CARE TO HAVE YOUR WHISKEY IN THE ROCKS?
“Damn bladder!” The thought runs through my brain as I tear myself out of the artic sleeping bag and into the frigid -5o Celsius hotel room. Tying the laces of my artic boots, I know the worse is yet to come. The toilets are outside where the thermometer shows something below -20. Even the beautiful aurora above doesn’t make things less miserable, nor the knowledge I paid $500 for this pleasure.