It's the End of the World and We Know It

Ushuaia, Argentina. As much as it pains me, I would be remiss not to mention that I am part of a tour group during this adventure. It turns out that hitchhiking to Antarctica is a little more difficult then sticking out your thumb and hopping the next tug out of the harbor.  Apparently not even the mighty albatross, with its enormous nine-foot wingspan and uncanny ability to remain alight in hurricane force gales, can bear the weight of a single man from Denver. Let me tell you what a disappointing experiment THAT was--though probably more so for the albatross.

I was willing to do whatever it took to reach this frozen Valhalla, this land of icy milk and solid honey. And if that meant getting on a boat with a bunch of geezers with their socks pulled up to their hearing aids, so be it. The sad part is how many of them are blissfully enjoying retirement, completely unaware that their children have paid the staff handsomely to drift them out to sea on an ice flow. Did I mention that I am here with my father? He was issued his official bifocals a few years back but he still has some spring left in his step.

Before embarking on our journey we had the pleasure of spending a day in Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. Spread across the banks of the Beagle Channel, Ushuaia is also home to the world's southernmost restaurant, the southernmost lighthouse, the southernmost golf course, and the single most inanely repetitive marketing slogan on Earth. The city itself is nothing to crow about, but the scenery is epic. Ushuaia is graced with a rare natural beauty. Rugged snow-capped peaks give way to a brilliant green tree line, where a natural bowl cups the city gently in its hands, right at the edge of the brilliant blue shoreline. Insert any of your preferred adjectives here.

On the edge of the city lies Tierra del Fuego National Park, which is Spanish for "Fire Crotch", I think. We spent the better part of the day wandering the boggy shores amidst lichen coiffed trees, trying to keep our minds off the journey ahead. Cuddly bunnies ran to and fro, while sly red foxes nipped at their hairy little heels. It would be cute if it weren't for the fact that they ended up being lunch.

They day wore on and the sun began to set. We boarded our vessel, the Clellia II, and prepared our cabin for the voyage through the Drake Passage. Dramamine pills were swallowed. It was time we bid the City at the End of the World a fond adieu.