Last week we
looked at 2013’s bucket list, today here is the National Geographic’s 2012
bucket list. And thank’s my friends for submitting your top item on your bucket
list.
Twenty of the world's top athletes and explorers share their wildest dream
trips—a dazzling list of never attempted feats daunting to even these
world-class competitors. For the rest of us, consider their must-do
adventures—and start planning.
A diver explores frozen underwater waterfalls formed by glacier meltwater
off the coast of Antarctica.
Photograph by Norbert Wu, Minden Pictures II/Getty Images
Dream Trip: Dive the Poles
Marine Ecologist and Diver
Most
divers gravitate to tropical waters teeming with corals, colorful reef fish,
and sharks. Not Enric Sala.
The marine ecologist and seasoned diver daydreams of something a little more
remote. “I dream of diving in two places where I have not been yet,” he says.
“One is Antarctica, because of its crystal clear waters and amazing fauna, in
addition to the ice cathedrals. The other is the Arctic, where I'd like to see
the northernmost kelp forests.”
Diving in polar regions comes with its dangers, like utterly frigid waters and the possibility of getting trapped under the ice, but Sala is lured by the promise of Antarctica’s wild creatures, like giant crustaceans, and astounding underwater visibility. “It’s like flying,” he says. As for the Arctic, he doesn’t know what to expect, which is a large part of the draw. “It’s a poorly known ecosystem, so it’s pure exploration.”
Diving in polar regions comes with its dangers, like utterly frigid waters and the possibility of getting trapped under the ice, but Sala is lured by the promise of Antarctica’s wild creatures, like giant crustaceans, and astounding underwater visibility. “It’s like flying,” he says. As for the Arctic, he doesn’t know what to expect, which is a large part of the draw. “It’s a poorly known ecosystem, so it’s pure exploration.”
Climber Nalle Hukkataival scales the Taipan Wall in Victoria, Australia.
Photograph by Keith Ladzinski
Dream
Trip: Climbing Odyssey in Southeast Asia, Australia
Climber
Alex
Honnold isn’t much for dreaming. He’d rather be doing. “I don’t want to just
dream about trips,” says the steel-nerved solo climber. “I feel like every trip
I come up with I just go on it.” Now he has set his sights on a winter-long
odyssey through some of the most beloved sport-climbing hot spots of Southeast
Asia and Australia.
(One of the perks of being a full-time sponsored climber: sponsored trips.)
Spending weeks casing the hardest routes in each locale, he’ll first stop in Krabi, Thailand, a climbing mecca with more than 700 sport-climbing routes on limestone karsts and other perks like gorgeous beaches and plentiful pad thai vendors. Then it’s off to explore up-and-coming climbing areas in Vietnam and Laos and to Yangshuo, China, a trove of hundreds of routes on limestone karsts, surrounded by rice fields and often shrouded in mist. The cherry on top is Taipan’s Wall in Victoria, Australia’s Grampians National Park, a wild 450,000-acre tract of forests, wildflowers, waterfalls, and otherworldly rock formations that draw climbers from across the globe. “It’s the coolest, best sandstone ever with really cool amazing unique holds,” says Honnold. “It’s supposed to be paradise.”
Spending weeks casing the hardest routes in each locale, he’ll first stop in Krabi, Thailand, a climbing mecca with more than 700 sport-climbing routes on limestone karsts and other perks like gorgeous beaches and plentiful pad thai vendors. Then it’s off to explore up-and-coming climbing areas in Vietnam and Laos and to Yangshuo, China, a trove of hundreds of routes on limestone karsts, surrounded by rice fields and often shrouded in mist. The cherry on top is Taipan’s Wall in Victoria, Australia’s Grampians National Park, a wild 450,000-acre tract of forests, wildflowers, waterfalls, and otherworldly rock formations that draw climbers from across the globe. “It’s the coolest, best sandstone ever with really cool amazing unique holds,” says Honnold. “It’s supposed to be paradise.”
A mountain biker pedals through a lush forest in Whirinaki in Northland,
New Zealand.
Photograph by Graeme Murray
Dream Trip: Mountain Bike New Zealand
Mountain Biker
With
steep fjords, pristine bays, lush mountains, skyrocketing geysers, boiling mud
pools, and wildlife out of a Dr. Seuss book, stories of New
Zealand can verge on mythical. Which is why over the last couple of decades
it has become a pilgrimage site for the world’s adventurers, Jill Kintner
included. “I want to live in New Zealand for a few months and travel around the
entire country,” she says. “I’ve been to Rotorua for riding and had the best
time.”
From Rotorua, surrounded by geysers, lakes, hot springs, Maori communities, and miles of singletrack, Kintner would hit Queenstown, the country’s adventure hub for trekking, rafting, and skiing. After that, she’d swing over to Christchurch and Nelson, a sunny artist colony and the gateway to Abel Tasman National Park. Of course, much of the appeal of road tripping New Zealand lies in winging it, a concept Kintner embraces. “There are outdoor activities everywhere,” says Kintner, “and the scenery is epic.”
From Rotorua, surrounded by geysers, lakes, hot springs, Maori communities, and miles of singletrack, Kintner would hit Queenstown, the country’s adventure hub for trekking, rafting, and skiing. After that, she’d swing over to Christchurch and Nelson, a sunny artist colony and the gateway to Abel Tasman National Park. Of course, much of the appeal of road tripping New Zealand lies in winging it, a concept Kintner embraces. “There are outdoor activities everywhere,” says Kintner, “and the scenery is epic.”
A Southern giant petrel flies past a blue iceberg near South Georgia
Island.
Photograph by Momatiuk-Eastcott/Corbis
Dream Trip: Ski South Georgia Island
Big-Mountain Skier
On his
legendary quest to rescue the sailors of the Endurance, Sir Ernest Shackleton
undertook one of the hairiest small-boat crossings ever recorded—800 nautical
miles across the insane-making conditions of the Southern Ocean. Then he topped
it off with an arguably more insane trek across rugged snow-buried South
Georgia Island. Since then, the unsettled island hasn’t changed much at all,
which is why it remains one of the last great unknown adventure destinations.
“My current dream trip would be to hire a sailboat with five or six of my friends, skiers, photographers, and filmmakers and document a trip to South Georgia Island,” says Chris Davenport. “The goal would be to try and re-create the amazing traverse of Sir Ernest Shackleton.” Along the way, they’d cross glaciers and snowfields, spot penguins and fur seals, and ski descents on peaks that top 9,600 feet. “This would be a monthlong trip to one of the world’s most beautiful and remote islands,” says Davenport
“My current dream trip would be to hire a sailboat with five or six of my friends, skiers, photographers, and filmmakers and document a trip to South Georgia Island,” says Chris Davenport. “The goal would be to try and re-create the amazing traverse of Sir Ernest Shackleton.” Along the way, they’d cross glaciers and snowfields, spot penguins and fur seals, and ski descents on peaks that top 9,600 feet. “This would be a monthlong trip to one of the world’s most beautiful and remote islands,” says Davenport
Ueli Steck climbs the Khumbu Glacier on Mount Everest, the tallest of the
14 8,000-meter peaks.
Photograph by Robert Bösch
Dream
Trip: Climb 8,000-Meter Peaks in the Himalaya
Speed Alpinist
Ueli
Steck is fixated on a goal that is perhaps more difficult than a summit:
testing his personal limits. This is not so simple when it comes to the Swiss
Machine, whose limits are preposterously extreme. It has led him to set his
sights on scaling 8,000-meter summits—at top speeds.
“You know, 8,000 meters, they’re the highest peaks,” says Steck. “It’s the thinnest air and it’s the biggest challenge.” Steck, naturally, doesn’t want to walk up them—“I’m a bad hiker,” he says. Steck is aiming for the mountains’ bold, highly technical routes, such as the south face of 26,545-foot Annapurna. He already stood on the top of Cho Oyu (with mountaineer Don Bowie) and Shishapangma (in 10.5 hours) in 2011. Perhaps Everest isn’t so far-fetched.
“You know, 8,000 meters, they’re the highest peaks,” says Steck. “It’s the thinnest air and it’s the biggest challenge.” Steck, naturally, doesn’t want to walk up them—“I’m a bad hiker,” he says. Steck is aiming for the mountains’ bold, highly technical routes, such as the south face of 26,545-foot Annapurna. He already stood on the top of Cho Oyu (with mountaineer Don Bowie) and Shishapangma (in 10.5 hours) in 2011. Perhaps Everest isn’t so far-fetched.
6 of 20
A kayaker braves the Yarlung Tsangpo in Tibet.
Photograph by Charlie Munsey
Dream
Trip: Kayak the Entire Yarlung Tsangpo, Tibet
Whitewater Kayaker
Some
might argue that the last frontier of human exploration lies not in mountains
or jungles but in the tumultuous uncharted rivers that run through them. And
one of the mightiest, hairiest, most remote prizes still left to kayak in full
is undoubtedly the Yarlung Tsangpo in Tibet.
“It’s a
massive river,” says expedition paddler Ben Stookesberry. “It essentially
drains half of the Tibetan Plateau. It's headwaters lie in Western Tibet near
Mount Kailas, which, to Tibetan and Hindu cultures, is the center of the
universe." It flows due east past Mount Everest before dropping 9,000 feet
through the Tsangpo Gorge to India.
Sky-high
permit fees, the river’s remoteness, and the sheer terror of its unknown Class
V+ whitewater has kept this river sacred and relatively unexplored. The entire
river, which has views of Everest and runs through a 16,000-foot gorge—the
deepest on Earth—has yet to be kayaked top to bottom in one expedition. Doug
Gordon died trying in 1998 shortly into the trip. In 2002, a team led by Scott
Lindgren successfully completed the first descent of the Upper Tsangpo Gorge,
one of the last prizes in big water kayaking, but opted to leave the Lower
Gorge for another time. Just kayaking and negotiating the Upper Gorge took them
30 days. “It’s the Everest of rivers,” says Stookesberry. “But unlike Everest,
it has never been completely accomplished.”
A climber rappels 300 feet down into the Greenland ice sheet.
Photograph by Patrick Robert, Corbis
Dream
Trip: Ice Climb Baffin Island and Greenland
Ice Climber
It all
started with a rumor. From friends who have flown over Greenland and Canada’s
Baffin Island to scout for minerals and tourism, Will Gadd heard about the
possibility of ice-climbing gold: huge granite fjords spackled with frozen
waterfalls. “I think there is likely more ice in the Baffin Island-Greenland
sweep than anyone suspects,” says Gadd. “But it's really, really hard to get
there.”
Gadd
plans to wait for conditions to ripen during the winter of 2011—12 before he
heads up on a private expedition to investigate. He expects to find a host of
2,000- to 3,000-foot waterfalls in places so far north that they don’t see the
sun for as much as two months out of the year—perfect conditions for intrepid
ice climbers. “It’s like Yosemite Valley but a lot more of it,” says Gadd. “And
no, I can’t give you the GPS coordinates.”
A diver ascends a deep shaft in Dan's Cave on Great Abaco Island, Bahamas.
Photograph by Wes C. Skiles, National Geographic
Dream
Trip: Dive and Surf From Florida to the Bahamas
Cave Diver
Kenny
Broad sees the adventure beneath the surface—literally. The cave diver and
cultural anthropologist has explored much of subterranean Florida and the
Bahamas through its underworld of watery limestone caves and passageways.
His dream trip is something he dubs the “Caves, Waves, and Babes Expedition,” a water sport odyssey across Florida and the Bahamas with his wife, Amy, and sons Lincoln, four, and Jasper, eight. From Cedar Key and Manatee Springs on the Gulf Coast of Florida, the epicenter of cave diving, the group would “dive our way underground and paddle rivers on surface until we come out in the Atlantic, then cross the Gulf Stream in my trawler, and make our way to the Bahamas,” says Broad. “From there, we’d cave dive all the way down the Caribbean, with breaks to surf when the waves are good.”
His dream trip is something he dubs the “Caves, Waves, and Babes Expedition,” a water sport odyssey across Florida and the Bahamas with his wife, Amy, and sons Lincoln, four, and Jasper, eight. From Cedar Key and Manatee Springs on the Gulf Coast of Florida, the epicenter of cave diving, the group would “dive our way underground and paddle rivers on surface until we come out in the Atlantic, then cross the Gulf Stream in my trawler, and make our way to the Bahamas,” says Broad. “From there, we’d cave dive all the way down the Caribbean, with breaks to surf when the waves are good.”
Pakistan's Shipton Spire looked like this when Steph Davis's team claimed
the third ascent in 1998. Part of the route has since fallen away.
Photograph by Kennan Harvey
Dream Trip: BASE Jump Off Shipton Spire, Pakistan
Climber
The
Karakorum Range might as well have a moat around it. A kingdom of the greatest
concentration of high mountains on Earth, it holds such fearsome 8,000-meter
peaks as K2, Gasherbrum I and II, and Broad Peak. And not only is the range
remote and difficult to access, it sits on top of a hotbed of volatile borders
between Tajikistan,
China,
Pakistan,
Afghanistan,
and India,
effectively sealing the mountains from the bulk of mountaineers—and leaving
many faces unclimbed.
Perhaps that is part of the allure to climber and BASE jumper Steph Davis, who summited Shipton Spire in 1998. “When we climbed that, it was the third ascent of the peak, and I really enjoyed being there,” she says. “Everything there is just really big, which is part of what makes that place really special. If we lived in a fantasy land and nothing’s an obstacle, it would be pretty cool to go back and jump Shipton.”
By jump, she means toss herself off of it—with a parachute, of course. A 19,308-foot tooth with an inconceivably huge granite face, Shipton has attracted many climbers, but it has never—yet—been jumped.
Perhaps that is part of the allure to climber and BASE jumper Steph Davis, who summited Shipton Spire in 1998. “When we climbed that, it was the third ascent of the peak, and I really enjoyed being there,” she says. “Everything there is just really big, which is part of what makes that place really special. If we lived in a fantasy land and nothing’s an obstacle, it would be pretty cool to go back and jump Shipton.”
By jump, she means toss herself off of it—with a parachute, of course. A 19,308-foot tooth with an inconceivably huge granite face, Shipton has attracted many climbers, but it has never—yet—been jumped.
A trail runner traces an alpine ridge on the Continental Divide Trail.
Photograph by Randall Levensaler, Aurora
Dream Trip: Hike the Continental Divide Trail
Speed Hiker
The
average thru-hiker takes some six months to complete the Appalachian
Trail. Jennifer Pharr Davis is clearly not average. Hiking up to 17 hours
each day, in 2011 Pharr ticked off the 2,181 miles in a mere 46 days, 11 hours,
and 20 minutes—the fastest time ever, for men and women.
So accomplishing her dream trip seems well within reach: “I really eventually would like to do the Continental Divide Trail,” says Davis. “When people complete all three [of the country’s longest distance trails] they become triple crowners.” And the CDT is the only trail that stands between her and the coveted title in long-distance hiking.
But even for long-legged phenoms like Davis, the Continental Divide Trail is no breeze. Stretching 3,100 miles from Mexico to Canada, it traces the backbone of the country through Georgia O’Keefe’s haunts in New Mexico, alpine tundra and 14,000-foot peaks in Colorado, the trout streams and meadows of Yellowstone’s backcountry, and remote wildernesses in Montana where Lewis and Clark once passed
So accomplishing her dream trip seems well within reach: “I really eventually would like to do the Continental Divide Trail,” says Davis. “When people complete all three [of the country’s longest distance trails] they become triple crowners.” And the CDT is the only trail that stands between her and the coveted title in long-distance hiking.
But even for long-legged phenoms like Davis, the Continental Divide Trail is no breeze. Stretching 3,100 miles from Mexico to Canada, it traces the backbone of the country through Georgia O’Keefe’s haunts in New Mexico, alpine tundra and 14,000-foot peaks in Colorado, the trout streams and meadows of Yellowstone’s backcountry, and remote wildernesses in Montana where Lewis and Clark once passed
Peru's numerous waterways and coastlines, such as this beach in Chicama,
are a wave-rider's dream.
Photograph by Ben Kottke, A-Frame
Dream Trip: Stand-Up Paddleboard Peru
Stand-Up Paddleboarder
Even
surfers haven’t entirely sussed out Peru’s
1,500 miles of coastline and year-round ocean surf. Add to that a preponderance
of rivers and Peru is an obvious homing point for stand-up paddle surfers.
Candice Appleby would start in Iquitos and travel up the Amazon in style on the
Delfin Amazon Cruise, a swanky passenger boat.
“Here we can swim and paddle with pink dolphins, hug century-old trees, and experience pure nature at its finest,” she says. From there, she’d drive or boat to the Colca River, where she’d surf through Class III rapids, pass tumbling waterfalls, spot Andean condors, and ogle a canyon that at points plunges more than 10,000 feet. Then it’s off to the coast: “After some big-wave SUPing [stand-up paddleboarding] at Pico Alto”—the famed big-wave surf break south of Lima—“we will end the Peruvian SUP Expedition surfing Chicama, the longest left point break in the world.”
“Here we can swim and paddle with pink dolphins, hug century-old trees, and experience pure nature at its finest,” she says. From there, she’d drive or boat to the Colca River, where she’d surf through Class III rapids, pass tumbling waterfalls, spot Andean condors, and ogle a canyon that at points plunges more than 10,000 feet. Then it’s off to the coast: “After some big-wave SUPing [stand-up paddleboarding] at Pico Alto”—the famed big-wave surf break south of Lima—“we will end the Peruvian SUP Expedition surfing Chicama, the longest left point break in the world.”
Ski and snowboard mountaineers walk the Biafo Glacier in Pakistan.
Photograph by Bill Stevenson, Aurora/Corbis
Dream
Trip: Snowboard the Himalaya
Snowboarder
More
than 110 peaks rise to over 24,000 feet in the Himalaya, making it both the
loftiest mountain range on Earth and an irresistible stomping grounds for elite
adventurers. Gretchen
Bleiler is no exception. The accomplished competition and backcountry
snowboarder daydreams about a journey to the region for both its adventurous
allure and its cultural and spiritual mystique.
She
envisions "a trip to the Himalaya where we go on treks and snowboard,
build jumps to learn tricks, practice yoga, and also adventure to find hidden
monasteries in the middle of nowhere.” As for specifics, Bleiler is still
hatching a plan. She could wander anywhere from the flanks of 20,200-foot
Thorung Peak to the snowfields, glaciers, and pinnacles surrounding Everest. One
thing is certain: Along the way, she’d undoubtedly encounter the captivating
suggestions of Himalayan culture: stupas on remote hilltops, chants wafting
from high monasteries, and ubiquitous prayer flags that carry missives to the
heavens
Will Steger climbs a glacier in Ellesmere Island in 2008.
Photograph by Ben Horton, Will Steger Foundation
Dream Trip: Traverse the High Arctic, Canada
Polar Explorer
“The
Inuit or Eskimo people call this area the land of hardship and starvation,”
says Will Steger of Canada’s Arctic—in other words, an obvious vacation
destination for the famed polar explorer. “For adventure’s sake, I’m stringing
together an extremely challenging route, up valleys and rivers and crossing
mountains, the whole thing,” says Steger of a 2,000-mile dream expedition that
he will undertake during the winter of 2013—14. “A lot of the areas I’ve always
wanted to go to and others I want to revisit, particularly some of the native
cultures along the way.”
Starting on the Arctic Ocean at the MacKenzie Delta in the Northwest Territories—one of the coldest places in the Northern Hemisphere in winter—Steger will cross thick forests, huge lakes, headwaters of grand rivers most of us have never heard of, open plains, and frozen mountain ranges all the way to South Indian Lake in northern Manitoba. He’ll travel territory he’s never seen but also stop in villages where he’s known three generations of Inuit.
The ever present dangers of bitter cold, storms, and the unknown that would deter less trained individuals don’t phase Steger. In fact, that’s a large part of the appeal. “Go to any wild place, for as long as you can, even if it’s a week or two, and you’ll get a new perspective on your life,” he says
Starting on the Arctic Ocean at the MacKenzie Delta in the Northwest Territories—one of the coldest places in the Northern Hemisphere in winter—Steger will cross thick forests, huge lakes, headwaters of grand rivers most of us have never heard of, open plains, and frozen mountain ranges all the way to South Indian Lake in northern Manitoba. He’ll travel territory he’s never seen but also stop in villages where he’s known three generations of Inuit.
The ever present dangers of bitter cold, storms, and the unknown that would deter less trained individuals don’t phase Steger. In fact, that’s a large part of the appeal. “Go to any wild place, for as long as you can, even if it’s a week or two, and you’ll get a new perspective on your life,” he says
Road bikers pedal the Austria's Ötztal Glacier Road, the second highest
paved road in Europe.
Photograph by Uwe Geissler, Ötztal Tourism
Dream Trip: Bike the Highest Roads in Western Europe
Road Cyclist
The idea
of a multiday bike race around France seemed preposterous when journalist Géo
Lefèvre first cooked up the idea in 1903. Now the Tour de France is one of the
world’s premier sporting events—and pedaling atop the high mountain passes of
Western Europe is one of the highlights of any pro cycling career.
“The ultimate bike trip would be to take a trip to Europe and ride up the highest paved peaks in France, Italy, Switzerland, Austria, and Spain,” says racer Kristin Armstrong, who has one of the Tour’s famous climbs in mind. “While I was there I would spend a week in each of these countries to explore the towns and to experience the culture.”
Among the stops would be Col de la Bonette, the Tour de France’s highest pass; Spain’s Pico del Veleta, the highest paved bikable road in Europe (a stretch of nearly 27 miles with an average 6.2 percent grade); and Austria’s Ötztal Glacier Road, where a sign warns “Mountain Road Only for Experienced Riders.” Enough said.
“The ultimate bike trip would be to take a trip to Europe and ride up the highest paved peaks in France, Italy, Switzerland, Austria, and Spain,” says racer Kristin Armstrong, who has one of the Tour’s famous climbs in mind. “While I was there I would spend a week in each of these countries to explore the towns and to experience the culture.”
Among the stops would be Col de la Bonette, the Tour de France’s highest pass; Spain’s Pico del Veleta, the highest paved bikable road in Europe (a stretch of nearly 27 miles with an average 6.2 percent grade); and Austria’s Ötztal Glacier Road, where a sign warns “Mountain Road Only for Experienced Riders.” Enough said.
Lynsey
Dyer drops through the backcountry near Mustang Powder Lodge, British Columbia.
Photograph by Bryan Ralph
Dream Trip: Ski Road Trip to the Powder Highway, U.S., Canada
Big-Mountain Skier
The holy
grail of big-mountain skiing has two basic ingredients: huge mountains and a
whopper of a storm. But credit Lynsey Dyer’s innate ability to dream big for
coming up with something even better.
“I would take off in a plush-out RV with ten best friends and just follow where the snow goes, from Jackson Hole, up through Washington, into Canada, and along the Powder Highway,” says Dyer.
In southeast British Columbia, the Powder Highway is the veritable epicenter of North American snow sports with some 64 ski operators—including eight alpine resorts, nine heli-ski operators, 16 snowcat guides, and 21 backcountry ski touring outfitters—along 680 miles of remote, snowy highway. “Of course the bus would have a driver and a cleaning crew, so no one ever has to clean up, and we’d have our spiritual gurus and massage therapists with us,” she says. “We could launch our private helicopter wherever the snow is and maybe the bus would even turn into a snowcat.” The grand finale: corn skiing and salmon fishing in Alaska, after which Dyer would fly down to her top-secret Mexico surf spot for the summer—the bus, naturally, has wings.
“I would take off in a plush-out RV with ten best friends and just follow where the snow goes, from Jackson Hole, up through Washington, into Canada, and along the Powder Highway,” says Dyer.
In southeast British Columbia, the Powder Highway is the veritable epicenter of North American snow sports with some 64 ski operators—including eight alpine resorts, nine heli-ski operators, 16 snowcat guides, and 21 backcountry ski touring outfitters—along 680 miles of remote, snowy highway. “Of course the bus would have a driver and a cleaning crew, so no one ever has to clean up, and we’d have our spiritual gurus and massage therapists with us,” she says. “We could launch our private helicopter wherever the snow is and maybe the bus would even turn into a snowcat.” The grand finale: corn skiing and salmon fishing in Alaska, after which Dyer would fly down to her top-secret Mexico surf spot for the summer—the bus, naturally, has wings.
Surfer Layne Beachley competes in Maui, Hawaii.
Photograph by Kirstin Scholtz, ASP/Getty Images
Dream Trip: Surfing Circumnavigation of the Earth
Surfer
One
might think that seven-time world champion surfer Layne Beachley would be happy
to sit on her laurels and rest at home. Nope. “There are so many places I
haven't been but would love to go,” she says. “I think my greatest surf trip
would involve a five-star luxury liner, cruising around the world for a year
determined by the currents, winds, and swell.”
On her list of to-dos are some tried-and-true surf meccas like Indonesia, Tahiti, Hawaii, and Mexico, but also some lesser known spots like Italy and France, where the quality of the waves is just as important as the joie de vivre. For effervescent, famously positive Beachley, perhaps the beauty of surfing lies simply in the abundance of sun, good food, good people, and waves—no matter where or how big. “I want to surf every corner of the globe,” she says
On her list of to-dos are some tried-and-true surf meccas like Indonesia, Tahiti, Hawaii, and Mexico, but also some lesser known spots like Italy and France, where the quality of the waves is just as important as the joie de vivre. For effervescent, famously positive Beachley, perhaps the beauty of surfing lies simply in the abundance of sun, good food, good people, and waves—no matter where or how big. “I want to surf every corner of the globe,” she says
Adventurers Andrew Skurka (left) and Roman Dial hike over the Arrigetch
Peaks in Alaska.
Photograph by Michael Christopher Brown, National Geographic
Dream Trip: Traverse Arctic Alaska and Canada
Long-Distance Hiker
After
logging his 4,679th mile of a 176-day odyssey across Alaska and the Yukon, one
might think Andrew Skurka would call it good. But despite the fact that he had
never felt so exposed or scared in his life, he’d set off again without
hesitation.
“The trip I’d like to do again is a traverse of the Canadian and Alaskan Arctic across the Yukon and northern Alaska,” says Skurka. The difference this time, he says, would be adding more of the wild and remote Brooks Range. “That runs about 1,500 miles and you’d cross one road and you’d go probably never see people unless you were in towns. It’s such an amazing trip.”
Of course, the objective hazards are numerous: wild storms, falling rocks, grizzly bears, river crossings, and hair-raisingly steep slopes, to name a few. Skurka, evidently, takes it all in stride
“The trip I’d like to do again is a traverse of the Canadian and Alaskan Arctic across the Yukon and northern Alaska,” says Skurka. The difference this time, he says, would be adding more of the wild and remote Brooks Range. “That runs about 1,500 miles and you’d cross one road and you’d go probably never see people unless you were in towns. It’s such an amazing trip.”
Of course, the objective hazards are numerous: wild storms, falling rocks, grizzly bears, river crossings, and hair-raisingly steep slopes, to name a few. Skurka, evidently, takes it all in stride
Steam from fumaroles obscures the sky in Kronotsky Nature Reserve,
Kamchatka, Russia.
Photogrpah by Frans Lanting, National Geographic
Dream Trip: Explore Kamchatka, Russia
Kite Skier
The
140,000 square miles of the Kamchatka Peninsula might as well be the edge of
the Earth. Jutting into the Pacific Ocean and the Bering Sea, it’s covered with
mountains that top 15,000 feet, 22 active volcanoes, dense forests, alpine
tundra, rivers simmering with salmon, a preponderance of grizzly bears, and an
utter dearth of human beings.
But the wild peninsula piqued Sarah McNair-Landry’s interest simply with its sheer lack of kite-tangling power lines and towns. “I’d love to do a crossing of the Kamchatka Peninsula kite skiing,” says McNair-Landry, who has it on her short list of expedition destinations. “In my mind, it’s very wild, not many people go there, lots of bears, lots of volcanoes, cold. It would be a beautiful place to travel and to visit.”
But the wild peninsula piqued Sarah McNair-Landry’s interest simply with its sheer lack of kite-tangling power lines and towns. “I’d love to do a crossing of the Kamchatka Peninsula kite skiing,” says McNair-Landry, who has it on her short list of expedition destinations. “In my mind, it’s very wild, not many people go there, lots of bears, lots of volcanoes, cold. It would be a beautiful place to travel and to visit.”
Freya Hoffmeister has circumnavigated Iceland and Australia and is now
working on South America.
Photograph by Greg Stamer
Dream Trip: Kayak Circumnavigation of South America
Sea Kayaker
When
asked if she has a dream kayak trip, Husum, Germany-based Freya Hoffmeister is
unequivocal. “I’m not usually dreaming of trips, I’m usually planning and doing
them,” she says. “If I’ve got something on my mind, I do it.”
Right now, that something is a nearly three-year circumnavigation of South America in three eight-month pushes, which began September 1, 2011. If she completes it, it will be the longest sea kayaking expedition ever undertaken and she will become the first person to circumnavigate the continent by kayak.
Of course, the challenges are numerous: She’ll start in Buenos Aires, traveling clockwise some 15,000 miles and 60 degrees of latitude, surfing monster waves, meeting untold sea creatures, and dodging ocean liners along the way. After that, she’ll decide what her next trip might be. “There are lots of continents waiting, but no one knows if I’ll do another one,” says Hoffmeister. “For sure I can make it if I want to.”
Right now, that something is a nearly three-year circumnavigation of South America in three eight-month pushes, which began September 1, 2011. If she completes it, it will be the longest sea kayaking expedition ever undertaken and she will become the first person to circumnavigate the continent by kayak.
Of course, the challenges are numerous: She’ll start in Buenos Aires, traveling clockwise some 15,000 miles and 60 degrees of latitude, surfing monster waves, meeting untold sea creatures, and dodging ocean liners along the way. After that, she’ll decide what her next trip might be. “There are lots of continents waiting, but no one knows if I’ll do another one,” says Hoffmeister. “For sure I can make it if I want to.”
Expedition members ski past the peaks of Fenriskjeften, Queen Maud Land,
Antarctica.
Photograph by Gordon Wiltsie, National Geographic
Dream Trip: Ski to the South Pole
Mountaineer
No
matter their era or interest, the world’s legendary explorers have one thing in
common: an insatiable curiosity about the forgotten corners of the world.
Nowadays, few places hold their allure like the literal ends of the Earth—the
Poles.
“Something that has always intrigued me is a ski trip from the coast of Antarctica to the South Pole,” says Ed Viesturs. His strategy would be simple: With one or two partners, he’d take up to 50 days to glide more than 600 miles across the Antarctic, braving blow-you-over winds to reach the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station, where the average temperature is -18ºF in the austral summer. A purist who negotiates the planet’s extreme places on his own terms, Viesturs would carry all of his own gear by sled with no support team or resupply drops. “I think the intrigue for me is the simplicity of the daily routine, combined with the demanding physical and mental endurance needed to do this.”
“Something that has always intrigued me is a ski trip from the coast of Antarctica to the South Pole,” says Ed Viesturs. His strategy would be simple: With one or two partners, he’d take up to 50 days to glide more than 600 miles across the Antarctic, braving blow-you-over winds to reach the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station, where the average temperature is -18ºF in the austral summer. A purist who negotiates the planet’s extreme places on his own terms, Viesturs would carry all of his own gear by sled with no support team or resupply drops. “I think the intrigue for me is the simplicity of the daily routine, combined with the demanding physical and mental endurance needed to do this.”
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