[Bonus] Success is Primal.

To this day, a small white box sits tucked away in the archives of a nondescript building in downtown Copenhagen stuffed next to other artifacts from a time when “frozen” meant death. The back of that seemingly insignificant box reads, “Grandfather’s beard, from the days of exile.” Inside that box lies the bushy, reddish-orange beard of a man whose life seems more fitting for Norse mythology than Danish fairy tales. In 1926, Peter Freuchen found himself weathering a -65°F blizzard imprisoned between a boulder and his dog sledge. It was a tomb of his own making--a space so small that his beard had frozen to the ice on his sledge. He had nowhere to turn. Literally. Let's talk about it: edgy.es/fbgroup