Ed Stafford - Walking the Amazon: 861 Days

In April 2008, Ed Stafford began his attempt to become the first man ever to walk the entire length of the River Amazon. Nearly two and a half years later, he had crossed the whole of South America from the Pacific coast of Peru to reach the mouth of the worlds most colossal river.

With danger a constant companion outwitting crocodiles and killer bees, avoiding jaguars and pit vipers, not to mention overcoming the hurdles of injuries and relentless tropical storms Eds journey demanded extreme physical and mental strength. Often warned by the Peruvian natives that he would die, Ed even found himself pursued by machete-wielding tribesman and detained for murder.

However, Eds journey was an adventure with a purpose: to help raise peoples awareness of environmental issues. Ed has unprecedented access to indigenous communities and witnessed first-hand the devastating effects of deforestation. His story of disappearing tribes and loss of natural habitats concerns us all.

Ultimately though, Amazon is an account of a world-first expedition that takes readers on the most daring journey along the worlds greatest river and through the most bio-diverse habitat on earth.

Ed Stafford started running expeditions after retiring from the British Army as a captain in 2002 and has led expeditions all over the world. When not leading trips, Ed worked alongside the United Nations in Afghanistan assisting with the running of the first-ever presidential elections. Prior to this journey Ed was in production with the BBC on their conservation series Lost Land of the Jaguar. In August 2010, Ed became the first man to walk the length of the River Amazon, accompanied by forestry worker Gadiel Cho Sanchez Rivera for all but four months of the 28-month journey.

860 Days. The Impossible Task.

The Incredible Journey

Ed Stafford

For my dad, Jeremy Stafford, for moral courage, mental strength and unquestioning love.

WHEN THE TRUSTEES of the Transglobe Expedition Trust (TET) first heard of Ed Staffords planned attempt to walk the length of the Amazon, we asked some notable authorities on the region for their opinion. The reply came back impossible. TET likes to support projects that are so challenging that they risk failure. We like to share the risks in the hope that, against the odds, the expedition will succeed and make a significant impact in the evolution of human achievement. Our Patron, HRH The Prince of Wales, in describing the 1979 Transglobe Expedition, referred to it as mad (as an almost impossible goal) but marvellous (in its achievement). Ed Staffords plans were clearly mad and, if he succeeded against the advice of the pundits, it would also be marvellous.

When Ed set out, he was accompanied by a colleague, Luke Collyer. For various reasons, Luke had had enough after three months and returned to the UK. Undeterred, Ed carried on. One of the most impressive aspects of his performance throughout this expedition is Eds absolute determination to succeed. On an almost daily basis, he must have faced obstacles that would put most people off. His is a truly magnificent demonstration of the stubborn grit that you need to succeed in such difficult and dangerous terrain. Five months into the expedition, Ed met Gadiel Cho Sanchez, a local who agreed to walk for five days with Ed. Two years later Ed and Cho were still marching.

We in the TET are delighted and hugely impressed by Ed and Chos success, not only in the physical achievement but also in Eds dedication to relaying on his website the environmental and humanitarian stories, which were followed by both schoolchildren and adults around the world. Such stories draw much-needed attention to the very real problems that exist in the Amazon basin and beyond.

I am delighted to have been involved as a supporter and look forward to hearing what Ed will be attempting next. You can be sure it will be every bit as mad and, hopefully, equally marvellous.

Sir Ranulph Fiennes

AFTER RECEIVING A very direct warning over the HF radio that we would be killed if we decided to continue our journey, we reach the downriver end of the shingle island in the middle of the Amazon. I drop my inflated pack raft into the shallow brown waters and roll my heavy backpack off my stiff, grimy back and into the rubber boat.

Mira, Ed, atrs. Look, Ed, behind you, says Cho calmly. As I turn I see five dugout canoes coming towards us fast, full of indigenous Indians. Many of the Indians are standing up in the narrow boats; bows drawn, arrows trained on us. Those who are seated are thrusting hard with big wooden paddles.

Fuck. My T-shirt clings to my body and sweat pours down my temples. My body is still but my heart is quickening, adrenaline pours into my brain allowing me to process the imminent danger rapidly. My perception of time slows down. The carved boats cut through the choppy river fluently. The dangerous scene in the middle distance is framed by a green wall of overhanging jungle beyond. The brown faces of the Asheninka men and women are warlike and fierce, highlighted by lines of bright red face paint. I notice the women are all clutching machetes.

As the boats beach, the tribe leap out and run directly towards us. The mens faces are now taut with anger, eyes wide and white, and the women look possessed. Cho and I are unarmed, with nowhere to run, trapped at the tip of the island like animals. Every sense is now alert and our minds ignore all that is not relevant to immediate survival.

A FURIOUS CAGE of heavy tropical rain enclosed the wall-less bar. The extraordinary force of water drowned out the persistent Creole drums from across the muddy street. A cool evening freshness accompanied the rain, cutting through the usual humidity. I sat, beer in hand, with a fellow expedition leader, Luke Collyer, and breathed in the cleansing power of nature. As we reclined in low wooden chairs, a ball of excited apprehension sat conspicuously in both of our stomachs. Wed just come to a decision that could change our lives for ever and we had shaken on it. We had agreed to attempt to walk the entire length of the Amazon River together. My eyes gleamed and I grinned at Luke. Fucking hell, mate this is going to be mental.

It was January 2007 and we were in the former British colony of Belize, Central America, running conservation expeditions for a British organisation called Trekforce. Id just relocated our field base from the capital of Belize City to the smaller, more Latin town of San Ignacio near the Guatemalan border. Most people here were mestizos, a mix of indigenous Mayan and colonial Spanish, but there was a handful of Creole settlers who were relatively new to the town.

The following morning we stumbled round the field base in our boxer shorts eating egg banjos (fried-egg sandwiches) and drinking imported Earl Grey tea. Surprisingly, when the subject of the Amazon walk came up again neither of us backed down from the gentlemens agreement. It would have been fairly excusable to blame the bravado on alcohol but, as we scratched our stubble and our balls waiting for the shower, we were both even more animated about the idea than we had been the previous evening.