It’s difficult enough to get to Antarctica. One team of scientists has an even more challenging goal: to drill through the frozen Antarctic sea ice — and explore the ocean beneath it. more

It’s a Sunday at McMurdo Station, Antarctica, and we’re taking a trip 25 miles away across the sea ice. more

McMurdo Station — a busy hub on Ross Island — is known as “The Gateway to Antarctica.” In the summertime, 90 percent of U.S. Antarctic participants either pass through or reside here. Some, … more

It was late in the evening when the C-17 that carried me from New Zealand back to Antarctica landed on the sea-ice runway of McMurdo Station. more

“DELAYED” read the piece of paper tacked up in the lobby of the Christchurch YMCA. “Personnel moved to flight P004: Meg Adams …” more

My life is about to change 150 degrees Fahrenheit. I’m exchanging the scorching deserts of southern Arizona for the frigid, polar desert of Antarctica. more

I know right away that Karl Hoffman is a good guy because of how happy his animals are. When we pull into the driveway of his Arizona ranch, two of his horses come out to greet us like giant, overgrown housecats. They stick their noses into the car window and chin the door. more

“Oh, I’d say I’ve lived just about everywhere in North and South America by now,” Skyfox told me. “But I’ve lived on the border longer than anywhere else.” Just crossing the threshold of Skyfox’s house, four miles north of the Mexican border in Arizona, is an experience. His walls are covered with a mixture of art and artifacts from all over the world interspersed with relics of the local wildlife. more

After just a few weeks in the Arizona-Sonora Desert, I realized I had learned the smell of water. It rains on average just 3 to 15 inches a year here; The cacti hoard the moisture, turning flowers … more

“Hold on, y’all. This might be bumpy.” The dozen passengers of the red pickup truck affectionately dubbed “the Roja” braced themselves as the road approached a creek bed in southern Arizona. more

As I sit with Andrea in her small house on Calle Chopo, talking about her family members in Maine, she suddenly looks at her watch. It is almost 7 o’clock in the evening. “Hang on,” she … more

The taxi takes us to Ana Santamaria’s house, not far from the University in Mexico where she teaches. "We just have a little bit to do today," she says to me, turning around from the front passenger seat and smiling. "Noon to 3 or so." more

Maria had just finished washing her hair in a basin in the courtyard of her house when I arrived to visit. She came down toward me slowly, using her cane. more

Teacher, are we meeting tomorrow?" asked Noe, shaking dirt from his shoes after a long afternoon of working with the Flower Growing Association. more

My hiking boots sink into the freshly tilled dirt and my camera is secured to my back with a rebozo shawl. In the Mexican village of San Francisco Uricho, I'm working the earth with a hoe and pulling up weeds. It is already late afternoon. more

If it rains enough, I can bathe. I am staying in the house of Adela Garcia Martinez, a 73-year-old matriarch in the rural Mexican village of Charahuen. A little town of 60 families, Charahuen has no running water and no sewage system. more