Bethel, Alaska, in January is a bleak and frigid place. A half-hour seaplane hop from the Bering Sea, a flat expanse of snow and scattered weather-beaten buildings sits below a blue-gray sky. In a small house on the edge of town, a burly tattooed man in his underwear is getting ready to be buried in ice.

Michael McCastle, 34, sits in a wooden chair in the corner where the kitchen meets the living room. His seat is surrounded by a frame of PVC pipes, with four walls made of clear plastic wrap. Two fit guys with shaved heads are tearing open bags of ice and emptying them inside the frame.

McCastle disappears from the feet up. His breathing slows and deepens when the ice reaches his arms, which are crossed on his chest over a heart-rate strap. McCastle stands six foot two and weighs 225 pounds; 60 bags aren’t quite enough to reach his shoulders, so the men bring in buckets of snow from outside to finish the job. A recording of a crackling fire plays over a speaker.

It’s hard to imagine a more low-key, DIY setup for an attempt at a potentially lethal world record. No spectators, no paramedics, no TV cameras. Just a few buddies trained in CPR and a piece of paper with emergency instructions that McCastle wrote for his friends, with details like: “Core temp 82.4 F—Severe heart rhythm disturbances are likely and breathing may stop at any time. I’m likely dead here. Throw some shades on me—Weekend at Bernie’s.”

McCastle works as a personal trainer and mental-strength coach for Paralympians, elite rugby players, and adventurer Colin O’Brady. He has been building toward this attempt for eight years. At 1:17 P.M., he starts streaming on Instagram Live. In a halting voice, he explains that he’s trying to break the record for the longest immersion in ice, which currently stands at two hours and 34 minutes. The larger goal is to raise funds for the Brian Grant Foundation, which works on behalf of people with Parkinson’s disease—people like McCastle’s father, Raymond, who died from complications of the illness in 2014.

“One of the symptoms that he experienced was rigidity, the feeling of being frozen,” McCastle says into the camera of his phone, pausing every few words like he’s out of breath. “I can remove myself from this ice at any time, but people who suffer from Parkinson’s disease don’t have that luxury.”

The timer starts. Two hours and 35 minutes to go.

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Once upon a time, planning an outdoor venture meant you had to make a simple choice up front: land or water? Now the wet/dry divide is starting to crumble, thanks to recent advances in lightweight pack rafts.

Small enough (in theory) to fit in a backpack, but tough enough to ferry you and your gear across a lake or down a mellow river, these one-person inflatables are opening up new horizons in the backcountry. But is adding a float option to your next backpacking itinerary worth the added space and weight? We took the latest models for a paddle to find out.

Advanced Elements Packlite ($299)

Best for: All-around recreation

Advanced Elements knows inflatable kayaks: its lineup includes 13 models, one for every year the company’s been in business. The , the baby of the family, was one of the burliest boats in our test, with three separate air chambers, including a full inflatable floor.

The Packlite looks and handles more like a kayak (a fat, stubby one) than a raft. It’s comfortable to sit in and paddle, and tracks surprisingly well. Twistlok and high-flow air valves make inflation and deflation quick and easy. There’s a molded-rubber handle in the pointed bow for easy manhandling, and nine D-rings around the edge that serve as attachment points. The nylon-mesh carry bag attaches to three of these up front, turning it into an on-deck gear bag for small items.

All this utility comes at a price: the Packlite was the heaviest model in the test, and the largest when packed down. So it’s not for ounce-trimmers, but of all the models it’s the one I’d choose for straight-up fun paddling. Throw it in the car for a day at the lake. On the trail, you’ll probably have to forego a few other luxuries to fit it in a pack.

Size (inflated): 94″ x 35″; Size (packed): 11″ x 11″ x 5″; Weight: 4 lbs; Capacity: 250 lbs.

FlyWeight Designs CrossFlyte ($299)

Best for: Rugged use

The was conceived with backpackers and fishermen in mind, and it shows in the tough, utilitarian design. The raft is made of two separate pieces: an oval inner tube surrounded by an outer skin/floor.

The two-layer construction protects the inner tube from all but the worst damage, be it rough stream bottoms, sharp sticks, or angry fish. And if you damage either piece beyond repair, you only have to replace that piece, not the entire raft. The CrossFlyte has four attachment points on the bow, plus two nylon oarlocks.

That’s where the bells and whistles end. As a result, the CrossFlyte feels like a work in progress. The inner tube is fat—12 inches in diameter along the sides, expanding to 16 inches at the stern—so even though it’s a big raft, it’s not nearly as roomy inside as you’d expect for something with a 310-pound capacity.

The CrossFlyte tracks moderately well, but puts you in a deeper paddling position than other models (especially since the floor has a tendency to sag), making it less confortable for small folks to pilot. It’s also relatively heavy and bulky when packed up.

FlyWeight plans to develop more outer skins for different uses, like a floorless one for fishing and a tougher one with a built-in spray skirt for whitewater. Until then, I’d save this one for the Class II rapids, piranha-infested waters, or car camping.

Size (inflated): 73″ x 40″; Size (packed): 13″ x 8″; Weight: 3 lbs 8 oz; Capacity: 310 lbs

Klymit LiteWater Dinghy ($225)

Best for: Gearheads

Small oval rafts tend to be hard to control and paddle because your center of mass (toward the back, near your butt) usually doesn’t match up with the center of buoyancy (in the middle). And with sagging floors and no back support, they’re nearly impossible to sit upright in.

Enter the , which at first glance looks like some kind of weird, overinflated pool toy. But under the orange-and-azure color scheme is one thoughtfully designed piece of gear. Klymit, a company known for fine-tuned inflatable sleeping pads, enlisted pro kayakers and pack rafters to help design its first raft out of 210-denier ripstop polyester.

A fat rear end and narrow front section moves the center of buoyancy back under the paddler. The floor is attached midway up the sidewall, not at the bottom, which lifts you higher out of the water. Add a small inflatable seat, and you have a raft you sit on more than in, with plenty of room along the sides for paddle strokes.

The catch? If you’re my size (6′), there’s really no room inside for anything but your legs, so you’ll have to all luggage on your lap. The low sidewalls means water splashes inside easily, and I found that, despite claims to the contrary, the LiteWater tracked the worst of the four test models. Even after some practice I was still yawing all over the Columbia River outside Portland.

Still, the LiteWater is light, packs up small, and the stuff sack doubles as an inflation bag, thanks to a valve that connects directly to a one-way valve on the raft. (Your lungs will thank you.) Ergonomics isn’t everything—and more space would be nice—but this is one comfy and unique little inflatable.

Size (inflated): 76″ x 45″; Size (packed): 9″ x 4.5″; Weight: 2 lbs 3 oz ; Capacity: 350 lbs

Supai Flatwater Canyon II ($299)

Best for: Minimalists

With a design honed on trips down the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon, where every ounce saved means one less to hump back out of that deep, steep ditch, the is a watercraft stripped down to the bone. A single layer of lightweight nylon (available in red or black) is welded using a process that makes the seams stronger than the fabric. The seven attachment points around the edge are extra tabs of material with holes through them, and there’s a single air chamber.

One clever design feature is the attached hose valve that lets you fine-tune the inflation while you’re still floating, so you don’t have to pull over every time you need to add or release air when the air or water temperature changes.

What you get: a 24-ounce raft that packs down to about the size of a widemouth Nalgene water bottle. I wouldn’t take it down a snag-strewn glacial stream in the Yukon, but the ultra-simple Flatwater is hard to beat on, well, flat water. (And for what it’s worth, the kiddos took to the traditional oval “raft-y” design the quickest, playing Whitewater Madness in the campground stream in no time flat.)

This is what a pack raft should be: small and light enough to bring along “just in case,” but useful enough to get you to some very cool places.

Size (inflated): 68.5″ x 42″; Size (packed): 8″ x 4″; Weight: 1 lb 8 oz; Capacity: 250 lbs

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Here's our problem with safaris: They're billed as authentic, up-close-and-personal wildlife experiences, but by Land Rover–bound definition, some are as canned as any Club Med junket. Closer to the real thing is Kiba Point, a brand-new luxury safari lodge in the heart of Tanzania's Selous Game Reserve. Selous is the largest game park in Africa, an undisturbed, 19,000-square-mile chunk of rivers, lagoons, and bush. It's also one of the rare African parks to permit walking safaris. Kiba visitors can hike from four stone-and-thatch cottages through dried-up riverbeds to stalk elephants, crocs, and any of the reserve's other 400 native species without the distractions (and assurances) of four-wheel drive. When the safari is over, cool off in a private plunge pool with a sundowner drink in hand. And because Kiba only books exclusively (a group of ten rents it out at once), there's no chance of encountering pith-helmeted impostors. $5,000 per night, all-inclusive, for ten people;

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As I often remind my skiing friends, since snowboards lock your feet to one object, we knuckle draggers don’t have to worry about coming out of a yard-sale tumble with a knee or two bent in the wrong direction. We do, though, have to take care with our wrists, which, after a day of face-first falls, can end up bruised, wrenched, or worse. According to snowboard company Level, over 30 percent of all snowboarding injuries are to the wrists.

Level Fly Gloves

Level Fly Gloves

It was with this statistic in mind that I strapped on a pair of Level Fly Gloves for two days of boarding in Winter Park, Colorado. Besides looking burly on the outside, all tough nylon and Kevlar fingertips, the Flys have an extra level of protection inside: a Biomex Plus wrist guard attached to the thumb of each inner liner, consisting of two plates connected by a hinge. The guards cover the heel of the palm and the bases of the radius and ulna.

Putting the Flys on with the guards in place (you can take them out if you’re feeling lucky) and tightening down the Velcro wrist straps feels a bit like putting on a splint, which seems to be the whole idea. Level and the Swiss and German Snowboard Associations co-sponsored a four-year study at the superbly named Klinic Gut, a bone-and-joint-surgery center in St. Moritz, which found that the Biomex wrist guards made wrist injuries 7.5 times less likely.

I did feel a bit more indestructible going down the slopes and through the trees wearing the Flys. It was like wearing a helmet for the first time: one part of your body is suddenly much less fragile. Pitch a header on the flats? No problem. Clip a spruce—and laugh! I started to reach out and whack branches in passing just because I could.

There’s a tradeoff in a bulkier feel and decreased mobility. You can’t grab a backside air or scratch your neck as easily. I tried taking the guards out and felt liberated but exposed, abruptly aware of all the delicate bones that connected my hands to my arms. I put them back in.

Along with the wrist guards, the Flys boast a soft nose wipe and goggle cleaner—two different features, fortunately—on the right hand. They’re warm, waterproof, and breathable thanks in part to “air exchanger vents,” little mesh-and-plastic nipples made to keep your paws from overheating. The inner gloves come out for climatic flexibility.

So the guards must have worked, since I’m typing this review right after two solid days of mountain thrashing. If you’re safety-minded, or you don’t like sacrificing feel or movement for security, then stick with your old mitts.

If you’re prone to falling, though—either just learning to snowboard or inclined to, say, jump a cornice sight unseen even though your girlfriend is standing right there loudly voicing her refusal to drag your broken body out of the backcountry on her own, no matter how nice the bindings you got her for Valentine’s were—then the Level Fly is for you. $85;

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In the early nineties, you couldn’t turn around without spilling a microbrew on some goateed guy’s flannel. Replace that six-pack with a bottle of brandy made from organic pears and you have the latest trend in happy-hour chic: craft distilling.

Looking for ways to spice up your holiday liquor cabinet? Here are a few places to start.

With liquor more popular among 21-to-27-year-olds than beer, and annual sales of spirits up $13.7 billion since 1999, craft distilleries have both fed and fed off of the boom. The American Distilling Institute lists 66 of them nationwide, up from an estimated five in 1990. Like microbreweries, these operations favor small batches, hip bottle art, and nuanced flavors, like the prickly pear vodka from Arizona High Spirits Distillery, in Flagstaff. “We wanted to do something that was uniquely southwestern,” says co-owner Dave Williamson, “and prickly pear fruit is the gem of the desert.”

While aspiring distillers often find themselves up against arcane Prohibition-era legislation governing the production and distribution of liquor—it takes an average of 15 months to make it through federal and local licensing procedures—the returns can come quickly. Spirits are ready for bottling in a matter of hours, versus weeks or months for beer and wine. Flag Hill Winery, in Lee, New Hampshire, recently turned to apple vodka after eight years in the wine business. “It’s faster and easier than winemaking, and it can be more profitable,” says president Frank Reinhold.

It also looks better in a martini glass.

BOTTLE ART

Looking for ways to spice up your holiday liquor cabinet? Here are a few places to start.

ARIZONA HIGH
SPIRITS DISTILLERY
Flagstaff, Arizona
928-773-8950
High Spirits Vodka ($28) comes in plain and prickly pear varieties.

CLEAR CREEK
DISTILLERY
Portland, Oregon
503-248-9470

Oregon pears, apples, cherries, raspberries, and grapes are transformed into grappas, brandy, and eau-de-vie ($22–$80).

FLAG HILL WINERY
Lee, New Hampshire
603-659-2949

General John Stark Vodka ($25), named after the Revolutionary War hero who coined New Hampshire’s motto (“Live Free or Die”), is distilled from locally grown apples.

VERMONT SPIRITS
Barnet, Vermont
802-748-6545

Triple-distilled, charcoal-filtered vodkas include Vermont Spirits Gold ($28–$35), made with maple sap, and Vermont Spirits White, made with milk sugar.

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The Galápagos Islands, a 121-island archipelago 600 miles west of Ecuador, certainly deserve their rep as the Everest of eco-travel. Combine the islands' bizarre geology, the fearless creatures that inspired Darwin's theory of evolution, and the wonders below the waterline—manta rays, dolphins, orcas, and 35-foot whale sharks—and it's no surprise that more than 90,000 tourists visited the Galápagos in 2003, an increase of 31 percent from 2000.

“I think we're reaching a tourism tipping point,” says Martin Slater, owner of tour company Guide2Galápagos, which offers yacht and diving tours. “Last summer we had to turn people away for the first time in my nine years of selling cruises.”

But sometimes less is more—especially in the case of a fragile environment like the Galápagos. In order to keep the islands pristine, Galápagos National Park maintains strict environmental guidelines and closely supervises all tourists, allowing them on only a small fraction of the islands. Regulations duly noted, here are the coolest, most sensitive ways to tour the Enchanted Isles:

DIVE TOURS »
Hardcore divers have long known that one of the best ways to see this UNESCO World Heritage Site is underwater. The diving isn't for beginners, but if you can handle the cold currents and the schools of hammerheads, you'll find the animals beneath as approachable as those on the surface. Live-aboards like the cozy 12-passenger, 74-foot Mistral offer tanks, compressors, and three to four dives per day. Make sure your tour hits the legendary scuba spots of Wolf and Darwin islands, about 135 miles northwest of the main group, where whale sharks congregate from June to November.

SMALL BOATS »
Sailing yachts combine the romance of creaking masts and snapping canvas with the intimacy of a smaller group. Twelve passengers can dine al fresco on the aft deck of the Nemo I, a state-of-the-art, nine-year-old, 82-foot catamaran with a crew of six. Thanks to her 32-foot width, there's plenty of space for lounging and whale spotting on deck, when you're not snoozing below in one of six double cabins. Go even more intimate in a sea kayak: Outdoor ���ϳԹ��� River Specialists' (OARS) catamaran-based sea-kayaking and hiking trip offer the luxury of sailboat living and the flexibility of a kayak.

LUXURY CRUISE SHIPS »
If your tastes run to crisp linens and mimosas in the morning, reserve a berth on the four-year-old, 292-foot luxury liner Celebrity Xpedition. Between eyeballing land iguanas and snorkeling with sea lions, enjoy fine dining, top-notch guides, and a full-service spa and salon. Or take the spa concept a step further on Lindblad Expeditions' 80-passenger M.S. Polaris, where massages are administered from a floating, glass-bottomed pontoon strategically placed in a secluded cove. Onboard, take advantage of the research library and expert naturalists.

LAND-BASED ADVENTURE »
Then again, if the thought of sleeping on any boat makes your stomach do flip-flops, opt for a land-based tour on Santa Cruz Island (pop. 12,000), the metropolis of the Galápagos. Just outside Puerto Ayora, the recently remodeled Finch Bay EcoHotel is the plushest option, with a secluded beach for sunbathing, sea kayaking, and snorkeling, plus 21 rooms with soft beds. Trails for hiking, mountain biking, and horseback riding lead up into the misty highlands, where you can explore lava tubes and watch armchair-size giant tortoises. Day trips by boat to nearby islands like Santa Fe and North Seymour are de rigueur.

Access & Resources
DIVE
Quasar Nautica (011-593-2-244-6996, ) runs dive trips on the Mistral starting at $2,420 per person for eight days. Day dives with Scuba Iguana (011-593-5-252-6497, ) cost $63–$115 per person.

SAIL
Book passage on the Nemo I with Latin Tour (011-593-2-2508-810, ) for five to eight days, running $1,100–$1,700 per person. OARS's (800-346-6277, ) eight-day journey starts at $3,550 per person.

CRUISE
Eleven-day tours with Celebrity Cruises (800-722-5941, ) start at $2,200 per person. Lindblad Expeditions' (800-397-3348, ) ten-day cruise starts at $3,480 per person.

LAND
Doubles at Metropolitan Touring's Finch Bay EcoHotel (011-593-2-298-8200, ext. 2810, ) start at $220.

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