In 2010, Steve Cleverdon set off to walk the entire length of New Zealand in just 66 days, chasing a Guinness World Record and a place in the world of adventure.
But what began as an ambitious challenge soon became a journey that would change his perspective on what adventure really means. Two years later, while travelling through the Malaysian rainforest, an accident left Steve with a fractured C1 vertebra and a long road to recovery.
Yet a broken neck wasn't going to keep him away from the outdoors for long. From tackling one of Europe's toughest hikes just nine months after his accident to discovering a love for paddleboarding, wild swimming and exploring closer to home, Steve's adventures have evolved alongside his life as a partner and dad. This summer, he took on the Great Glen Canoe Trail across Scotland, proving that adventure doesn't have to mean travelling to the other side of the world.
For this Seashell Spirit feature, we caught up with Steve to hear about his record-chasing walk across New Zealand, surviving a serious accident deep in the jungle, and how his definition of adventure has changed over the years - with plenty more challenges still on the horizon.
What inspired you to walk the entire length of New Zealand, and how did the idea of attempting a Guinness World Record first come about?
A lot of it came from people like Alastair Humphreys, Mark Beaumont cycling round the world, and even Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman after I watched Long Way Round. They made big adventures feel like something ordinary people could actually go and do. I'd always wanted to be an adventurer, and they gave me the inspiration and the confidence to give it a go. So I booked a one-way flight to New Zealand on a working holiday visa and started planning.
I chose New Zealand for a few reasons. I have family ties there, as my dad grew up there. It's wild and beautiful. And most importantly, there's nothing too dangerous, nothing waiting to kill you like there is in Australia. The record idea came from reading about Beaumont's record-breaking cycle round the world. A world record seemed like a great way to push myself and make a name for myself in the adventure world. It was big, it was ambitious, and it ticked all the right boxes.
So, did I get the record? As far as I know, I did walk it in the fastest time. But by the time I reached the end, the record no longer seemed to matter, and I never sent my data off to make it official. I'm so glad I did the walk, but my attitude to adventure had changed completely by the finish line. If anything, the journey taught me that adventure should be shared, and not rushed.
You completed the walk in just 66 days. What were the toughest moments along the way, and was there ever a point when you genuinely thought you might not finish?
The first few days were the hardest physically. In November 2010, I started at the northern tip of the North Island and walked down Ninety Mile Beach, and within the first couple of days I got salt water in my boots. By the end of the day, my feet were rubbed raw and blistered, and the next morning I could barely walk. I headed off route towards the nearest road to look for help, and a local Māori man pulled over to help and even gave me a bed for a couple of days while I recovered.
That set the tone for the whole trip. The hospitality in New Zealand is incredible. People would often pull over to offer me fresh fruit or money for a coffee, or to offer me a ride, which I obviously turned down. Everyone just wanted to help, and that made a tough journey much more bearable.
After those early aches and pains, I learned to walk through the physical side. The mental side turned out to be much harder. I had company on a few occasions, but I was solo for most of it, and that was an odd experience. Setting out to do it in record time also put a lot of pressure on me. By the time I reached the South Island, I was walking 50km-plus (31 miles) every day, and I finished the South Island in 19 days without a day off. There were definitely days I wanted to stop early, but I'm too stubborn to have ever seriously considered not finishing.
After New Zealand, you planned to travel overland from Singapore back to London, but your journey took a dramatic turn in the Malaysian rainforest. How did the accident happen, and what do you remember most vividly about getting yourself to medical help in such a remote location?
After a couple more years living in New Zealand, I set off on my next big adventure at the start of November 2012, and a few weeks in I was passing through Malaysia. I'd met an American guy called Jameson, and we decided to travel together for a few days into Taman Negara, the Malaysian rainforest, to visit some remote villages deep in the jungle.
We took a day trip upriver by dugout canoe to a small tribal village. After lunch, we had time to kill before the boat back, so we spent the afternoon swimming, running down the sandy banks and diving into the river. We'd been doing it all afternoon, but it only took one wrong step. I dived slightly too early, hit the sandy riverbank with my head, and my head whipped back. I didn't know it at the time, but I'd cracked my C1 vertebra.
My head felt ten times its normal size and too heavy to hold up. I was in an incredible amount of pain and couldn't turn my head. The next few hours were some of the most challenging of my life. The only way back to the larger village was by dugout canoe, about half an hour downriver through sections of light rapids. The tour guides wanted nothing to do with me because they didn't want the responsibility. Luckily, a German couple who'd joined us went ahead when we got back to help find a clinic.
I had to walk to the clinic, where I was prodded and poked while the doctor tried to work out what was wrong. Then came a long ambulance journey through the jungle to a larger hospital, where I spent the night. That's where they discovered the cracked C1, and they sent me on to Kuala Lumpur for the rest of my care. I spent the next week in Kuala Lumpur until they could fit a halo vest to support my head. It took me almost three days just to reach my family and tell them what had happened. Once they knew, my dad jumped straight on a plane, and with help from the British Embassy, he got me home.
You faced five months of recovery after breaking your neck. Did that period change your relationship with the outdoors?
Not really. The five months after the accident were pretty uncomfortable, which isn't surprising with four bolts screwed into my skull, and getting back outdoors felt a long way off. In the early months, it still wasn't clear whether I'd need surgery, which brought its own risks, including paralysis. It was a pretty scary time, so I didn't plan too far ahead.
But once the halo was off and I knew I'd recover, I started planning almost instantly to walk the GR20 in Corsica, often called Europe's toughest hike. Within nine months of the accident, I was back out there, celebrating my 25th birthday on top of a mountain in the middle of the Mediterranean with my good friend Paul. I'd met him in New Zealand, and funnily enough, we were born on exactly the same day.
It felt incredible to take on a challenge like that so soon after the accident, and even better to share it with a friend. It confirmed something I'd always believed: if you want something badly enough, you'll find a way to do it. If anything, the accident made me more determined to prove to myself that I wasn't going to let something like a broken neck stop me from taking on big adventures.
Having experienced both the freedom of an extraordinary adventure and how quickly things can change, what does adventure mean to you now? Are there still big challenges you want to take on, or has your idea of adventure evolved over time?
Adventure has evolved a lot since I broke my neck. That's not from any lack of desire to take on big adventures. It's more because of the stage of life I'm in right now.
Soon after returning to the UK, I met my partner, Becci. Before long, we had our first child, and our second followed a few years later. Month-long expeditions stopped being realistic, so I turned to smaller adventures across the UK whenever I could find the time, hiking long-distance trails like the West Highland Way, and the South Downs Way right on my doorstep.
A few years ago, when I started my outdoor blog, I got into paddleboarding more or less by chance and fell in love with being on the water. That's grown year on year as my boys have got bigger and started joining me for day paddles. Through the people I've met in the paddling community, I've also found a love for wild swimming and cold morning dips off the south coast, followed by a hot coffee wrapped up in my Seashell changing robe.
This summer 2026, I took on a bigger challenge, paddling coast to coast across Scotland by canoe on the Great Glen Canoe Trail. Over the next few years, my focus will be on longer, more challenging paddleboarding routes around the UK and Europe.
I don't think the want for adventure will ever leave me. Once the boys are older, I'll definitely want to take on bigger adventures again. In particular, I'd love to finish the journey I started when I broke my neck, travelling overland from Singapore back to London.
Thank you for sharing your Seashell Spirit with us, Steve! For gear reviews and UK adventure guides, check out Steve's website here.
