thestar.com

Twice a year, the military resupply Alert, the world's northernmost settlement. These brave and bold folks spend three weeks flying everything from dump drunks to swizzle sticks from a base in Greenland to our boys and girls in Alert.

I jumped at the chance because I figured Alert would be a lot like Winnipeg in January, only with fewer trees and no sushi restaurants. I was right, except for the part where the sun doesn't set and it is always bitterly cold and every man over the age of 12 calls you "ma'am" until you want to scream, "Underneath this survival suit I'm a babe, you little twerp."

The first sacrifice is style. The Air Force has given me a 40- pound duffel bag stuffed with survival gear: Ugly parka, ugly pants, ugly rubber overshoes, ugly scarf, boot liners, elbow-length gloves and, quite possibly, ugly underwear. If our planes crashes and I don't die, this will keep me toasty until help comes.