21st March 2006
CRY Publications Co-ordinator Mark Fox has completed his epic fundraising trek in the Sahara Desert. Mark first thought about doing this challenge back in August 2005, to raise money for CRY in memory of his sister Laura. Below is Mark’s diary of his days in the desert.
The Sahara Desert stretches from the Atlas Mountains of Morocco in the West, to the Red Sea coast 4800km away in the East. With proud Berbers as our guides and a small caravan of camels to carry our supplies, we trekked 100km through this varied and stunning landscape.
Day 1
15 trekkers depart from Heathrow, aiming for the hot, dusty country of Morocco. Each person has their own reason for doing this trek, but we are now all in it together. The next few days will see us bond together and become a team of trekkers.
We make it to Ouarzazate in the early hours of the morning, via a short stop over at Casablanca airport. We get to sleep for one last time in a comfy bed and enjoy our last shower.
Day 2
An early breakfast in the hotel and the excitement/tension of the group is easy to see. We get a detailed briefing by our Discover Adventure guide before we leave for a 5-hour drive to M’Hamid, our starting point. Along the way, it quickly hits us the extremity of this trek. The heat is almost unbearable already and the landscape vast and rocky. The drive takes us over the Jebel Sarho Mountains and into the valley of a thousand Kasbahs. Behind us, we see for the last time the Atlas Mountain range with its snowy peaks.
I have already drunk thousands of litres of water when we make a brief stop over at Zagora where we all bought a shash. A sign indicates that Timbuktu is only 52 days camel ride away. I decline this offer and carry on with the group. My lips also taste my last cold drink for the next week. The bus is quiet, people are nervous, anticipation is intense. We make it to our starting point. After a small lunch of salad, bread and sand we head off across a flat plain. We are followed by our 5 camels and trusty cameleers, and lead by our Berber guide Hussain.
The wind was strong, the sand stung our faces, heads down and off we went. It was early afternoon and the wind was out to test us, the desert had to make sure we were worthy to cross it. We reach Erg Lihoudi, our first taste of sand dunes. The sand is incredibly fine; our feet sink in what feels like down to our knees. The floor gives way and every step feels like ten!!
We camp at the edge of the dunes for the night, our test was over, the desert has accepted us. Or so we thought.
The nights were quiet, very quiet. The wind eased off until the only noise was a few groans from the camels and the snoring of other trekkers. A few of us slept out under the moonlight on the first night, the moon was full and amazingly bright. The stars could not be seen because of the intensity of this light. The temperature dropped, fleece, hat, gloves, socks, still cold, don’t care.
Day 3
We wake in the morning at about 6am. The sun has not yet risen but the sky is red, the desert waits for the sun and when it finally appears over the dunes, the temperature immediately begins to rise. Our destination is the horizon, as there is nothing else to aim at, our minds are determined. What can the desert throw at us today?
Pancakes and porridge for breakfast, I then remember I don’t like porridge; wish I never took that spoonful!! The tents are collapsed, the camels are loaded and off we go. Still no wind as the dunes increase as much as the heat, water disappears quickly from our camel backs but gets refilled just as fast. The small dunes seem never ending, and after weaving in and out of them for 4 hours, we stop under some Tamarisk trees for lunch. These trees pop up everywhere and I find it incredible how they can survive in this environment, but with two thirds of its roots underground, they can!
To the north and very faint on the horizon are the Jebel Bani Mountains. They are distant at the moment, but will soon creep up on us. To the south are miles of dunes, constantly changing in the wind that has now picked up in the early afternoon. Faces get covered up, sunglasses are never removed and everything is done to keep out the annoying grains of sand that seem to get everywhere. The day finishes after walking across another rocky plateau with camp being situated close to a well.
So far, the desert has not been what any of us were expecting. The dunes seem sparse compared to the large, flat, incredibly rocky parts of the desert floor. I realise that it’s easy to miss out on a lot of what is happening around you, and how much the desert changes. You need to look about three foot in front of you at all times to judge which way the rocks will turn when you step on them, or if there are any gaping holes ready for you to sink into. You look down for 5 minutes and you find yourself amongst trees when 5 minutes earlier all you could see was sand dunes.
Day 4
This day started on a low note for me. The night before I had been walking around bare foot to let my feet breath, and I managed to cut one of my toes. Not badly, but bad enough for me to walk differently in my boots. I could feel throughout the morning my boots rubbing on my heel. By the afternoon I felt as though I had about 5 blisters all on top of each other. I limp along, dreading getting to camp and taking my boots off. The landscape again is uneven; twisting my feet in all sorts of directions. The wind blows sand into my ears, nose, eyes and anywhere else it can possibly get.
Two other trekkers stand by me, trying to take my mind off the pain in my boots, it works and I make it to camp and collapse. How I made it I don’t know.
I find in my pockets some of the fossils I had found along the way, millions of years old and still around. Amazing. I remember the afternoon, trudging through the sand dunes of Bougarnne, my feet filling up with more and more sand making everyone feel like their socks are sandpaper.
At night, after some well deserved fish, a few of us climb a large dune to watch the sunset. We sit at the top in silence, in respect for this old and wise landscape going to sleep. The sun sets quickly, the light remains long enough for a few dune races, I then sleep on top of the dunes for the night. During the night sand fills up my sleeping bag along with my face again. I see loads of comets and shooting stars as the moon is yet to rise and the stars take over the skies, each with a story to tell of their own.
I wake in the morning to the most amazing view I have ever seen. The sky is red and clear, I can see nothing but sand dunes, three inches in front of my head is massive drop down the side of the dune, the horizon pushes the sun upwards in a display of amazement and beauty.
The desert falls silent again, its as if it knows what the sun is doing and when the sun has risen, the noises of camels and the wind begin to roar once more.
Day 5
I see the doctor; my feet are destroyed so I decide to bandage them up as much as humanly possible. I squeeze my padded trotters into my boots and head off down Hamada, or stony flat desert. My feet swell inside my boots as I again walk differently to try to ease the pain, so more blister develop on my toes. The rocky terrain plays havoc with my feet and one final step just before lunch sees me collapse in a heap. I take my boots off and I physically could not get them back on.
I fear my trek is over, disappointment runs through my veins in a few minutes of fury and rage. Thoughts of letting everyone down, my sponsors, my family and the rest of the group sweep my brain. I sit at lunch wondering what to do. I eat an array of vegetables, olives and meat until I finally decide to see out the day on the camel’s back. I feel useless. The group sets off into the distance and I am left at the back alone with my thoughts.
My thoughts, this is the first time since I left the hotel where I can actually think! All the time we have been walking, our thoughts were set on the ground in front of us, thinking about each and every step. As I sit upon this massive beast, the ship of the desert, I take in everything that is around me. I begin to truly appreciate the landscape; I notice how much it changes very quickly. I notice how the camels and the desert seem to be able to talk to each other to make the journey as easy as possible. I sit in silence, the beats of the camel’s steps relax my body and I feel so small and insignificant in this massive desert.
I think about my reasons for doing this trek, my sister, my family, and my friends. I know they are proud of me just for getting here, just like the families and friends of everyone who was there. I feel warm inside and a smile appears on my face, my sister was walking beside me, helping me along every step of the way.
We cross a ridge and on the horizon we see Chgaga, the largest sand dunes of the area, standing at 300m. I continue on the camel in silence until we make it to our camp at the base of the dunes. I sleep on a rocky, flat area with nothing but the stars lighting my way. I drift away only to be woken by a donkey sniffing at my feet. An amusing event follows concerning this donkey that I shall leave out as it makes me sound a bit stupid!! In the distance I can hear drums of a local Berber camp over the dunes, the rhythm slowly sends me back to sleep.
Day 6
Again I start the day with the Doc. My feet being wrapped and padded to the extreme. A 300m dune stands before us, I can’t get my boots on, I can’t miss out on climbing this dune. Another trekker had taken some slipper-boot things to wear at night, they fit perfectly, and so I decided to see how they stood up to the sand dunes of Chgaga. We set off and the huge mound stood before us.
The weather gave us no wind, which allowed the climb to be much easier. The slopes soon became hills that soon felt like we were walking vertically, feet sinking, sand everywhere. Slowly everyone reaches the top, its like standing on a knife-edge but the views are fantastic. The rolling dunes to the south, the Jebel Bani to the north and a steep, steep decent in front of us, which could only mean one thing…..
Races down the dune. Run, skip, jump, feet hardly touching the sand we are moving so fast. A few people stumble and end up rolling, I feel like I am flying, until I hit the ground with a thud at the bottom.
We spend the rest of the day in and around the dunes, passing by a few nomadic encampments by the occasional green patches. As the day wears thin, we make it out of the dunes to camp underneath the Jebel Bani, which a few days ago was only a dot on the horizon and a distant dream.
Day 7
Our last day, my boots are forced on my feet, the camels are loaded and off we go. An early morning as it was our last night sleeping on the dunes and the last time to witness the amazing sunrise. We wake at 5am and set off at 7. After several kilometres of Hamada with the dunes by our side, we wave goodbye to these along with all the Acacia trees and onto a vast saltpan. The heat reflects viciously from the surface making this the hottest day so far at 48.5 degrees.
In front of us is a huge, huge lake, nope, a mirage. A mirage in every direction as the spectacular saltpan plays with our minds. Our destination cannot be seen once more as distances are impossible to measure. We pitch a tent for lunch, as there is no shelter and hide away from the hottest part of the day. The silence once again is deafening.
The finish is only 2 hours away. Our hundredth kilometre is upon us. The finish line is in site. A rendition of “She’ll be coming round the mountain” breaks from my lips which turns into the whole group “Singing aye-aye yipee yipee aye!” over the finish line.
A dusty, bumpy ride home in the back of a cattle truck the next morning finished us all off nicely, and the evening’s festivities were a great way to round of a demanding week.
100 kilometres of rocks, sand, dunes, wind, blisters, sand, heat, sand, sand, sand. But here we all are. Hugs spread around us all, tears from a few. We challenged the desert and defeated it. The weather tried to stop us but we pushed on, our bodies wanted to give in but we would not let them. Whenever anyone was in doubt, we remembered why we were there. To help a cause which is close to our hearts. To remember a loved one who we have lost. Or challenge themselves because of a condition they have battled against and won.
I walked this trek with, in my opinion, true heroes. Each with their own desert to cross, but ultimately, we all walked the same path together, helped each other through and we can now say we have done it. I believe this trek was more emotionally challenging for me, as well as physically. I conquered the desert in my thoughts and emotions for the first time since I lost my sister nearly 8 years ago, and I’m sure many others did the same.
Mark Fox
Mark’s Desert Trek has raised nearly £4000 for CRY. It is still possible to sponsor Mark for completing the trek – please visit his online donations page at www.justgiving.com/markfox
