Birth is an expedition.  It starts somewhere and it ends someplace entirely different.  My family now includes Sarah and me, our German Shepherd and Ethan Torbjorn Fish, newest addition.  He's here to stay.  My life is altered.

When you're an expecting father, you get a lot of advice, both solicited and unasked for, and one of the most common phrases offered to me was, “it'll change your life.”  For me those words were the beginning and the end of it.  Nothing more was said; “it'll change your life” wasn't expanded upon very much.  I didn't know what that meant, and no one seemed inclined to fill me in.  It was like everyone was saying, “get ready,” but they wouldn't explain how.  Now I think I begin to grasp it.

The appearance of Ethan changed my life from the moment I stared at him.  Traditionally newborn infants haven't been very interesting to me.  Needy, hard to communicate with, kind of clumsy and loud.  Not very predictable--all in all they share the characteristics of bad expedition partners.  So when I just stood there and stared at him for fifteen minutes in the nursery at the hospital, and thought he was incredible, I knew something had changed.  I actually thought, “so this is what they meant.”   Smiling, I laughed inside and knew that this was just the beginning.

The second most common advice was that I should get my sleep while I could.  A veteran father would say, “get ready for sleepless nights.”  This I shrugged off and dreaded at the same time.  I dismissed it because I wanted to.  I feared it because I like my regular sleep.  Digging a little deeper, in a conversation with one of my friends, he said that you just get used to operating on less sleep.  “How,” I asked?  “You just do,” was his reply.  This is a huge change for me, and I'm making it because I have no choice.  My wife and I are a team, helping each other get what we need while attending to the larger goal of a happy, healthy family.

Expeditions change your life, and the North Pole trip will undoubtedly do the same for John and I.  Similar to birth, no one can really tell us what it'll feel like, how that will occur.   There will certainly be times of less sleep!   John and I will tolerate this because we have to in order to achieve our goal.  We take all the advice we can get.  When we're out on the ice we will smile and laugh inside and out when the words find their true meaning for us.  At some point we're guaranteed to say, “this is what they meant.”

Erling Kagge, from Norway, was the first person to reach the North Pole, the South Pole and Everest.  Here's what he had to say about polar expeditions, birth and the changing life:

“Polar explorations are somewhat similar to childbirth.  During the journey and immediately afterwards I couldn't imagine doing it again.  During the thick of it, I think of the cold, the pain, the filth and the hunger (I'm talking about polar exploration here) - yet, in the fullness of time, a new dream begins to take shape.  Its easy to forget, but let's remember that the universe wasn't created to guarantee human happiness, and the nightingale doesn't sing for our amusement.  From this I conclude that I must organize the conditions of my own happiness.  Living free will never be pain-free.  That was never the idea of it”        --Erling Kagge

Life changes.  Sarah and I chose to guide this process by having a son.  For me and John, we choose to throw in a journey to the North Pole.  The journey will change us.  When we finish the expedition, John and I will not be the same people we were when we started.

by John Huston

Tyler and I talk about the importance mental training all the time.  So what exactly is it?

Mental training is getting our minds ready for all aspects of the expedition.

How we respond to the challenges of the expedition will be the difference between success and failure.

Our mental training is a slow process that takes place over years and months.  A lot of the mental training comes from our past expedition experience.  This experience provides a critical foundation to build upon.

During the summer and fall we use several different methods to prepare our brains for the challenge ahead.

Here's a list of a few of the methods of mental training we commonly use.  We'll talk about these and other topics in more detail down in the future.

1.  Positive Visualization:  Imagining, in detail, situations that may happen on the expedition.  We then visualize the necessary steps to success.  In many ways this focused thinking increases our base of experience.  It is not the same as being on the expedition but in many ways it can be close and thus improve performance when similar situations occur.  

2.  Critical Self-Assessment:  We constantly look at our weaknesses.  We then educate ourselves through research or seeking advice.  Staying humble is essential to many aspects of the expeditionary experience, perhaps most importantly in the ability to strive to improve.

3.  Optimism:  Belief in positive possibilities.  A lot of this training happens the daily existence of working to fund and grow the expedition project.  At times, setbacks occur or goals can seem far away, but we believe strongly that if we keep plugging forward and be true to who we are, then all will work out on in end.  The path is not always known, but in many ways that is the fun part.  Optimism in our minds is not just an idea, but the hard work that makes turns an idea into action.

4.   Not Thinking (Don't Worry too Much):  In many ways thinking about unknowns and daunting challenges is a lot more difficult than experience the challenge itself.  Positive action breeds more positive action.  We don't always know exactly how we are going to get there, but we know that we will get there.  We don't know how we will feel or what we will think in the future.  The ability to let go and forget yourself, in ways can be a key to enjoying expeditions.

5.  Reading and Asking Questions:  We are fascinated by how other individuals, not just polar explorers, undertake challenges.  Although the problem itself be very different from our challenges, successful mental approaches to challenge can be universal.  We love studying this topic and hope to use our expedition as a similar resource for others.

by John Huston

Today is a special day!  The North Pole '09 family grew by a few pounds.  A few minutes after 2:15pm CST today, Tyler Fish and his wife Sarah Lakosky welcomed their first child, a baby boy into the world.  Everyone is happy and healthy. 

Tyler and I are extremely close with our families.  Their support and lifelong inspiration have had an immeasurable influence on our lives and the pursuit of our dreams.  In so many ways this expedition project is an extension of those relationships and values. 

As Tyler and I strive to tell the story of this expedition, with a focus on our mental experience, we will discuss more about the origins of each other's character and about our families.  

Long ski expeditions are more than just plodding over ice surfaces hour after hour and day after day, they are what each person imagines and experiences in their own minds.  It is this experience that we hope to share with your in the coming months.  For us it's safe to say, that in the strange, zone-like mental existence of long distance ski expeditions, few topics will cross our minds more than thoughts and feelings for our families.

More information on Tyler and Sarah's new baby coming soon

by John Huston

This expedition project is not just about skiing unsupported to the North Pole.  It is a 3-year journey with the multi-faceted challenges that include fundraising, training, networking, promoting, educating and speaking.  Although much of this work is not as exciting as skiing on the ice, the people we meet and work with along the way make experience truly special.  Whether lending us their support and expertise or working together in partnership, education or public outreach, these people make our small two-person expedition team feel a whole lot bigger.  

Tyler and I are constantly being asked 'How can I help?' or 'How can I be a part of your project?'.  We're genuinely flattered by these offers.  Below is a small list of ways in which you can join our team.  If you have any ideas contact us.
    •    Make a contribution to the expedition fundraising drive.  Click here.
    •    Assist us in making connections:  
    ⁃    Do you know people: ....
    ⁃    Who may identify with our values and mission.  If you do please let them know about our project and encourage them to join the team.  
    ⁃    Who work for companies, that may identify with our mission and values or that make products that could be used on the expedition.  If so please connect them to us, as these folks may link to potential expedition partners
    •    Host “An evening to the North Pole” small scale fundraising event
    ⁃    Invite your friends to your home or another location with a presentation and discussion by John or Tyler as the entertainment.  You provide the venue, a bit of food and drink and round up the guests, John or Tyler provides everything needed for the entertainment as well as invitations if you need them.  For more information on how to set this up contact us.  It's easy.

by Tyler Fish

Bungee jumping is crazy.  I've never done it and I'm not interested.  It seems risky, with consequences that are not so ideal.  People find that interesting, because I'm willing to ski to the geographic North Pole.   Nor can I be an explorer in the historical sense of the word; the North Pole has been reached.  Not by an American skiing unsupported, but it's been done.  This expedition, and even more difficult trips have been accomplished.  It's not a “first” to be explored.

I was giving a presentation on the North Pole '09 expedition and a guy said to me, “It's clear you're just an adrenaline junky.”  Funny.  His statement couldn't be farther from the truth.  I've never liked roller coasters, although I've always had a soft spot for the Flume, an icy waterfall and gorge in Vermont.  I guess that's why I'm going to the Arctic Ocean?  Cold and wet is okay.  Friends of mine have skydived, and I'm not sure that's for me, either.  No, it's definitely not about adrenaline.

Am I an explorer?  The historical explorers were amazing people.  They didn't just do hard things with old, by-gone equipment.  They strived and accomplished and even failed and sometimes died NEVER knowing where they were or what was next.  If there had been detailed maps or guidebooks, they wouldn't have been truly exploring!  It's a little more complicated than that, the definition of explorer, but no, I don't consider myself one of those in the historic sense.

My reality is more subtle.  I've thought about it a lot.  People have often wonder why I've worked for Outward Bound for 13 years.  I am impassioned by working with and thinking about kids.  As part of my job, I am constantly thinking about my high school and college experience.  My students silently demand that I undertake that kind of introspection.  So I've come to this conclusion, its not about adrenaline or being an explorer, it's about engaging life by following my heart and imagination.  Like so many of my expeditions, my life is a mental experience.  This thread started unknowingly when I was a child and continues today.....

Years ago my parents would drop me off at my grandparents farm in eastern Minnesota, and I would peek in the kitchen to say hello and grab a handful of grandma's homemade cookies.  As nourishing for my soul as they were, the real sustenance came from the long wanderings around the farm. Through fields, in barns, over machinery and under old trees, I would follow the old beagle that traced mysterious scents with her nose.

At the other grandparents' house on the lake, I would check the garage for any kind of tool or plaything, put it in a bag and off I went. My destination was nowhere; my path was in my imagination, my mental perspective defined my experience. There was always somewhere to go, someplace to see, perhaps something to find and of course always something to imagine.

And on it went...I walked around Europe with my parents when I was seven.  I walked miles home from school for reasons I don't remember now, but I think I just felt like seeing my world.  I just wanted to be engaged in my world.  That's the core of this.  The best life is one that is fully engaged.  I don't need adrenaline to do that, but it does make it fun and vibrant sometimes. Nor do I need to be the first person to go someplace in order to be amazed.  However, I do allow myself to imagine that no one has been here, or that it's been a long time, and that this is MY place for the brief moment.   I like to be active in my world, not just an observer of it.

So when the months fly by and I find myself on the Arctic Ocean, I will fully engage my senses and myself in my world. There will be enough adrenaline now and then to keep it interesting, and there's no doubt I'll feel as though I'm somewhere entirely unique. But unlike my wanderings around my grandparent's farm, on the Arctic Ocean and as with past expeditions, I won't have to imagine that I'm someplace strange and powerful.  I'll know.