A Yamaha Bravo (one of DRDC’s collection) sits outside Polaris Hall in the dark of November. (The station’s microwave dish, through which all communications flow, is attached to the building in the background.) Sturdy, simple, and followed everywhere by an ever-present cloud of blue-grey smoke from the little two-stroke engine under the hood, Bravos are a staple of life in the Arctic. Their ability to fire up first pull in temperatures as low as -35 never failed to amaze me, though the price paid for that reliability is fumigation with half-burnt hydrocarbons and a smell that can linger for days.