"Walking laboriously through minefields to the Taliban’s forward line, I pause to catch my breath. The impact of former shells on the gray ground has created white, round scars. But violence is not the strongest impression. Here in the thin mountain air, the world seems tired. Wispy clouds float against a light blue sky. Worn, goat-pocked mountains echo not with bleating but with the deeper thunder of explosions. The Talibs’ most forward position is a ridge littered with large shell casings, unexploded rockets, dug-up anti-tank mines, and thousands of 12.7 mm machine gun shells. Around me is an assortment of heavy and light weapons and I am cautioned not to stand up for too long or step off the path. ‘Mines…Snipers’ the young, black-turbaned mullah reminds me in sparse English. Overhead I can hear bullets whizzing and whistling, short twirps and whines of sound. It’s hard to explain how blasé you get about bullets, like flies that can kill you."
–From The Adventurist
So begins the autobiography of the man dubbed "Dangerman" (Toronto Globe and Mail); "tourist with an attitude" (Outside magazine); and "the patron saint of adventure travelers" (ZineZone.com). But The Adventurist is more than a book about eluding death, it’s a book about challenging life–the defining book for the adventure generation.