People often ask me if the transition back to civilization after an expedition is difficult. My honest answer is, 'no'.

Even though I'm spend YEARS of my life in a tent on one expedition or another, I've still spent more time in a conventional house and bed. Driving in a car, going to the grocery store.... I have done these things thousands of times, if not more. The odd thing for me isn't necessarily being in 'civilization' that is so odd; rather, it is the ease at which things happen. Eating, sleeping, taking off a jacket, going to a restaurant... We have built a surprising amount of infrastructure to support comfort.

Not that I'm complaining. After all, I'll never take a chair for granted ever again. But on an expedition to the North Pole every single thing that we do directly contributes to our ability to be warm an

But I miss my family too. It's my daughter's second birthday today. Of course, she'll never remember if I was there or not, but I know and that's a hard burden to carry around sometimes.

The helicopter landed in Barneo and we promptly headed to the dining tent to thaw out. We shed our myriad layers and were soon uncomfortably hot, our bodies now fully adjusted to the cold Arctic temperatures. Later, I would learn that it had gotten as cold as -44 degrees while we were on the ice.

In what can only be described as one of the oddest things I've ever experienced, a blues and rock band had been flown in from Lonygearbyen to play for the staff and visitors at Barneo. After lunch, I sat and listened Creedence Clearwater Rival sung with a tinge of Norwegian accent. The band would play into the early morning hours but I left early to relax in the bunk tent. Inside, it was easily 100 degrees and I had to open the door wide and still sleep on top of my sleeping bag.

The next morning Victor said I looked like a high school science project - splayed like a frog on the dissecting table. I, of course, was fast asleep.

The Antanov arrived on schedule and we watched the crew load our sleds and other gear from the station. Walking up the stairs to the plane, I stopped briefly to give one last look to the ice and snow. I know enough now not to say good bye to the Arctic Ocean and instead said quietly to myself, 'until next time.'

Deplaning in Longyearbyen, it was a balmy 20 degrees F. Snow was melting on the runway. We shared a taxi with another North Pole team and their guide, Dixie Dansercoer, a Belgian polar adventurer who were a day and a half behind us on the ice. A young polar bear had raided their camp one morning and tried to run away with one of their sleds before they scared it off. Where we had seen the Arctic fox tracks (who follow polar bears), Dixie's team had seen the actual bear!?!

Victor, Bachir and I agreed to meet for dinner but before going to my room I spent several hours, drying, cleaning and organizing our gear. I managed to get in a quick shower as well, which I'm not going to lie, felt really good.

Bachir and I walked into town together and met Victor at the restaurant where we had a celebratory beer and dinner. We laughed and talked about our trip and the cold.

When it came to ordering, each of us ordered the same thing: hamburger and fries. But as the server walked away and Bachir called him with one final request, 'and an extra plate of fries.'

Image: North Pole air taxi.