And time was flying…

Last night friends, supporters, and fellow adventurers hosted a last supper for me. It’s a tradition of ours before an event. Objective: at the risk of becoming diabetic, make one last ditch attempt to put on a few extra kilos to fuel you along the way by eating as much junk food as possible, particularly your favorite sweet indulgences. Somewhere between the krispy kreme donuts for starters and being elbow deep in a family bucket of KFC, I inadvertently found myself mentally flashing through the most important moments of the past 6 months, moments that had fragmented in my mind in the midst of the chaos… but it then all came together. From the inspirational conversations I’ve had, be it with my sponsors or other explorers or young people, to the amount of fun that goes into planning and researching a life dream, to spending more quiet time with myself and my family… I guess it couldn’t have been any other way..

The past 3 weeks have been more challenging then than the past 5 months combined… They say completing the preparation for any big adventure, challenge, or race is the hardest part.  And indeed, flying to Dubai now looking out at the white clouds on a serenely beautiful blue backdrop, chatting to the amazingly warm crew and captain of EK 002, in my mind’s eye, I am already standing at 90 degrees Latitude. The Journey ahead, is simply a matter of executing what I know I have already accomplished over the past 5 odd months.

We are not born in perfect control of the ability to act as our will dictates. Nor has contemporary human learning necessarily helped bring the two better in line; in fact, in youth and early adulthood the two probably grow further apart. But we certainly are capable of remembering the importance of progressively bringing them together again. I say remember, because we all know it, we just seem to have forgotten.

I said this blog would be purely about my training but turns out the most important part of my training was not lifting weights or pulling tires. It was making decisions between bowing or purging when Will and Action contradicted. Without the right decisions I would not arrive at the start line with the mental resolve required to succeed. I said this blog was created to share and help the young people out there who love their homes, countries, families, and cultures, but are also a little different, curious, creative, athletic or otherwise and are looking to relate… And so I have to be explicit about this part of my journey too.

Some people bow down when their surroundings try to create a divide between their own internal Will and Action although they know full well the almost divine importance of bringing the two together. Perhaps it was too hard, or perhaps they just weren’t patient or strong enough to see it through. Perhaps it is easier to believe its ok to bow down in some circumstances, or that their particular load was heavier than everyone else’s. No one’s load is too heavy for him or her to bear, unless they believe it is.

Others attempt to purge when their surroundings try to create a divide between Will and Action. Purge their lives of all the excesses, the unnecessaries, which makes the otherwise clear space between Will and Action, cloudy.

This entire journey from the start was about purging, or cleansing in my normal life. I picked a goal that I believed I would not be successful at unless I purged myself of all the noise, internal and external, that jeapordised my focus, strength, mental resolve, and above all freedom. Such that I arrive at the start line with a light step to my foot and a light load on my shoulders. Purging involved my entire lifestyle such as eating and sleeping habits, schedules, creating personal space, negative thoughts, hang ups… Purging friendships that are fun but little more, purging futile professional relationships and focusing on the most important… But of course as with anything you invite into your life, you never really know what it fully entails until you are on the other side. I asked for help purging, and I ended up purging far more than I expected, than I thought I could.  A teacher once told me never hate anything that comes your way, that you may hate what is in fact a gift. She was right.

This one is for all the people who are and who will be strong enough to purge instead of bow down.

Elham