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So I'm pretty obsessed with the heroic age of Antarctic exploration. I'm telling you I eat these stories up. If you are completely clueless as to what I am talking about, I suggest you submit yourself to some mindstunning-punchinthefaceshocking-legendary stories of the men who participated in these exceptional adventures during the early 20th century. You know why these stories are so much more badass then summit attempts on Everest? Because sailing to the Antarctic took months and months and months, following which men would often have to overwinter, freezing their boat into the ice shelf while risking the chance of there vessel being spliced open by pounding waves and crushing ice. They spent years on one expedition alone. There are some crazy stories of the adventures they had, some for example from the legendary Irish explorer Tom Crean (above). Apparently during one expedition he and his buddies got caught on broken ice without realizing it while overnighting on an unstable shelf. He told his companions to hold tight while he went for help. He began to jump ice sheet to ice sheet, a process which took hours. He eventually made it back to the main ship and a small boat was sent out for rescue. On another occasion, during an attempt traverse to the south pole, Crean and 2 companions (Crean at the time was stricken with snow blindness) lost there way and found themselves situated on the top of the Schalkton ice falls (600 m drop). They decided to get into one of the sleds they had been towing and ride in down the falls. The alternative was a 3 day detour which was not viable as they were low on food. So the 3 of them ripped down the falls, were flung over a wide crevice, and slammed into an ice ridge. Amazingly all of them escaped unscathed! ALSO Why is he holding a pile of puppies you ask?? He snuck a pregnant dog onto the HMCS Endurance during one of his last expeditions which gave birth to this lot, which made everyone happy (obviously). He was always trying to lift everyone sprits on these journeys and keep morale high.  He retired in Ireland where he purchased a pub (south pole inn - true story) where he lived a modest quiet life until his death. Whaddaguy

Byron Hurt, Why I Am a Male Feminist