It is minus seven Celsius with 35 km/h winds sweeping across the snowfields, sending veils of powder uphill in long, silvery tendrils that lift and dance in the air before dissipating. My expedition skis are longer than I’m accustomed to for a weekend at Blue Mountain, Ont., and the face of Amundsen on their tips, intended to inspire greatness, proves insufficient. I am struggling and admit to falling more than once.

Finally, I reach the top and am rewarded with a spectacular view of the Norwegian high plateau and the Hardangerjøkulen glacier. It is both stark and mesmerizing — a harsh Arctic landscape where sky, snow, and wind merge into an almost otherworldly beauty.

I am here in Finse with four other participants on a six-day Shackleton Challenges, skiing and camping in the wilderness, while learning basic survival skills needed, if not for an assault on the Pole, then at very least for some lessons in resilience.

“It is humbling to think we are training where Shackleton and Amundsen did back in the day. This is the spiritual heart of the exploration community,” says Louis.

Nothing can truly prepare you for Finse — a car-free hamlet with a population of nine residents total, accessible only by snow train on Norway’s Bergen train line — but Shackleton guests benefit from a 12-week training course focused on physical fitness and nutrition.

As a late joiner, I had only two weeks to prepare. To train, I slogged up and down the biggest hill in my Toronto neighbourhood and invested in essential gear: headtorch, tent boots, category 4 ski goggles.

Shackleton provides the salopettes — waterproof ski pants with suspenders and side zippers — as well as a specially designed expedition pulk jacket, skis, boots and the Titan jacket, a fortress of warmth against winter’s siege. (Though I resemble the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, it is my favourite piece of kit.)

“There is something about the snow that I just love. I like whiteouts, to be away from phones and screens when you cannot see three feet ahead,” the aspiring guide tells me.

All good people to have on your side when pitching tents on a glacier edge, I quickly learn.

My tent mate is Amelia, Shackleton’s expedition manager, is the seventh woman in history to ski solo and unsupported from the Antarctic coast to the South Pole.

“I believe there is one adventure out there for every heart,” she says. “The physical, mental and emotional impact of an expedition, the alchemy in the change of perspective it gives you.”

Amelia boils melted snow in a tin kettle, and we fill our bottles with hot water and place them at the bottom of our sleeping bags, along with our wet gloves and socks to dry.

After a dinner of freeze-dried pulled pork, we gather in Louis’s tent for stories over a shared bottle of aquavit.

“I love passing along the idea of expanding your comfort zone,” says Louis, who became an Arctic adventurer while he was still in the military and found his navigation, self-reliance and Arctic warfare skills made him a natural fit.“It’s also the teamwork,” he adds, before sharing a story of a 61-year-old he guided to the South Pole who didn’t believe she would make it. “I was humbled to witness such a monumental moment in this woman’s life.”

Amelia was a mother of four in a communications role for the UK military before she got the polar exploration bug. She trained and fundraised for five years before she undertook her first solo Antarctic crossing in 2019-2020.