May 13, 2014
On getting home (on being home coming soon)
When Merritt was born I snapped my fingers and told Maria to remember this moment when he graduates high school because it will feel that all that time has passed in an instant.
On day three or four of our North Pole expedition, I thought the same thing. While it is dangerous to think about anything even remotely close to the end of an expedition at the beginning, I knew even at that moment that successful or not, I would (hopefully) arrive back home and my experiences on the Arctic Ocean would have passed like the blink of an eye.
I can say that now of course, because I am home and those 53 most difficult days of my life are tucked safely in my memory. Of course, my body is still sore and I feel worn out, but all those crazy events are starting to seem like more of a dream than reality.
Somewhere between the North Pole and Boulder, I got onto a weird sleep schedule. I can't quite pin point why, but it may have something to do with the four and a half hours of sleep I'd been getting the last 12 days of our North Pole expedition (less the last two) or the nearly 30 hours of sleep after arriving at the North Pole waiting for the weather to clear and our pick up flight. It could have been the two hours of sleep in Eureka - my first night in a bed in nearly two months (the room was too hot, go figure), an all nighter in Resolute packing and organizing gear or the two hours in Ottawa.
Needless to say, I took a nap shortly after getting home. Merritt was taking his nap, too so I thought why not. I collapsed for a couple of hours and woke to the stress of the North Pole. I was back on the ice drifting south and there were leads everywhere. It took me quite some time to figure out where I was and that the expedition was actually over, but I was surprised at how vivid images were and the palpable feeling of fear. To make matters worse, I had the same exact dream again that night. Waking up in a cold sweat, I felt total relief after finally realizing I was in bed and not my drysuit.
I was nervous about seeing Maria and Merritt at the airport. I had thought about our reunion hundreds of times over the past two months, but after the plane landed in Denver I began to get nervous. Would Merritt even recognize me? When I left he could only say a few words and now, Maria had told me, he could pretty much repeat any word (more or less). There was a film crew from Animal Planet. too which made me even more nervous.
In the end, Merritt hadn't changed as much as I had feared. After a minute of uncertainty we were hand in hand, dad and son, going up and down the escalators, running and jumping and laughing. And even though, we still had to get our bags and drive home, I made sure to enjoy every second.
Image: Sleeping on the twin otter on the way back from the North Pole - one of six to get home.
On day three or four of our North Pole expedition, I thought the same thing. While it is dangerous to think about anything even remotely close to the end of an expedition at the beginning, I knew even at that moment that successful or not, I would (hopefully) arrive back home and my experiences on the Arctic Ocean would have passed like the blink of an eye.
I can say that now of course, because I am home and those 53 most difficult days of my life are tucked safely in my memory. Of course, my body is still sore and I feel worn out, but all those crazy events are starting to seem like more of a dream than reality.
Somewhere between the North Pole and Boulder, I got onto a weird sleep schedule. I can't quite pin point why, but it may have something to do with the four and a half hours of sleep I'd been getting the last 12 days of our North Pole expedition (less the last two) or the nearly 30 hours of sleep after arriving at the North Pole waiting for the weather to clear and our pick up flight. It could have been the two hours of sleep in Eureka - my first night in a bed in nearly two months (the room was too hot, go figure), an all nighter in Resolute packing and organizing gear or the two hours in Ottawa.
Needless to say, I took a nap shortly after getting home. Merritt was taking his nap, too so I thought why not. I collapsed for a couple of hours and woke to the stress of the North Pole. I was back on the ice drifting south and there were leads everywhere. It took me quite some time to figure out where I was and that the expedition was actually over, but I was surprised at how vivid images were and the palpable feeling of fear. To make matters worse, I had the same exact dream again that night. Waking up in a cold sweat, I felt total relief after finally realizing I was in bed and not my drysuit.
I was nervous about seeing Maria and Merritt at the airport. I had thought about our reunion hundreds of times over the past two months, but after the plane landed in Denver I began to get nervous. Would Merritt even recognize me? When I left he could only say a few words and now, Maria had told me, he could pretty much repeat any word (more or less). There was a film crew from Animal Planet. too which made me even more nervous.
In the end, Merritt hadn't changed as much as I had feared. After a minute of uncertainty we were hand in hand, dad and son, going up and down the escalators, running and jumping and laughing. And even though, we still had to get our bags and drive home, I made sure to enjoy every second.
Image: Sleeping on the twin otter on the way back from the North Pole - one of six to get home.