Stage 6: March Of The Blue Brigade

Saturday 14th April 2014
Igadoun Tarhbalt to Aït Ichchou - 7.7km
Not timed

"You can shove your charity stage up your arse, you can shove you charity stage up your arse...". Lying in my sleeping bag utterly wrecked, this is what I began to sing not long after I woke on what was to be our final morning in the desert. It wasn't long before Anj joined in, followed by Tent141. The song took off momentarily before the realisation that we had no choice but to complete the 7.7km stage or we would not be leaving the desert. The song died quickly.

As I sat up to watch the volunteers and medical staff waving at us as they left in a convoy of beeping 4x4s, I remembered that I had no food worth eating and I could not stomach another Power Bar, energy gel or flapjack.

Slowly but surely I began to get dressed. I had slept in my tracksters, so had to put back on my shorts, which seemed to have become bigger since the start of the race. Patrick reminded me that I was significantly thinner than when I started, so that explained the shorts. My brain was suffering from the lack of food. At least we did not have to put back on our racing tops, as the organisers gave us blue Unicef tshirts to wear for the stage.

After dumping any gear that was no longer required and using my last sac-a-caca, Tent140 came together for a final huddle (I swear I washed my hands first). The huddles had worked well all week, giving all of us some extra motivation every morning. Each member of the tent would say something encouraging before Anj would finish with the mantra of "may the odds ever be in our favour" and off we would go to face whatever the desert was throwing at us for the day.



Beautiful In Blue - Tent 140 On The Final Day

We made our way down to the start line at the slowest pace we had moved at all week. Patrick's feet were in bits and I wasn't far behind him. Walking was painful but we had no choice. There were no 4x4s left to hitch a ride with.

Down at the start line for our final briefing, we all agreed to walk the stage. Anj handed me a jelly sweet for breakfast. Nice! We were then reminded that we would be dancing to "Happy" by Pharrell Williams for the second time that week, although I reckoned there would be significantly less enthusiasm than there was on the long day. There seemed to be a problem with the music, so while we waited I started a slow clap, which most of the competitors joined in with.

  

Eventually we danced (sort of, see below) for quite some time before one last blast of ACDC. Over 900 people hobbled off the start line. We looked like a bunch of geriatrics out for a protest march. There were groans and moans. Some of the runners did run to be fair, including Hicham El Guerrouj, who had joined us for the charity stage. I'm not sure how many of the competitors felt charitable at that point.

I walked most of the way having banter with Alex and for a short period a Frenchman discussing drugs in cycling. It was mostly sandy terrain, with a couple of small hills. Tent140, with the exception of Patrick, came back together for the final walk in to the village of Aït Ichchou.



Competitors Leaving The Start Line For The Charity Stage

As we approached the finish line, I noticed a small boy sitting on the sand, watching us all coming in. He had flies on his face and looked fairly miserable. I knelt down beside him and took off my watch and placed it in his hand. He was a little confused as to what exactly I was doing, but once he realised I was giving him a present, his face lit up. I smiled and walked off. It was an apt way to leave something behind me in the desert. The organisers also left 24 computers to a school in the village, more of the MDS spirit that Patrick Bauer promotes.

As we crossed the line, we were handed some Moroccan bread, a bottle of water and a packed lunch. The finish area was busy with volunteers directing us toward the buses. I spoke to the translator lady, telling her how impressed I was with the fact that she could translate Patrick's long briefings and how I was amused that he would speak for three or four minutes and she would translate for thirty seconds. She was also amused it seemed.

I walked down to the buses with Ian, who had gotten his secretary in London to book us a taxi, but there was none to be found, so I hopped on a bus and grabbed a seat. We had heard it could be up to a six hour journey and the seats were pretty tight. This was going to be a nightmare. On the plus side, the lunch was a good distraction, but I had it finished before the bus took off and was hungry for more.

An English man named John sat in beside me. He was from the Channel Islands and was into hockey, so we had a good chat for about thirty minutes before we both fell asleep.

Surprisingly the roads were quite good and the views driving through the desert were spectacular as we passed over some mountainous terrain. After only three hours, we began to see signs for Ouarzazate (pronounced war-za-zat apparently) and twenty minutes later we had pulled up outside the French competitors' hotel.

The town seemed nice, as if it was built for tourists. The world's biggest film studios, Atlas, is based just outside the town. Some of the films that have been made there include Gladiator, The Living Daylights, The Mummy and Babel, as well as episodes from Game of Thrones.

The Berbere Palace Hotel was a sight for sore eyes. It was the only five star hotel used by the MDS groups, and it was only used by the British and Irish competitors. I was one of the first through the door and had organised a triple room for Patrick, Ian and I in quick time. There was no sign of Patrick, but Ian and I headed up to the room, where I graciously gave Ian the double bed, relegating Patrick and I to smaller single beds in what can only be described as a child-sized room. 

As a reward, Ian ordered some beers, crisps, nuts and cokes from room service and grabbed a well deserved shower. Patrick fell through the door a few minutes later. He was in a bad state with his feet. It was out with the medical kit for both of us, as I decided to cut my sand gaiters off with a scissors as it would have hurt too much to remove them over my feet. Ripping off the strapping on my feet was a less than pleasant experience, made a little easier by the presence of coke, salty treats and finally, an ice-cold beer. Worth waiting for...

Patrick eventually managed to get into the shower, although I have no idea how he managed it. By the time I got in, I had long finished my beer. As everyone in the complex was showering, there was very little water pressure but I didn't care, it just felt good to wash off the salt, dirt and grime. It was a case of shampoo, rinse and repeat and repeat again several times. Eventually I felt clean enough to leave the shower and shaved off my 'beard' in front of the mirror. I barely recognised myself as I looked as if I hadn't eaten food for weeks. I was to find out later that I had lost 9lbs or over 4 kilos through the week.

After putting on our glad rags (and flip flops), we hit the bar, along with the rest of the starving and thirsty masses. We spent the evening hanging out with the Irish contingent and Tent140, drinking beers, eating dinner and having the craic. It was all too much for some and most were gone to bed relatively early. I was not long off to bed after this but my feet and ankles were so swollen, I stayed up sitting on the couch with my feet raised. Eventually I got to bed, ensuring I set my my alarm so that I didn't miss out on breakfast - I had to find a way to put back on those 9lbs!

Banter And Booze - Phil, Eoin, Paul, Claire, Ann-Marie and Patrick

It was an odd feeling to sleep on a mattress with a duvet. The ordeal had officially come to an end. Only one last challenge and that was to find a way to fall asleep through Patrick's snoring. It seems I was so tired, I really didn't notice it and within minutes of putting my head on the pillow, I was gone. 

       

Stage 3: Keeping It In Reserve

Tuesday 8th April 2014
Oued Moungarf to Ba Hallou - 37.5 km
Allowed Time: 10.5 hours

The routine was now firmly set. Wake 5.30am. Berbers walk past tent on way to first tent in our line 6.00am. Dress, eat, pack, 'sac-a-caca', sun cream, water, Tent 140 huddle (Anj: may odds be for ever in our favour). 08.15am. Start line 8.30am. Long briefing 8.40am. ACDC 9.00am. Go!

'Eat' today consisted of strawberries and porridge. I ate two spoonfuls and could eat no more. It was so sweet - that was it on the packed breakfasts front for me. It does sound crazy that during a week running in the desert where your body burns fuel like there's no tomorrow, you don't actually want sweet food. You crave savoury and it wasn't just me, it was everyone.

It meant that I was going to have to be smart with my food from now on, as I still had 3 more breakfasts, none of which I was going to eat. Nor was I going to eat the 'Mighty Bars' I had brought, 500 calories in a fruit, nut and protein-packed 100g flapjack. This meant I would be losing 3,500 calories, which is a lot in such a demanding environment when you only brought 19,800 for the week. 

In his briefing Patrick Bauer informed us that there were only 978 competitors taking the start line. We were now down by 51, the race really beginning to take its toll.

The morning also included a Team Eire photo, with the additional Irish we had met in the first few days. During the briefing, my Joe Duffy impressions ("We'd a woman on there from the Sahara area....") were met with more bemusement than amusement, so they were promptly abandoned.

Some Of Team Eire On Stage 3 - BR: Phil, Paul, Ann Marie, Niall, Patrick, Eoin, Daniel FR: Linda, Claire, Rachel

Ahead of us for today was a 37.5km jaunt through  the usual terrain in 36 degrees. The stage included the ascent of the Al Opath Jebel at 17km, at an average of 12% gradient followed by some fun in the dunes.

By now I was used to running with Daniel and we pushed each other well. We had initially passed each other a couple of times in the early kilometres of the stage but ended up running 4 on/1 off all the way to CP1 just after 10km, which was in the middle of rolling sandy dunes, which lasted until 14km. .

We both used the 'grab water and go' strategy and away we went along the rolling dunes toward the jebel. Just before hitting the jebel, Niall, Paul and Ann Marie caught up with us and the five of us climbed together through a narrow rocky gorge with sandy sections.

Paul, Daniel, Niall And Ann Marie Before The Ascent of Al Opath Jebel

I have a fear of falling on steep descents, so I didn't bother to take in the view from the top. My lungs were burning but I just went straight down the other side and the others followed behind me a few minutes later. Ahead of us the dunes rose quickly and I began to struggle. Thanks to Ann Marie for dragging me along, I managed to keep up just about as we went up and down the undulating dunes towards CP2. It was a tough section with difficult soft sand to deal with and we were slipping around the place.
 

CP2 arrived at 23.5km after a fun but very steep descent from the last of the big dunes. No messing around again and Daniel and I were on our way towards CP3. After another couple of kilometres of rolling dunes, we were met with some stony terrain which allowed us to speed up.

At 27.5km, I knew we were due to hit some 'oued-style' terrain. When I read the Road Book, I did not like the idea of a 5km oued section, but it turns out this oued was more dry mud than soft sand. Parts of it resembled pavlova, where you put your foot on it and it crunched through but it was shallow and did not hamper progress.

It was here we came across Anj and Sian. Sian was moving gingerly - she had damaged her knee in a fall at home the previous year and had undergone surgery to deal with it (under Anj's medical care of course). She was bravely soldiering on, with General Coia Bell acting as Mrs. Motivator!   

We pushed on to CP3, knowing we would only have 5km left. The Road Book indicated 3km of good going, with a final 2km of rolling sandy terrain. Daniel and I decided not to run, to preserve energy for the 81.5km nightmare that awaited us the following day.

We kept the pace up as we left the checkpoint, deep in discussion about life and why we were both there. This was Daniel's second MDS, but he had some good reasons to come back and I could tell he was motivated to be there. 

We past the Ba Hallou ruins (thought to be pre-Christ apparently) without giving them a second glance and then once again we could see the finish. Not surprisingly it was 2km away through rolling sand mounds. Only one thing to do - head down and go - and we marched our way in to the finish.

I was exhausted. Even the sugary Sultan tea we got on arrival each day did nothing for me. I made my way back to the tent via the water tent, doing my best not to drop my bottles from tiredness and pains in my feet. The speedsters were in - Patrick and Ian flying the flag for the tent again. Anj and Sian were not too far behind me and Alex and Rich marched in smiling - 7 out, 7in. I was 407th for the stage and around 380th overall.

Chicken Tikka in soup form from the roof of the tent for dinner (again I added too much water) along with some nuts and a Pepperami mini from Sian and Anj. Pepperami are the new black as far as I was concerned - meaty, savoury, salty, fatty, tasty, flavoursome sticks of goodness. 

Our emails were delivered and I was in stitches at my sisters' emails. One of them had accidentally sent an email to Mohamed Ahansel telling them that her son, Sam, needed glasses and the other sent me an email with "all the news from home", of which the news that her brother-in-law Pat had bought a new tractor and everyone was admiring it. We all had a good laugh, especially at the notion of Mohamed Ahansel opening my sister's email. 

After the food and some medical care 'a la Phil', I was feeling better. There was a slight sense of apprehension in Tent 140 that night when I got back from the email tent and we were getting ready to go to sleep (8.00pm). Alex and Rich were planning at which checkpoints they would have a rest or a sleep at. Ian and Patrick were doing their best to psyche each other out, in a friendly manner of course. Anj and Sian were sorting out their kit, getting ready for the long day.

I got into my sleeping bag and read the Road Book again. Tomorrow was the key to the whole week - get through it in one piece and finishing the Marathon des Sables, something I had wanted to do since I saw it on a Transworld Sport Special television programme, was a real possibility. Food and water strategy would need to be spot on and I had my plan in my head. And with that plan rolling around my brain, I rolled over and slept uncomfortably again for another night!   

Road Book for Stage 3:

Maximum authorised time : 10.30
 
Km 0 : Go S/SW (course 195°) on flat, slightly stony terrain.
Km 2,7 : Hilly, stony terrain.
Km 3,7 : Touh Ilh Jebel to the right. Go S/W (course 221°) until CP1.
Sandy passage then variably stony terrain.
Km 5,4 : Sandy terrain, sand mounds with camel grass then small dunes. Stay on course.
Km 7,7 : Enter dunes. Take course 221° until CP1.
Km 10,6 : CP1 at dune exit. Go W/SW (course 253°) to follow large dunes on the right-hand side. Sandy, rolling terrain.
Km 14,8 : Sand ends. Go West (course 264°) until km 17.1. Variably stony terrain.
Km 17,1 : Start of climb up Foum Al Opath Jebel (average slope: 12%). Rocky gorge.
Km 18,2 : Jebel summit. Go West (course 277°) until CP2. Sandy descent.
Km 20,4 : Enter dunes. Take direction 277°.
Km 23,5 : CP2 at dune exit. Go N/W (course 325°). Variably stony terrain.
Km 23,9 : Take direction 325° and cross dunes.
Km 26,9 : End of dunes. Go N/W (course 312°) until km 27.5. Stony terrain.
Km 27,5 : End of stony terrain. General direction North (course 356°) until CP3.
Follow marking to keep Rheris Oued on the left. Oued vegetation and dirt track.
Km 32,5 : CP3 at foot of a hillock. Stay on course (course 357°) until Ba Hallou ruins, leaving Rheris Oued
to the left.
Km 35,6 : Ba Hallou ruins. Same direction. Sandy terrain, small dunes and camel grass.
Km 37,5 : B3 finish line.

 

Stage 2: The Littlest Hobo

Monday 7th April 2014
Erg Znaigui to Oued Moungarf - 41 km
Allowed Time: 11 hours

It was just after midnight on the morning of Stage 2. Due to the highly abnormal conditions I found myself in (desert, multi-stage marathon, freeze dried food etc.), my body decided to wake me to answer the call of nature. As I returned to the tent and was getting into my sleeping bag, I heard the following: "F*ckin' c*nt, d*ck, b*tch....race director d*ck, f*ckin' c*nt". If it had been a movie, there would have been one large continuous beep. I was too tired to be concerned and so tucked myself back in to my sleeping bag and fell asleep.  

Just after 5.30am, I woke in my sleeping bag with a stone jamming into my hip. I had slipped off my thermarest half-mattress during the night. It had been warm going to bed but cold air infiltrated the tent during the night and I had stuck my buff over my head to stay warm, which was now over my face. I had forgotten about what I heard during the night.

The race against the Berbers was on. They walked past our tent just after 6am each morning, a few of them smiling, on their way to the first tent in the line. We were the 7th tent on that line, so time was always of the essence.

You had to get your food cooked and eaten and had to be ready to go before they pulled down the tent and exposed you to the morning sun. The stove was out and water was heated, some to rehydrate my granola (again) for breakfast and some to make coffee and tea for Patrick and I. I had brought dried skimmed milk along with some teabags - some home comforts I suppose. 

Breakfast in Tent 140 On The Morning Of Stage 2 - Patrick, Phil, Alex (Lying Down), Rich

On top of all of that, sleeping bags needed to be rolled, bags to be pack, 'sac-a-cacas' to be filled, sun cream to be put on and bottles to be filled. It helped to take your mind off what was coming, not only the race I mean, but also Patrick Bauer's briefing.

It was the same breakfast as yesterday - granola. Alas it was too much, the sugary sweetness from the raspberries almost made me vomit. I had a few spoonfuls and ate some nuts. That would have to do. It was all I could manage.

This was not the best preparation for our first meeting with a jebel, which was to come at the latter end of the stage. A jebel is essentially a mountain and in the MDS they tended to be steep, sandy mountain passes, the more difficult the better. I had read about them in other MDS accounts and was glad not have met one on the first stage (the dunes were a more than adequate welcome) but today was the day.

Eventually I was set and ready to go, with a good few minutes to spare. We had just had our huddle with Anj reinforcing our motto for the week. It was then when I heard what can only be described as disappointment and saw competitors in tears being hugged by their tent-mates coming from the group in Tent 141. It was beginning to make sense, the cursing from the early hours of the morning and now what I was seeing in front of me - someone was being removed from the race. In fact it was 2 girls from Tent 141, an American and an English woman. They had missed the cut off time to cross the final set of dunes on Day 1 as they claimed they had been misguided by a race official and got lost. They had even had a meeting with Patrick Bauer that morning, all to no avail. They were out and transport back to Ouarzazate (the town where we are taken after the race for a bit of recovery before flying home) was being arranged. They lost their €200 deposit and would have to pay for their own hotel or arrange their own flight back. Little did anyone know, but these two would end up having an adventure of a lifetime, but more on this in a later post.   



Tent 140 Tent-mate Olympian Sian Brice Before Stage 2

So on to the briefing, which was exactly as the day before, unnecessarily long, especially if you had read the Road Book. Just before I spotted Mohamed Ahansel, an MDS legend, who has won the race three times. I asked him for a quick photo and he said he was delighted to oblige. He wished me luck. I told him I'd see him out there (knowing well I wouldn't).
 

Three Times MDS Winner Mohamed Ahansel

To most people's surprise, it was announced at the briefing that 27 runners had either abandoned the race or been disqualified - this is an unusually high number for the first stage, but then it was an unusually difficult first stage.

This did not come as a surprise to me - the opening stage was included some very tough terrain coupled with very hot temperatures. A man dressed as a cow and a 16 year old began the race the day before (I mean seriously?). I witnessed the carnage that ensued in the dunes and at the checkpoints where athletes suffered from the heat and dehydration. It was the same reason that a medic was double checking competitors in the final set of dunes. This is not meant to be an easy adventure in the Sahara, it is designed to be a difficult, harsh and testing race and on this, Stage 2, there was no sign of Cowman and no sign of the youngster.

As with the first day, Patrick counted down, ACDC set the tone and off we went into the unknown (unless you'd read the Road Book of course).

The first 11.5km to CP1 were relatively straightforward. I decided to run a 4 minute on/1 minute off schedule to see how my legs were and how the IT Band would hold up. With the exception of the dunes around the 5km mark and an oued or two, it went well and I felt good at CP1 knowing I was a quarter of the way into the stage.

As usual I kept with my game plan of not stopping at the checkpoint and kept the head down once I had refilled my water. CP2 was another 14.5km away, which is a long way with temperatures approaching 39 degrees (chilly compared to Stage 1). We ran straight through a village with kids cheering us on. The fact that we were running on a dirt track meant that it was possible to keep a relatively high pace when running and the terrain remained favourable for much of the early part of the section.

9km later we crossed a small oued and then had to deal with a lot of sandy terrain, again difficult to run in. I covered this section with a chap named Gary from Antrim and we talked our way through several sandy valleys into rolling dunes before arriving at CP2, 26km into the stage. I thought things were going well, the back was broken on the stage (in my mind at least) and I had 15km to go. I felt confident. Again the MDS was to throw a spanner in the works - don't expect anything.

Straight through CP2 for me (Gary stopped for a while) and I marched on, feeling good, for a couple of kilometres until I came across a 1km section of oued to cross. It was my favourite - soft sand! I had no other option but to trudge through it. Daniel (of the tricolour hair), running with an Englishman named Danny, had passed me just before the oued encouraging me to run and I thought I would as soon as I crossed the oued.

Soft sand has this way of sapping your energy and Outanouel Oued did just that. I exited the oued and onto a long stony plateau, where I should have been able to cover the ground well. I had nothing left in the tank - despite sticking to my plan in terms of race nutrition (energy bars and energy jellies), the fact that I couldn't finish my breakfast fully was coming back to haunt me.

Feeling sorry for myself I walked another kilometre or so. I had to do something or it was going to be a long, lonely trek in. Out with my antique MP3 player (it ran on a AAA battery as opposed to a rechargeable one as I had no way of charging in the desert) in the hope of giving myself some motivation.

"There's a voice that keeps on calling me, down the road, that's where I'll always be. Every stop I make, I make a new friend, can't stay for long, just turn around and I'm gone again...maybe tomorrow, I'll want to settle down, until tomorrow, I'll just keep moving on...". It was the theme tune from The Littlest Hobo (see below if you don't remember it) and it was all I needed. My mental state improved immediately and with it my tempo and speed. I was on a mission. It is amazing what will lift your spirit.

"Down this road that never seems to end, where new adventure lies just around the bend. So if you want to join me for a while, just grab your hat, come travel light, that's hobo style...". 

I soon caught a group who had passed me not long before. Avalanche's Frontier Psychiatrist (apt!) and Feeder's Just a Day followed and only served to push me on further and faster as I climbed to a small village at 32.5km, followed by another ascent up to CP3 before the climb of the dreaded  El Abath Jebel (15% gradient).

The jebel was a lot steeper and sandier than I had expected and the final 500m were extremely tough on the legs. With every step you took forward, your foot would slip half a stride backward. It was disheartening to put in huge efforts to climb and seem like you were going nowhere.

The Sandy Approach To the El Abath Jebel Ascent

Eventually I hit the summit after what seemed an age. Standing on the top, enjoying the view, was Daniel and Danny. I was trying to ride the wave of the good mood I was in for as long as I could, so it was down the other side without even lifting my head. 6.5km to go.

I have a habit of getting over something difficult and then taking it easy on myself as a reward and my brain switched into this mode as I began to walk. Daniel and Danny came jogging past about three minutes later and I eventually felt the urge to run again as soon as they were around 500m beyond me. With 5km to go, we entered yet another oued, with yet more soft sand. I caught up with the 2 Daniels at this point and we travelled together through a stony plateau and a narrow gorge until the finish line came into view with around 2km to go. 

Daniel (tricolour) and I pressed on at this point after a quick photo opportunity. We ran/walked in to the finish. This was the first stage where I had experienced the "finish line in the distance" effect (Stage 1 had a short run in), when you see the finish line long before you reach it. There was worse to come later in the week.

 



Daniel And I With 2km To Go. The Finish Is In The Distance Just Over Daniel's Shoulder

 

No bag check this time. Grabbed my water and went to Tent 140 to get my feet up. Again Patrick was first back, followed by Ian. The girls were in after me and the ever reliable Alex and Rich made it 7 out, 7 in, again. I was in in 379th, a good improvement on Stage 1.

To her credit, Anj forced me to make use of the golden hour again and it was Asian Chicken Noodles with Vegetables for dinner. Again I made it into a soup as I added too much water and chucked it onto the roof to heat up. This was followed by a 'selfie' medical check, diagnosis and treatment on the feet and a diphene to prevent any inflammation in or around my IT Band.

Emails were delivered, which again lifted spirits and I made it to the email tent to send off my solitary to email to my wife Yvonne. I returned to the tent to read all about Stage 3 in my Road Book. It is at this point that I noticed Alex and Rich planning their day. They would discuss in detail their plans for the following day, where they would rest, where they would eat and how they were going to pace it. I wish I had been that diligent but all I did was spot the fact that there were a few oueds, some dune sections and another jebel to negotiate. 

Just before I drifted off, both Patrick to my left and Alex to my right started snoring. I was the meat in the snore sandwich. I turned myself around to let my feet take the noise and drifted off to sleep dreaming of my favourite TV dog, The Littlest Hobo. 

Road Book for Stage 2:

Maximum authorised time : 11.00
Km 0 : Take general direction S/SW (course 218°) until km 5.7.
Km 0,9 : Rare small dunes becoming denser.
Km 4,2 : Hill to the right. Flat terrain.
Km 4,7 : Small dunes of Beg’a Oued. Follow markings to avoid crops.
Km 5,7 : Exit oued. Slightly stony plateau. Go S/W (course 233°) until CP1.
Km 10,9 : Cross oued. Sand mounds and camel grass.
Km 11,5 : CP1 to the left of a row of trees. Go W/NW (course 294°).
Km 12,3 : Cross a large track.
Km 13 : Hill and old village of Taouz to the left.
Km 14,8 : Turn left direction W/SW (course 246°) and go along Ziz Oued to the right with Kfiroun Jebel
to the left. Fairly uneven dirt track.
Km 18,9 : General course 281° to CP2. Cross crevice of Ziz Oued. Go W/NW (course 295°).
Uneven dirt track.
Km 20,6 : End of rough terrain. Go W/NW (course 286°) and cross succession of small sandy valleys and stony plateaus.
Km 23 : Rocky peak to the left. Continue on stony plateau direction West (course 277°) until CP2.
Km 24,6 : Enter small dunes. Course 277°.
Km 26 : CP2 at exit of small dunes. Go S/SW (course 214°) on flat, slightly stony terrain.
Km 28,3 : Cross Outanouel Oued. Sand mounds and camel grass.
Km 29,2 : Oued ends. Go S/SW (course 211°) until km 32.5.
Flat, slightly stony terrain with sparse small dunes.
Km 32,5 : Climb to village of Jdaid from by the well.
Same direction (course 210°) until CP3. Ascending, stony terrain.
Km 34,1 : CP3 before climbing El Abeth Jebel (15% slope).
Km 34,6 : Sandy summit of El Abeth Jebel. Descend S/W (course 231°), sandy and increasingly stony.
Km 36 : Follow oued bed to avoid rocky terrain.
Km 37,3 : Leave oued to the right, direction West (course 264°). Stony terrain.
Km 38,4 : Passage through very small gorge, then go West (course 268°) and cross small hill. Stony.
Km 39 : Passage through hilly area. Go W/NW (course 285°) until bivouac. Terrain less and less stony.
Km 41 : B2 finish line.

Stage 1: Highway to Hell

Sunday 6th April 2014

Ouest Erg Chebbi / Erg Znaigui - 34 Km
Allowed Time: 10 hours

"Living easy, living free, season ticket on a one-way ride. Asking nothing, leave me be, taking everything in my stride. Don't need reason, don't need rhyme, ain't nothing I would rather do. Going down, party time, my friends are gonna be there too...I'm on the highway to hell, highway to hell..."

And with ACDC ringing in our ears from the speakers, we set off on the 29th MDS, our MDS.

It had been a busy morning. First I woke to the realisation that in a few hours I would be running through probably the most difficult terrain and temperatures I had ever experienced. Secondly, I had to 'cook' (rehydrate) my granola and raspberry breakfast and thirdly had to repack my kit away inside my backpack. All of this and I had to fill a 'sac-a-caca' before the start. There was a lot to do.

Around 6am each morning, the Berbers (the Moroccan staff who are responsible for the camp) begin to take down the bivouac, whether you are up or not. They are happy to remove your tent whilst you are eating or packing under them and do so without making a fuss exposing you to the morning sun in the desert. We had been up since around 5.30am. My granola was just about edible and I just about managed to finish it. I was not sure how I was going to eat any more of it in the days to come.

After a quick visit to the 'sac-a-caca' filling station and a rousing team huddle ending with "may the odds ever be in our favour " (thanks Anj!), we headed down to the start line. I was feeling a mix of emotions - excitement, nervousness, trepidation, anticipation - but tried to keep my game face on. Before I knew it we were ushered in to a large '29' so that the helicopter could take an aerial shot before the start.



The Competitors Forming A Giant 29 To Symbolise The 2014 MDS (I Am Near The Top Of The 9)

Patrick Bauer gave us our race briefing for the day's stage, outlining the terrain and how much water you received at each check point. His briefings, it was beginning to become apparent, would be far from brief and I had pity for the poor translator, who would sometimes have to wait a couple of minutes before actually being allowed to speak. How she remembered what she was translating is beyond me.

The key thing to note from this was there was a 10 hour cut off for competitors. How the Asian man dressed as a cow was going to complete it in that time with that heat was beyond me. There was also a 16 year old (yes 16) from Texas racing with her parents. What were they thinking?

Team Eire Before The Off

At this stage I was a ball of nervous energy and just wanted to go. Then came the countdown, the volume turned up, ACDC blaring and before I knew it we were off! "I'm on the highway to hell" blasting through the speakers as we crossed under the start line. The tune was particularly apt for one competitor, Ted Jackson, who had the fortune (as he would see it) to be given 666 as his race number. Ted, as you can see from below, took the bull by both horns (ha!) and went all out in his race gear. He had already appeared on Al Jazeera (UK) that morning from the bivouac.

Meet Ted - The MDS Devil

The first 3km were over  hard gravels, a nice way to warm up. That's where the fun ended though, as the Erg Chebbi Dunes came closer and closer and then suddenly we were on it - the soft sand, with miles of it to go. 

10 Minutes Into The 29th MDS - Erg Chebbi Dunes Approaching Fast

For the average athlete like myself, there's not a lot you can do in the dunes. Running is not only difficult but in many cases pointless and so it becomes a trudge, following in footsteps of others. Up and down we went, slipping and sliding and trying to push on. You could really only run the downhill sections and they seemed few and far between. On top of that, you had to ensure you were drinking and taking your salt.

For me I ended up walking with Niall Murphy (see previous post) and we continued our discussions on people we both knew, GAA (my limited knowledge being exposed), UCC, living in London and of course school stories. This was a major help in passing the time during the slog. 

Early Days In The Dunes (Hence The Big Smile!)

The dune section seemed to drag on and I was faced with having to deal with no water remaining in my bottle, when Checkpoint (CP) 1 came into view. Oddly though, we arrived at it from the side, rather than front on and immediately I knew we had taken a wrong turn in the dunes. We would later find out we had added 2km onto the stage and the temperatures were touching 47 degrees. "All I did was follow the guy in front of me" I thought, "surely they were following the leaders and I was following them". My assumption was correct but the leaders have their own way of doing things. Learn the lesson - don't expect anything.

CP1 was a welcome sight all the same - 2 x 1.5L bottles allowed me to fill my two front bottles (one containing water, the other had a High5 Zero tablet in for electrolytes), pour some over my head and drink what was left. Some of those I was walking with decided to stop for a short period of time and rest. My thinking was simple - keep going, even if you have to go easy for a little bit and get your rest in at the end of the day - the sooner I was home, the more rest I would get. It served me well.

I took off from CP1 jogging slowly. I shortly encountered the first of many 'oueds' I would see for the week. An oued is a dry river bed and nearly all of them were wide, very sandy and difficult to run in. Because of this, I was left with no option other than to power walk my way through it and try to find as much solid ground as I could to run on. 

After 20 minutes, Ann Marie came storming through, powering her way along the oued. She offered words of encouragement, I smiled and told her to push on - she did. Not long after a small group came past - it was Anj and Sian from my tent, along with a gaggle of Irish, including Paul, Eoin and Daniel (he of the tricolour and English flag in his hair). They were doing 5 minute intervals of running and walking. More encouragement led to more smiling.

After 6km of this, I finally hit hard ground. The trail led through a stony plateau toward the abandoned mining town of M'Fiss before a short descent to CP2. After the oued, I was pleased to be able to actually run for the first time in over 4 hours.

It was at this point that I experienced my first of what would be many emotional moments throughout the week. I was running a 1 minute on/1 minute off strategy and I caught up with a Frenchman, with whom I traded positions for a while as when I was 'off' he was 'on' and vice-versa. Attached to his backpack was an A4-sized poster with a  picture of a man who I assume was his friend or brother with the words "For Fabrice". I am not 100% sure if it was Fabrice or Patrice or Patrick (I really should have remembered given the fact that we would pass each other on most days of the race), but I thought what a great gesture this was as I passed him again. A few minutes later he came back and went ahead. As he passed, I could see the effort he was putting in was huge and he had an intense look of determination across his face. It made me think of some lost friends, particularly my friend Elmer (see earlier blog posts), and the tears started rolling down my face. It was a memorable and positive moment and it served to raise motivation and helped me to push on and start running again. 

I managed to catch up with the 5 minute on/5 minute off group and left CP2 with most of them, tears long gone at this stage. This left a couple of hilly climbs and descents before entry into another oued and a 3km section of dunes (you can imagine my smile at that stage). All I wanted to do was finish the stage as quickly as possible, so I ran the sections that were hard under foot and power walked the sections I couldn't. 

Daniel and I managed to reach the dune section together and we both put our head down and powered on. Tiredness was creeping in for both of us - at one stage we came to a narrow section of dunes to which I slowed down and gestured to Daniel that he could go ahead . "I can't" says Daniel! I was feeling the same way too.

With 2km to go, we came across our first victim of the heat - a competitor was lying in the shadow of an organiser's jeep and he seemed in a bad way. As we rounded another dune about 500m further on, the same scene, this time with 2 competitors down receiving attention. The medic looked at me and asked if I was ok, I smiled again and nodded - smiling was difficult at that point but we were almost home.

As we rounded the final dune, the finish came into sight and both Daniel and I marched our way in, joined by Paul at the finish line. Tired, hot, salty and uncomfortable - that's how I would describe myself and all I wanted to do was get my water and find my tent. As I was walking to get the water, I was horrified to be hauled aside for a bag check. Just what I needed. They had actually asked Daniel, but I made the mistake of sitting down first, meaning they only wanted to check my bag.

Poor Thierry - the pleasant grey-haired Frenchman who had the unenviable task of taking me through the bag check - I felt sorry for him in some ways but also wanted to punch him in the face at the same time. To his credit, he apologised and said he understood and made the ordeal as straightforward as possible. 25 minutes later and with my food being carried in a box and my gear falling all around me, I was helped back to Tent 140 by one of the volunteers.  

Ian and Patrick were already back and I took on some water and lay down to rest with my feet up on my bag. It felt good until I began to think about the following day. This was broken by the cheeriness of Anj as she arrived back to the tent like Mary Poppins. "Time to get some food in boys, this is the golden hour"! We all know about the golden hour, eating within 60 minutes of finishing an endurance event but I pretended not to hear and told her I was not interested in a 'golden shower'. Ah the laughter...

Anj had once trialled to be a contender on Gladiators (the Saturday evening family show, not the adult movie Glad-I-Ate-Her) and had kicked and beaten her way through all the physical challenges but lost out on the tv interview as she didn't have an underdog back-story. She certainly had the can-do attitude, which was infectious when she got going.   

I was in no mood to dig out my stove, fuel tablets, lighter and pot so I went old school. I poured coldish water onto my Chicken Tikka and Patrick threw it up on the roof to warm in the sun. I managed to remove my gaiters, shoes, socks and calf guards and had a chat about the stage to the tent-mates. We were all a little annoyed about the additional 2km we had covered and we agreed it had been a tad hot. We did not find out until later that it had been 47 degrees.

To add to my woes, I added too much water to my dinner, so I made Chicken Tikka soup. I cut the end of one of my empty bottles to use as a bowl and devoured my soup followed by a few nuts. Alex and Rich also arrived back in good spirits, forcing me to minimise the space I was using in the tent and give poor Alex some space. This was a common occurrence when Alex would arrive back tired and I would be sprawled out across his sleeping area.

So for Stage 1 it was 7 out, 7 in for Tent 140. We knew we were fortunate and that for some, making the start line for Day 2 of the 29th MDS would be impossible. Anj and Sian had stopped to see if they could help one of the guys who we passed on the way in receiving treatment, things were not good and it made me wonder just how many more were out there in similar states. The organisers admitted that it had been one of the toughest opening stages they had ever put on, but that's what we had come for.

That evening I managed to send an email from the email tent (1 email to 1 email address only!) after a short queue and we received our emails to the tent. It was great to get some encouragement from back home and lifted the spirits after a long first day. 

A quick check of the day's results and I finished in 519th. Happy enough. Patrick (39) and Ian (48) were the tent speedsters, both in the top 200, with Patrick bringing it home first for the day. Not bad for auld lads!

All that was left to do was a quick inspection of the feet - a couple of small blisters, but nothing to write home about (or put in a blog), a change of top and get ready to sleep. It was out with my cut-in-half toothbrush (saved 7gs!) and my mini toothpaste before a quick glance of the Road Book for Stage 2, a 41km stage including our first ascent of a jebel (high sandy mountain pass). Another deep breath and off to sleep. Little did I know what was coming...

Road Book for Stage 1:

Maximum authorised time : 10.00
Km 0 : Go E/SE (course 117°) until km 3.
Km 2,2 : Pass through a small valley.
Km 3 : Enter dunes of Chebbi Erg. Take course 127° up to CP1.
Km 15 : CP1 at exit of dunes. Roughly follow oued to avoid vegetation.
General direction South (191°) up to km 21. Sandy with small dunes and camel grass.
Km 21 : Leave oued. Fairly stony, uneven plateau up to km 25. Go South (184°) until km 24.2.
Km 24,2 : Enter old village of M’Fiss. Rocky climb up to mines.
Km 25,8 : CP2 800 m after mines. Go South and cross a fairly hilly terrain to reach sandy passage in a jebel.
Km 27,2 : Sandy passage in jebel. Go S/SE (153°) to cross a stony valley and go up a small gorge.
Km 28,1 : Summit of small gorge, turn E/SE (126°) and cross a stony plateau.
Km 28,8 : Follow Roub’in Oud Oued, which descends the small gorge.
Km 30,2 : End of sandy oued.
Km 31 : Enter dunes of Znaïgui Erg. Go 134° (S/E) until bivouac.
Km 34 : B1 finish line.