What project are you working on now? 

I have some big trips that aren’t set in stone yet, but my biggest project lately is learning how to live in one spot after having lived in my car to travel.

How do you choose what subjects you photograph? 

Societal resilience has always interested me and my larger projects have been about post-natural disaster communities, but in general, photographing people is what I would prefer.

Have you ever been lost? How’d you get found? 

Yes, both mentally and physically. Whenever I’m feeling lost in the world, I drive into the mountains and take photographs, which always seems to give me a paradigm shift. Physically, I get lost all the time. I have a terrible sense of direction but a great memory. Once I’m in a place twice or more, it starts to look familiar and I can find my way back but could never tell you the street names.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve discovered in your work or in the field? 

The biggest surprise of working the field was how excited people were to share their culture, homes, and knowledge with us while in Banda Aceh, Sumatra, for my Young Explorers grant project. It was my first trip abroad, so the kindness of strangers made all the difference in making the expedition easier and photo locations more accessible.

Photograph by Becca Skinner

If you could trade places with one explorer at National Geographic, who would it be and why? 

I’m not sure that I would trade places, but there are definitely a couple National Geographic explorers whose work I really admire. The late Bobby Model always created images that have inspired me. Jimmy Chin‘s work is consistently jaw-dropping and I would love to jump on an expedition with Lynsey Addario, who is a role model of mine.

What do you think National Geographic explorers will be exploring in 100 years? 

I’m sure National Geographic will keep uncovering secrets about lost tribes, researching the deepest and darkest places of the ocean, and exploring the far corners of space.

Where is your favorite place that you’ve traveled? 

Even though it’s one of the most traveled places, Yosemite National Park always amazes me.

If you had unlimited funds, what would your next photography project be?

I would love to go back to Sumatra and research the post-conflict society of Banda Aceh. Before the devastating tsunami in 2004, the province was immersed in a brutal civil conflict that had lasted over 30 years. The tsunami acted as a peace treaty between both parties. Aceh is unique in that way, as it is both a post-disaster and post-conflict society learning how to live again.

If you were to meet your eight-year-old self, what would you say? 

When I was about nine, I remember telling a friend that I wanted to shoot photos for National Geographic. She told me that it was everyone’s dream, so I should probably give it up. I would go back and tell my nine-year-old self to keep exploring, not listen to her advice, and ask a lot of questions about the way the world works.

What project are you working on now? 

Right now, I’m really focused on Appalachian salamanders of the family Plethodontidae. This is the world’s most diverse and speciose family of salamanders, and the southern Appalachians are a global hot spot for these lungless salamanders. Currently, I’m working on using a technique called ‘environmental DNA’ or ‘eDNA’ to detect the presence of these salamanders from a water sample. I also really enjoy photographing this visually impressive group and have been slowly amassing a large collection of photographs.

What initially sparked your interest in biology? 

I grew up spending a good deal of time outdoors fishing with my father and hiking with my family, and at the same time, I began keeping frogs as pets. The confluence of these two hobbies came soon enough, and I was fortunate to find a good community of like-minded friends when I began searching for and photographing amphibians and reptiles in the wild.

Where is your favorite place that you’ve traveled?

I’ve really enjoyed my time in the highlands of Guatemala. This region’s plethodontid salamander diversity is second only perhaps to the southern Appalachians, and its coffee and corn tortillas are unrivaled anywhere.

Do you have a favorite species of reptile or amphibian? 

As I mentioned earlier, I’m partial to the salamanders of the family Plethodontidae. In particular, the brook salamanders of the genus Eurycea are some of my favorites. This group is widely variable and inhabits some of my favorite habitats of the region. Some species are remarkably common, but I still enjoy the opportunity to see and photograph them whenever possible.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve discovered in your work or in the field?

I’m not always successful in my searches, so finding the creature I’m searching for is always a bit of an enjoyable surprise! Sometimes, though, the bycatch is just as good. One memorable encounter was my first (and to this day, only) alligator snapping turtle (Macrochelys temminckii). While on a University of Georgia field trip, I wandered off from our group and walked up on the 60-pound turtle soaking up the sun in a shallow cypress swamp.

Photograph courtesy Todd Pierson

Have you ever been lost? How’d you get found? 

I have a pretty poor innate sense of direction and am perpetually lost. Fortunately, friends and GPS devices are usually there to set things straight. A particularly humorous occasion was when I got turned around in a tidal swamp in Guyana and gave up hope just as a storm came in. I crouched over my camera in the buttress roots of a nearby tree to wait out the storm, only to realize afterwards that my camp was a mere 15 meters behind me. I told you—I lack a reliable internal compass!

Where is your favorite place that you’ve traveled?

I’ve really enjoyed my time in the highlands of Guatemala. This region’s plethodontid salamander diversity is second only perhaps to the southern Appalachians, and its coffee and corn tortillas are unrivaled anywhere.

Have you had any scary experiences in the field?

Not particularly. I’ve had the usual whoa-there’s-a-snake-by-my-boot encounters, stomach-turning reactions to local microbiota, and the like, but my life has never seemed at risk. I wouldn’t mind keeping it that way!

If you could trade places with one explorer at National Geographic, who would it be and why? 

I’d switch with Robert Ballard. Deep-sea exploration is just about the most otherworldly adventure I could ever imagine. Given the chance, I’d take the plunge.

If you were to meet your eight-year-old self, what would you say? 

I’d tell him to watch less television and start studying Chinese.

What do you think National Geographic explorers will be exploring in 100 years?

I recently heard for the first time that I was “born too late to explore the Earth and too early to explore the cosmos.” Despite the fact that we are simultaneously still exploring the Earth and expanding into the rest of the universe, I can empathize with the sentiment. Nothing dominates my daydreams as much as the potential for extraterrestrial life, and we’d be fortunate to be able to explore this ‘final frontier’ someday.

What project are you working on now?

I’m working on evaluating the effect of changing monsoon strength on ecosystems in East Africa using stable isotopes. Stable isotope ratios are relative amounts of heavy and light isotopes of certain elements, such as carbon and oxygen, and these ratios can tell us a lot about what an animal has been eating and its climate, so we get a little window on what the world used to be like. Stable isotopes in the teeth of large herbivores that lived during the last 10,000 years tell us about how changing monsoon strength affected such things as local climate and environment, and we can use this information to understand what environmental trigger might have caused people to switch from a hunter-gather lifestyle to keeping livestock, which happened about 4,500 years ago after a distinct increase in aridity in East Africa. I’m also working on some isotope ecology projects on modern ecosystems in Uganda as a rubric for understanding isotopic information from fossils.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve discovered in your work or in the field?

Working in the field is full of surprises, from which fossils you’ll be able to find and where you find them. And there’s nothing like walking around for hours, finding nothing, then stopping to take a break under a tree and casually glancing over and seeing that particular fossil or artifact you’ve been looking for all day (or for days). A lot of prospecting is pure luck.

Have you ever been lost? How’d you get found?

I haven’t been lost (yet), but I have been in some rather dicey situations, such as being stuck out in the desert without water for a few hours and being stopped at a flooded river until 1 a.m., when we decided to ford it with ropes. This past summer, I needed to get to the opposite side of Lake Turkana—either a four-day drive through difficult and somewhat dangerous territory (and I didn’t have a car), a short ride in a bush plane, or a long and somewhat treacherous boat ride across the lake (which is full of hippos and crocodiles). I was offered a ride in a plane but without guarantee for a return trip, and I really needed the samples, so I took the flight, not knowing how I would get back. In the end, Dr. Louise Leakey was kind enough to fly me back in her plane.

If you could trade places with one explorer at National Geographic, who would it be and why?

When I was in fifth grade, I read Jane Goodall’s book My Life With the Chimpanzees. I wanted to go someplace remote and live there and run around a jungle and do science. I love hearing the stories of all of the people who worked in East Africa in the 1960s and ‘70s, and when I think I have things tough, I look up to them for inspiration. It was really their pioneering work and tenacity that paved the way for young people like me, and it’s a real honor to be a part of the next generation.

If you were to meet your eight-year-old self, what would you say?

Remember that mean teacher who told you that you couldn’t do science or be an adventurer because you’re a girl? She was wrong.

Photograph by Glynis Jehle

Where is your favorite place that you’ve traveled?

It’s cliché, but I never get tired of going to Turkana, ever. I feel the mystery of our ancestors everywhere. It’s a place that’s at the same time desolate and harsh but also inviting and enchanting. In particular, the inside of Lothagam on the west side of the lake, with its massive red canyons and ancient Miocene deposits, is serene and scary at the same time. The local people think there are ghosts in Lothagam and prefer not to go there. This past summer, I was working in a ~7,000-year-old fishing site in the center of Lothagam, while another team of archeologists excavated a site about two kilometers away. They were negotiating a price for two local Turkana men to guard it overnight and they kept upping the rate because of the ghosts. Then, one of the men pointed to a khaki-clad white figure on top of some sediments in the distance (me), and said, “There! There’s the ghost!” to which the archaeologists replied, “That’s not a ghost—that’s a geologist!”

What initially sparked your interest in paleoecology?

As an undergraduate, I did a project on the paleoecology of the giant Irish deer at the Natural History Museum in Dublin, Ireland. I was always interested in ecology, but I became fascinated by Earth history and ecosystems of the past and wanted to understand what the planet looked like before modern society.

What do you think is the most important thing we can learn from studying the environment?

It’s important for us to not forget that we are a part of the environment, that we play a role within it rather than be at odds against it. I think a lot of people aren’t really in touch with what “environment” actually is—it’s everything from national parks to the weather to the grass growing up through parking lot asphalt to the mice that hide out in your basement when the weather gets cold. The world around us isn’t an inconvenience. It’s our home.

Have you had any scary experiences in the field?

I hope my mother doesn’t read this … I’ve had a few, yes. The scariest by far was the time I almost stepped on a carpet viper, which I didn’t see basking in the sun in a dry wash. The second I heard its scales rub together in warning, my whole body went cold and came flying out of the wash with my hand on my machete so fast I didn’t remember how it happened. I’ve also been in downtown Nairobi in the middle of a crowd when a riot broke out. All I heard were bullets everywhere and I went running with my hands over my head as fast as I could. I’ve also unknowingly mapped sediments in front of an occupied hyena den, complete with broken, fresh bones and all. I’ve ridden in a boat to Central Island while waves nearly double our size threw us up into the air and we landed with a massive SMACK each time, and halfway through the ride a friend noticed a hairline crack growing in the fiberglass on the side of the boat. I’ve walked up on a hippo that was closer to shore than I thought it would be during the middle of the day, and ran back to camp past many, many fresh crocodile nests, with the belly marks from nest to lake clearly just made. All in the name of science.

What project are you working on now?

For the last year and a half, I’ve been focused on documenting the removal of Condit Dam on the White Salmon River in Washington. Condit became the largest dam ever removed in October of this year, previously standing 125 feet tall. The dam removal is a huge victory for endangered species—it completely blocked the migration of the river’s namesake fish for 100 years. With the removal complete this October, salmon have already begun migrating up into the previously inaccessible habitat and spawning naturally.

I’m currently producing a TV special for PBS that tells the story of the dam removal and river recovery. Project updates, photos, and video can be seen on my blog.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve discovered in your work or in the field?

The most surprising thing to witness was just how quickly a river ecosystem recovers after dam removal. Throughout the dam removal process, I constantly asked fish biologists, “how long do you think it will take for salmon to return?” They almost always gave a conservative estimate of three to four years. Yet less than a month after the last piece of concrete was removed, salmon were successfully spawning above the dam site.

Watch: Spectacular Dam “Removal:” More Revealed

Have you ever been lost? How’d you get found?

I’m not sure that I’ve ever been totally lost, but I have had many misadventures! Just a few days ago, I was attempting to descend the White Salmon River through the Condit Dam site with a team of whitewater rafters and kayakers. We made it through the site of the former dam, only to find the river, down in a step canyon, completely blocked by a large log. With daylight waning, our only choice was to tie the rafts off to the shore and climb out of the canyon. Not sure how we’ll get those rafts out of there!

What do you think National Geographic explorers will be exploring in 100 years?

The great thing about our world is that we’ll never run out of places to explore. Though we might set foot on every inch of land and see every part of the oceans, cultures will constantly evolve and landscapes will change.

Have you had any scary experiences in the field?

My scariest experiences have come from two expeditions I’ve done to the Democratic Republic of the Congo in Central Africa. During the first trip, during a shoot for the Nat Geo show Explorer, our team was pinned down by AK47-wielding rebel fighters for a couple of hours. Laying spread-eagle in the sand, facedown, with an AK pointed at you is pretty scary. During my second trip to Congo our military escort killed a poacher that was planning an ambush on our security detail. Fortunately we were not around when that happened, but scary nonetheless.

Where is your favorite place that you’ve traveled?

I love shooting underwater. Probably the most fun experience I’ve had recently was shooting a scene in the Bristol Bay watershed of Alaska for the National Geographic TV show Monster Fish. I got to spend a day with the show’s host and my friend, Zeb Hogan, hanging out in a crystal clear, icy cold stream with thousands of spawning sockeye salmon. My hands were so numb that I couldn’t work the zipper of my dry suit, but I didn’t even notice.

Photograph by Andy Maser

If you had an unlimited amount of funds, what dream film would you make?

Freshwater is a big part of my work and my life, and I’d love to make a film that shows how universally important healthy freshwater ecosystems are to people around the world.  I’m not sure what the story would be, but I’d shoot it in spectacularly beautiful places around the world, in 3D, at high frame rates, with stereo RED Epic cameras.  It would be ridiculously gorgeous, immersive, engaging, and universally understood despite language differences.

How do you choose the subject of your films?

As much as possible, I only work on projects that I really care about. Film work is so time intensive that I’d go crazy if I didn’t enjoy and relate to the subject. With that in mind, most ideas come from experiences I have or people I meet. Occasionally people will come to me with ideas that they want help developing or capturing, but for the most part I choose topics that I think are relevant, interesting, engaging or fun.

What advice would you give to someone who wanted to try kayaking for the first time?

Learn how to Eskimo roll! If you’re afraid of flipping over, you’ll never have the confidence to really progress. Take the time to learn how to roll a kayak properly so you don’t have to worry about flipping.

If you were to meet your eight-year-old self, what would you say?

Follow your dreams! Seriously, I attribute everything I have to the simple fact that I follow my passion. I’ve had a lot of help and luck along the way, but I’d never be here if I hadn’t gone for it…

What project are you working on now?

Since March 2012 I’ve worked as co-manager of the High Mountain Glacial Watershed Program, currently with projects in the Everest region of Nepal and Huascarán National Park of Peru. Our goal is to increase awareness for the importance of high mountain ecosystems and people, which we do by promoting collaboration between scientists, fostering the next generation of ‘climber scientists’ through our small grants program, and implementing community-based projects that help local people and governments reduce the risk of new and potentially dangerous glacial lakes.

Watch a video made by Alton’s son, Daniel, that shows their community consultations and glacial lake research last September in the Everest region.

What originally sparked your interest in geography?

High up the slopes of Dhaulagiri in Nepal at age 21, staring across the Kali Gandaki River Valley below at the Annapurnas to the east, and thinking, Wouldn’t it be cool if one could become a mountain geographer, studying mountains, mountain people, and conservation as a career?

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve discovered in your work or in the field?

The collapse of more than 200 meters of the Imja glacier terminus between May and September 2012, creating hundreds of ship-size icebergs. I’ve been photo monitoring the glacier and Imja glacial lake since 2007, and the average loss has been about 35 meters/year. The loss of 200 meters in just three months sends a disturbing message regarding the possible acceleration of warming trends and their impacts, even in the world’s highest mountains.

Have you ever been lost? How’d you get found?

I was really confused one foggy night in the Flattop Wilderness region of Colorado, spending the night under a tree, having taken a wrong turn on the way to a trout stream. It was strange how once I realized that I was lost, I could swear that I heard voices very clearly saying, “Hey!”—which would get my hopes up for a minute until I realized that I was probably imagining things. The next morning I walked downhill about five miles to a dirt road, found a vacation home where the people fed me pancakes, then walked the ten miles upstream to the place we were staying. I’ve been a fan of maps, compasses, GPS, and natural navigation ever since.

Photograph by Daene McKinney

If you could trade places with one explorer at National Geographic, who would it be and why?

Wade Davis. How many people have had a movie made about them at age 28, including a look-alike actor with wavy hair? His research in ethnobotany, indigenous cultures, natural resources, and now the early British Everest climbers is unparalleled, and he’s got the coolest, custom-built office in D.C. Now having said that, I really wouldn’t want to trade places with anybody, but I do have the highest respect for Wade.

What do you think National Geographic explorers will be exploring in 100 years?

Mysterious, ancient, underwater cities, lost cities with exotic names like New Orleans, New York, Washington, D.C., and Tokyo.

Where is your favorite place that you’ve traveled?

The eastern region of Makalu Barun National Park in Nepal, where I lived in a village in the mid-1990s helping our Nepali colleagues set up the park. There are no roads, it’s a wilderness region, the biodiversity is remarkable, and the people still live largely off the land in sustainable ways—bamboo, for example, has over 80 different documented uses in their day-to-day life.

What is one item you always bring into the field?

A Petzl headlamp, with spare AAA batteries. Whether I’m getting up at 3 a.m. to begin a climb or finding the outhouse, it’s an indispensable piece of equipment.

Have you had any scary experiences in the field?

Not scary, but weird. In 2010 Daniel and I were descending down the remote Hongu valley in Nepal as part of my NGS-Waitt grant. That night, Kamal, the leader of the porters, kept hearing strange, nasal noises outside his tent while JB, the expedition sirdar (leader), slept soundly. There were also sounds of someone moving about and around the tent, sometimes even slapping it with a palm, but every time Kamal stuck his head out to look there was nothing, only silence. This continued throughout the night, and he was thoroughly frightened. The next morning he and JB walked around the area to try and figure out what the noises were, and immediately behind the tent they found a fresh grave, most likely of a porter who had died during a recent expedition. My Western friends raise an eyebrow when I tell this story; my Nepali friends insist that the porter’s ghost was still wandering because the body hadn’t been properly cremated, that it was not an evil spirit at all but only saying, “I’m here, I’m here.”

If you were to meet your eight-year-old self, what would you say?

Keep dreaming.

What project are you working on now?

My latest project looks at lifelong learning in sponge-tool-using dolphins. We are finding that dolphins—like many animals, including humans—continuously improve their performance with experience until they reach a peak in ability midlife, right when they are most likely to be having calves. This is remarkably similar to what in the human literature is usually called developing expertise. After this, dolphins seem to decline in their tool use ability to some extent, which likely has to do with the general process of aging. I am also currently looking at the different types of sponge tools dolphins use, and how or if dolphins are selective when picking their tools.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve discovered in your work or in the field?

The thing about studying dolphins, and marine animals in general, is that they somehow always surprise you because the world they live in is so completely different than yours. I would have to say the most surprising thing I have seen while in the field is a dolphin literally robbing a shag (a type of bird also called a cormorant). We were trying to collect data on a dolphin named Sequel, but she was constantly trying to ride the bow wave our boat creates. We finally decided to give her a ride and as soon as we started driving we noticed a shag up ahead that had just caught a fish. We looked down and Sequel was gone. All of a sudden the shag shot out of the water and dropped its fish. Guess who was there to grab it? Sequel! She did this three times in a row within about ten minutes, going from shag to shag, poking them from underwater to startle them and cause them to drop their fish. It’s a genius way to get a free meal!

Have you ever been lost? How’d you get found?

I most certainly have been lost, both physically and mentally, but luckily my GPS helps with one of these. In undergrad I actually started out as an aerospace engineer and while I was doing fine in all my courses, I just felt unsatisfied. Engineering was certain to be more lucrative than many other careers and I always performed well in math and science, so it made sense, but something was missing. After a long, hard semester of thinking it over and talking with my parents and several professors/professionals in other fields, I finally realized I had to switch. I needed a career involving nature and animals, so biology it was!

If you could trade places with one explorer at National Geographic, who would it be and why?

To be honest I feel extremely lucky that I can say I would not want to trade places with anyone. However, the work of several explorers, including Jane Goodall‘s, Bernd Würsig‘s, and Joyce Poole‘s, has always been inspirational, and if I could accomplish only half of what they have in their incredible lives I would be forever grateful.

Where is your favorite place that you’ve traveled?

I have been very lucky to have traveled much of the world, but one place in particular that stands out is the island of Monuriki, Fiji. This is the island where Castaway was filmed and my brother and I were lucky enough to get to take a sailboat there while we were in Fiji. The island is uninhabited and we had to first go to the nearby village and have a traditional Kava ceremony in order to gain permission to visit the island. Ever since reading the book The Cay as a kid, I have been obsessed with small, uncivilized islands for some reason and this tops them all. The beauty is indescribable and there is just something about being totally isolated on a tiny island that makes you feel so insignificant, which somehow, at the same time, gives you complete peace.

What can humans learn from the animals you study?

Despite our common ancestor being separated by millions of years, bottlenose dolphins and humans share many similar traits. Bottlenose dolphins live in what we call a fission-fusion society, the same type of society that humans and a few other animals live in. Group membership is constantly changing in that who you are hanging out with now will change, but could change back later in the day, month, year, or decade. So bottlenose dolphins don’t actually live in pods as one might think. There are many parallels between dolphin and human cognitive abilities as well; both of us have very large brains for our body size, which likely relates to similar underlying ecological and social contexts both species experienced during their evolutionary histories. As such, we can learn a great deal about the pressures that may have led to modern-day humans by examining the similarities we have with bottlenose dolphins, among other toothed whales. How dolphins maintain social relationships, how they adapt to environments all over the world, how they care for their young, and how they communicate all have implications for human evolution.

If dolphins could speak, what do you think they’d tell us?

Fish! That would be the first thing, but then I think they would tell us we look very weird and we make too much noise.

Photograph by Dominik Noll

Have you ever gotten attached to a certain dolphin?

I get attached to my pets, but not to individual wild animals. As a biologist, you try to separate your emotions from the world you study so you can be objective and scientific. This may seem a little harsh, but in reality we have to step back and look at things as a whole, as a process, as a system not as individuals, in order to truly understand and appreciate all aspects of dolphins’ lives. That is not to say that I am not particularly fond of some dolphins more than others, as I do have a few favorites that are just simply more interesting to watch, but I try not to get emotionally attached.

What do you think National Geographic explorers will be exploring in 100 years?

The way things are going, who knows, but I’ll take a wild guess. In terms of here on Earth, the one place we still know very little about is the ocean and as technologies improve I think future explorers will focus heavily on improving our understanding of marine environments. I also think that we as humans are having an unprecedented impact on our planet and that there will be an immense interest in examining this impact, determining how we can minimize our negative influences, and live in a more sustainable way. Beyond Earth, I think in 100 years we will have greatly improved our knowledge of other planets and hopefully at least one explorer will, in fact, explore another planet!

If you were to meet your eight-year-old self, what would you say?

Think about what you like to do for fun and figure out how to make that your job. Oh, and don’t take life too seriously. After all, it’s just life.

What project are you working on now?

Right now I am working on two things. The first is a book based around a number of walks I have done over the years in the northern rangelands of Kenya, which includes the expedition supported by the NG Young Explorers grant. Sometimes I was following wildlife, sometimes moving with pastoralists as they shifted grazing areas, sometimes alone. The book is a story of time and place, of a changing landscape, its people, and its wildlife.

The other thing I am doing is putting together a walking expedition for 2013 that will follow elephant movement routes for about 600 kilometers through Kenya’s Rift Valley.  Given increases in poaching as well as rapid habitat fragmentation, elephant ranges in many parts of Africa are shrinking as they (and other wildlife) become confined to core protected areas. In Kenya, there are many good conservationists already engaging these issues, but there is still much to be done, and the reason for this walk is to bring attention to the need for connectivity. I will be adding updates to my blog as I move forward with the planning process.

Photograph courtesy Brendan Buzzard

What did you want to be when you were growing up?

I grew up amid the wildlife landscapes of Southern and East Africa and all I have ever wanted to do is be in the bush around wildlife. When I wasn’t in school, I’d be out exploring. As I spent more time around wildlife and saw the threats that they face, I decided that I had to work on their behalf as a conservationist and storyteller.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve discovered in your work or in the field?

I am most fascinated by the question of belonging, how we as individuals and as a species fit into the spaces of the world. We all have origins and labels, things that we carry and that claim us, like our cultures, our languages, our skins, our beliefs, and our ideas.  Because the world isn’t neat, many of us blur these lines even while we are defined by them, and being both social and ecological creatures we occupy and shape various historical and geographical niches. It is in this context that I want to understand belonging, so whether I am out following a herd of elephants on foot in the desert of northern Kenya or sitting at my desk writing an essay and digging into memory, I am trying to understand how to be human in a human world, while also a member of just one species in a more diverse and complex system of life. I have not discovered an answer yet, but I feel like the questioning is just as important, a turning over of ideas, an asking if that is really the way you see things, if that is truly what you believe, and as you ask these things you evolve in a way, you move forward, and this always astonishes me—the ability to exceed ourselves.

Have you ever been lost? How’d you get found?

I was lost once, when I was a little kid. I was in Berlin with my family and something caught my eye—I don’t remember now what it was—and I simply walked off to explore. After a while I realized I was alone in a big city. It was a rainy day. Somehow I managed to get back to the place where I was last with my family, and my mother was there. It was very scary.   

What are you reading right now?

One Day I Will Write About This Place, by Binyavanga Wainaina. It is an incredible memoir. Wainaina’s narrative is a story of time and place, of puzzles and mosaics, of the world processed by one Kenyan man that has found his way toward writing. His story of Kenya and Africa is one account of place, but through his grace with words and his ability to see, his account is one to be trusted and admired.

If you could trade places with one explorer at National Geographic, who would it be and why?

For as long as I can remember, National Geographic explorers have been an inspiration.  When I was growing up and developed a love for wild animals and places, I was fascinated by the work and energy of people like Jane Goodall, Michael Fay, and the Jouberts. Because we all have our own ways of approaching the world, I could not trade places with any of them, but they remain important figures for me that I continue to turn to for inspiration.

What do you think National Geographic explorers will be exploring in 100 years?

Explorers seem intent on ordering space, if not for a scientific reason, then to understand something of themselves. These spaces are ever changing, and as our world becomes more globalized and technological, I can understand how some explorers describe the Earth as becoming a smaller place. But I don’t always feel that way. Great geographical puzzles remain. There is so much we don’t know about the intricacies of ecological systems or the patterns of the deep sea, the inner workings of the human body and the arrangement of the universe beyond our planet, the evolutionary history of our own species and the need to develop a language—a way of speaking—that includes us as ecological members. So, to be honest, in a hundred years exploration will not be that different than it is now. The scale of inquiry will change, as will the tools to do it with, but the desire to answer questions, to see and know, to understand ourselves in spatial and temporal contexts, will remain constant. It is this curiosity that is at the heart of exploration.

If you were to meet your eight-year-old self, what would you say?  

Keep imagining. Follow your dream. And don’t listen to anyone who tells you it is not possible.