greetings from the north

As I type this, I'm in one of the strangest places I've ever been, on my way to what will likely be the strangest business trip I ever go on. I am far enough north that the sun doesn't set, far enough north that the airports look like the yellow submarine,

far enough north that I can make friends with a musk ox,

far enough north that large chunks of ice float in the ocean forming patterns I've never seen before,

and far enough north that if I go outside and don't move or speak, I find myself faced with a silence so overwhelming it's uncomfortable. Tomorrow morning I will wake up bright and early -- "bright" being a relative term, in this case -- to board a small prop plane that will take me from Resolute Bay (where I am now) to Devon Island, where I will spend the next 10 days living in a tent.

I am a little freaked out.

So, you ask, what does one eat while camping out in the arctic? Well, actually, I have no idea. I'm hoping the answer is not caribou jerky and whale blubber, because, ew. (Not "ew" to try, really, but "ew" to subsist on for 10 days...)

I think the real answer is, while camping out in the arctic, one eats whatever is placed in front of her. Someone else will be doing all the cooking and is it ridiculous that I'm a little sad to be missing peach season?

I might be able to post again during the trip, because this camping site will be set up in that strange way where the internet is easily accessible but a pillow is a luxury. Wish me luck...