We're getting ready to land now.

You can see the wheels of the plane, hit the shadow that's cast on the river.

In June, just before the summer solstice, a small plane took me to America's northern

edge.

Here we go.

I was tagging along with a handful of conservationists and amateur adventurers.

After a bumpy ride over the craggy peaks of the Brooks Range, our bush plane landed

on a narrow riverbed in Alaska's National Petroleum Reserve, known as NPR-A.

Made it.

A vast expanse bigger than the state of Maine, NPR stretches from the mountains to the northern

most edge of the state to the Arctic Ocean.

We pitched our tents beside the river.

Okay, I am setting up my tent, which involves lots of steaks because it is extremely windy

here.

And we cannot have my tent be blowing away, I would be bad.

So we're in the banks of the Utacock River.

The river tastes so good, I just filled up my water bottle.

The tent was most obvious trait was absence.

There are no roads, no trails, no service for a mobile phone.

You can hear the wind, it is breezy and the potential for it to be extremely windy is

high in the next few days.

So the risk is that you go for a little walk and then you come back and your tent isn't

...