Sahara Rocks - Day 3

 I woke up feeling a hell of a lot better than I had the night before....

I woke up before the sun had risen and lay in my tent staring up at the stars for a bit until the sounds of the camp stirring, or more specifically a cackle of laughter from Kirsty, drove me out of my sleeping bag and out into the approaching daylight.


The night had been warmer than expected, my previous experience of sleeping out in a desert being the Gobi in Mongolia where I almost froze to death. I had even been warm at one point in the night and I silently thanked my sleeping bag, an Alpkit ??? Pipedream.???. Not a cheap bag, but one that was rated down to - 10C.

Also because I had passed out quickly and had had a measure of dehydration the night before, missing dinner, I had not yet had to visit the toilet tents... 4 white contraptions set off to the side of the camp, protecting our modesty (or so I assumed... more of that later). Horror stories were already beginning to emerge and I resolved to find a sand dune rather than go into a tent if it became a necessity. Fingers crossed for a bad case of constipation! 

I felt pretty good however and having packed up my bag and returned my sleeping mat and bag to the pile of kit to be put onto our recently arrived camels.

The camels had arrived yesterday but it was today that I got an up close look. They looked in reasonable condition, with halters round their bottom jaw and front legs either tied together or one tied up so that the camel hopped around on 3 legs instead of 4. This is a normal practice with horses and apparently camels too, called hobbling, it stops the animal wandering too far away in the night without completely restraining them.

Most of the camels sat on the sand, chewing impassively as I stared at them. One turned towards me, gazing at me with big brown eyes, seemingly posing for a photo... so I obliged... wanting to reach out  and pat him but being slightly wary of their reputation of kicking and biting and spitting. In the end I asked one of the camel herders who showed me where to pat, and I reached out and felt his coarse brown hair on his long neck.

The camels were expertly loaded by their herders and watching the kit pile up, I had both an appreciation of their strength and a guilt for not carrying my own pack. For sure, if they had made us carry our packs we would have packed a lot less. Kirsty may not even have packed her straighteners!!! Most of them didn't seem to mind the load though one of them had a bit of a temper tantrum and the herder made him lie down on the sand until he had calmed down. 

We set off after breakfast and a much needed cup of coffee. for what was billed as a 10 to 12 kilometer hike to our next camp. Leading the way was Jamal, a tall imposing Berber, who was the lead local guide. A man with a sense of humour (fairly important) , a sense of direction (most important) but an extremely poor sense of time and distance as we were to discover. Jamal operated on Moroccan time and distance, which bore little relation to our versions. If we asked how much longer, the standard reply... 20 minutes... 20 minutes! I gave up wondering in the end and elected to just put one foot in front of the other until I no longer had to.

This was put to the test on our first full day of walking... right off the bat we were heading up a tall dune, one which dwarfed all the ones we had crossed in our warm up hike yesterday. It was a bit of a post breakfast shock for sure... not long woken and then straight up!

Climbing up sand dunes required an element of stubborness.... you started off at the bottom, striding up firm hard packed sand... feeling good with every stride, poles following your feet and providing a way to transfer some. of your arm power into forward and upward propulsion...

... at some point on the dune, for some it might come halfway, for other dunes it was just the point near the top, your feet would suddenly sink and the sand started sliding taking your foot with it... Up comes the next foot and more sand sliding... power with your arms, leaning on the poles for a bit of traction on the shifting sands... a exhalation of effort as your arms and poles propel your legs up and over the cornice of sand to stand on top of that dune, faced then with a sea of dunes stretching as far as the eye can see.

Then down, with the knowledge that the next up wasn't far away. Heels digging in to the sand and going with the slide, long strides, easy, hoping that the shoe covers do their job to keep the sand out of your shoes..... and repeat! 

And repeat it we did... the sun was blazing. I was very careful to ensure that I drank enough and popped a few dextrose tabs every now and again to keep up the energy levels. Electrolytes in the water bottles were essential and trying not to overheat. For a lot of the day I walked without a hat scarred by my experience a couple of days ago. 

It was clear that the 10 to 12 km estimate had been an optimistic one but as lunchtime arrived we realised that it was going to be considerably longer. All of us had had moments of struggling with the combination of the relentless sun, the up/down nature of the dunes and the physical effort of wading through sand but we persevered. It was with relief that we came upon our lunch stop, sheltered by a lone tree, picnic tables and fold up chairs, an oasis from our efforts for an hour or so. 

Once again, the camp staff and cooks had done themselves proud with the food they managed to prepare for us in the middle of a desert and it was a much needed break. I actually felt pretty good at this point. Aside from a bit of a blister on my little toe (Assumed not confirmed-more about that later) my legs felt good, I was enjoying being out in such a spectacular place with so much space to just breathe.

We packed up and set off, heading towards the sun, which had seemed only to intensify in the hour for lunch... or perhaps the slight shade had made us forget how hot it actually was. As Jamal kept pointing out whenever he heard a moan or groan about the distance or the heat, it was Global Adventure CHALLENGE, not holiday 😁😂

For me, it didn't actually matter how much further it was, I still had to put one foot in front of the other and I would keep doing that until Jamal told me I didn't have to. In my training and all my adventures and challenges, I have become accustomed to having to drag my body further than it wants or further than I had initially told it and it has prepared me well. Mental game is a big part of it, sure you need some element of physical conditioning but if you have no mental game, you might as well not bother packing your bags in the first place.

The second half of the trek post lunch was slightly flatter but the heat took its toll with one or two people not feeling so great. The line of trekkers stretched out and at times the trekkers went a little quieter as they turned inward to draw on personal reserves of determination and strength.

The shadows lengthened as both Moroccan time and actual time went on, stretching out across the dunes as we followed in Jamal's footsteps. Throughout this trip the trekkers all looked after each other, with one trekker even giving up some of his precious water to another who had run out. It certainly focused thoughts to resources and how precious they are.... full respect to the people who live out here in the dry, waterless places.

Eventually 16 miles (25km) later we stumbled into our camp, tents set up in rows and tea and coffee almost ready. Gratefully we retrieved our packs (thank you camels) and dumped them in our tents. I was determined to sleep outside tonight and managed to persuade a few others that it was an ideal opportunity to do this, especially if they had never done it before.

The sun gradually set, with spectacular colours lighting up the sky, eventually giving way to a myriad of stars. The milky way was the clearest I have seen it for years, stretching across the sky and as we all sat around in a circle, sharing stories from the day and our reasons for trekking, a shooting star streaked across... perfect timing!

The newly formed band S'ahar, consisting of Smiley, Chris Summerill and Matt Peach entertained with an unbelievable array of songs stretching across decades. A shout out for this talented bunch who suffered every stretch of the way with us yet found the energy to play for us at lunch stops and in the evenings with energy, enthusiasm and laughter. They made the trek what it was and it was a much richer experience with them and their music.

I hauled my mat out onto a lower slope of the dune, joined by kirsty, smiley and chris for a bit. We stared at the stars, talked shite, until the talking died down, chris got cold and went to his tent and I was the only one awake. We had been talking abojt how the stars were projecting light from millions of years ago so we were literally looking into the past, seeing stars that may well have ceased to exist but whose light still projected to this point for us to see. It made the head hurt a little, trying to wrap the brain around our place in the universe and how small we are compared to the bigger picture.

I hunkered down in my sleeping bag, a cold breeze playing across my face as I fell asleep under the stars.

















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