Sarah Marquis - Wild by Nature: From Siberia to Australia, Three Years Alone in the Wilderness on Foot

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To my dog, DJoe, who gave me so much

To all the women throughout the world who are still fighting for their freedom

Im back in the Swiss Alps after three years away, and everything is pretty much as it was, on the surface. I, myselfadventurer, woman, companion, daughter, sister, speaker, friendam finding my place again in the scenery. My daily life is surprising, even exciting. Im beginning to readjust to my old life, but things are different. In fact, nothing is as it was before. To start with, Ive just survived three years of tumultuous adventures. And, believe me, this detail was not a foregone conclusion.

Today, I dont recognize the rhythm of my pen squeaking on paper as I attempt to faithfully capture the phrases that tumble through my head. My memory wont seem to unwind all the way; it feels like my whole being doesnt really want to remember. Its as though Ive been forever marked by the hostile regions I crossed step by step, disguised as a man. There were so many nights when I fell asleep with danger prowling nearby. I could only ask my guardian angel for protection. In those moments, I forced myself to swallow high doses of positive thoughts, leaving no room for negative thinking. It was my only weapon. Today, like a wild fawn, I continue to slip into the scenery as Ive habitually done for the past three years. I still have survival instincts that emerge in my daily gestures. Its like I have a huge tattoo, from three years of walking on my body, in my spirit, on my heart. I cant erase or hide it. This is how I am now.

Here, everything is so comfortable. Water comes out of the faucet, the fridge is full of good things to eat, and I even have an automatic coffee machine. I lift my eyes from my writing and move toward the coffeemaker, anxious to hear it purr.

I never asked myself how I would do it. What I felt at the deepest level was a sensation so strong that it became self-evident. I was going to become an adventurer.

* * *

So many stepsso many adventureswere needed to answer the single question: Why do I walk? The explanation is so simple as to be almost logical, pragmatic. Its enough to make me wonder if all these years, all these steps were really necessary to arrive at this understanding. And still, I cant help but think they were. I smile in recalling these years, having followed the signs of destiny all this time.

Its only in looking back through my wide-angle lens that I come to perceive these signs, to understand them, to feel them. The farther away I get, the more I see. Its why I never feel alone. My life until this point has been a mix of excitement, sweat, pure adventure, wild creatures with unpronounceable Latin names, hairy, bare chests where I rested my head for an instantall mixed with enough danger to keep me alert. This existence has also been full of choices. I wont be able to get everything down on paper, and yet, especially for women, I would like to record all of it, so as to leave a testament that tells of freedom, the freedom to choose ones life.

The story that follows is my story. I dedicate it to all of the women throughout the world who still fight for their freedom and to those who have gained it, but dont use it.

Put on your shoes. Were going walking.

Before a departure

I wanted to be alone on my walk, but not just that. My mission was both much more serious and at the same time unique.

A sublime sensation started growing in me the moment that leaving showed itself to be the only option. I knew deep in my heart that this departure was the only way to be loyal to the fire that burned within me. I could feel it weakening, the flame was shrinking. It was time to go out and collect the wood that would allow me to rediscover my lifes flame.

Thats how I left. On foota fact that presented itself to me as obviousand alone.

Dont misunderstand me. I didnt one day just jump in an airplane, thinking, Cool, Im going to cross the globe walking from north to south!

It required a huge undertaking, with tons of determination and energy, all before even beginning to walk. I had to put together a team that I could count on, with an expedition leader. For my two previous expeditions, my brother Jol had been by my side. Sabrina, his partner, had taken care of all the logistics for the Path of the Andes expedition. We planned everything over coffee, with no headaches, laughing as we went, sharing love for a job well done. After my last expedition, Jol set down his suitcases with his partner and their young daughter. He started his own mountain excursion business, to which he devotes all his time. So I knew that this expedition would take place without him.

My twenty years of experience in this field has taught me that its vital to anticipate any and all potential problems. I therefore set out to find someone living in each of the countries I was going to cross who could speak English and who, in case of an emergency, could organize an evacuation, talk with the authorities, take care of visas, etc.

* * *

In discussing preparations, its important to take stock of the complexity of the project. In total: six countries to cross, diverse and varied terrain ranging from jungle to desert, from hot to cold, from snow to sand. As is my habit, I dont leave without equipping myself with good old topographic maps on paper, essential in my eyes. My new expedition leader suggests digital maps, which would have the advantage of being lighter. Something to keep in mind, maybe as plan B.

These operations have a cost that I have to determine and budget for in order to move on to the next step: finding partners to sponsor my expedition, which Ive baptized eXplorAsia. At the same time, I need to devote myself to my physical preparation with an intense training program aimed at endurance.

And there it is, two years of preparation in a nutshell. Alone, I launched the machine of this gigantic initiative. As time progressed, good people appeared, as well as some who were not so good. Then one day we got the definite go-ahead. I could finally shift from the planning to the active phase of my expedition.

Vevey, Switzerland, June 2010one week before departure

Its only three oclock in the afternoon, but Im exhausted. I lie down on my dogs bed, sharing it with him. Im sad. Im going to have to leave DJoe in Switzerland. Each time my eyes fall on his wild coat flecked with red, white, and blue-grey, I can feel Australia, and it reminds me of our crazy adventuresthe fire from which he saved my life, our long days without food, our stiflingly hot desert crossings, and our night walks when he wanted nothing more than to sleep.

His breed is the closest a dog gets to a dingo. DJoe is a Red Heeler, or Australian cattle dog. I saved his life on a farm when he was about seven.

This happened during my expedition to Australia, from 2002 to 2003, when I walked 8,700 miles6,200 of them in DJoes companyacross the most isolated zones on the continent. When we met, I made him a backpack and he became part of my life. Since then, weve shared everything. It seemed completely natural when DJoe touched Swiss earth in the winter of 2003, after a remarkable flight. With no money, I had to call on people who had supported me from the beginning to fund the transport and quarantine costs of my loyal companion. I can never thank those of you who repatriated DJoe enough for your generosity.