Colin O'Brady Launches 'Further' — Solo, Unsupported Attempt to Cross Antarctica End-to-End

Colin O'Brady prepares for a record Antarctic crossing

Surrounded by duffel bags and neatly labeled packets of dried ramen, 40-year-old explorer Colin O'Brady spoke from an Airbnb in southern Chile about the expedition he calls Further. He plans a roughly 110-day, 1,780–1,800-mile solo and unsupported traverse of Antarctica, crossing the Ross and Filchner ice shelves and the land between them.

What he's attempting

If he completes the route without resupplies, kites or dogs, O'Brady would be the first person to cross the continent from ice-shelf to ice-shelf solo and unsupported. The route begins at the same Antarctic embarkation point used by Roald Amundsen in 1911 and extends far beyond O'Brady's 2018, 932-mile landmass crossing. Once he passes 932 miles, each step will be farther than any solo, unsupported distance previously recorded on the continent.

Risks, gear and routine

O'Brady's sled will weigh about 500 pounds at the outset — nearly 400 pounds of that is food and fuel intended to last roughly 110 days. He expects to burn about 10,000 calories per day, starting the trip at 205 pounds and estimating a loss of 60 to 70 pounds by the end. His routine will be austere: one set of clothing worn continuously, dehydrated meals, and snow melted on a small gas stove for water.

Navigation will often depend solely on a compass. Although the Antarctic summer offers 24-hour daylight, whiteouts and cloud cover can obscure landmarks: O'Brady estimates 30–40% of conditions may make visibility minimal.

Safety, communications and rescue limits

O'Brady carries a Starlink Mini to send about one photo or short message per day and a satellite phone for emergencies. Antarctic Logistics & Expeditions would manage any formal rescue response, but he stresses that severe storms can prevent aircraft from reaching a site for days or longer. "If your tent blows away in a storm," he warns, "it's not like someone can immediately swoop in to save you."

Preparation and support

To prepare he staged a seven-week training and mental-preparation program he calls "Love Camp" at an oceanfront home in Oregon. About 60 friends, family members and mentors joined morning meditations, workouts and rituals designed to sustain him through long stretches of isolation. His compact expedition team spans Chile and the U.S. and includes his partner Maryellis and longtime collaborators who handle logistics, communications and media.

Public scrutiny and legacy

O'Brady has faced public scrutiny: a 2020 National Geographic article accused him of overstating aspects of his 2018 crossing, claims he denied and asked the outlet to retract. He says this attempt is not an effort to silence critics but a personal and spiritual challenge. Netflix is documenting the expedition in a film directed by James Reed.

Personal background and motivations

O'Brady's story includes a dramatic recovery after a 2008 accident in Thailand left him with severe burns; doctors feared he might not walk normally again. Spurred by his mother, he trained for a triathlon and within 18 months won the Chicago Triathlon. Now a father to a young son, Banks, O'Brady says his motivations have broadened beyond personal achievement to include family and legacy.

“I'm really curious if I can push myself not just farther in distance... but in a spiritual context — mind, body, soul,” he said.

Respect for the land and caution

O'Brady said Antarctica feels like "virgin Earth," largely untouched, and he aims to leave no trace. He also acknowledges the real danger: he once survived an unroped crevasse fall and knows similar terrain awaits. He cited the death of British explorer Henry Worsley in a similar attempt as a sobering reminder and said he was moved when Worsley's family wished him well.

As he prepared to depart, O'Brady reflected on his modest upbringing and the idea that ordinary people can achieve extraordinary things when they dream big and persist. He will be followed by a small support team and a documentary crew until the flight out of Chile; once airborne, he says, "it's just me and the ice."