TRUE NORTH

In pictures, Greenland's backcountry ski terrain looks spectacular. In person? It's even better.

- ELI BERNSTEIN

IN MY DECADE

or so of outdoor adventuring as an adult, I've come to the conclusion that my most memorable outdoor trips leave me frustrated. Not because I'm disappointed in the experience, but because I'm bummed that I couldn't explore more of whatever mountain range, forest, or river I'm leaving to head back to the real world.

I was deep in that wistfulness as our small plane took off from Nuuk, Greenland, and rose above the limitless network of fjords, mountains, and glaciers that surround the city. Along with three other editors from Backpacker and SKI, I'd just spent five days exploring a miniscule part of the terrain that unfurled below. When we were on the ground, our environs seemed like they went on forever. Now, from 10,000 feet up, it was clear that we'd barely breached the surface of Greenland's unfathomable wilderness potential.

MY DESIRE

to go to Greenland came from a picture. I don't know where I saw it, only that I saw it just once and it depicted a skier slicing a perfect arc of a turn, snow rooster-tailing behind him, down toward a strip of ocean so deep blue it could've been the blackness of space. Ice chunks bobbed in the water like spiky white planets in the void. I knew I wanted to go there-or, more specifically, go backcountry skiing there and would somehow find a way to do it.