The Adventure Fund is an annual grant created by the Sidetracked Magazine family, its aim being to support people in pursuit of adventurous travel and exploration. At its very core it focuses on the spirit of adventure itself. This year’s Adventure Fund winners personify this very trait and demonstrated it fully in their persistence to make their expedition a reality despite the many hurdles strewn in front of them. The idea began with a team of five in the Revelations range, but soon became

In 1818, Gaspard Mollien, a young French explorer, knelt and drank from a tiny pool of water enveloped by a dense thicket in the remote Fouta Djallon highlands of Guinea. His discovery by locals at this sacred spot would have surely meant his death. This seemingly inconsequential puddle, filled from giant underground cisterns in the belly of the ferruginous Fouta plateau, was the end to his epic quest – the source of River Gambia. Almost two hundred years later, entering the same woods, I fe

I convinced my parent’s to let me spend a good chunk of my pocket money to satisfy my fervent desire to see what was underwater. For anyone brought up in Ireland or the UK, snorkelling usually involves severe ice-cream headaches and an up-close view of rock, sand and seaweed. In the Eastern Mediterranean though, life throngs even in hip-deep water. I recall trying to sneak up on shoals of fish, to no avail. All the while water was churning to foam around my fin-shod feet. I distinctly rememb

We’ve always said here at Sidetracked, that you don’t need to travel to the far corners of the world to experience adventure – it can be found just as easily in Dorset as it can in Dushanbe. And British adventurer, author and motivational speaker (and Sidetracked Ambassador) Alastair Humphreys agrees with us. “Adventure is the spirit of trying something new, trying something difficult”, says Al. “Above all, adventure is about enthusiasm, ambition, open-mindedne

For years, we dreamt of looking over the majestic Tian Shan Mountains of Kyrgyzstan, of contemplating the azure shores of the Timor Sea, and of looking back over our shoulders having crossed the famed Australian Outback. We dreamed of sharing countless meals with generous shepherd families, of making new friends and of finding new cultures. In order to quench our thirst for exploring and in order to realise this childhood dream, the bicycle quickly emerged as the most suitable means of transp

Six of us stood shoulder to shoulder, awaiting the floatplane on a rickety dock in northern Yukon. The last time we’d all gathered had been as gangly youths, spouting downy fluff on our faces – full of bravado. A decade and a half had passed since that screaming, drunken crescendo to engineering school. A time when beer for breakfast didn’t raise eyebrows; long before jobs, stress, heartache, coffee, booze, and time had all left their mark on each and every one of us. We carried the history

Seeing firelight and smelling turf smoke from the valley below your pace picks up, knowing other teams have already arrived at the bothy and soon the table will be filled with innumerable bottles of whisky, whiskey (I’ve been reliably informed that the spelling makes a huge amount of difference – one signifies Scottish origin, the other Irish), grappa, eau de vie, myrto, gin, wine, beer and enough food for a Himalayan expedition. I had the good fortune, years ago, of spending Hogmanay in a

A couple of hours south of Delhi by train lie the misty flat lands of Braj. The area isn’t marked on many maps – being more culturally than politically defined. It’s the birthplace of Lord Krishna and once a year, centre of Holi – Hinduism’s most colourful and lively festival. Holi celebrates the beginning of spring, Krishna and the triumph of good over evil in the legend of Holika and Prahalad. The story tells how King Hiranyakashyap became invincible as a reward for his devotion to Brahma.

My computer screen was cluttered with layers of open windows of spreadsheets, charts, calendars, emails and the usual other office stuff but the window that really had my interest was hidden just below. It was a window into the unknown. In-between cups of coffee and meetings I was exploring Google Maps peering into the depths of the remotest and least explored corners of the Himalayas – the Eastern Himalayas of India. I was looking for a line, a route, a challenge. I traced the folds of the t

I’ve been involved in photography for over 30 years and when I was a student I used to print and sell cibachrome prints to keep myself in slide film and camera equipment. Not many people will remember cibachrome but it was a really nice finish for printing slide film onto. Over the years, photography has taken a back seat while family and my professional career as an oral and facial surgeon was developing and I’d be on call for 4 days in a row and living away fr

We had gone up to Le Tour glacier to climb Aiguille Du Chardonnet, a beautiful 3824m peak above the village of Argentiere. We had been thinking about the Mignot spur as our route. However a couple of serac collapses and avalanches on the north face during the night changed our minds. Forbes arête, a ridge traverse, seemed like a better idea. We were climbing unroped in the interest of speed. A decision quickly reversed after the first technical section when Merak began a traverse and the snow

I was washing my only set of clothing again; it was becoming a regular fortnightly occurrence these days. The fast-moving stream stung my hands bitterly with its cold glacial waters, as I sat hunched in my boxer-briefs, perched on a rock in the middle of the flow, scrubbing away with just a tiny sliver of soap. It was all that we had left. On the bank I could see Matt collecting wood for the evening’s fire, and beyond that I could hear – even above the sounds of the raging torrent – the punc

DAY 0 – EVER READY Within minutes of turning up at Chris’ house the floor was strewn in a mess of kit. Piles labelled ‘In’, ‘Out’, and ‘Maybe’ – the usual last minute decisions which always lead to over-packing whilst at the same time forgetting that vital bit of kit. With the bags filled, Dave, Chris and Peachey set out from Cardiff to meet Greg at Gatwick. He was still packing at the airport when we found him, but eventually we hauled all our bags over to the service desk. ‘Peachey – O

Candles illuminate the long wooden table. Figures surround it, perched on benches, eager to tuck into the huge wild boar head that dominates the table. Men wear loin cloths, their blowpipes and parangs propped up in the corner, and the women look after the babies wrapped in cloth over their shoulders. This was not the situation the Kayak Borneo team had envisioned when they decided to explore an unpaddled river deep in the heart of the Borneo Jungle. Days earlier, we meet a New Zealand hel

I walked in under an early night, handrailing on a small river out from the tiny settlement at the Bridge of Balgie. Balgie lies at the heart of the longest valley in Scotland. Glen Lyon itself is sited in the belly of the highlands and was once a military stronghold for the Picts. The glen seems to flow over with history, yet speaks of an everlasting present. There’s a bite in the air as I walk alongside the burn and out onto the open moor. On the moor it’s dark. Nothing to challenge the

This really must be one of the wettest Januarys on record here in the UK. I’m not sure of the stats, facts and figures but – having spent much of it outdoors getting constantly drenched – this is my ‘expert’ and final opinion on the matter. Hence this wet and miserable January provided me with plenty of good opportunity to go out testing the new iPhone 5 waterproof case from Lifedge; from trying to get the winter training miles in on my bike, onto wandering over the Malvern hills looking for

You can start to forget the sacred-cow-swerving, hard-bench-bouncing, multi-tone-horn-honking and terror-inducing drive that brought you here. It may however take a slight bit longer for your gluteus and hamstrings to be back on talking terms with you. Your legs, back and lung muscles are taunted as your eyes and ambitions take in the breadth, height and white veiled flanks all around you. It’s a virtual playground for mountaineers, trekkers, backcountry skiers and snowboarders. You’re most

When I first saw the thin blue line on the map, I knew two things for sure: I was looking at one of Australia’s last unexplored rivers, and there was no way in the world I was getting in or out of there without a helicopter. I also thought it was a terrible shame that topographical maps never show you exactly where the ravenous, five-metre crocodiles live. Australia’s Kimberley wilderness is the perfect place for an epic adventure. With a total area three times the size of England and a perma