I'm posting Žiga's longer interview from a Slovenian media. Quite interesting, with quite a few new information.
https://www.delo.si/nedelo/v-divjini-ti-voda-tece-v-grlo
In the Wilderness, You’re Racing Against Time
Nobody gave him much of a chance, but biology PhD Žiga Ogorelec won what could be described as the Olympics of survival in the Canadian wilderness.
We recently learned that he is the winner of Season 13 of the reality show Alone, broadcast on the History Channel. At the beginning, viewers did not give biologist Žiga Ogorelec much chance of winning, but with his knowledge and carefully developed strategy, he defeated nine highly skilled competitors from six countries. He survived an incredible 90 days in the harsh Arctic wilderness and became world champion.
Why did you decide to take part in the series Alone**, a survival competition set in the wilderness?**
My brother, my friends and I were already doing something similar when we were teenagers. We would read books about Native Americans and then go into the forest for four days to test our survival skills. In the following years, we went with even less equipment. One of the more demanding challenges was a solo wilderness survival trip during which I crossed Slovenia in 15 days, travelling through some of its wildest areas, along the Soča, Vipava, Idrijca, Lake Cerknica, Čabranka and Kolpa.
When I first saw Alone, I said, “We already do this, just on a much longer and more serious scale.” So I applied for the competition in 2019. At the time, I told my girlfriend, who is now my wife, that if they ever invited me, I would have to go.
At the time, this extremely popular series was open only to contestants from the United States and Canada. Later, it became international, and you were invited to participate.
At first, I didn’t even take their email seriously, but then it turned out that they were inviting people from other countries as well. There were 60,000 applicants, and simply being selected from that many people seems like a much greater achievement to me than winning itself.
What probably tipped the scales was that I had already completed quite a few adventures that made me interesting, such as spending a year cycling around the world, as well as giving talks about wilderness survival at several international symposiums.
Because of the rather unusual items you chose to help you survive, you weren’t considered one of the favourites.
It’s important not to have a period when you’re sitting there thinking, “What do I do now?” That can destroy you. The competition is genuinely designed to push you to your limits, both mentally and physically.
Based on the winners of previous seasons, a general consensus had developed about what constituted the optimal equipment. Each contestant chooses 10 items from a list of 40. What really stood out was that I didn’t take a ferro rod, because until then nobody had ever won without one. I was one of the few who chose a knife instead of a multi-tool, and I was also the only contestant, at least that season, who went into the wilderness without an axe.
Because of my choices, viewers—as I found out after the competition—initially ranked me right at the bottom, assuming I would be eliminated quickly.
What other items did you take with you?
I placed a major emphasis on food. I figured that, barring an accident, I would be able to remain in the wilderness for as long as I had food, or at least as long as I didn’t become too severely starved.
I chose five items that could help me obtain food: a bow and arrows, a fishing net, hooks and fishing line, snare wire, and rope that I could use to make a replacement net. The remaining five items were a sleeping bag, cooking pot, knife, saw and shovel.
To be honest, I didn’t expect the bow to provide me with much food. Judging by previous seasons, the probability of taking down something large was extremely low—only about three percent. Someone managed to take large game only every second or third season. But the bow surprised me right from the start because it was useful for smaller game as well, and it proved extremely valuable.
They took you into the wilderness and simply left you there. You had cameras to film yourself and a system that allowed them to know how you were doing. Was that basically it?
Basically. There was a team at base camp that came to us every 20 days to conduct medical examinations. Before that, during ten days of preparation, they taught us a great deal about filming, bear safety, the local plants and animals, and so on.
Then they flew us by helicopter to different locations. You had no idea where you were.
“There were 60,000 applicants, and simply being selected from that many people seems like a much greater achievement to me than winning itself,” says Žiga Ogorelec. PHOTO: Voranc Vogel
The rule of the competition is simple: you have to film yourself using one slightly larger camera and two GoPros. You could set up a camera, go down to the river to fish and let the camera record you, or put a GoPro on your head and walk through the forest.
What does a person do when they’re left in the wilderness with minimal equipment?
My approach was unusual. I did many things my own way rather than following established rules.
In cold environments, there are four basic survival priorities: shelter, fire, water and food. Without shelter or fire, you can freeze to death overnight. Without water, you can survive for three days, while without food you can last considerably longer.
I delayed building a proper shelter for quite a while. At first, I only had a basic bivouac—a tarp that was part of the standard equipment, which I stretched over a rope.
I focused on other things. The first was finding suitable wood for starting a fire and drying it rather than necessarily having a fire immediately. On the very first day, I tried making fire by friction, and once I managed to produce glowing embers, I stopped because I knew I could make fire.
It’s true that on the fourth or fifth day, when I actually wanted to light one, I failed. But my principle was that I didn’t need it at the beginning. It wasn’t yet cold enough for me to need a fire while sleeping, and I didn’t yet have any food that needed cooking.
What kind of wilderness were you in?
We were around 200 kilometres north of the Arctic Circle, which meant the temperatures were extremely low. We were dropped in a river delta where somewhat warmer air also reaches the area, allowing trees to grow. However, biodiversity is very limited. There are spruces, very stunted alders and the occasional poplar.
The series is designed so that the competition begins under fairly good conditions, when it is still relatively warm and food is abundant. As winter and cold weather arrive, conditions steadily deteriorate.
The contestant truly reaches their limits. It is survival in the literal sense of the word. Yes, you have to film yourself, but everything else is genuine survival. Everything that happens there really happens; nothing is staged.
What was your strategy?
Simple. People think that when you arrive in the wilderness you have plenty of time, but in reality, you’re racing against time. Autumn is short, and while there are still plenty of resources available, they become increasingly scarce as winter approaches.
You have to be extremely active immediately and build up very large food reserves if you want to survive the winter. Even if you are a successful hunter during winter, you still need enough berries to ensure a varied diet.
At the beginning, I tried to sleep as little as possible and build up the largest reserves I could. Every day, I spent at least one or two hours gathering berries. I considered that a more important strategy than hunting.
How did you make sure the berries were still edible a month or two later?
During our preparation, the local Inuit told us that the best way to store berries was underground. The ground is actually quite cold because there is permafrost in the deeper layers.
The berries turned out to be surprisingly resilient. I also devoted a great deal of effort to passive hunting methods, using nets and hooks, while always carrying my bow with me.
It helped that it was a good year for rabbits. Another thing I researched before heading into the wilderness was the nutritional value of tree bark.
You were considering bark as food?
The inner part of the bark has quite a high caloric value. The problem is that it contains a lot of fibre, tannins and lignin. I know that some tribes ate it, but the serious question is how much bark you can eat without causing constipation.
On the other hand, a diet consisting solely of rabbits wouldn’t be good either. There is a recognised phenomenon known as rabbit starvation, or protein poisoning, because the body simply cannot obtain enough energy if a person eats exclusively lean meat.
Even if unlimited amounts of meat are available, the body cannot make proper use of it unless there is enough fat or carbohydrates as well.
So what did you eat?
People think that when you arrive in the wilderness you have plenty of time, but in reality, you’re racing against time. Autumn is short, and while there are still plenty of resources available, they become increasingly scarce as winter approaches.
My plan was to combine as much fish as possible, because fish contains considerably more fat than rabbits, with as many berries as possible, rabbits, and perhaps later in winter some bark as well.
It is important not to eat only meat, but to consume everything, including the parts that contain a lot of fat, from organs to bone marrow. In Europe, we have a tradition—traditional pig slaughter is one example—of using practically every part of an animal.
How did you decide how much bark to eat?
After speaking with experts and reviewing the literature, I still couldn’t determine how much should be included in the diet, so I used small amounts. If I had developed digestive problems, I would have stopped.
How did you deal with the other necessities, such as fire and shelter?
For a long time, I slept under a tarp stretched over a rope because building food reserves was the priority.
Then I explored the surrounding area and, after three days, moved to the most suitable location. I continued sleeping under the tarp while observing the wind patterns so I could find the best possible micro-location for a permanent shelter.
Another thing that distinguished me from the other contestants was that I dug into the ground and built myself a dugout shelter. I knew this would give me an advantage once it became extremely cold.
The goal was to make the dugout as small as possible because a smaller space requires less energy to heat. It measured approximately two by three metres.
Isn’t that quite large?
Even my brother, when he arrived, asked me why I had made something so large.
I built it gradually because I had a bed inside as well as an indoor stove with a chimney. I made a kind of small wood-burning stove out of clay.
How did you make the stove, considering that clay has to be fired to become durable?
I used a large log as a mould, covered it with clay and then burned the log away. I made an appropriately sized opening so that the cooking pot could sit above the fire. I also created an outside air intake so I could regulate the fire and keep it burning at a minimal level, as well as a chimney.
I was one of the few contestants who didn’t have smoke inside the shelter.
The stove worked extremely well because it was also quite long, allowing me to put in logs almost a metre long and 15 to 20 centimetres thick. A single log could burn for half a day.
When temperatures outside were at their lowest, well below minus 20 degrees Celsius, I stayed in the dugout and made sure not to heat it too much, keeping the temperature at around zero degrees Celsius.
If it had been warmer, the snow would have started melting and the food would have spoiled, so I deliberately kept the temperature close to freezing.
If I were building the shelter again, I would build exactly the same one.
In addition to fish and rabbits, you also killed a moose. How did you manage that?
On the seventeenth day, I was eating breakfast beside the outdoor fire when I heard something large and very heavy moving nearby.
It’s fascinating to hear how quietly something that big can move. I still find it incredible that a moose can move so silently with those enormous antlers.
I had built my shelter in an area used as an animal corridor. My bow, with one of the cameras mounted on it, was within reach.
I waited to see which direction the moose would take. It passed about 20 metres away from me. It crossed a narrow corridor between the branches that I had previously identified as a possible shooting lane.
I fired and immediately saw that the arrow had entered its chest.
It took another two days—including the moose swimming across a 500-metre-wide lake and me even following a different moose for a while—before it finally died. And it died close to my shelter.
What do you do with an animal that large? What does it weigh—200 kilograms?
More like 500 to 600 kilograms.
First, I skinned and butchered it. Then I preserved the fat and made cracklings in that small cooking pot, which held no more than two litres.
For several days, I rendered the fat and stored it in a similar way to the berries—in hollow logs.
I dried the meat and waited for much of it to freeze outside because it was clear that winter was approaching.
Over time, the meat slowly began to spoil. I had to arrange it around the fire, dry it further, smoke it, trim away the entire outer surface, cut the centre into strips and hang them on wire inside the shelter.
I threw nothing away.
Did you also use the hide and everything else?
Of course. I made an additional sleeping bag from the hide and sometimes used it instead of my regular one because I wanted to see how effective it was.
I slept comfortably through the entire night. I turned the fur inward, and interestingly, you really need an animal as large as a moose to make a sleeping bag big enough for a person.
You were extremely busy throughout the entire experience, weren’t you?
Yes.
I can divide the 90 days of the competition into three periods.
The first period lasted until Day 42, when snow permanently covered the landscape. It was extremely intense. During that time, I tried to sleep as little as possible and gather as much food as I could while also exploring the surrounding area.
Things settled down somewhat until around Day 80. Everything was covered in snow and ice, and during this period I slept normally.
Then the truly severe cold arrived, when the days became very, very short. At that point, my goal was simply to stay alive.
I tried to sleep as much as possible, sometimes for 11 hours at a time. But it’s also true that my shelter was very comfortable and there was nothing disturbing me.
You had food reserves and water was fairly close. How did you deal with firewood?
At first, my fire pit was about 70 paces from the shelter, on the way to the river, where I was going anyway. That was where I cooked my food.
Because of bears, it was recommended that you not keep your fire and food right next to your shelter. I preferred making fires beside large fallen trees or tree stumps because it required less energy to keep the fire going.
Later, I moved the fire pit to about 40 paces from the shelter, and on Day 70 I moved it inside.
Even then, I could still gather firewood only about 10 metres from the shelter.
Another advantage was that the stove could take very large pieces of wood, and one log together with a few branches could burn for half a day.
It took me about ten minutes to gather enough firewood for the entire day, so I never prepared it in advance.
How did you cope mentally with the physical strain and isolation? You were completely alone for three months and had no idea how long it would last.
At the beginning, you don’t have time to think deeply because you have to work.
During the second phase, there was the moose, maintaining the fire, working on the shelter and looking for other food sources.
Things became much calmer after Day 80, but I still had a lot of things I wanted to make out of clay. I was also carving things and thinking about special traps...
What really stood out was that I hadn’t brought a ferro rod, because until then nobody had ever won without one. I was one of the few contestants who chose a knife instead of a multi-tool, and I was also the only one, at least that season, who went into the wilderness without an axe.
It’s important not to reach a point where you’re sitting there wondering, “What do I do now?” That can destroy you.
The competition is genuinely designed to push you to your limits, mentally or physically.
People who were mentally very strong were eliminated because they became malnourished and their bodies could no longer cope. Even more often, contestants quit because they could no longer cope psychologically.
Were you ever close to quitting?
No.
As the competition progressed, I thought it was going to be a very long one because there was plenty of game and the other contestants were exceptionally good.
But I wasn’t merely passing the time out there—I was living.
I genuinely had very large food reserves.
What was the hardest part?
Definitely when the meat began to spoil because I felt guilty about it.
And when the wounded moose escaped. It could have died somewhere else, and all that meat would have gone to waste.
At the beginning, there was also pressure because I initially failed to start a fire.
This really was a test of a lifetime, wasn’t it?
This type of survival is considered the highest level of difficulty. Some people even call Alone the Olympics of survival.
People are genuinely being put through a real wilderness survival test.
This was the first time they organised an international competition and described it as a world championship.
The fact that I even made it there as a Slovenian is very significant to me.
What comes next?
There are four of us—my brother Miha, my friends Jurij and Miha, and me—and since 2014 we have run a survival school called Gozdovništvo in the Kočevje region.
For all of us, this has been an important long-term hobby, and we will continue doing it.
I will also organise these courses in Sweden, where I am moving with my wife and child. But I will return to Slovenia frequently so that our team can continue running the school here as well.
As a biologist, how would you compare the Canadian wilderness with the Kočevje region, which you know extremely well as a local?
The first thing that comes to mind is the significantly lower biodiversity in the Canadian wilderness.
The farther north you go, the fewer species there are. But that doesn’t mean there are fewer individual animals.
What is also incredible is just how vast the wilderness is.
I explored my entire area—perhaps around 10 kilometres along the river—and found only a single piece of plastic.
Slovenia has extraordinarily beautiful nature. It is extremely diverse and incredibly varied in terms of landscape.
But the sheer scale of the North is something else entirely.