In the early part of 2013, I led a 3-man team in an unsupported walk across the Arabian Desert. We pulled a cart weighing 900 pounds and walked for 40 days, filling up water at 3 wells on route, but carrying everything else with us. We operated under a self-imposed set of rules. That is, to walk unsupported and unassisted. This meant no one could offer any help in any form, and everything had to be carried from the start, with the proviso of water.
Within a week, we were dehydrated and dreaming of water. Our daily ration of 10 pints each was simply not enough. But there was no other way. As the days went by, the ‘dreaming’ became obsessing. Not a moment went by without the thought of water in its myriad forms. I thought of cool mountain streams where I had learnt to rock climb, deep blue oceans, the fridge, a running tap, the sound of a toilet, an afternoon thunderstorm and playing football without a shirt, and the water smashing down on my skin on a hot day. I would look left and right, searching for an oasis. An old discarded water bottle cast out in the sand would grip my attention for minutes as we labored past, staring, hoping beyond hope that there just might be a drop. But it was all in vain.
Some nights I would wake and find my tongue had slid out my mouth, like an old lizard in search of something wet. Dry and cracked, I would milk it back to life with my lips and slip back into the night. There was no respite. No afternoon storm to quell the growing thirst and deep concern that we might just be in trouble. Time and again I promised myself never, but never, to take water for granted. I made elaborate plans and schemes to stretch out and savor the drinking of a bottle of cool water. I tried to etch it in my memory so I would never forget.
After 40 days we rolled into the Park Hyatt in Dubai and downed a burning Pepsi. More followed, then bottles of water, whisky, chocolate milkshake, then beer, all to celebrate. In the days and weeks that followed, I found, sadly, that water quickly lost its mythical appeal. I tried hard to think back and savor it as I sipped it in the comfort of my home. And then it struck. The obsessive passion; the zeal with which I thought about water existed only because of the absence of it. The two, ironically, were mutually exclusive. They could never co-exist in the same moment. I could never savor it now like I did when I did not have it. But not a moment goes by when I sip some water and I don’t think back to those dark, dry days in the desert.
Our lives are simply too tame to really understand the privilege of having. You need to get out. Go do something. Go explore somewhere where you wont have, where you’ve never been.
South African-based Alex Harris has climbed the seven summits (the highest mountain on all seven continents), and became the first African to walk unsupported to the South Pole. Under his brand Xplore
, Alex offers guided experiences, coaching and speaking engagements.
When I was introduced to Rock Climbing over 25 years ago, I was instantly hooked. From then on, climbing was incorporated into every area of my life – from scheduling classes around my climbing trips, to doing my homework between pull-up sessions on the Rock Rings that I hung from the rafters of my parent’s garage.
Becoming a “professional rock climber” just happened, it was never planned. This profession has taken me all over the world through a variety of climbing trips. I have spent a good deal of my time Exploring and training in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California. I have alpine climbed in Patagonia, developed new bouldering areas in South Africa, and also competed in climbing competitions locally in the United States and in more exotic places like Italy, Korea, and Chile.
I have come to realize that for me, exploring does not just mean to go out to see and experience new places. Exploring the physical capabilities of my body through athleticism is just as important to me as exploring new places. I cannot substitute one for the other, but must keep the balance of both in my life in order to feel content and complete as a person.
Lisa Rands is a professional rock climber and climbing instructor who calls Chattanooga, TN home. For more on Lisa’s travels and climbing, check out lisarands.com.
I am drawn to torn photos, well-loved maps, and inconsequential sticky notes that tell a story of a moment in time past. I have boxes of map collections, folders of photo journals, and notebooks of newspaper and wrappers that in my mind, tell important stories. These tactile mementos are my personal teleportation devices, and if I put the right energy into them, I can transport other people with me.
I am an artist, adventurer, rock climber, and blissfully happy person who has found an immeasurable amount of joy in the art of visual story telling. I collect hundreds of photos and memories that often span years if not decades and arrange them on large-scale boards, painting and sculpting one larger universal image over the top that encompasses the essence of the finer detail images.
By using my personal collections, online archives, and social media, I am able to collaborate with a wide audience and create more full, robust stories than I could ever create on my own. The inherent beauty in this kind of work is its accessibility, outreach potential, and cultivation of personal connection.
My current project with Smith Rock State Park has over 850 community photos as its base and will be sold in early 2016, having 100% of the profits go back to the park.
Meg Kahnle is a world traveler, trained graphic designer, painter, rock climber, and passionate community-oriented artist. To learn more about her current Smith Rock project, check out her website, www.connectwithmeg.com
It was time to go somewhere new. We craved inspiration. There is no greater feeling than being so alive and full of fire. We were born to roam.
The only plan we had was to not have a plan. To just go, and take whatever road or trail looked like it led to something beautiful. To discover the natural surroundings that made us feel alive. These were the moments that inspired us to take this leap in to the wild back country of beautiful Wyoming. The valleys and lakes were just as amazing as the mountain tops. It was a chance to think about life. What we are doing right, what we are doing wrong.
We couldn’t believe we were immersed in a place we only read about and seen in pictures. It wasn’t a dream anymore. It was real.
Serge Skiba and Steve Yocom are North Carolina-based adventure photographers. For more of their work, check out their websites, earthcaptured.com