Arriving at the Reykjavik airport, a customs officer suspiciously scanned over the nearly twenty duffle bags of gear we had in tow.

“What’s the purpose of your trip?” He asked.

“We’re doing a two week educational expedition through the Highlands”

“Oh,” he paused, “We have a lot of problems with foreigners in the Highlands.” He might as well have turned us around and sent us back to America.

Our route had us on a 160 mile trek through Iceland’s most treacherous landscape, the Highlands. This wouldn’t be my first expedition dealing with subfreezing conditions, high winds, and blowing snow, but our initial greeting established a foreboding tone as we entered the country. When you’re out in these extremes trying to perform the job you were hired for, you’re battling more than just the elements. There’s an ever lasting tug- of-war between the objective and subjective nature of these trips. The objective of an expedition normally feels tangible. You have your gear prep, deliverables, equipment maintenance etc. These things you can put on a list and check off at the end of the day. The real hurdles are the subjective parts of the trip. When you’re whisked away to a foreign land, staying focused on the task at hand becomes exponentially harder with every drop in temperature and gust of wind. This is where the inevitable external thoughts begin to seep into your work, testing vigilance and resolve.

“Are the batteries warm enough to operate? Do my snowshoe straps need adjusting? Am I getting too hot and should I open my coat vents? Did I forget to turn my air conditioner off in Texas?”

What goes into a $600 tripod, and why it matters.

Big business is messing with small-town Alaska.

An Arctic Deployment