Explore Alex Harris

Spending a few days with Aaron my 11 year old at the Tampa 7’s rugby tournament.

Spent the day with . recording parts 3 and 4 for the . Stories from the South Pole and our Arabian Desert (Empty Quarter) crossing. Should be fun!

These were two very different expeditions.

One was always -40. The other, always 110!

One was only sand. The other only ice.

One we pulled a sled. The other a cart.

They were both desperate. Which was easier? You’ll have to listen to find out!

Spent the morning recording with the guys from the Anything but Typical Podcast Gary Frey and Ben MacDonald!

Spoke about Everest, the Munga and what’s next! Thanks for the great Charlotte hospitality! NC rocks!🙏

Gary Frey

Check out 's Part 1 podcast featuring some of my early expeditions and ultra bike racing adventures!

The God Seeker Podcast - Trinity Dallas The God Seeker Podcast The God Seeker Podcast with Joe Martin, Jr is a resource for listeners seeking to deepen their faith and understanding of God’s purpose in their lives. Whether you’re a seasoned believer or just beginning your spiritual journey, the God Seeker Podcast is here to accompany ...

The Precious - our greatest distraction in the Arabian Desert!

This is also a story about our 600 mile Empty Quarter crossing. It’s quite funny but has some great truth.

Our journey started at the sea in southern Oman. Dave and I were pulling, with Marco walking off to the side. An hour in and Marco lets out a shout. He has just found a 5 carat diamond ring on the side of the road! What! We stop and stare gobsmacked at the gem glistening in his hand and pass it round for all to see. We are jubilant, ecstatic actually, for we know this will bring a handsome bonus that we will all share in.

For the next three days life is peachy. We move quickly along the paved road into the Dhofar mountains and then we enter the Nedj, ten days of hard, gravely surface that pound our legs. Then it’s the oasis of Mughsin and beyond that, the high dunes near the Saudi border. Three weeks in and life is miserable. The days are long and hot and we are slowly dying of thirst. By now our ring has been dubbed ‘the precious’. We would forget about it during the day, but in the evening, as we collapsed next to a sand dune and set up camp, someone would remember the precious and call out for it desperately. Then we would sit in the sand and pass it round, and stare at it, and let the last light glance off the jewel and entrance us. Life would feel great again and we would dream of the fortune awaiting for us at the end of the journey.

On occasion we would forget who had ‘the precious’ and loose it for a while. It would be a terrible few moments as we struggled with the anguish of maybe having lost it and the handsome bounty. Then someone would dig it out of a pocket and we would be jubilant again. This went on for weeks. There was no doubt, we had found favour. Thus, slowly and inexorably ‘the precious’ began to grow its hold over us until not an evening went by without us coddling it and gorging on its beauty. It was our all.

Around midday on day forty we pulled up to the Hyatt on Dubai Creek and unclipped from the cart for the last time. We were thin, messy, and above all, smelly. The rest of that day we spent eating, washing and lazing in the pool. But all the time ‘the precious’ was close, calling, begging for one last cuddle. The next morning after breakfast we ran across the road to the Dubai Mall and straight to the nearest jeweller. Our gem had now risen in value to hundred of thousands of dollars.

“It’s fake”. “Sorry, what?” “It’s fake” he said. “Nothing but a cubic zirconia”

We were crushed. Deflated. Nauseous even. We loped off like losers for an expensive haircut and tried to distract ourselves from the ignominy of defeat. I was tempted to toss the ‘not so precious’ but I did not. I kept it as a reminder and still bring it out during my Desert talk. How much effort and energy had we put into idolising this thing. How much hope, wasted. All for nothing. It was worthless. Where is your hope? What is your ‘precious’?


*A picture of the Precious!

The Scarcity Vacuum

In 2013 I led a small team to make the first unsupported crossing of the Arabian Desert, or Empty Quarter. For 40 days we pulled a cart 600 miles across a hot and dry wasteland. Just 3 times we stopped at wells to fill up with water.

From the outset the problem was always water. 3 people pulling a 1000 pound cart for 10 hours a day in temps of 110 degrees required almost 10 litres each per day, or 2.5 gallons. Well, that's what the nutritionists said. Any less and you will die they said! But no matter how we tweaked the numbers, the cart could not carry more than half that amount.

Two weeks after setting off we arrived at the small oasis of Muqshin and our first water refill. A week later we were entering the high dunes near the Saudi border and the most desperate part of the journey. Not a minute went by of every hour without thinking about water. My mind played a continuous highlights reel of every memory I ever had about water. Images raced through my cortex with a debilitating coolness that was hallucinatory. I pictured taps running, heard toilets flushing, dived deep into oceans, swam across mountain pools, played football topless in afternoon rain storms, all in my mind. We would stop and stare off at some shimmering mirage, and debate whether it was a rock pool or well. We would pray for the Lord to crack open the sand and bring forth cool streams…but nothing. Just the taunt of our blue water containers and our daily ration. I obsessed about water. I worshiped it, craved it, and desperately fell in love with its clear coolness. It had become a God.

I formed a strategy of how I would appreciate it more back in normal life. I promised to never take it for granted again. I carved out time each day to formalise this new will to live. Water would be the most precious thing in my life. Never, ever, ever again would I squander it. But it was not to be. After the first glass, just like that, the mad desire was gone. But the thoughts remained. It puzzled me that I could forget so quickly how desperate I was for it. Where had my zeal gone? I tried to push that same zealous mindset onto my kids, but found them to be, well, normal. Why? You see, that desperate scarcity had created a vacuum, and it was filled by a ravenous desire, a well intended philosophy to make it count. But once the water was back, the vacuum was gone, and so was the craving. The two cannot co-exist. We cannot have access to water or anything and relish it with profound intensity at the same time. I was crushed. But then I realised that I can still be mindful of the construct. I can still sit in the presence of my kids knowing I might not zealously desire them then and there, but still appreciate them. And that is ok.

To cherish something doesn't mean to smother it in affection, but rather to know there was a time when we did not have it and craved it, and might not have it again. But we have it now. And that is enough. Crown Speakers Bureau BigSpeak

So fortunate to be invited to participate in a men’s retreat at the wonderful Ranger Ridge ranch near Sprawn. Meeting some special folk. Cory Huddleston Cory Huddleston

Understanding Risk.

In 2009 I led a small team to try and make the first South African ascent of Broad Peak, one of the 8000m peaks. Broad Peak and K2 lie right next to each other, so it's a great way to see if there is a ‘safe’ line on the latter, which we had hoped to come back and climb.

2009 also saw a resurgence in Taliban activity in Pakistan, and strange as it may seem, this had a profound effect on the overall safety of some of the high peaks in the upper Baltoro. Early in the season it became apparent that two of the major guiding companies had canceled their expeditions to Broad Peak and would no longer be coming out. They felt the political risk was now too great. When you are a smaller team like we were, with just four climbers, you are in part reliant on the bigger expeditions to do the bulk of the rope fixing. Fixed ropes on an 8000m peak allows the quick and safe passage up and down potentially dangerous slopes while you are acclimatising.

As we arrived at BC and setup our home for the next six weeks, we toiled with this conundrum. We had just one High Altitude Porter (HAP) for our team of four and he was not going anywhere until ropes were in place. Most of the route on Broad Peak follows easy angled faces and ridges on snow and ice (30 to 40 degrees). Ordinarily, if you were climbing this alpine style, you would happily climb unroped on this terrain or simul-climb (two people roped together placing ice gear as they climb at the same time). But on a 8000m peak, you are setting up multiple camps and carrying plenty of loads, so being heavily weighed down while climbing unroped poses an additional risk. We knew we could not wait on the hope that a bigger team might arrive, but we also knew we could not make our HAP climb. So we had the simple decision of trying to stock camps one and two on our own efforts.

Six weeks later and it’s time for a summit bid. I have teamed up with a lone Polish climber as the rest of my team is out. We climb quickly up to C3. The next day we will push for the summit. But as I approach high camp set below the summit ridge, something doesn't feel right. My first born was just 6 months old. Five trips to 8000m peaks in the last ten years had taken their toll. I sensed, just quietly, that the Lord was asking me what I wanted to do with the rest of my life? Did I want to grow a family, or keep chasing high peaks? My risk was not in the objective hazards of the mountain, but in my life trajectory that was at odds with what was on my heart. I knew in that moment the end had come. Not just for my Broad Peak expedition, but for 8000m peaks in general.

Sometimes we look just at the metrics externally to assess risk and don't really pay attention to the internal thermostat. It’s one thing to have the specific risks on a day to day basis mitigated, but its far more crucial to make sure your trajectory is on a path that lines up with your risk profile.

*Climbing unroped up to C1.

𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗦𝗛 𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗞𝗬 𝗖𝗬𝗖𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗢𝗨𝗥
7 to 15 July 2026 | Scotland

Cycle into the wild heart of Scotland’s west coast.

Join Alex Harris on an unforgettable journey through Scotland’s remote Western Islands, where quiet ferries, sweeping coastal roads, and rugged island trails link together some of the world’s most character filled whisky destinations.

This is slow travel done right. Ride through dramatic landscapes, breathe in sea air, and savour a handpicked selection of exceptional whiskies, enjoyed at the distilleries themselves, exactly where they are made.

From iconic island roads to hidden trails, from saddle time to single malts, this tour blends adventure, culture, and flavour in a way few experiences ever do.

Pedal the islands. Taste the heritage. Experience Scotland properly.

👉 Find out more and reserve your place:
🌐 www.explorealexharris.com

𝗥𝗢𝗔𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗭𝗔𝗕𝗔
20 – 26 September 2026 | Mexico & 17-23 January 2027

Rise to the challenge of one of the world’s most iconic mountains.

Pico de Orizaba is a dormant volcano and Mexico’s highest peak, straddling the states of Veracruz and Puebla. Towering at over 18,000 feet, it stands as the second most prominent volcanic peak on Earth, after Mount Kilimanjaro.

This is a journey of altitude, endurance, and awe, where glaciers, volcanic rock, and sweeping views combine into a true high-altitude adventure.

Led by Alex Harris, this expedition is designed for those who want more than a summit, it’s about the road, the challenge, and the stories earned along the way.

Feel the altitude. Trust the process. Stand on the roof of Mexico.

👉 Contact Alex to experience the adventure:
🌐 www.explorealexharris.com