Final Thoughts

Dear Carol,

In the end, I come away from Prudhoe Bay with two strong and contrasting impressions. The first has to do with the town of Deadhorse itself. One is overwhelmed by the background whine of heater fans and blowers, the constant smell of diesel fumes, the desolate look of the town, and the improverished nature of human relationships found here. It is a foreign place, to be sure, but not in the way I imagined it would be. There is something of the familar and common here, too. As if we have all lived our lives like this at one time or another. We have all felt the loneliness, the cold, the utter lack of joy. And yet most of the people here will be coming back again, over and over. For money, I guess. Certainly not because they are nourished here.

Deadhorse SUV parked in front of the Prudhoe Bay Hotel.

Typical Deadhorse Diesel engines are never turned off in Deadhorse unless you will be inside for longer than a couple of hours, and then they must be plugged into engine block heaters. As a result, the stench of diesel fumes is everywhere. Combined with the constant whine and howl of heater fans and blowers, the lack of amenities, the absence of normal human relationships, the cold, you have an impression of a place you can't wait to leave. But, of course, most of the residents will be coming back again in two weeks time. That's the part I can’t quite get over.

My second impression is that the Arctic Ocean is unremittingly white. White beyond white. I've never been so grateful for the colors green and brown as I was on the trip home. Occasionally the ice is broken up by coal black open water leads, twisting off into the distance, but mostly you get the feeling of infinite space and loneliness. You find it impossible to believe animals can make a living here. You gain new-found respect for the polar bear. You understand why the animal must be a fearsome hunter.

And then you land on the ice and the beauty of its surface, where it has been thrown up into the air by forces that are hard to imagine, is breathtaking, the colors impossible to capture with your camera. You only hope that if you remember nothing else about this trip, years from now, you will remember the subtle color of the sea ice. You will remember what it was that drew you to the Arctic in the first place.

Ocean Ice: The color of ocean ice is sublime. I doubt it can be captured with either words or camera. When I first saw it close up it took my breath away. I couldn’t take a picture fast enough. It is still the image that lingers in my mind the longest, the one I think about first, when I think of coming to the Arctic.

And now I am coming home, and can’t wait to get there.

Love,

Dave