After type 1 diabetes upended his competitive career, backcountry shredder and Olympic hopeful Sean Busby has found a new purpose. He’s snowboarded on every continent, opened a hike-in retreat center above the Arctic Circle, and founded a series of immersive camps that redefine adventure for thousands of youngsters with T1D.
Sixty-three miles (101 kilometers) north of the Arctic Circle, in Alaska’s Brooks Range, eight teenagers lace their boots and check their glucose monitors before a backcountry hike. Depending on the day, they might cross rugged tundra, navigate squishy bogs, trek into boreal forests, or follow bear tracks in Gates of the Arctic National Park.
Leading the group is Sean Busby, who founded a nonprofit called Riding on Insulin after a type 1 diabetes (T1D) diagnosis derailed his Olympic snowboarding dreams. Sean’s organization is headquartered seven hours north of Fairbanks, the state’s second-largest city, at the off-grid retreat center he runs with his wife, Mollie. Here at Arctic Hive, where the couple also lives, Riding on Insulin hosts teen wilderness adventures and organizes winter sports camps held around the US.
Sean’s action-packed outdoor camps reimagine what’s possible for youngsters living with T1D. But for this to happen, Sean first had to reimagine his own possibilities, after his diagnosis changed the course of his life.
The lifelong athlete grew up in a soccer-loving, southern California household and played competitively as a child. That changed when Sean was around 12 years old, and a friend took him snowboarding. Sean immediately fell in love with the sport, resulting in his father, a college soccer coach, issuing him with a challenge. “He said, ‘If you really like snowboarding, why don’t you compete and we can see how serious you are?’” recalls Sean. “So, I went out and won.”
Soon, he was leaving school early, training past nightfall in the San Gabriel Mountains, a 90-minute drive from Los Angeles, and finishing homework on the drive home. He’d go to class the next morning and repeat the routine several days a week.
“A few years prior to my diagnosis, my brother passed away from a brown recluse spider bite. This time, like then, snowboarding became that anchor. It was a way to deal with so much emotion and grief.”
- Sean Busby
As Sean recorded wins and secured sponsors, he set his sights on the 2010 Olympics. But at age 19, then training and competing full-time, he started feeling thirstier than normal. When nausea and vomiting kicked in, Sean thought he’d caught the flu. After several emergency room trips, he landed in the hospital for 12 days. He lost 30 pounds (13.5 kilos).
Eventually, doctors misdiagnosed Sean with type 2 diabetes. Once called ‘adult-onset diabetes,’ type 2 is a metabolic condition where the body can’t effectively use insulin. Insulin, a hormone produced in the pancreas, helps turn sugar—or glucose—into energy. Despite taking medication and adjusting his diet, Sean continued shedding weight. Three months after his initial diagnosis, he nearly passed out on a plane and was rushed to a hospital. This time, medical professionals connected the dots: Sean had type 1 diabetes.
Once known as ‘juvenile diabetes’, T1D as it’s now known, is an autoimmune disease that’s less common than type 2. When someone has TID, their body’s immune system attacks insulin-producing cells in the pancreas. Without insulin, glucose can’t fuel the body. Instead, it builds up in the blood which leads to life-threatening complications over time. Though T1D has no cure, the chronic condition can be managed through insulin therapies paired with diet and lifestyle modifications.
The diagnosis set Sean on a new path. “I’d been traveling the world and snowboarding. It was a very fun lifestyle,” he says. “Being diagnosed grounded me instantly.”
While researching how others managed the condition, Sean discovered the organization Breakthrough T1D (then called the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation). The nonprofit’s website profiled children who were advocating for TID research funds.
Captivated, Sean read more than 50 stories. Parents talked about recognizing TID symptoms in their two-year-old who didn’t yet speak. A nine-year-old detailed how his parents stopped by sleepovers to check his blood sugar. A 16-year-old who gave himself an insulin shot before dinner discussed the challenges of explaining that to his date. If these youngsters could manage TID, Sean realized, he certainly could, too. “The main thing was that I had to be more responsible. And responsibility makes you a better athlete,” he says.
Returning to the slopes helped Sean process his new reality. “A few years prior to my diagnosis, my brother passed away from a brown recluse spider bite. This time, like then, snowboarding became that anchor. It was a way to deal with so much emotion and grief,” he says.
Sean ultimately traded competition for remote adventure and renewed his goal of backcountry snowboarding on all seven continents. He completed the list in 2014, after managing his T1D in extreme conditions and far-flung locations. The experience served him well when new chronic health challenges surfaced. Today, Sean lives with T1D along with systemic lupus erythematosus (the most common form of lupus, a chronic autoimmune disease that affects the organs), rheumatoid arthritis and epilepsy. “Type 1 created that base of resiliency. If I didn’t have that, I would have been likely drowning while managing those three,” he says.
Along the way, these camps redefine who participates in outdoor adventures. Some Basecamp participants have never seen mountains. Some have never flown by themselves.
Sean shares what he’s learned from his own diagnosis at the Riding on Insulin events. During winter camps held at top ski resorts in eight US states, children managing TID learn to ski and snowboard. Between 25 and 50 participants at each day-long camp are grouped by age and skill level.
Experienced coaches, including many who live with TID themselves, lead the teams through games, lessons and lunchtime chats. Campers strengthen their skills on the slopes, whether it’s their first time on the mountain or they’ve already been ripping down challenging runs. Coaches and medical staff help participants track blood sugar levels and adjust insulin for increased activity levels. Siblings sometimes join campers in the snow, while parents learn from local diabetes educators.
The events foster a sense of belonging for those who might feel isolated by TID. “Sometimes, parents with newly diagnosed kids are afraid to let go. The kids don’t experience what it’s like to be a ‘normal’ kid. They’re focused on diabetes first, and being a kid second,” Sean says. “When participants come to our camps, they’re around others going through the same things. They get to feel like kids for the day.”
In 2023, Sean introduced Riding on Insulin’s Basecamp teen retreats at Arctic Hive, his hike-in Alaska property. The immersive, week-long excursions teach backcountry skills, sustainability basics and self-confidence.
At the start each retreat, participants carry their gear about one mile (1.6 kilometers) to the cabins before trekking in a second time with food and supplies for the week. They practice planning meals, because there’s no picking up extras when the grocery store is seven hours away. Teens learn to forage for berries and conserve solar power on cloudy days. They’re taught to clap noisily while hiking so they don’t surprise any bears. They also talk about Alaska’s permafrost, and they get tips for safely hiking terrain that’s blanketed by tussocks, which are mounds of grass that might be as big as a basketball.
Along the way, these camps redefine who participates in outdoor adventures. Some Basecamp participants have never seen mountains. Some have never flown by themselves. And many people believe that individuals with T1D can’t tackle expeditions—especially those set seven hours from the nearest hospital.
To ease those concerns, Basecamp events are staffed by wilderness first responders and a Certified Diabetes Care & Education Specialist who specializes in diabetes management. Riding on Insulin Medical Director Carla Cox outlines best practices for the retreats. She’s helped the American Diabetes Association and other organizations draft their own camp protocols.
Sean, who lives off the grid and has twice snowboarded in Antarctica (“There, I might as well be on the moon if something goes wrong,” he says), continues to prove what’s possible. He encourages others to dream big. “The technology is out there,” he says. “The skills for understanding and managing your illness are available. You can go out and live these crazy adventures.”
As participants discover how much they can accomplish, they also build lifelong connections. “The next best medicine to insulin is community,” Sean says. “If you have a great community around you, you’re basically unstoppable.”
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Riding on Insulin’s Basecamp teen retreats take place at Arctic Hive in Alaska. The winter camps take place around the US in eight different states.
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Renee Brincks is a San Francisco-based writer and editor who covers travel, sustainability, small businesses and people driving positive change. She's freelanced for BBC Travel, National Geographic, Sierra, Hemispheres and Travel Weekly, among others. Renee grew up on a small Iowa farm and lived in Spain, Alaska and Australia before landing on the California coast.
