Robert Munro

/ Rob Munro

The Arctic Ocean! The thin line of white on the horizon is the ice-cap - Polar Bears swim from it to shore, but not until later in the season. On the right is the general store in Deadhorse, the town on Prudhoe Bay that I flew into, where I picked up my camping fuel and a bear-horn.

Deadhorse. Population: 0. But there are thousands of oil-field workers working 12 hour shifts 2-weeks on and 2-weeks off, mostly in the winter when the oil rigs can be moved around on top of the ice. In summer, it is a spread of abandoned-looking prefabricated buildings across the tundra, perched up or insulated underneath so that they don't melt the permafrost. It was an eerie place to set out from, but friendly to clearly mad tourists. From here, it is 500 miles / 800 kilometers of mostly gravel road to the next store or cell-tower, following the oil pipeline over the North Slope tundra and crossing the Brooks Range and Yukon River. I have 8 days of food strapped to my bike, a tent, and solar panels to keep my music going - deep breath and here I go!

The North Slope is mostly loose soil held together by permafrost. In the summer, the top couple of feet melt and spring to life with bright green plants, stretching a wet, spongy marsh to every horizon. Despite there being no dry land, it is considered a desert as almost no rain falls. The sun stayed with me for this first part of my journey - making laps around the horizon but never setting. The top-left picture is of Caribu, who complete the same 500 mile journey as me each year, and the top-right is a MuskOx, which is one of the largest animals that I didn't know existed.

I made my first camp on a 'Pingo', a hill with an ice-core that pushes up above the surrounding landscape, making it dry enough to pitch a tent. Those black dots, bottom-left, are mosquitoes - the Arctic Tundra has the world's highest concentration of mosquitoes, who come out every summer, perhaps to remind folk that maybe the winters really aren't so bad.

This little guy was circling my gear as I packed down my first camp. When I chased him from my food he gave me a long toothy yawn, showing me enough pointed teeth to make me hesitate for a second, before he casually trotted away, as if to say "if it means that much to you..."
Living through a 5-month winter night every year is pretty much a license to be a badass all summer.

I followed this river for much of the day, which still had some ice-sheets but was mostly fresh melt water. See that dirty puddle two pictures up? I had to get water from there the previous day.