Antarctica was nothing like what I expected. I imagined a flat white dome of snow and ice—but instead I saw towering mountain ranges reminiscent of the Matterhorn and the Eiger in Switzerland. The scale and majesty were overwhelming. I was thoroughly impressed and genuinely moved by what I saw.

I have been fortunate through my employment, and later in retirement, to travel widely—58 countries and all seven continents. I have stood on safari in Africa, journeyed down the Amazon, explored the Swiss Alps, traveled the Mekong River in Vietnam, Lhasa Temple in Tibet and stood before the largest waterfalls in the world at Iguazu. And yet, none of those extraordinary experiences compare to Antarctica. It exceeded everything I have seen in my lifetime. If you or your children or grandchildren ever can go, I encourage it wholeheartedly. It truly feels like God’s hand holding up Earth from the bottom.

The wildlife was equally astonishing. Penguins, elephant seals, and leopard seals show no fear of humans because they have no predators on land—only at sea, where penguins fall prey to seals and killer whales, and seals in turn fall prey to killer whales. Strict rules protect this fragile environment: visitors must keep 15 feet from any animal, even if the animals do not always keep that distance from you. On land, only your boots may touch the ground—no kneeling, no sitting, no placing equipment on the soil. Everything is inspected and disinfected: boots, clothing, backpacks, and especially Velcro to prevent introducing even the smallest contaminant. No more than 50 people may be on land at one time.

As example, on South Georgia Island, scientists successfully eradicated invasive rats and mice that had been destroying penguin nests and eating chicks and eggs. Over three years, helicopters dropped 300 tons of rodent bait at a cost of about $13 million. Today, thanks to that effort, South Georgia supports nearly two million breeding pairs of penguins across four species. This success is why biosecurity procedures are so strict—recent outbreaks of avian flu from migrating birds have already taken a toll on some Antarctic bird populations.

Our route included the Falkland Islands, South Georgia, the South Shetlands, and the Antarctic Peninsula. Traveling with National Geographic is not a cruise—it is an expedition. You go out daily on Zodiacs to explore. Evening briefings led by naturalists review what was seen and studied that day. We had a whale go right under a Zodiac. The ship carries a maximum of 140 guests, though typically closer to 100 is ever on it, allowing for meaningful interaction and education.

Over the 22 days, our group was diverse and international, and you truly get to know people when you share that kind of journey.

One fellow traveler from Texas—who began the journey quite skeptical about climate change—told me near the end that he believed he needed to rethink humanity’s impact on the Earth. That moment stayed with me. Seeing Antarctica firsthand gives you something profound to reflect upon.

I also wanted to bring a little of Prescott and American Legion Post 61 to the bottom of the world. I did organize a cribbage tournament—singles and doubles—with certificates for first, second, and third place. Each was signed by the Ship’s Captain, Expedition Leader and myself as Tournament Official.

This journey may not have been “life-changing” in the dramatic sense, but it was without question the trip of a lifetime—more educational, inspiring, and impactful than all my prior travels combined.