Field Journal

Having survived alone for months above the Arctic Circle, climbed some of the world’s highest mountains, and trekked to the North Pole in the inky black of the Arctic winter, Mike Horn is one of a kind.
Words: Tom Ward

‘When I circumnavigated the world I was put in front of a death squad in the Congo. They shot another guy who was caught with me but I was allowed to live. It was that close. If they’d decided to shoot me first I would have died. So, for me, you’re either dead or alive – and at this stage I’m still alive.’

Mike Horn is a hard man to track down. Yes, he’d very much like to be interviewed for Sidetracked, his daughter tells me. The only problem is that he’s currently in the Philippines, and very difficult to get hold of. In fact, he might be heading off into the jungle at any moment. All you can do is try and call. When I do get through to Mike, about a week later, he’s about to fly from Kuala Lumpur to Switzerland. He might be able to fit me in between connecting flights. No such luck. Then, like an ornithologist spotting a rare and richly feathered bird in the wild, I finally manage to pin him down a week later.

The conversation was worth the wait. Having completed a two-year, three-month solo circumnavigation of the Arctic Circle, become one of the first men to travel to the North Pole in permanent darkness and without motorised transport, spent six months navigating the Amazon alone, and climbed some of the greatest mountains in the world, Mike has a lot to talk about.

Born just outside Johannesburg in 1966, Mike describes an idyllic childhood, and the perfect training ground for a would-be adventurer, with the foothills, rivers and rocks of the South African bush forming his playground. ‘My father gave me a lot of freedom to go out and explore,’ he recalls.

‘I only had one rule and it was that I had to be home by 6pm. When I arrived home I shared with him what I experienced throughout the day, and that’s how he knew what I was doing. If you make the decisions and you get injured or hurt, you can’t blame anyone but yourself. In that way you’re taught a lot of responsibility. You have to like a bit of discomfort and the physical challenge. You like the mental fatigue.’

This free-roaming childhood may not seem like the natural precursor to a regimented career in the military, but when his two years’ compulsory military service came around at the age of 18, Mike decided to view it as an opportunity. ‘I wanted to do the best I could, and was selected to join the special forces reaction force.’ During South Africa’s conflict with Angola, Mike’s unit was tasked with hunting down any enemies who happened to stray onto South African soil. But despite the horrors of guerrilla warfare, Mike never lost perspective of his role. ‘It was a pretty active, physical and mental engagement,’ he says. ‘It made me understand that life is not a game. I knew I had to go into war with the aim of surviving, not killing people.’

A sedentary year followed, working for his family’s import/export business. Soon, Mike says, he had all the material possessions he could hope for, but realised he was missing something more intrinsic: a sense of adventure, freedom and purpose. He gave away all of his belongings, quit his job and boarded a flight to Switzerland, where he lives to this day.

From then on, Mike has dedicated his life to adventure. In 1997 he became the first person to complete a solo traverse of the South American continent. In 1999 he completed the first circumnavigation of the equator without motorised support. In 2016, Mike started his traverse of Antarctica at its largest via the South Pole, which he completed in 2017. The traverse was one of his biggest exploits in his life as an explorer. He completed the record-breaking journey just under 57 days solo and unsupported. This expedition is part of his Pole2Pole expedition which started in May 2016 and is planned to end at the end of this year. He is now in Asia and will slowly make his way up North where he will cross the Arctic via the North Pole (from June to August 2018).

The expedition he is perhaps best known for, however, is his two-year and three-month solo circumnavigation of the Arctic Circle, which he began in 2002 and completed in 2004.

The expedition was arduous. Mike survived two winters, so he knew he could navigate in -65˚ and complete darkness. Then there was the tremendous physical effort: ‘I knew I needed up to 12,000 calories a day. All of that told me I could do the North Pole in winter.’

Mike’s Arctic endeavours caught the attention of Norwegian explorer Børge Ousland, who contacted Mike with a special request in 2005. ‘Børge was the first person to travel to the North Pole unsupported in summer,’ Mike explains. ‘He called me and said he wanted us to go back, together, in winter.’

Seeing himself as more of a solo explorer, Mike initially turned Børge down. Then he realised that while Børge would benefit from his knowledge of the Arctic in winter, he would benefit from Børge’s knowledge of the treacherous Arctic ice sheets. Mike called him back, and they agreed to go together.

Competitive to the core, Mike made a point of leaving their shared tent each morning before Børge to show he was the fitter, keener explorer. Later, when both men came to write about the expedition, Børge would recall how much this used to annoy him – a fact that still brings Mike joy.

‘We had a strange relationship,’ Mike says with a laugh. ‘We didn’t really speak to each other. I think we didn’t want to become friends because the risk was so high of losing your life. It was only when we reached the North Pole that we relaxed and allowed each other to become friends, and today we’re like brothers.’

Mountaineering was the next logical step. Unafraid of a challenge, Mike completed his first 8,000m+ peak in 2007, at the age of 41, joining climbers Jean Troillet, Fred Roux and Olivier Roduit on a mission to climb four Himalayan summits of 8,000m+ without oxygen. They succeeded in climbing Gasherbrum 1 (8,035m) and Gasherbrum 2 (8,068m) in an astonishing 10 days, but adverse weather shut down subsequent plans. The first climb affected Mike more than he had anticipated.

‘I didn’t know if I could go into altitude,’ he says. ‘These guys don’t take Sherpas, they use no fixed ropes. It was quite technical, and although I did a bit of mountaineering, I just didn’t know if I could survive. I found myself on the summit of Gasherbrum 1 after about 32 hours of non-stop climbing. I kept thinking “When am I going to go into the death zone, when am I going to run out of oxygen. When does it become really difficult?” I think my mind was completely detached.

‘Jean was sitting on the summit, he said just to leave him, and I did, without knowing that the guy might never come down again. Halfway down, I suddenly thought I saw him sitting on the ridge in front of me; in fact it was someone who’d died the year previously and had the same colour climbing shoes. I was very confused and realised that I needed to get down to where there was more oxygen, or I’d be completely lost.’

The experience sparked a fascination with climbing the highest peaks, but Mike says he will always prefer longer, solo expeditions. ‘I love climbing, but I don’t like the wait. With polar exploration, every day you have to get out of the tent, you’re moving. A climb to a mountain summit and back would be 30-40 hours, but Arctic exhibitions are longer, and more involved.’

High-altitude mountaineering helped to shape his philosophy on risk, teamwork, and his own personal limits. ‘You can’t put the life of somebody else in jeopardy when you make mistakes,’ Mike says. ‘I felt vulnerable in 2014 alone on the summit of Makalu. I reached the summit late, about 4pm, and when I saw darkness come over the mountains I didn’t know how I’d find my way back home. You have to follow your gut.’

Whatever challenge he faces, Mike continues to explore his calling in the narrow space between life and death. It is an approach that sums up his philosophy to life. ‘For me there is nothing between life and death,’ he says. ‘Either you’re alive, or you’re dead. Sometimes I think we’re walking on a thin line. At any time, we might make a mistake and fall. It’s only when the will to win becomes bigger than the fear to lose that you can go out there and take risks.’