It is possible, with the right budget, to stay in the hotels or lodges which punctuate each leg of the circuit – offering beds, showers, general stores, and even bars and dining halls, but bookings must be secured months in advance. However, most people don’t go to the end of the world to take it easy and there are plenty of camping grounds along the way, many with access to public lavatories and communal shelters for food preparation. The Torres del Paine park is a UNESCO World Biosphere Re

Spencer: It’s 12:30pm on a Thursday. A week ago, I was finishing my 8 hour board exam for medical school, and now I’m in the middle of a near-whiteout on a granite wall towering over the Pika Glacier, deep in the Alaska Range. Fog moves in and out, providing glimpses of the glacier in the distance and the rocky peaks a mile away. As Ian tiptoes his way in ski boots up the granite crack above the ledge I’m standing on, cascades of snow rumble down the couloir 50 feet to our right. The fog ampl

The best plans are often the most simple; so too are the most foolhardy. From its inception in the gloomy corner of a south London pub, the plan to make a coast-to-coast crossing of Northern Scandinavia on foot appeared practically flawless. Over the coming weeks this certainty was reinforced as maps were sourced and analysed with a heady optimism. This was fuelled in equal measure by the prospect of an escape from the clutches of our respective working routines, and by the beers which accom

I’m thigh deep in a frigid, murky pool of water that hasn’t been stirred since the last flash flood. Who knows what bacteria swims within it. It’s beginning to get dark and the shadows have veiled the high walls of the slot canyon we entered hours earlier. As I trudge through the water, my previously numb feet and ankles ache for a second then return, then, to numbness. I can feel my body temperature dropping and I begin to wonder what hypothermia might feel like. There appears to be a hint

During July and August 2014, I undertook what was undoubtedly the most difficult challenge that I have ever faced. My goal was to solo the technically difficult, high-altitude peak, Khan Tengri (7,010m) and, at the same time, become the youngest Briton to solo a 7000m+ peak. I was 22 years old. If I was only looking to break a record, I could have chosen a much easier climb, but I’ve always believed nothing worth doing is easy. The real challenge of solo expeditions is mental: knowing that if

‘I am like a mountain goat!’ 24-year old Ali Shah Farhang tells me smiling broadly. ‘When I was very young, I would walk for five hours every day across the peaks to school and back home in all kinds of weather: minus 20 degrees, through deep snow, all on my own. These mountains are in my blood.’ The vibrant young Afghani is sharing the story of his rapid rise to sporting glory as we sit in bright, spring sunshine, drinking green chai from a battered thermos. We’re high up on a hillside by

On day two the mind-demons started sniping at me; questioning my ability and my sanity. I can feel the mantle of cocksure self-belief sliding from my heavily burdened back. What began as a caffeine-fuelled dream two years ago is rapidly descending into the realms of a nightmare. What on earth possessed me to think that I would be able to manage the work of a high-altitude porter? My training had consisted of carrying a heavy load on relatively flat ground for almost half an hour as part of a

After weeks of running around Dharamshala I finally had all the gear I would need for our motorcycle tour of Kashmir and Ladakh. All together it weighed about 20 kilos, which I fit into two old rucksacks and strapped to the rack straddling the back wheel of my 350cc Royal Enfield, which made it drive wobbly as it accelerated though with speed things evened out. I put my helmet on and kick-started the engine, revving it loudly – its roar was thunderous and clean, the result of considerable las

As a photographer, Iceland has long been on my radar. But our usual annual climbing trips – when we seek out perfect ice – take us to reliable places like the Ecrins, Cogne, or Rjukan. That Colin, a friend not known for extravagance with money, would suggest Iceland came as something of a shock. He has been known – after a challenging route – to sit idly by with complimentary bread and a dejected energy bar whilst the rest of us eat somewhat more heartily. I booked the flights before he co

I can’t remember who it was, but around five years ago a person told me that I should try the Drakensberg Grande Traverse. I looked at them and – to be honest – thought they were completely crazy. Attempting to trail-run an unmarked route of approximately 220km through one of South Africa’s harshest and most rugged mountain ranges seemed at best foolish, and at worst, utterly dangerous and unachievable. But formidable as the traverse stood, there lay a challenge within the madness of those m

I forced my heavy legs to make the last few steps up to the fluttering prayer flags and stood on the small white summit, drinking down gulps of thin mountain air. The sun was rising through patchwork clouds and all around, and far below, a sea of brown shadowy mountains stretched out as far as I could see. I smiled, but my cheeks hung numbly on my face, masking the tumultuous emotions I felt inside. Otsal, my young Ladakhi guide, already had a bounce back in his step and he jumped around in

We tuck in to a classic Spanish breakfast of churros with thick chocolate. This simple food and the view outside inspire our bodies to move for the coming day. As we zigzag across the gorge walls we move from early summer to winter temperatures and back again. Someone suggests hunting out the natural spring in the valley below, so we dump our packs and step lightly over twigs and squish through mud until we find a small pool in the forest.

It was a beginner’s mistake, an easy one to make, and in retrospect I can’t believe I almost went the same way myself, having just watched how it happened. I’d been sitting in a hard-won eddy by the river’s left bank. Leon and I had been hollering over the din of crashing water, trying to scout a sneak-route down the side of the biggest rapid we’d so far encountered on our journey. Volunteering to take the lead, Leon edged back into the flow, aiming to follow a fairly obvious current through

Born in Wimbledon around the time that the tournament was being played, Omar Samra’s parents were convinced that he was going to be the Egyptian equivalent of Boris Becker. Sadly, Omar had a terrible backhand and never quite amounted to the lofty heights of tennis stardom. Instead he chose adventures, and has since become the first Egyptian and youngest Arab to climb Mount Everest. Omar is also the first Egyptian to complete the 7 Summits challenge, climbing the highest mountain on all seven

‘I’ll stop here for a while.’ It is just too painful to keep riding. I have already covered 850km and, for the majority of that time, it had been raining like hell. There were times I couldn’t feel my toes because of the low temperatures, and I managed to injure some fingers during a bike-chain repair. This is just the beginning of my grievances, but there’s no one around to hear my dissatisfaction with the world in general. I am alone in this humid and rocky terrain, where I have heard mysel

Download the complete Photoshelter guide to building your outdoor & adventure photography business here. Born in Canada and transplanted to Saudi Arabia at two years old, Jody got the travel bug early on. “I’ve always loved the outdoors, adventure, and wildlife. Because I travel so much, adventure sport photography fits perfectly,” she says. For Jody, adventure sport photography is about expressing a passion for a lifestyle lived outdoors. The business aspect began when she decided to sail

“No.” This was my first interaction with the locals on walking into Longyearbyen’s hip and happening watering hole. All I wanted was dinner. “I’m sorry?” I replied. “No.” I’ve heard stories about surly Swedish girls, but I was sure she must be joking. “But it’s 6.30 and the place is empty,” I said. “They are all reserved”. “They are all empty.” Work with me, I was thinking. “Can I eat at the bar?” She considered this for a long while, then said finally, “fine.” I sat down at the bar read

The mosquitos are unbearable. Just one big swarm of buzz and torture; a constant, itchy white noise. Why is it the most beautiful places are tarnished with such terrors? Should’ve brought a net. And that word, human, the same word over and over again. It’s driving me mad. Underprepared and naive. If this was a tourist exploring the mountains back home in the Lake District, I’d be shocked at the unpreparedness. But this wasn’t really what I was supposed to be doing. Back in late 2012 I’d set o

I’m addicted to cycling in the high mountains. There is this special feeling, when, after a hard day of exhausting ascent, I finally put my head to the pillow, my joints crack as I adjust position – a warm meal is in my stomach, dry lips say goodnight to my girlfriend – lying next to me in her sleeping bag – and I finally allow myself to relax and just let go. Even through closed eyes, I can still see the rocky trail ahead of me, as the front tyre jumps from side to side, trying to keep me up