It's 1909 on the Arctic Tundra, a massive expanse of ice and snow way up north, where

an explorer named Robert E. Perry is about to change history, or so he thinks.

Even though it's April, this far north, the temperature is a bone-chilling 29 degrees

below zero, so as Perry addresses his team of men, he's all bundled up in bare skin pants,

for aligned mittens and seal-skin boots.

Listen up, men.

As one of the world's most intrepid adventurers, I have brought you on this mission to do something

no one has ever done before.

To reach the northernmost point on Earth, the so-called rooftop of the world, the one spot

on our planet where every other direction no matter which way you turn is south.

In other words, the North Pole.

This is Robert E. Perry's eighth time trying to reach the North Pole.

Seven times he's attempted it, and seven times he's failed.

But this time?

This time I am certain I will succeed.

The pole is closer than ever.

I can feel it in my bones.

Perry reaches into his bag and takes out his sextant special tool for figuring out your

exact location on Earth.

If his eyes glued to the sextant, Perry begins to slowly walk away from his men.

All right, not quite at the pole, not quite at the pole, not quite at the pole.

When he reaches the spot a little ways off, he comes to a halt.

...