Into the frying pan...Le Marathon des Sables 2000 by Corporate Raider
A competitor’s story
THE MARATHON DES SABLES - 15th EDITION - APRIL 2000
Comments in "Quotation marks" are copies of emails I sent back to the UK during the race utilising BT Syncordia Solutions Remote working capability
In April of 2000 I competed in the Marathon des Sables, a 150 mile footrace across the Sahara Desert to raise money for the Anthony Nolan Bone Marrow Trust. Many thanks to BT Syncordia Solutions, Tempus Group and Virgin Atlantic Airlines for their generous support and sponsorship.
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Arrival in Morocco - 6th April
Having been dropped off by my wife, Rebecca, at Gatwick airport I met up with the 120 other British competitors in the 15th Edition of the Marathon Des Sables, the 'Toughest Footrace on earth'. We flew into Ouarzazate on a chartered aircraft arranged by the UK agents for the race 'The Best of Morocco'.
“Well after months of planning I and 120 other British Runners have arrived in the Moroccan town of Ouarzazete. Everyone is now faced with the stark reality of what we have set out to do. The talk is totally focussed on the race ahead - 'What trainers have you got?', 'How heavy is your pack (Mine is 10KG)?', 'Are you injured?'. The esprit de corps is already building with runners who have only ever met one another virtually over the internet meeting in person for the first time.
We Drive out to the desert tomorrow. Allegedly a 6 hour hair raising experience due to the exuberance of the drivers. We’ll also learn of our route then.”
Arrival in the Desert
“We've finally arrived in the desert after a both terrifying (the drivers lived up to their reputation) and interesting day travelling across Morocco from Ouarzazete to, well, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. We've received our roadbook detailing the distances we will cover each day of the race. There are A LOT of sand dunes on the course that are making everyone nervous, particularly as the longest day, 76km, is at least 1 third dunes - not good. “
Make up of the week is as follows:
Day 1 28 km Stony ground and sand dunes
Day 2 34 km Stony ground and dry lake bed
Day 3 38 km Dry lake bed and then 22 km of permanent sand dunes
Day 4 76 km Very mixed terrain, stony ground, packed earth and sand dunes
Day 5 Rest This is a rest day or a finishing day for those still on the Day 4 course
Day 6 42 km Stony terrain, some sand
Day 7 18.5 km Mainly sandy tracks through villages to the finish
I’m in tent 64 with 8 other Brits. There’s myself, my mate John who is a Lloyds broker, Mark who’s an Engineer, Derek and Steve who both work in Telecomms hardware sales, Jackson who works for Reuters and finally Scott, Nigel and Rex - I've no idea what they do.
Scrutineering Day
“Scrutineering day! The organisers provided a fantastic dinner for all of the present competitors last night allowing runners to discuss the days ahead. I am pleased to say my tent, all Brits, was the last to bed. However, the 80 extremely late US runners arrived at the camp at 2am waking everyone as they wandered about shouting 'Where’s my goddamned tent!' - thanks guys! “
Their displeasure could be forgiven as the organisers had forgotten to put any tents up for them and they had had a nightmarish Journey getting to Morocco and then to the race start point involving the extremely expensive use of taxis as their coaches failed to arrive. To top all this Royal Air Maroc lost their luggage and as a result most of the US runners were identifiable during the race by the fact they had normal shirts or T-shirts on with ‘USA’ written on them in permanent marker pen.
“The sun’s out and at 8.30am its already getting hot. Today the organisers check our kit and take all our other personal items from us. Things get hard from here on in. Tomorrow is a 28km day including dunes. Next report will be after the second day of running. I hope I’m in decent enough shape to send it!”
Scrutineering, despite the gravest warnings about having all the correct calories in your food etc was extremely straight forward. The organisers took your personal items other than your race kit and threw it on the back of a lorry after baking it in the sun for three hours. I had a number of pens in my suitcase and was convinced all my clothes would look like they were tie dyed by the time I got them back a week later. Your race kit, rucksack, sleeping bag and food were then weighed and your compulsory kit items such as an anti venom pump checked. No problem.
A few years ago a 22 year old French runner died two miles into the race. He had a congenital heart defect and as a result runners now had to produce an ECG and a certificate from a Doctor stating your fitness to run. Many of the UK runners had had to spend a surprising amount of money getting ECGs and Medical Certificates organised privately. Fortunately for me my GP was more than happy to oblige and even signed off my ECG when it showed up as being abnormal. The abnormality being ‘normal’ for someone training for months for an event like this.
The French cardiologist who checked my ECG during scrutineering was happy enough with my medical notes but evidently decided that I looked a bit too enthusiastic as he told me no less than four times to take it easy on the first two days. It turned out to be good advice.
What a Scorcher!
“Phew! What a couple of days! The race started in earnest on Sunday with a 28km run across an absolutely scorching Sahara desert. None of my training had adequately prepared me for the heat so I took the first day very easy. Well kind of easy as I could not resist sprinting at the start and was one of the front runners for all of 200 yards of this stage.
One of my tent mates, Mark, actually lead the race for this period much to the bemusement of the elite European and Moroccan runners. If you’ve followed the race on the net we’re the red faced guys with (relatively) enormous rucksacks.
We were given water at the 10 and 20 km points and experienced for the first time the joy that is Dunes.....I managed to avoid blisters on the first day much to my relief despite going through the sand dunes. To protect my feet I am wearing Porelle Waterproof socks which despite being on the warm side meant that no sand got against the surface of my feet thus avoiding blisters on that first day. However at the end of day two this has all changed!
Today was a 34 km stage across good terrain. The temperature went up to 45°C and there was no shade at all to hide from the sun in. Running and walking in these kind of temperatures is indescribable and all of the western competitors are hoping we acclimatise adequately soon. My next report all being well will be in 2 days time after the dunes day (38km) and the non stop day (76km!). I’m off to cook my dinner - Mountain House dehydrated Chicken and Rice - Lovely!”
150 miles is a very long way to run in the best of conditions. I had managed some heat training before leaving the UK but not nearly enough to allow a rapid acclimatisation so I adopted a run/walk strategy for the first days, 5 minute walk/15 minute run and repeat. My ‘Tabbing’ (fast walking) speed is not that much slower than my long distance running speed so the time lost was minimal but meant that my level of exertion was fairly conservative. For this stage I ran with John and we were later joined by Jackson from our tent who was obviously suffering a bit in the heat. After 11.30 am the heat rapidly rose peaking at about 1pm and staying that hot until about 3pm. My feet swelled filling my trainers (which were 1.5 sizes too big to deal with this eventuality) as did my hands. My fingers resembled sausages and prevented me from clenching my fists. Most unpleasant. I had intended to leave my wedding ring back in the UK as it is quite loose and I did not want to lose it. As it happens I completely forgot about it and what with the heat I would have had to sever a finger to get it off anyway.
I completed the stage in 4 hr 20 mins coming in in 343 position.
The day 2 stage was 38 km. It’s worth mentioning a bit of the morning routine. The soon dubbed 'Tent Nazis' (local Bedouins who set up and struck camp for each stage of the race) would turn up at 6am and dismantle your tent around you if you weren’t out of it. However, you didn’t start racing until after 9am most days. This gave you time to cook breakfast. I had to have a caffeine fix so mine involved coffee and a microscopic portion of Jordan's Luxury Breakfast crunch cereal followed by a litre of PSP Carbo drink. Most of my calories were in the form of powdered energy drinks. You would then pack your bags and chat with the other competitors whilst consuming whatever remains of the previous nights 4.5 litre water ration. Being completely hydrated at the beginning of each day was vital and the best test for this was if your urine was clear you were fine. I didn’t have any problem with this as on every stage of the race I would invariably have to stop 20 minutes after the start and relieve myself whilst numerous competitors passed me by.
The terrain for this stage was excellent and John and I, again joined by Jackson, pushed the pace a bit. At the end of the stage (getting in just short of 5 hours) we had improved our position and I had developed a nice pair of blisters on my heals – not ideal. I sorted my blisters out myself applying antiseptic spray, Compeed and Zinc Oxide Tape. I avoided the French medical team for the start as they were a bit to liberal with the use of a scalpel for my liking.
Dunes Day
Today saw the establishment of a morning ritual that would continue for the duration of the race. My tent was next to the two Japanese tents. At 6 am every morning one of the Japanese competitors would burst into song:
To the tune of ‘Happy Birthday to you’
“Good morning Sa-Ha-Ra,, Good morning Sa-Ha-Ra, Good morning, good morning, good morning Sa-Ha-Ra!”
By the end of the week we were all singing it.
Dunes day was 37 km, 22km of which were the El Rhoual Erg during which time we would not get any extra Water with than the three litres we got at the start of the Erg. To protect my feet from the sand I was wearing Porelle Dry Waterproof socks. These were great at preventing sand getting against the surface of your feet but did not prevent your trainers filling with sand making your foot swelling all the more problematic. If I was going to be in Dunes all day I needed to sort some form of gaiters out. I fashioned some by putting my trainer shod foot the wrong way through my Ron Hill Running Tights up to about mid calf. I then cut the Ron Hills off just past where my toes were and tied them with string effectively making a bag for each of my feet out of my trouser legs. Considering the distance we covered in the dunes these worked remarkably well and hardly any sand got in.
As this would be a very long hot day I decided not to run at all but to Tab the whole way. As a result John and I were way down the field up until about midday when we finally got to the dunes. A quick check of our kit and an interview with a US Journalist later we were into the dunes proper. We noticed immediately we were overtaking people, lots of them. Both of us decided to ration our water based on the assumption it would take us 4.5 hours to cross the dunes. 1.5 Litres for the first half, 1.5 litres for the second half. The first two hours (and first bottle of water) went very quickly and we made excellent progress passing loads of people who had run past us earlier in the day. Very satisfying!
Three hours into the dunes I knew that I was in trouble as I could feel my temperature rise every time I climbed a dune. The feeling was not pleasant at all and for the next hour and a half I felt as though I were on the point of passing out at any moment. Rather than wasting water pouring it over my head I drank every drop and just hoped that I would sweat enough to keep my core temperature in the ‘conscious’ zone! The dunes went on and on and on. The moment you crested a dune all you could see all the way to the horizon was more Dunes. Unless you wanted to quit the only option was to keep going, I had no intention of quitting. This was not true of everyone however and for the first time people started to fire their distress flares requesting rescue. Half a dozen went off in the space of 15 minutes and the race helicopter started what was to become a taxi service ferrying competitors back to the Race medical team for treatment.
Too my surprise and despite feeling awful we were still overtaking people and I don’t think we were actually overtaken at all during the Dunes. John was in good form and planning routes that went over new sand rather than following the churned up tracks of previous competitors in a sheep like fashion. This paid dividends, at one point we overtook 10 Italians in this way, one minute they were 20 metres in front the next we had passed them by and didn’t see them for the rest of the stage.
The Dunes stage actually had a false finish and this was to be the undoing of many competitors. Because of the heat an extra control point was put in place at the end of the Erg where you would receive a measly 500ml of water to see you through the last 3 km to the end of the stage. However some 4 km before you reached the extra control point a French group had set up a retreat in the desert using tents that were similar to the race organisers. Seeing this many runners gulped the last of their water thinking they were about to get more only to learn they had another 4 km to go. A number of runners dropped out on those last 4km, some less than 1km from the extra control point.
We eventually made it to the finish in 7 hours 20 minutes sprinting the last 200 yards to whoops of approval from the French Race Officials as we passed another couple of Italians. Returning to our Tent only Mark had got in before us, everyone else was still out on the course. As darkness fell Derek, Steve, Nigel and Scott completed the stage and we learnt that Jackson had had to be airlifted out midway through the Dunes when he ran out of water. Knowing he had at least two hours of Dunes left to go and having no water he made the decision to pull out, catching a lift with the helicopter as it evacuated a US runner who had passed out clambering down a Dune. Jackson made a sensible decision in the circumstances and although he put a brave face on it you could tell he was bitterly disappointed. Two days later he was back in the UK. He's going back for the 2002 race.
Hours seemed to drag by and Rex was still out on the course. He eventually got finished in just short of twelve hours, ate a meal and immediately went to sleep.
Within an hour of getting back into camp I was feeling much better having done all my personal admin (quaffing two rehydrate powders, sorted out my feet, washed and cooked some food etc). That evening, as was our habit, John, Mark and myself and joined by some of our neighbours, a blind runner Jamie and his guide Roraigh, and two members of the Royal Engineering Ladies Team, Tessa and Katie enjoyed hot chocolate heated on a fire made of twigs and drank out of hacked up plastic water bottles. Surprisingly few competitors seemed to capitalise on the fact that they were in the Sahara and actually spend some time appreciating where they were, most were snoring as soon as it got dark.
Leg 4 – The Non-Stop Day
This is the stage that makes or breaks your race. 76km, basically two marathons back to back, with a maximum time limit of 40 hours to complete it in. Actually 40 hours is pretty generous and allows you to sleep in the middle of the stage if you wish finishing the next day. John and I intended to go through in one push with a target finishing time of 14 .5 hours. Achievable if we sustained the pace of the Dunes day.
As we woke to the dawn chorus of ‘Good Morning Sa-Ha-Ra’ a sandstorm was blowing and had been for a goodly part of the night. Using whatever shelter we could find we cooked breakfast and then sheltered from the sand blasting as best we could. Again the Japanese came to our rescue adding a bit of humour to what would undoubtedly be a grim day. Each competitor was given a ration of 9.5 litres of water a day. Generally 1.5 litres in the morning, 1.5 litres for each 10km of the course in the day and a further 4.5 litres on returning to camp. Each bottle was marked with your race number and losing or dumping a bottle in anything but one of the provided rubbish bags carried with it a hefty 30 minute penalty. Lose a bottle or even it’s cap and it could cost you 40 hard won places so you did not want to lose one. A Japanese competitor, dressed in an all white Tyvek lightweight boiler suit put down an empty plastic bottle and in the high wind it immediately flew away. Doubtless with a penalty in mind he gave chase sprinting a full 200 metres and making numerous unsuccessful attempts to stamp on the fleeing bottle. Laughter rose up from the British and US contingent and we witnessed the chase and everyone applauded as he successfully caught the bottle and celebrated his victory with a series of high kicks, punches and chops.
John had picked up a good crop of blisters on the dunes day and was moving very gingerly on his feet at the start of the stage. Generally your brain gets bored of repeat pain signals so after about 20 minutes of walking (running was out of the question at the time) your feet would just become a dull ache and you could move at some speed. An hour into the stage I knew there was something wrong with John as he was moving very slowly and if anything slowing down. Clearly more was wrong than just his feet. For starters he wasn’t talking (very unlike him!), he was weaving about as he walked and basically just lacked his normal spirit. We didn’t stop at Control 1 as there wasn’t any shade although I did manage to have a blister dressed but it took us 5 hours in total to get to Control 2 at the 21km mark. We were travelling at less than a third of our normal speed and John was now in a bad way. Fortunately there was some shade at C2 and John and I agreed that he would rest up there, get his feet seen too and see how he recovered. I however was still keen to finish in one push so I would go on alone. As I left I was convinced John would be out of the race – short of a miracle recovery.
By the fourth day of the race I was really sick of Sports drink and had all but stopped using it. I managed to cover the next 20 km in 2 hours 20 minutes and then hit a major low as, as I now realise, my blood sugar levels plummeted and I didn’t replace it with anything. It was dark as I got into Control 4 (having spent all of 5 minutes at Control 3) and I was feeling pretty awful as the previous 10km had been through soft sand and this had set my feet off again making every step a mini agony. I was not happy and had decided when the race was over I was never going to exercise again, I was going to put my feet up, eat Ice Cream and watch Eastenders (including the omnibus edition).
Getting into the Control I cooked a meal, had some rehydrate and emptied out my shoes as well as having some 400mg Ibuprofen. 20 minutes later I was feeling great and seeing Jamie and Roraigh arrive arranged to carry on with them. We set off and I was very impressed at the rapport the two had and the speed at which they could move despite Jamie not being able to see where he was walking. We soon caught up with the rest of their team, ‘Desert Bats for Sightsavers International’, and walked through a fantastic Casbah at about the 50km point. The locals had placed candles along the walls and sat in their doorways watching the competitors go by. I was now raring to go so leaving Jamie and Roraigh with the rest of their team I sped up and continued on with a Medical Student, Peter and Nick, one of the members of the 1 Para team.
We made excellent time to Control 5 where we met Denise Wooley, one of the UK liaison people for the race. Denise had been at Control 2 when John and I arrived. I was pleased to hear that after I left John had stayed there for two hours and was demanding more water from the race officials. They refused to give him any so he was then demanding his ‘free’ IV Drip. During the race you are allowed one IV drip if necessary. If you have two you are disqualified. The fact he was demanding anything was a vast improvement on the meek and mild chap I’d left earlier and I was now reassured he was still in the race.
Somewhere between Control 5 and 6 I left Peter and Nick behind and started running covering 5km very quickly. By now it was 2am and a half moon was lighting the way (I hardly used my head torch at all). I caught up with a German runner, Iro Herrmann, who is a Doctor from Cologne who treats Arthritis with radioactive Isotopes (I didn’t go too near him), and we ended up completing the stage together in 17 hrs 30 mins after hardly pausing at the final control, a mere 6 km from the finish.
One of the great things about the race is that you meet people from all over the world, all with the same purpose and all willing to help each other of they can. The spirit in the camp, when total strangers greet you and applaud at the end of each stage is, was one of the best qualities of the race and one of the main reasons why I would consider doing it again – despite my dark thoughts about Eastenders during this stage!
Getting back to the tent I checked my feet and found I had two blisters the size of old 50 pence pieces on the insides of both heels, heelstrike blisters, my toenail on my big toe had broken at the quick and was about to come off and that one of other my toenails was sitting on top of a huge blister. After wiping down my feet with some baby wipes I blasted them with Savlon Dry, put on clean socks and went to sleep. Out of my tent Mark and Steve and finished before me but I learnt that Derek and Rex, both injured and exhausted from their efforts during the Dunes had been forced to drop out early in the day. They had both decided to stay with the tent though and encourage the rest of us as we continued on.
John rolled in at 7.30 am having covered the last 3 km in his flip-flops! He was obviously very pleased with himself although dead on his wrecked feet. After having some food he lapsed into sleep.
The ‘Rest’ Day
Hmmm, a day of rest, well kind of. Having arrived at 3.30 am my dreams of a nice lie in undisturbed by the tent Nazis were dashed. One, John arrived, and two, so did the Sun!
Water was pretty plentiful for this day as we were not running so our usage was going to be conservative. I was going to use some of it to have a shower and generally clean up. A ‘Shower’ in the desert generally meant walking as far from the camp as your feet and modesty allowed or demanded, stripping naked and trying to have an all over wash with half a litre of water. I’d managed at the end of the second day which was even by then very welcome, I would not get the chance today.
We had had sandstorms every day of the event but from mid morning during the rest day it was unrelenting. All we could do was lie in our open sided tents, sunglasses and MdS Buff headovers covering our faces and slowly get buried in sand that was as fine as talcum powder. It was good having a rest but the sand made it grim and by the end of the day every bit of clothing and kit was impregnated with sand.
During the day a steady stream of competitors arrived who had decided to camp out at one of the control points on the course. It was impressive to see how they struggled on despite many of them having horrendous blisters or other injuries. During the day Nigel and Scott arrived bringing our tent back to it’s full complement. Scott’s feet were a total mess and he soon went off to the Medical tent to have them looked at. He didn’t return for hours and when he did he was driven back in a race Land Rover, ashen faced and moving incredibly slowly. His feet were in such a state that he had a team of Doctors dealing with them who had cut most of the skin off his toes and heels as they had become infected. The French medical team told Scott he should pull out of the race but he wouldn’t have any of it. They therefore gave him some painkillers that would numb a horse – hopefully this would allow him to finish. His feet will take weeks to heal though.
Leg 5 – Marathon Stage
Having not run at all on the rest day it came as something of a surprise to actually start moving about again. Bizarrely it was less painful to run than it was to walk as this moved the pressure points on your feet. Jogging at the start with John amidst the mass of other runners I was getting into my pace when I looked around and noticed he had vanished. I subsequently learnt that he had taken a wide route to avoid all the other runners. Jogging on I soon caught up with Steve from my tent and we ran on together covering the first 22km quickly and then reverting to a run/walk strategy during the midday heat. Steve was feeling strong even during the heat of the day so he ran on while I continued to run/walk on alone.
This stage was primarily on rocky ground with occasional ‘dunettes’ along the way. I read before I came to this race that as each day of the race goes by you feel stronger and stronger. Having now done it myself I have to say this is entirely true. A full marathon seemed to be nothing at all. This stage was pretty uneventful and I finished the stage (and in so doing set my only officially timed marathon pb) in 5 hours 58 minutes. For the last few kilometres of the stage I raced with Jean-Christophe Comte and we managed to have a conversation despite neither of us speaking the others language particularly well. In keeping with the spirit of the race we finished the stage together sprinting the last 200 meters and crossing the line holding hands and screaming at the top of our voices!
When I finished the stage I realised that I had cracked it. I was going to finish this race, one that I had put months of training and effort into. It had been such a long haul to get there and had put a fair measure of strain on not only me but on my wife Rebecca as well that failure would have been terrible. I no longer had to worry - I had done it bar the finishing. Walking back to the tent I was grinning from ear to ear when a German runner seeing me walking by stepped out of his tent, put out his hand for a 'high 5' - which I duly delivered - before smiling and returning to his tent. It's spirit like that that makes the race what it is.
I got back to the tent to find that Steve and Mark had both finished and were chatting with Rex and Derek. After deciding that I had better get my handholding with Frenchmen out into the open as soon as possible they dutifully took the mickey out of me. After which Mark admitted he had done exactly the same thing on the long day - and kept it quiet!
John arrived about 30 odd minutes after me and still in good form followed by the rest of the Lads from the tent.
The Finish
One aspect of the Marathon Des Sables is that the race camp is crawling with journalists of both TV and Print varieties. It was to the bemusement of one of the former that tent 64 gleefully tucked into their stores of Ibuprofen exactly one hour before the race started on the last day.
I had finally cracked under the strain of an unending diet of PSP sports drink and refused to drink mine on the last morning meaning to finish this race on my stores of energy and what little fat I had left on me (all the runners looked a bit scraggy at this point) - I was soon to learn this was a poor decision. A meagre breakfast and some Ibuprofen meant that I was ready to go in time for my group start. The start time of the race had been split into three groups - the slow and walking wounded, the middle packers (me included) and the elite racing snake types.
The start of this final leg, a mere 18km, was the usual chaos particularly as we had been hanging around for ages posing for a picture to go into the official race book. I ran with Steve from the start as John had opted to take it easy due to his shattered feet and a knee injury he picked up on the Long day. Running through to the halfway point hundreds of school children lined our route as we ran through villages cheering and clapping as we went by. By the 10 km mark Steve and I had shifted along at a good pace but I started to feel somewhat fatigued. Steve and I agreed he would push on while I walked for a bit and drank some water encouraging other competitors as either they passed me or I passed them. About three km's from the finish my brain finally registered that I was, in running parlance, 'bonking'. I had run out of energy and desperately needed food. I emptied all my pockets from my rucksack unearthing a mixed bag of banana chips, ginger, Bombay mix and a sesame seed bar that I scoffed in a matter of seconds before washing it all down with my PSP polluted water from one of my bottles. Suitably energised (probably more mentally than physically) I felt able to run on and took the trouble to enjoy the last few minutes of the race rather than just wishing it away.
Coming out of the final village I saw the finish banner across a field, the route lined with kids begging equipment from the runners as they approached the line. I gladly handed over one of my PSP polluted water bottles to a child before jogging into the finish. A funnel of spectators lined the final 100 metres of the race and I had just got to them when I heard
'COME ON CHRISTIAN!! SPRINT FINISH!!!!'
Mark and Steve, both of whom had already finished, as well as Derek were yelling at me from by the finish line. It was a challenge that could not be ignored and for the first time since the very start of the race I ran at full speed to the end of 150 torturous miles. Crossing the line I closed my eyes and exulted at completing this race before turning round, arms aloft and grinning at my fellow tent mates. Derek got a picture - it's my favourite from the entire race and is now on the wall in my study as I write this. I had finished the race in 42 hours 33 minutes and 40 seconds coming in 283 place.
Picking up my finishers medal, a clean T-shirt and a bottle of water as well as getting a congratulatory kiss on both cheeks from Patrick Bauer, the race founder and organiser, I joined my tent mates and the Royal Engineering Ladies Team to wait for the rest of our tent and Jamie and Roraigh, the blind runner and his guide to finish.
John arrived shortly after I did and soon joined us obviously ecstatic at having completed the race.
The aftermath
The next two days before returning to the UK in some ways the best and worse of the entire race experience.
They were poor in so far as we (that is the Brits) ended up in the worst Hotel in Quarzazate and the 'Gala' dinner the day after the race finished was a farce of planetary proportions. However, the partying was goooooooodddddd!!! The Brits invaded the bar at the best Hotel in Ouarzazate (ousting the French who were staying there) and proceeded to empty the place of every alcoholic beverage in sight. Tent 64 partied until the early hours of the morning – a fitting celebration of the end of an extraordinary week.
If you are interested in competing in this race...
Then firstly get your head examined and then check out the following site.
Official MdS Site (UK)
visit the website here
What’s Next?
There is a nice 130-mile non-stop race in Alaska. Minus 40 degrees C, snow, ice and frostbite………lovely.
Posted by: Admin on Nov 03, 03 | 2:42 pm |
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