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Check out the new Long Reads, now with a real human voice! Outside Magazine Featured Editor Fred Drier is here to spin a tale about ultrarunning grit, determination, and transcendence ... and we're not even talking about the competitors. You may have heard about the Badwater 135. It's a running race that starts at the depths of Death Valley and goes all the way up to the trailhead at Mount Whitney. It's 135 miles, the runners go across scorching desert terrain and they cover a ton of elevation gain. You can't do the Bad Water 135 all by yourself. You need a crew to drive behind you in a follow car, get your food and drink and sunscreen ready, and also pace you across crucial stretches. This past year, Devin embedded with a crew for a Badwater 135 runner and told a story about what it's like to be in a hot van driving over more than a hundred miles following a person and keeping them going from start to finish. We hope you enjoy it.

Ed O’Brien is a songwriter and guitarist best known for his work with Radiohead, one of the most influential bands of the past three decades. What Ed isn’t known for—at least not until now—is the crushing mental health challenges he faced during the COVID pandemic. That “dark night of the soul,” as he refers to it, was only relieved by a re-ordering of his life around the Welsh countryside, where Ed was able to regain control and perspective thanks to barefoot walks in winter and birdsong. The whole experience is captured in his new album, and the accompanying short film, “Blue Morpho.” Ed joined PaddyO on the Ideas stage at Outside Days to tell us more.

A few months back, we asked you to send us any and all the questions you have on what it takes to create a weekly podcast about the surprising impacts of a life outside. And, dear listener, you sent in some stellar inquiries. Today, angry Care Bear co-producer Micah Abrams is flipping on his mic and turning the tables on host PaddyO. Micah acts as your proxy, asking PaddyO your questions. Ever wonder why he wanted to do an ultramarathon? Or what his favorite post-adventure meal is? Or what HIS hottest outdoor hot take is? You have questions, we have answers.

Even people who are uncomfortable getting in above their waist can be transformed by the ocean. But most of us connect with being on the water, not under it. What lies beneath our oceans is closer to another planet than anything on land, and the intrepid few who feel at home in this alien world are more like astronauts than typical outdoors folk. Filmmaker and diver Pippa Ehrlich is one of these astronauts. Pippa is the co-director of the Oscar-winning documentary “My Octopus Teacher,” which explores the unique relationship between an octopus and a free diver. The film was a natural extension of a life lived largely underwater—scuba and freediving have defined her adult life, and inspired her to explore the human/wildlife connection through other films like the more recent “Pangolin: Kulu’s Journey.” Above water or below it, Pippa’s a keen observer of our outdoor environments, the creatures we share them with, and how all three things intersect in beautiful and surprising ways. And, if you don’t believe, just ask her about the baboon who stole her phone.

If you’re a fan of food TV, you’ve probably seen chef and TV host Andrew Zimmern, whose hit show “Bizarre Foods” ran for 13 seasons and had him eating everything from guinea pigs to clotted cow’s blood. Andrew has made a career following the rumble in his belly—and a love of fishing and hunting—on way-out-there adventures in places like Madagascar and Colombia. Before his big break on TV, Andrew was one of the hottest young chefs in New York City. Then drug addiction and alcoholism derailed his career, his outdoor pursuits, and nearly his life itself. When Andrew uprooted to Minnesota to get sober, he learned two things that saved him: You’ve got to ask for help in order to get it and when you don’t believe in anything, go outside to find something. Which, of course, led him to the opinion that possum tastes better than raw cookie dough, and gas station pizza may just be the best post adventure food of all time.

Chances are you have a storage space, garage, car trunk, and slash or cornucopia of plastic bins double stuffed with outdoor gear; anything and everything you need to get outside and get rad. But the most valuable piece of gear is something you can’t buy at your local shop: a sense of humor. Professional struggle runner Erin Azar knows this all too well. Erin is a runner and social media personality better known by her online persona, “Mrs. Space Cadet.” She amassed nearly 2 million followers by posting hilarious, unfiltered videos documenting her triumphs and mostly sweaty, out of breath trials as a burgeoning runner. In 2019, a few months after giving birth to her third child. Erin made a funny video about trying to run to the end of the road and back. It…blew up and she’s been lacing up runners and turning the camera on ever since. But she’s no formulaic, overly manicured, highly produced, and typical running influencer. Erin is just a regular ole person who likes to run and knows it’s a helluva lot more fun and a helluva lot easier to make it a few more miles when she's laughing at herself.

Do you have opinions about our use of automated voices on the Long Reads episodes? Tell us! https://survey.alchemer.com/s3/8881338/11781bd91e29 Every now and then, the writers at Outside discover a story that is set in the outdoors, but is about something much, much larger—sometimes these stories are about universal truths or paradigm-shifting discoveries. And sometimes, they cross into areas that escape our comprehension altogether. Today’s tale is one of those, and, after listening, you’ll never look at a moving leaf in the woods the same way. Join Frank Bures as he retraces the journey of an anthropologist named Neal Whitehead through the forests and indigenous communities of Guyana. Whitehead begins looking for evidence of the societies that gave rise to the legend of El Dorado, but stumbles instead upon an ancient tradition of witchcraft known as “kanaima.” (kah-knee-muh) What follows is a story of curiosity turned to obsession, and several brushes with apparently supernatural forces that are anything but benign—and that’s before Bures arrives in Guyana nearly twenty years after Whitehead, after which it just gets weirder. Please enjoy “I Traced an Anthropologist's Deadly Obsession with the Dark World of Kanaima” by Frank Bures … unless you don’t like ghost stories, in which case, maybe sit this one out?

Sandbagging is a right of passage in adventure. When a pal or significant other deliberately undersells the difficulty or intensity of an adventure in order to convince you to join, despite the fact that you’re either new to the sport in question or woefully under-trained slash unprepared for the outing, has a special way of pushing you out of your comfort zone and revealing that we are pretty tough after all. Sandbagging always involves two people: the ass kicker and the ass kick-ee. Unless of course you’re stand up comedian Brooks Wheelan and you enjoy kicking the crap outta your own ass. Brooks is a devoted outdoorsman who has deployed an “all gas, no brakes” attitude when it comes to both adventure and his career. Never been rafting before? No problemo, Brooks will boat the Grand Canyon. Get hired on Saturday Night Live without ever being on TV? Pssh, piece of cake. Turns out there is immense value in getting pushed beyond your limits, even when—or maybe especially when—you’re the one doing the pushing.

Howdy pals. It’s Saturday, which means it’s time for another Long Read podcast from the Outside Archive. Tragic endings are all too common in the Himalaya, but the 2024 deaths of Anna Gutu and Gina Rzucidlo on the relatively obscure Tibetan mountain Shishapangma resonated beyond the cloistered world of 8,000-meter climbing. The two women died in separate avalanches on the same day, raising troubling questions about how accessible these peaks have become and how the business of guiding has evolved. Outside always covers these incidents with empathy, authority, and exacting attention to detail, and journalist Gloria Liu’s comprehensive reconstruction of both women’s journeys to Shishapangma—as well as her breathless hour-by-hour account of the final day—is no different. She tells the story of two women who were accomplished and driven but not elite level climbers, who both set out to become the first American woman to climb all 14 of the world’s 8,000-meter peaks. Coincidence found them trying to claim that prize on the same mountain, on the same day; competition had them each making decisions that everyone on the mountain that day would come to regret. This is “Death on Shishapangma”, by Gloria Liu, read by a friendly robot.

We will look for all sorts of things to fuel our adventures: the new electrolyte drink mix, the fancy sport goo, any and every type of futuristic gear. But mostly the best thing to get us outside is already inside of us in the form of a good old fashioned eff this attitude. Allie Bianchi grew up in the gritty Vermont outdoor community. A skier, hiker, mountain biker, no matter the weather or circumstance, Allie was always outside. So even after a life-altering mountain bike crash forced her to relearn everything from a wheelchair, Allie was determined to remain active in her pursuits. But doctors told her that she had to accept a sedentary wheelchair-bound life, needing round the clock assistance. Allie said, “F*ck that! I’m going outside.” She has set her sights on The Driving Range, the nation’s first fully adaptive mountain bike trail network in the US. Located in Bolton, Vermont. With the help of adaptive sports organizations like the Kelly Brush Foundation and Vermont Adaptive, as well as the devoted outdoor community she comes from, Allie is indeed still out there, getting after it.