One year ago, Ian Greasby walked across the desert. Now he wants you to join him after reading this article
We will be setting off across the mighty Sharqiya Sands on foot, in the middle of the night, on a 70-something kilometer walk from
Al Kamil in the east to the far side of the dunes in the west. We have no idea if we’ll make it, we’ve done no real training, and all of a
sudden panic stations are setting in. What on earth have we let
ourselves in for?
Building a team
I have crossed the Sharqiya Sands on my motorbike many times. I’ve also done it in a car. But not yet by foot. Last January, in my effort to raise money for charity, hiking across the desert seemed a good idea, but everyone thought it was a crazy thing to do.
Just as time was running out and it looked like the project was going to be scrapped I received a call from my biking friend Dick Danielson, who had previously so nobly pledged “I’ll give you some car support, but I’m not walking a step.�Dick proudly announced “I’ve found you a partner �my wife!�So there it was: Kathy and I would walk the 70-something kilometres from east to west, with support team Dick, his two sons Nikolas and Kristian, their dog Rocky and friend Fiona.
Preparation
I spent a couple of weekends on my motorbike making very detailed GPS tracks into and out of the sands from Mintrib. This would enable the car to safely drive north to south (the easy routes) at night to pre-arranged GPS waypoints, and meet us with food and water. I also walked once round Bausher, and regretted it, because it nearly killed me �but it was too late for bottling out now. Kathy’s preparation included talking about it to people, and basking in innocence. “No worries�she said, “it’s a walk in the park.�Big park Kathy,
but alright.
For safety we carried two GPS units and plenty of batteries, a satellite phone, three-litre water hydration systems, compass, space blankets, dates and dried fruit, chocolate, muesli bars, energy drinks and sunglasses, hats, camera and torch.
We also had a designated ‘journey manager�in Muscat, our friend Scott Shankland, who had with him all the Thuraya satellite phone numbers, GPS routes and emergency plans, should something
go wrong.
Leg 1: 6:30pm-1am, 26km and 6.5 hours
Setting off from Al Kamil at 6:30pm, the first 13km were fairly easy, along a dark and dusty graded road. It was eerie. Plenty of people stopped to offer us a lift, ask us where we were heading, and where our broken down car was. We smiled, waved, uttered words poorly resembling ‘Maafi mushkila�and waved as they drove away puzzled, scratching their heads wondering what we were doing.
The desert became quiet and cold. Temperatures were down to 16ºC. We reached the end of the graded road at 9pm: our support team was there with some cheese sandwiches and a change of footwear. On went the sand walking boots, an extra layer of T-shirts and we were off for the real start of the dunes.
I can say it now: I was scared. I felt very responsible. Here I was heading into the desert in the middle of the night, into probably the toughest section of dunes, with one of my best friend’s wives, with no preparation, just gung-ho confidence and a taste for challenge. It had all been my idea and I questioned myself many times.
Experiencing the desert
After only 7km I knew we would make the whole walk. It wasn’t scary, it was beautiful. It was peaceful; the ambiance invigorating, romantic even. The stars were so bright. We focused on what we thought was Mars. It was a slight orangy colour and was in exactly the direction we were heading. It would guide us all night, one of the last stars to stay awake as others went off. It was our friend and we hoped it would be there again the next night.
There were no other sounds. All we could see were silhouettes of the dunes with our wide angled dim torch lights. We walked with one torch to save on batteries, just in case. One was enough. There was no danger, no animals to see or make us jump. The dunes were actually quite firm underfoot, and we could easily pick our way through them avoiding the high peaks.
Those last couple of kilometres were fantastic. The anticipation of meeting our friends was incredible. Would they be there? What if they weren’t? It helped us across. 70km is daunting but split up into small legs was making it easier. As we counted the kilometres down on the GPS our morale rose.
We’d estimated 2km per hour for walking which meant 4am at our rendezvous point �we were easily going to beat that. In fact we were there at 1am: 26km in total in 6.5 hours.
We took a cautious celebratory drink, tucked into chicken, crisps and chocolate, shared a few stories and went to bed under the stars by 2am. It was 12ºC on this January night.
Leg 2: 8am-4:30pm, 21km in 6 hours
We wake up at 6:30am, soaking in dew. My legs are fine. Everything is good. Thanks to Sean who lent me his knee supports. They’ve done the trick. After a breakfast of orange juice, muesli and coffee, we’re off by 8am �and we’d walk all day. We had a 20km walk planned, to break the back of the assault, before the final big hurdle to the finish. The 20km would be broken into 10km before lunch and 10km after. Day walking was expected to be tougher due to heat, but was new for us, and stopped the monotony of night walking. The views were splendid, the air fresh and, amazingly, the 10km went like a breeze.
We sailed along and passed a Bedouin camp which had what looked like a GSM antenna. The phone beeped and a message was received. It was Dick telling us they had only left camp at 10:30am due to everything being soaked. With a 1.5 hour drive ahead of them we could see we would arrive first. We did. 11:15am and we were there. No problem, we’d wait, of course, for mobile Spaghetti Bolognaise, cold drinks and kite flying with the boys. Life doesn’t get much better than this. I took off the knee supports and changed my boots. Just for a change, again. Breaking the monotony made us feel the walk was shorter.
Conversation skills
Kathy clearly didn’t trust my conversational skills. Maybe she had been warned by her husband �my long suffering bike partner. Since weight was an issue, nothing unnecessary went into the backpack, except Kathy’s i-Pod. I am proud to say it never made a single appearance.
We did have the carrot and stick games we played to spur us along. For instance, Kathy proclaimed she would down her isotonic energy drink at exactly half way. This would give us an enforced rest to get the drink out, yet set a goal to keep us moving. As we approached I would keep quiet and not tell her the distance. When asked what the next dune was called, she’d figure it out: “Ha ha, its Isostar hill.�Yes �we were half way!
With only 4km to go until the next meeting point I would
proclaim that at 2km I would take out my GSM and put it in my pocket, just to see if we had a signal. Madness, but it kept us going, and gave us a new goal. “Next downhill dune and I’m emptying my shoes,�was a common one to help us up the steep ones.
Leg 3: 4am-12pm, 23km in eight hours
After walking 47km in less than 24 hours, we’re down to the final stage. This is what we’d come for, and this is what we’ll remember. The first few kilometres in the dark were fine. Mars had re-appeared, but was not really showing us the right way and then he disappeared anyway. Dumped, we chose two new stars.
The dunes were getting much bigger. Easy in a car or bike, they proved killers by foot. Much softer and with no real way through. We just had to go straight over them. No mercy. As we dropped into the valleys the cold was bitter, and we were glad we had two layers on.
As the sun came out, the views became intense. The mist was lingering in the valleys between big dune formations. The sun
was not showing, but its long, deep red rays penetrated into the
pink sand.
For me this was special. So many times have I blasted across these very same dunes, racing on my bike, loving the thrill and the exhilaration of speed. Nothing beats this and I will continue to love this passion of mine, yet I have been missing these views and
sensations all the while. For once I had time to take it all in. This is why you should walk it, for this reason only. I remembered my youth when I was walking most weekends with my father in the Peak District of the UK. Walking is sedate compared to motor biking and 4x4 driving, but you see, smell and feel more. Walk the Sharqiya and you will understand.
The last few kilometres and those long flat plains that we had been looking forward to so much had taken their toll. After so much sand the hard packed sabkha flats had jolted our knees and impacted our heels. We’d had enough. We were tired, weary, elated. Just as we came down off the last dune the support crew arrived, doing an enormous celebratory circle in the sand. The shoes were emptied for the final time, the knee pads torn off, cycling shorts supporting the tired thighs packed away in our bags. On went clean clothes, out came the kites again �we’d finally finished.
Number crunching
We covered 70km as the crow flies, around 80km in all, in just under 19 hours or walking. We averaged, according to the GPS, 3.9kmph. Not exactly steaming along, but that’s the trick: walk slowly, even plod. Take in the sights and enjoy.
All waypoints are using UTM grid with WGS84 datum:
Start at Al Kamil petrol station
40 Q 726265 2459188
Sleep, first night
40 Q 701014 2459145
Sleep, second night
40 Q 682363 2461786
Finish
40 Q 660686 2467830
Calling for Entries: Desert walk, March 2006
Ian Greasby is organising a repeat of the walk you read about here on March 14, 15 and 16, 2006. If you’re up for it, and have a partner who’d like to join, get in touch with Oman Today at pinaki@apexstuff.com or 24 799388
)
)
