Expeditions of The Molar Explorer

From the dentist’s chair to the icy expanse of Antarctica, Molar Explorer Cat Burford has combined her passion for adventure with a career in dentistry. Recently completing a gruelling 53-day solo expedition to the South Pole, she became the 13th woman to achieve this feat unsupported, battling extreme conditions with resilience and determination. Beyond personal achievement, her journey raised funds for Bridge2Aid and Community Action Nepal, supporting vital healthcare in remote communities. In this interview, Cat shares the challenges, triumphs, and lessons from her remarkable expedition.

Absolutely! I’m a dentist based in Cornwall, where I’ve lived for the past 20 years. I combine general dentistry and orthodontics with being a faculty member for World Extreme Medicine, teaching the expedition dentistry module to medical professionals hoping to embark on a career in expedition and wilderness medicine

My love for travel and exploration has been with me since childhood—I was always the kid wandering off to explore, whether that was in the woods, the far corner of a local park, or out on my bike, and that spirit never left me. As a teenager, I was desperate to be old enough to go and experience the places I’d only so far seen in pictures in National Geographic magazines. At 18, I took a gap year to travel and teach English in Borneo. The confidence I gained from that experience helped me to see just what else was out there. I chose the city of Liverpool to study, not only for its nightlife, but also its proximity to the Lake District, North Wales and Peak District national parks. At fresher’s week, I joined the Outdoor club and spent my weekends hiking in the mountains with likeminded people.

Since qualifying, I’ve embraced my love of travel and used my skills to volunteer on various humanitarian projects abroad.

I actually moved around quite a lot as a child. I was born just outside Manchester and lived in five different places before finally settling in Cornwall after university. That experience of constant change definitely shaped my ability to adapt to new environments and gave me the confidence to meet new people.

Cornwall is a unique place and attracts certain types of people who are willing to accept the lower wages and poorer infrastructure in return for an incredible outdoor lifestyle. It was certainly a conscious decision for me. It’s a place where life moves at a different pace, with a focus on nature and adventure. Many of us who live here have chosen it for that very reason. It’s a welcome contrast to the demands of my day job.

The expedition involved skiing 708 miles from the edge of the Antarctic continent to the South Pole—a continent that is known for being the coldest, windiest, highest, and driest place on earth. The journey was all uphill, reaching a total elevation of nearly 3,000 metres. My initial goal was to complete the journey in 50 days, but difficult weather conditions early on forced me to ration food and fuel, extending the expedition to 53 days. On reaching the South Pole, I became the 13 ^th woman to have achieved this solo and unsupported.

The inspiration to explore Antarctica came from an unforgettable geography lesson when I was 14. My teacher, Allyson Taylor, asked our class what the largest desert on Earth was. Naturally, we all thought of sandy landscapes, but then she revealed a breathtaking image of Antarctica, explaining that the vast white landscape was actually the largest desert. That moment captivated me and my interest in Antarctica led me to read about the great polar explorers, Amundsen, Scott, and Shackleton. I was fascinated by their drive to return to such a harsh environment. I knew that there must be some magic and I wanted to experience it. It really was a childhood dream that never left me.

I was fascinated by the psychological aspect and how I would cope with being completely alone. The appeal of going solo was that success or failure would rest entirely on me, there would be no compromise for others. I had to rely on myself to have the skills and be prepared to deal with all eventualities .

Rather than focusing solely on reaching the South Pole, I made a conscious effort to stay present and appreciate my surroundings. A positive mindset was crucial, so I’d find myself batting away any negative thoughts as though I was in a professional tennis match.

I wanted to bring a bit of my personality to the expedition and maintain my sense of humour despite the circumstances. I kept myself entertained, naming certain items of kit, such as my shovel, Steve. I gave him a pair of googly eyes and he became his own character, much like my own version of Wilson from the film Castaway. There were so many days of white out and poor weather, that when the sun shone, I would wait until my shadow was directly in front of me and stop to dance along with whatever track was playing through my earphones, feeling the joy of being able to see and navigate with full visibility.

I celebrated my birthday, Christmas and New Year on the ice, and I used these milestones as mini celebrations. I packed a treat of a margarita cocktail for each occasion and enjoyed these over Antarctic ice with a cliche of mine!

The hardest part of the day was always the mornings, leaving the warmth and safety of my sleeping bag and tent. In those moments, I switched to autopilot, refusing to dwell on anything other than the task at hand.

Because of the unexpected weather conditions, slow progress in the early days put me behind schedule. I had to quickly adapt my routine to cover more distance, waking up early and extending my day. I woke up at 5:00a.m. and spent about an hour and a half melting snow for water, having breakfast, and packing up camp. Before setting off, I checked the day’s weather, especially the wind direction, so I knew the bearing on which I needed to set up my tent that evening. I then took a GPS bearing before switching off the unit to conserve battery and skied in 90-minute blocks, taking quick five-minute breaks to eat and rehydrate. I repeated this until 7:30p.m. when I set up camp again.

Evenings followed a strict routine to maximize rest. At 8:10p.m. I used my satellite phone to check in with basecamp and provide my coordinates. I immediately changed into warm, dry clothes—including my “happy socks,” which never failed to lift my spirits. After melting snow for dinner and refilling my water bottles, I placed one inside my sleeping bag as a hot water bottle. I recorded video diaries for a mental health research project, wrote a brief journal entry, set up my solar panels to charge my devices and ran through a checklist to ensure I was fully prepared for the next day. That would help my mind rest at night.

I anticipated sastrugi—the wave-like ice formations that can range from ankle height to towering above head height, but I hadn’t anticipated just how much of the terrain they would feature in. It was only the very last day where I got to experience the Antarctic terrain that many people think about, free of the maze of sastrugi. I really had to try and keep a sense of humour, but when I had to navigate them in limited or no visibility and they seriously impacted my progress, humour was in short supply!

The real shock, however, came near the start of the expedition, on the day that I had planned to increase my effort and distance and really ‘start’ my push for the South Pole. When I set off in the morning, my skis started sinking into unexpectedly soft,deep snow, nearly up to my knees. My 100 kg sled acted like an anchor, requiring all my effort to make it move. I suddenly realised I could only cover half the planned distance each day and I had no idea when this was going to end. It felt like it went on forever.

With food and fuel running low, I faced a tough decision: request a resupply or push through, hoping that conditions improved and that I would somehow be able to make up the lost distance. The odds were stacked against me, but in that moment, I reminded myself why I was doing this and the purpose of the expedition. I’d worked so hard just to get there and the thought of not succeeding, of boarding that plane home without seeing the South Pole, drove me forward. I had video clips of friends and family speaking words of encouragement and I would watch these on repeat at night, motivating me to just keep going and try my best. I viewed it as Antarctica testing me, seeing if I was worthy to continue the journey. I chose to ration my supplies and keep putting one ski in front of the other, continuing to seek energy from the environment and having faith that my fortune would change.

When I first decided to attempt a solo, unsupported expedition to the South Pole, I didn’t have the practical skills to make it a reality. It took three years of training, fundraising, and preparation to get there.

My journey began with a week-long Polar Skills course with the company, Shackleton, in Finse, Norway—the training ground of legendary polar explorers. There, I connected with like-minded adventurers and mentors who helped guide my next steps. I also worked with a coach experienced in training polar adventurers, gradually increasing the number of days and nights I spent out on the ice, honing essential skills.

One of the most pivotal moments in my training was joining a team to complete a full east-to-west crossing of Greenland, following in the footsteps of Fridtjof Nansen, the first explorer to make that crossing in 1888. This 39-day expedition was a game-changer, boosting my confidence and deepening my understanding of polar travel.

In March 2024, I embarked on my first solo expedition, putting all that training into practice. I refreshed my navigation skills, trained in crevasse recognition and rescue techniques with a guide in Chamonix, and spent countless weekends and evenings dragging tyres along the Cornish coastline—building the strength, endurance, and mental resilience I knew I’d need for Antarctica.

I had visualized reaching the South Pole throughout the expedition, and just the thought of it gave me butterflies. So when I finally arrived, the emotions were overwhelming. The benefit of ski goggles is that nobody can see your tears! I took a moment to silently thank my geography teacher, Mrs. Taylor, who had died just months before I reached out to tell her of my plans and how she had inspired this journey.

One of the songs that became my expedition anthem (and my life in general!) was Push It by Salt-N-Pepa, so naturally, I had a little "pole dance" to celebrate. The wind chill was brutal, dipping into the -40s, so I couldn’t linger too long. A small group of guides and expedition staff welcomed me with champagne, and I got to experience the absolute luxury of a heated tent. The following day, after a night’s rest, I returned to the South Pole to fully take it all in.

Juggling a career with adventure isn’t easy, it takes commitment, but when you’re passionate about something, you make it work. Training after a long workday wasn’t always appealing, especially in the dark, rainy winter months, but this helped to build my resilience and I never regretted a session. Often the long tyre drags and zone 2 runs gave me time to process the day and deal with any stress. Having the Cornish coastline as my gym also made all the difference.

Interestingly, dentistry has provided me with a surprising set of transferable skills for my expeditions. Dentists need to be patient, work with precision and are used to working under pressure – qualities that are just as important when navigating polar conditions. Similar to expeditions, my work days are long, requiring concentration and the ability to quickly problem-solve and adapt when things don’t go as planned—all crucial in Antarctica, where the environment often doesn’t offer you the luxury of time. The logistical elements of planning for an expedition benefitted from my experience as a dentist- the need to be organised, resilient and be a part of a team whilst making independent decisions. The medical knowledge I have gained through my dental training and also by connecting with faculty members of World Extreme Medicine helped in my understanding of the physiology of cold injuries and how to treat them. 

From the very beginning of planning this expedition, I knew I wanted it to have a greater purpose beyond my personal achievement. It was important to use this platform to support charities that meant something to me—ones that reflected both my career in dentistry and my passion for travel and adventure.

Community Action Nepal was an obvious choice. Nepal is a country close to my heart, having spent time there volunteering as a dentist. The charity was founded by mountaineer Doug Scott, the first Briton to climb Everest, whom I had the privilege of meeting back in 2007. His charity funds medical outposts in remote Himalayan communities, and I remember him speaking about the desperate need for dental care in these areas. I made a promise to myself that if I ever had the opportunity to help, I would—and this expedition felt like the perfect moment to fulfil that commitment.

Bridge2Aid was another clear choice. This charity empowers local health professionals in Tanzania by providing vital training and education in oral health, enabling them to treat their own communities where access to dental care is extremely limited. Their sustainable model creates long-term change, and fundraising efforts like mine help ensure these programs continue making a real difference to people who need it most.

Supporting these charities gave my expedition a deeper sense of purpose, knowing that every step I took towards the South Pole was also helping to bring essential healthcare to those who need it.

Right now, I’m taking time to reflect and process this achievement, and to make the most of the platform it has given me. I love speaking and sharing my story at corporate and local events, schools, and workshops. Visibility matters. If seeing me do this helps break down barriers for women in sport and adventure, or helps to inspire some self-belief, then that’s a success in itself.

As for the next challenge? Opportunities are already coming my way. I now know the importance of having a ‘why’ and how much I leaned on that throughout my expedition, so I just need to wait for that spark, that excitement, to know which one is right.

Voice your dream. Put it out there and tell people. That will drive you forwards and help you to take the first step toward a bigger goal. Big goals can seem overwhelming, but breaking them down into smaller, manageable steps and simply focussing on what comes next, makes all the difference. Use social media to connect with like-minded people. That sense of community and inspiration can be invaluable in turning dreams into reality.

We hope you've enjoyed reading about Cat's incredible journey and feel inspired to take part in some adventures of your own! You can follow Cat's adventure journey via her website here. We love seeing what you get up to so don't forget to tag us in your pics using @meanderapparel or #everydayadventures.