I didn't want to leave the tent this morning. I was so warm and cozy in my Therm-A-Rest Polar Ranger, and as the sun rose, it melted the frost off the inner tent making it extra warm and extra cozy. Still, the real reason I did not want to wake up was the upcoming slog.

My goal today was to pull my sled up and along Nordenskiold Glacier to a pass - nearly 3,000 feet of elevation gain. Now, overall the route wasn't that treacherous, but pulling a 100-pound sled up hill changes the dynamic considerably. I've often said that you can pull a significant amount of weight in a sled on flat snow. BUT it doesn't take much of an incline to make the effort required to move the sled increase exponentially.

To pass the time, I listened to an audio book, The Kingdom of Ice about DeLong's (failed) Expedition to the North Pole. I've read the book previously so part of listening was just to have background noise to temper my thoughts. However, I enjoy the stories of historical explorers and the challenges they faced. Not surprisingly, too many of the experiences are eerily similar.

About half way through the day, two snow machines stopped next to me. I was happy for the break and hadn't talked to anyone since the previous night's call with Maria.

It was Peter Schurke and his friend who I had met briefly the morning I left Pyramiden. They had just arrived.

Peter, who is from Minnesota, is the son of Paul Schurke a notable explorer of his own right. Paul and Will Steger organized what is considered the first unsupported expedition to the North Pole in 1986 by dog team. It was an incredible adventure and I would argue it is one of the last great feats of the age of exploration. Quite honestly, the technology associated with their '86 trip was closer to DeLong's late 19th century journey than my 2014 North Pole Expedition.

I spent most of the rest of the day deep in thought (what other choice do I have really). Listening to the fate of DeLong's crew as they lay trapped in sea ice for over a year. I thought about my own experiences on ice and that futile feeling of being such an insignificant person pitted against the harsh force of the polar sea.

Then I remembered how just a little progress, however small, can add up. Then, I was at the pass and over six hours of climbing was finished.

I skied for a bit but my sled quickly overtook me. So, I strapped my skis and poles on top of my sled and rode it down.

'My kids,' I thought. 'Would love this.'