Tell us about your most dangerous outdoor moment.
Making an open water crossing of Tampa Bay in a sea kayak during a small craft warning, with 30-knot winds repeatedly completely washing over me and the boat. I’ve never been so happy to reach dry land.
One time I almost had to go camping but it was cancelled.
After being lost for two days without food or water in Mexico’s Copper Canyons, I drank from giardia-infested cesspools and was held at gunpoint by an AK-47-wielding drug mafia. Good times.
In 2008 I was part of a small film crew in Alaska filming grizzlies from 40 feet away and blue whales out in the open ocean tag-teaming their next meal. Despite a few tense moments, we did not get breached, and we did not get eaten.
Being caught in the middle of a flash flood above a 100-foot waterfall and watching my friend, who was wearing a fully-loaded, 50-pound pack, fall in the last pool above the lip. I don’t think I’ll ever camp in a “dry” riverbed again.
Being accidentally stranded by fellow Yellowstoners on a mountain just outside Gardiner, Montana. After flagging down some locals for much needed water and hitchhiking along Grand Loop Road, I finally completed the 56-mile journey in time for my 6pm bar shift back at Lake Yellowstone Hotel.
I was on my first serious hiking trip—a long multi-day trek through the Himalayas. About halfway through, when I was literally closer to the top of Mount Everest than the nearest medical facility, the most painful, disabling stomach ache struck. 16 hours later, it finally got better, but that night was pure hell.