By Jess Moss

The Arctic Circle has a strange relationship with the sun.  During the summer months, light touches the land at virtually all hours.  In the winter, the sun retreats, creating a frozen world of 24-hour darkness.  It was into this world that polar explorer and adventurer Borge Ousland decided to venture.  After enduring skin-freezing temperatures, Arctic Ocean swims, and the unwanted companionship of polar bears, on March 23, 2006, Ousland and his expedition partner Mike Horn became the first people to reach the North Pole during winter.  And they did it entirely on their own.

      “I’ve always been curious,” the 44-year old Ousland told the audience when he spoke at the National Geographic Society on March 29, 2007.  “To seek out has been an important part of my life.”  The Norwegian explorer is part of the National Geographic “Live!” event series.

      Ousland’s curiosity has made him a leading name in arctic exploration.  Aside from his most recent winter trek to the North Pole, he was the first person to reach the North Pole without support.  He hit this “first” twice—in 1990 with colleagues Geir Randby and Erling Kagge, then again by himself in 1994 to become the first unsupported solo traveler to the North Pole.  A year later, Ousland touched the South Pole, becoming the first to reach both Poles without aid.  He has also found the energy to explore Patagonian ice fields and climb two Himalayan peaks, reaching the South Summit of Mount Everest in 2003.

      While Ousland seems to thrive in cold climates, he claims he had no dream of being a polar explorer.  His first expedition was conceived with two friends while working as a “saturation diver” in the North Sea.  In between month-long dives 400 feet below sea level, Borge and his friends decided to recreate Fritjof Nansen’s 19th century journey across Greenland.

      “We were real amateurs,” says Ousland, remembering his use of ancient measuring devices, and cotton and wool instead of Goretex.  Yet in 1986, the trio successfully completed the 800 km trip.  Ousland’s Arctic career had begun.

      Now a lot of his funding comes from light-heartedly recounting his adventures to audiences such as that at National Geographic.  “The riveting story that he tells about his adventures—and in the face of adversity being able to redefine and achieve success—has lessons for all of us,” says Andy van Duym, Director of National Geographic Live!.  “Our audience rated Borge Ousland the best speaker of the season.”  Ousland also organizes and leads trips that bring patrons to the North Pole.

      After his initial 1990 arrival at the North Pole, Ousland contemplated repeating the journey alone.  “No one had tried to ski alone to the North Pole.  Not many people thought I’d make it,” he says.  Standing on the coast of Siberia, Ousland pushed himself onto the ice.  “The first two weeks I hated myself.  I thought I was an idiot.  I wanted a leg to break or something bad to happen,” he admits.

      Ousland followed his mantra—never give up.  Putting one foot in front of the other, Ousland made it to the top of the world 52 days later.

      Skiing across the Arctic unsupported does not mean that using technology is taboo.  Over the years of Ousland’s adventuring, he has replaced his sextant navigation device with a GPS, and he relies on his satellite phone to call home.  On one particularly draining trip, a call to his wife Wenche saved him the expedition.  “‘You’re not allowed to give up,’ she told me,” says Ousland.

      Still, Ousland knows that he cannot rely on his instruments.  “Nature is the boss, and I feel strongly that you have nothing to say out there,” he says.  “You have to be a part of it or die.”

      In Ousland’s most recent adventure, nature was the clinching factor in the difficulty of the journey.  During the winter months, “there’s no difference between day and night,” says Ousland.  “At this latitude, it’s just black.”  Ousland and Horn traveled in complete darkness, except for the 10 to 15 meters in front of them that was faintly illuminated by their LED headlamps.  “It was just like walking in a tunnel,” Ousland says.

      In these conditions, success depended on preparation.  Small battery-powered LED lights provided the 1,000 hours of light the men would need on the trip.   They slept inside plastic bags within their sleeping bags, which kept dampness from ruining their bedsacks.  Each hand snuggled within four layers of mittens to prevent fingers from succumbing to frostbite.

      Yet as Ousland and Horn trudged against the whipping frozen winds, each dragging two 155-kilogram supply sleds that were strapped to their waists like resistance belts, preparation only led them so far.  Teamwork.  Ousland knew that to complete this mission, he needed to work with his South African partner.  Horn, an adventurer who swam down the Amazon River and walked around the equator and the Arctic Circle, had the same goal as Ousland.  The two agreed, “to move forward, we need to communicate.”

      Over the course of two months, Ousland and Horn worked their way to the Pole.  Curious polar bears were never far off—sometimes emerging to rip apart the sleds and tent, other times stalking them for days at a time.  Ice was a constant threat.  The shifting ground could tear apart at any second, plunging Ousland and Horn into the biting Arctic waters.  “It was just like being in a war,” says Ousland.

      In the dark, “we couldn’t look for a route,” explains Ousland.  “We just had to go straight north no matter what.”  If straight north involved open water, in they went.  In the early days of the trip, they swam four to five times a day, relying on thick full-body protective swimsuits.  The suits kept them dry, but jumping into a liquid black oblivion full of invisible ice chunks that could crush them in seconds was another daily risk faced by Ousland and Horn.

      On some days, the darkness, the screaming winds, and the temperatures, that were twice as cold as a household freezer, were enough to make Ousland and Horn want to stay in bed.  But no movement is dangerous in these extreme conditions.  “On a trip like this you even need to use the bad days as motivation,” says Ousland.  “The intense cold is just there like a knife.  You just have to keep moving.” 

      There were little motivators along the way—listening to Jimi Hendrix on an mp3 player, watching an orange blaze slice through the blackness of the horizon in the world’s largest sunrise, and remembering that should they want to give up, the rescue helicopter would cost them $600,000.

      “I don’t believe in luck.  I believe in preparation and hard work,” says Ousland.  His determination paid off, and on March 23, 2006, after 61 days of Arctic survival, Ousland and Horn touched the North Pole.

      Now, over a year later, Ousland is back at the Pole, this time leading a group of clients on a ski trek.  And the South Pole at night?  “I don’t think it’s possible,” says Ousland.  “I think it’s suicide.”