No one would describe Todd Carmichael as a calm man. A successful man, sure. His coffee company, La Colombe Torrefaction, does $25 million in business a year. Along with their chain of cafés, Carmichael and his partner, J. P. Iberti, provide coffee for some of the best restaurants in the country: Le Bernardin in New York, Next in Chicago, L'Hermitage in L. A. Carmichael's a proud coffee nerd — the kind of guy who points out when a particular blend gives him goosebumps. Put him in front of a camera and he sounds like the Jeff Corwin of coffee: This is what we're looking for. This is perfect. Perfect! Sustainably grown — look up here. Look up here! Do you see this fruit!? Do you see how laden that is!?

As La Colombe's main sourcer, he's charged with finding the best coffee in the world, wherever it grows. That means regular trips to Rwanda, to Colombia, to Ethiopia — places a six-three forty-eight-year-old bald white man tends to draw unwanted attention. But Carmichael seems to crave danger and the threat of physical harm the way most people crave their morning joe. He ran his first ultramarathon at twenty. Soon after, he sailed across the Atlantic — alone. Since 2008 he's held the world record for the fastest unsupported trek to the South Pole (thirty-nine days, seven hours, and forty-nine minutes: a figure he's tattooed in a visible spot just below the sleeve of his T-shirt). And after a failed attempt last year to become the first person to cross 156-mile-long Death Valley unaided, he's training to try it again. This time, though, he thinks he's solved a major problem. The wheels of his updated rickshaw — which he affectionately calls "the pig" and uses to carry nearly five hundred pounds of food, water, and gear — will have Kevlar-embedded rubber tires, the same ones they use on bush planes, and pivoting axles to avoid bottoming out on the uneven desert floor.

Carmichael compares his motivation to a dog finally catching a squirrel. Once you ac...