May 13, King William Island. Last sunset of the summer. Beginning of the midnight sun

The days were beginning to resemble each other. The icy routine, the long marches and the lack of rest pushed us to the limit. The strategy was clear from the beginning: to lighten the sleds by consuming food and fuel to move faster and faster. But time was against us. The storms had robbed us of three and a half days, and we only allowed ourselves one real day of rest. There was no margin: we had to pass 20 to 24 kilometers a day if we wanted to arrive on time.

On May 12, at 11:50 a.m., after 37 days of crossing, we set foot on the King William Island. We were leaving the sea ice behind. We hugged each other, recorded some videos, and continued without further delay. There were still 42 kilometers to go to the Inuit village of Gjoa Haven. And barely a day and a half to go.

It was then that Sechu proposed a last "summit attack": camp with only the essentials, melt snow, have dinner, sleep for just one hour... and continue. An effort non-stop to get there. No breaks. No sleep.

The final day was an odyssey. Exhaustion made us move forward like sleepwalkers. A mistake in the navigation added five kilometers more. No water, no food, just the urge to arrive.

It was not until the last day, day 39, that we would see a human trail for the first time.

Arriving at the only hotel in Gjoa Haven, with the snow already under our feet, Jennifer, the community manager, and Sam, the local search and rescue coordinator, were waiting for us. Their warm welcome contrasted with the harshness of the landscape we had left behind.

-Do you need anything? -we were asked

-Food," we replied, in unison.