Arctic Journey Part One: Destination Deadhorse
I found myself in an unfamiliar situation last Tuesday.
I was on a plane packed with more than 150 people. Only three were women, however, and they were the flight attendants.
I thought I had either just enlisted – or was on one of those Con Air flights headed to a maximum security prison.
Most of the passengers were burly, sporting various tattoos and wearing hoodies or sunglasses. It was 4 AM.
Of course, the passengers weren’t convicts. The flight was headed to the North Slope of Alaska, to the infamous Prudhoe Bay on the shores of the Arctic Ocean. And they were all about to begin a two-week stint in the various work camps that dot the area.