My first encounter with the Marathon Des Sables came in 2006 as a participant. But the race had been a ‘must do’ for me for a long time before that – since the 80s in fact – when I’d been living in the Middle East, making small but regular expeditions out into the desert. But, such is life, actually running the race got put off until the mid-life crisis finally hit in the mid-2000s. Now, in the capacity as a photojournalist, I’ve returned every year for the past six years to document ‘the tou

Alita and Colby are on a journey down through the Americas, sharing images of their life on the road at Wander With Me. They take some time out to tell Sidetracked about their recent travels, day to day life on the road and living life as an expedition. After a good spell living from backpacks and moving at the mercy of what was available – whether by bus, motorcycle, horse, tuk-tuk, or on foot, a dream was born in the spirit and wonder of a childhood road trip. Ideas and questions came in

Life On The Line celebrates the variety of existence in the circumpolar Arctic, in the face of overwhelming environmental and cultural change. Over a number of years, photographer Cristian Barnett has journeyed to the Arctic Circle, an invisible line of latitude 66 degrees and 33 minutes north of the Equator. The line intersects eight countries and is home to a rich diversity of peoples for whom the sun never sets in high summer, nor rises in deepest winter. All the photographs were taken on

This photographic journal takes a look behind the scenes of the adventure. Read the full story in Sidetracked Volume Two Chris: I first met Manu via Instagram a couple of years ago. Our shared passions for travel, adventure and the environment brought us together to do a shoot in the Pyrenees. Instantly we hit it off, working together as if we’d know each other for years. Manu was the consummate professional; his years of working in the adventure industry as an

A “Tyndýk“ is the name of the opening in the roof of a yurt where the smoke from the fire escapes. A Tyndýk is also part of the sun on the national flag of Kyrgyzstan. It’s a symbol of nomadism. In 2010 filmmaker Franz Walter accompanied mountaineer Ines Papert on her expedition to Kyrgyzstan. Together with two friends, she attempted to accomplish a first ascent of the southeast face of Mount Kyzyl Asker in the high mountains of Tien Shan. Their summit attempt failed just below the summit.

James Bowden told the story of his journey to Iceland in Sidetracked Volume Three. He travelled with film-makers Mikey Corker and Chris McClean, as well as surfers Taz Knight and Noah Lane – a group of people who are dedicating themselves to finding and documenting waves in some of the more interesting, and challenging regions on the planet. This is about riding waves, but it is also about the other experiences that occur along the way.

We’re currently seeing some incredible photography surrounding adventure travel and adventure sports and are often left in awe of the talented athletes who ride the biggest waves, cling from rock by their fingertips or carve lines through untracked powder. However behind the scenes there is a huge amount of effort, patience and skill that goes into creating these photos. The Arc’teryx King of Dolomites is all about recognising the talents of adventure photographers by way of a 48 hour compe

‘Breathing underwater isn’t natural,’ people often say when I tell them I’m a scuba diver, who photographs and writes about marine animals for a living. Diving’s not everyone’s cup of tea. After all, humans aren’t built to be below the sea. If we were, we’d have fins and gills, and wouldn’t have to wear plastic feet and tanks. The sea is an alien environment full of knowns, unknowns, and not-sure-I-want-to-knows. There are gelatinous objects that sting, schools of toothy predators, mammals

Franz Walter told his story of travelling to Morocco with Ines Papert on two climbing expeditions in the High Atlas Mountains in Sidetracked Volume Three. The expeditions were fraught with problems, ill health and some unfavourable weather conditions. But despite this Franz recollects some perfect moments within this breathtaking environment. We’re honoured to share this extended photo selection and video from their journeys.

The headlights of a Land Rover carved through the night and illuminated armed guards who waved us through the park gates. As we clattered across a bridge and into the park, the excitement inside me spiked. I was finally here and I had no idea what to expect. The darkness was like a cloak, snippets of tropical forest illuminated briefly by the lights. The last rains of the season had fallen and the air was thick. An impala, my first African mammal, looked up as we passed and vanished into the

The dim headlights, bouncing in their casing on the front of our shed of a hire car, did nothing to penetrate the darkness of the road ahead. My eyes flicked between the faint beam on the tarmac and the emerald glow of the LCD display on the stereo. It had only been about 12 hours of travelling, but it felt like we had travelled much further, at least three or four decades back in time in fact. Each kilometre that we gained on the swathe of potholed tarmac seemed to represent another few yea

In the breakfast room at the 230-year-old Hotel Rosenlaui, I take a few minutes to sip a cappuccino and scribble thoughts in a notebook while we wait for the morning sun to pop over the Engelhörner, a row of jagged limestone peaks soaring 4,700 ft above our chairs. I feel like I’m getting away with something, stealing a moment of leisure just before another steep 2,000-foot approach hike. My friend Dan convinced me to come here this morning with him and Simon – just for fun, not for a photo

A pack of dogs kick up the snow with their strides forward. There are only 35 more metres to go, but the hounds’ muscles are clearly strained. With their tongues lolling in the crisp, fresh air, they labour to pull a sled, a driver and its passenger, me, towards the top of the hill. A few more metres of pulling, and then finally, the panting dogs arrive. A crimson hut beckons, our lodgings for the night. The well-trained Greenland dogs sit and rest, knowing instinctively that they have reach

Waiting impatiently at the boat for me to arrive was Papa Jury, Nick’s surrogate Indonesian father and good friend. Nick has been living in Indonesia for over eight years and, when not out chasing fish, often helps out as a night guard, fish provider and kids entertainer. Within 20 minutes we were kitted up and in the blissfully warm water. It wasn’t long before Nick and Sean caught a giant trevally. Being far to much for us to eat, we head back to the beach to

I was going clockwise, motivated to get the fiercely hilly west coast out of the way during the daylight and whilst I was fresh. And I was soon feeling optimistic – the first 50 miles passed quickly as I started through relatively flat farmland and then alongside the first lochs and forests as I reached the rugged west coast. The Beallach Na Ba (Pass of the Cattle) boasts the greatest ascent of any road climb in the UK, rising from sea level to 2,054ft over 9.

Why did I want to learn to trad and winter climb? After years of competing, training, and sport climbing around the world, my year abroad had opened my eyes to different types of climbing and outdoor pursuits. I tried multi-pitch sport climbing, skiing, snowboarding and even ballet for the first time. I lived amongst mountains and mountaineers, and realised there were multiple facets of climbing that I hadn’t yet tried, but which all attracted me. In Chamonix I

Most wadi systems in Oman are full of gravel stones in their base. Not this one. The boys dubbed the wadi ‘Valley of Giants’ because after eons of flash floods only the most massive boulders remain on the bedrock floor.

Walls of flowstone trickle from the rim of the cave in long vertical ribs and stalactites, forming chandeliers of stone over the simple-stemmed plants that huddle under the spotlight of the sky. When I get to the rope, I tie the two together and call out to Peter, 300ft above me. He tugs the line from my hands and lifts the massive loop upwards until it forms a pencil-thin bridge over the mouth of the cave. Then he starts to pull our highline across that dark void.’

We wanted to create something small, something beautiful. Samaya is a word taken from Sanskrit, the ancient Indian language having a broad meaning far beyond a single word. In this project’s context the rich meaning of samaya should primarily transpose two factors: the common connection and the concept of time. The crampons hit the ice. Slowly we were hiking up the glacier. Ever closer towards the B