Last week I arrived in Urumqi, China to cap off a year of training and meditation. I struggled with a foreign language and hammered through cultural adaptation as I worked to get my lost bag through customs... barely missing a bus ride that would take me and 160 other like-minded souls out into the desert.

And in that desert we walked/ran/climbed through 250km of some beautiful country... along the Old Silk Road, through the Turpan Basin, and among fields of some of China's most restricted areas. There we saw Chinese military training ops, unrelenting lead mining operations, and 120 degree days with not a sign of animal life. But what we mostly remember encountering were mountains, rivers, green oases among stark dirt landscapes, golden dunes, and beautiful, beautiful rooted people living their simple lives within a rapidly changing political, economic, and environmental landscape.

This event was part of the 4deserts.com series of world acclaimed endurance races, and somehow... among the world's finest ultra-endurance athletes... many of us were were able to complete the distance with the help and support of the amazing competitors and staff out there with us, the love and encouragement of my friends and family back home, and the strength God gave me to walk in honor of my friend Stan in Zambia.

After dedicating this tiny fraction of my life to support the AIDS/TB struggle in the third world, it seems like a dream that this small chapter is over. The good news is the will to help those struggling with poverty and disease (the two sides of the self sustaining third-world coin) becomes life long quite easily... and the Gobi March is just the beginning.

Sadly, as most folks know by this point, Nick Cruse passed away while participating in this race.  He shared a tent with 7 of us, and will always be remembered very fondly.  I don't feel right saying much more in this particular forum, but rest in peace Nick.  You're a good man.

Thanks for all the support from EVERYONE. Please keep checking the website and blog for updates on where this path leads next.

God bless you

Dan

The Long Day
 
We've gotten used to the constant dirt here.  All over our bodies... in our nostrils, caked along with dry blood... in our food... smeared into our blisters... tent floors... shoes... socks...
 
We've pretty much learned to manage the urgent matters and leave decency and niceties aside.  Half of us have infected cuts from crossing a medical waste river on the first leg of the long day.  I'm not even going to get my new blisters checked for fear of being demotivated by that kind of news.  The river did give me some pretty good foot rot, which I didn't even discover until I peeled off my slimy socks at mile 27...
 
The sand dunes over the last 5 miles were absolutely the hottest, slowest terrain I've ever drug my tired heap across... the Turpan Basin in the middle of the course was hot and miserable, but some cloud cover took away the searing sun after two hours of baking... that 40 miles of basin was a mental exercise... half of it done on moonless night... step after step of nothing but crunchy sand and the occasional rock to roll an ankle on
 
When I came in close to last, people said.. "wow, he's serious about this walking thing"
 
I never dehydrated or became heat exhausted... wearing twice as many layers as most but carrying much more water
 
Reptiles' eyes shine orange against headlamps... it's spooky until you realize it's your only company for hours
 
After running for three miles, I realized I was out of water and losing momentum while the next supposed checkpoint was not coming up when it was supposed to... a kid driving his sisters in a motor-trike stopped and must have seen the despair... he pointed at his pickup bed and I was happy to hop in.  He got me to the checkpoint so I could report yet another dehydrated racer (there were lots today)... I gave the kid a 100... you get the best looks in people's eyes when you do stuff like that.
 
I got lost in the desert with two other fellas... the trail markers having been stolen by neighborhood kids.  One of them lost his temper and stormed off back to our checkpoint of origin... two clicks behind us.  The other fella and I sat down by our bags.  Five minutes later, we decided that was a horrible idea, so we left the bags for our friend to find and walked a few hundred yards into a small vineyard to cool off... before settling in some kids showed up and started eyeing our gear... I walked back out to them, called them over, and showed them the last good trail marker... through some miracle of international amateur sign language, I convinced them to fan out and find us the trail... five minutes later they were yelling from the horizon with a similar trail marker... they got granola bars for that one!  More great looks in people's eyes
 
I rolled into the mile 48 checkpoint at 6 in the morning. I lay down to elevate my numb feet and woke up 2 hours later.  Whoops. The sunrise which woke me told me I was in for a long, hot end of the stage... I didn't get in until late this afternoon
 
Dunes, river bed, trails, shale, asphalt, salt flats... 4 miles through Turpan village... thousands of kids, thousands of high fives.  The long night... people finding each other in this endurance and racing together... and helping each other out.  I still can't feel anything form the knees down.  Gonna tape whatever I can and limp through the final stage tomorrow.  And then it's done
 
And I couldn't feel anymore honored and privileged to do it for ya Stan.
 
Lesa Akupale
Dan

Stage 4 (Day 4)
 
Today we climbed something called the Flaming Mountain.  8 people dropped out... 1 went to the hospital.  Keep them in your prayers please.  One of them I spent half an hour trying to rehydrate in a shady canyon until leaving him with someone else so I could go find help.
 
The staff here has shown the utmost urgency and responsibility dealing with injuries and heat out here.  Not even Death Valley could have prepared me for the searing environment we slowly dragged through today.  We were up to our ankles in sand for about 8 miles of it, all the way up the "mountain" and through some branching canyons which trapped and intensified the dry, stale air... the rescue efforts went on for 6 hours this evening (the temp is still in the 90s as I write this).  Doctors toting IV bags were sprinting all over the desert, through some areas even inaccessible to "rescue" camels.  Liz and Allison, this so would have been you... these staff members might as well been participants.  Amazing
 
Glenn, the small slots today reminded me of that hike we got half lost on through Death Valley... the one with the Borax mineshafts.  We're staying in an "ancient" temple called Uigher (built 3 years ago).  They did  a great job (or the weather did) of making everything look old.  I guess the Chinese build these tourist traps to create work for the meanial labor class.  The squat toilets are made for 6, not for 160.  I'd rather hoof it back out to the sand to get "ready" for tomorrow.
 
There is certainly nervousness in the air.  100 clicks (99, but I HAVE to walk an extra one after the finish line just to say I did the century) through the lowest dry place on the planet.  Awesome.
 
I've seen so much friendship and so much love expressed out here it's really encouraged me to go on.  Between the rescues at the end of the day and the constant support (and water.. and contraband snacks) we give each other, it's great to see folks drop their identities and just be caring human beings.  Think if the motivation of the toughest footrace in the world wasn't what it took to move people to give without strings.  Well, there's a ministry in Zambia that does that without a second thought with every penny they can put to it.  And that's why I'm here.
 
So tonight I sleep under the stars and pray for all of you my friends and family, that you are well, that your week has been productive, and that you are keeping your dreams in sight.  Hopefully I make it out of the Oven by Friday...
 
Cheers!
Dan

We're staying with the locals tonight!  I'm sleeping out in the courtyard to keep cool, but they've provided us space in their rooms.  It is such a nice gesture, and although it was all prearranged by the race staff, it shows big heart out here in boondocks Gobi.
 
We haven't had a scorcher out here yet.  Today was probably the last day of the wet weather.  It afforded us a great river wash break at the end of town.  We're racking out pretty soon to catch a 3am bus to the next course.  It's rumored they surveyed out a beautiful route tomorrow.  Looking forward to whatever torture the clear skies bring down!
 
I haven't seen any snakes yet... sorrry JB/Mike/Rav.  When I do everyone within shouting distance will definitely know, and I'll get penalized for going 50 yards off course
 
Have a good one
Dan

Last night was a little more peaceful of a rest than our first cold night.  Fatigue weighed into 99 percent of that.  The other one percent was due to the new "legs up on the pack" snoozing strategy.  Most of us are carrying super lightweight (as in worthless) mats, so getting used to camping on rocks has a comfort curve of a few days.
 
Thanks for the emails and comments!  I do get those.  We type these entries into some pretty slick netbooks before bed and and the techie squad beams them up to Skynet every night. I'll get to experiment with loading Linux onto an Asus netbook when I get back.  Plan is to get it to Zambia to be an electronic medical and accounting log for Stan's patients.  Hopefully it will be virus-proof and super user-friendly.
 
We left the bowl (Kazak Pasture) this morning at 9am.  China is all on one time zone, so out here in "the West" it felt more like a 7 oclock start.  That also means the sun doesn't set until 10 in the evening.  The 18-miler today returned us to crossing ridges to get out of the bowl; then after 6 miles of sine waves, it dumped us into a riverbank.  The rest of the day was flat trekking through rocky and watery terrain... with one river crossing. Most people had an easier time than Stage 1.  I am feeling pretty ducky all things considered.  It took me an average of almost 7 hours to do 20 flat miles back home, and today's stroll got knocked out in 5 and a half.  The diehards tell me we're just getting more limber as we go along.  I am just grateful it's been a cozy day and the hotspots are minor.
 
All confidence aside, tomorrow's 20-miler could crush all of us
 
Didn't see any snipers but villagers were abundant.  After a gorgeous walk along the riverbank, we ended up in the mouth of a grass canyon (Daheyan), and my tent is right next to an ancient burial ground.  Great.
 
I already told you about the three spies (without whom myself and my gear would have never made it to the start line).  My tent is full of awesome folks as well.  Across from me is a computer programmer based in Shangai who makes iPhone apps for large companies.  He also has an in with the best tea farmers on the planet, and has promised to send me samples.  I've never had gourmet tea (Tazo doesn't count), so this prospect excites me very much.  Next to him is a firefighter from Raleigh (and next to me is his friend, a fellow fireman).  They each have 30 lb backpacking rucks and are proud that they are eating 2 pounds of junk food a day on these trails.  Down the line is an aerospace engineer who previously did R&D for his Air Force (crazy), and now works on the Airbus 380 production line.  One fella is a Canadian dentist who has run five of these races and is going for the full house this year (Atacama, Gobi, Sahahra, Australia, Antarctica).  The last two are a couple Canadian doctors who run 4-5 marathons a year, and their advice has become very accepted among us.
 
One of the neat things about this get together is this incredible variety of human beings.  There are about 180 folks out here from 30 countries, and we're all here for different reasons, and from different backgrounds.  But we're all here to do the same thing.  Similarly to a skydiving dropzone or a game of Ultimate, you show up and you learn something from everyone, and we leave our real lives at the door when we show up.
 
Hope everyone has a great Monday!  I need to tape up and water some plants before catching the sun sinking through the Daheyan.  Take care
 
Dan

Still waiting for the sunset... our first hike put us down on a high basin in pasture land.  Camels, horses, cattle, sheep, goats, and motorcycles (for the herders).  The rolling hills we hiked through reminded me of growing up in Northern Cali.  Hiking through them reminded me of that time the Goodfellas took a hammer to my toes.  Holy moly... ridge crossings take it out of you.
 
We're 20 miles into this thing.  So far no snags except some soreness which a nice medicinal cocktail will take care of.  Thursday/Friday will be the multi-day stage... 100 clicks in 30 hours... that's 62 miles... that's a baby ultra... and something for which I need to find some serious peace before embarking.
 
We don't have to navigate for this particular series, but most folks have a GPS watch and an iPod.  When I've hiked with mine I try to catch up on my audio reading.  I didn't bring it out here with me... being in the mountains is meditation enough (and the voices in my cranium keep me company).  The Chinese Army is pretty interested in our presence here.  We've seen them watching once or twice.  Someone told me they have some facilities out here in the desert they'd rather not let anyone in on.  Their Air Force gave us a nice demo this morning.  For all my work buddies, it looked like level accels/loaded decels from the contrails.  Heard a couple booms.
 
It's been cold.  An unpredicted front came across the valley two days ago and left wind and moisture.  Last night most couldn't sleep through the temperature drop.  Tonight it's supposed to drop below freezing.  In army-style tents, it's gonna be a ringer.  We all have survival bivvies just in case, but my tent is one of the few all-male ones, so spooning is not an option.
 
In the event I can't sleep, the stars should be PERFECT tonight, if the clouds move on.  We are a decent ways from Urumqi at this point, and that city is days away from any other city or body of water.  Except for the livestock and the Army snipers, we are alone out here.
 
I love this.  It's expensive, so I am impressed at meeting folks here who are doing ALL FIVE races this year.  I'm glad I can honor CAM and Stan by doing this one race.  I look forward to the doors it will open for the poor and neglected in His kingdom.  I pray Stan and Keisha have had safe travels this last week.  I am happy for Liz, who's looking forward to starting a new chapter with this exciting medical fellowship.  I'm blessed to be in a tent full of life-loving men whom I am learning so much from already.  And when I look around me at the mountains in every direction, I have to think "Wow, this was made for us... so let's make sure everyone has a chance to enjoy this life..."
 
I love you guys.  Hope I'm not still hobbling in the morning... another 20 miler tomorrow to get out of this bowl and then the real craziness begins.
 
Senda menipo!
Dan

Hola amigos!
 
I almost didn't make it this far.  "This far" being the outskirts of Gaoyachun village with a cool breeze running down the line of A-frame tents behind me.  A few fires are quietly smoldering nearby and the atmosphere is being tickled by voices speaking at least five discernable languages; folks from all over are mingling and getting their worldly exposures in.  The Aussies and Kiwis tend to glom together which always makes for great evaesdropping. All have been extremely friendly to all.
 
Aside from our bus getting wedged on logging roads about 6-9 times on the way out here... and aside from my checked gear staying in Beijing last night as I flew on to Urumqi -- I learned there is always ONE person every race this happens too... lucky me -- I also have felt eyes constantly on the back of my nugget
 
Am I paranoid?  Or have I become the next target of... THE THREE SPIES
 
(Cue Ernest humming dramtic segway music)
 
My flight from San Fran to Beijing began with a suspicious pull aside (so to speak)
I was handed a fresh set of boarding passes at the gate, and sent to the drug sniffing machine
And so I was marked...
 
On the Air China flight suspiciously full of Chinese nationals... I found my row, and as I took my window seat (read: no outs) a beautiful woman who spoke perfect English took the seat next to me with a friendly hello.  I resisted her powers for as long as I could (by pretending to sleep for 8 hours), but in the end she got me with her laugh (at the Chinese Spongebob playing in front of us), and next thing you know we're sharing baking recipes.  I eventually realized that I could reverse the power dynamic (something women like men to think they can do) by convincing her to offer me help in Beijing finding my connection gate.  And she did so swimmingly, and then she was out of my life... I still wonder what she took from me.. SPY #1
 
On the flight to Urumqi, I was woken up from a real nap by a friendly fella from Hong Kong who is running in this race as well.  After slicing through his whimsical stories of previous races and athletic achievements, I used the Reverse-Captain-Kirk-Pseudo-Freudian-Slipnot-Mindscrew conversational maneuver to force a mistake out of him... that he was Singaporian (Nomad, I knew your people were after me!).  When my bag turned up lost in Urumqi, he flawlessy acted as translator and helped me get it back this morning... I still wonder what he took from me... SPY #2
 
And alas, after crawling into my room last night after midnight, my defenses down and mind weary, my "assigned" roommate woke to greet me, saying he was from Hong Kong as well... in a FRENCH accent!  Sorry but even Timber could pick up on that one, even if all non-Southern accents are foreign to him. Fenchie is some sort of ultra-champion whom all the racers here respect... but I see through the mirrors!... I still wonder what he's going to take from me... #3!
 
Ok, none of that was serious.  Fiona, Patrick, and Oliver are all swell human beings.  The sun just set over the most fantastic mountains I've seen in a while, and I am excited about Stage One tomorrow.  We'll have two short, flat stages to start it off... followed by increasing difficulty and culminating in a 100K all nighter... I didn't realize I was signing up for a baby ultra, but for Stan, I'll walk until my toenails fall off and keep going.
 
The rains last night have blanketed the Gobi with coolness and moisture.  That may not last the week, but tonight has been beautiful.  I unfortunately can't post pictures through the sat link, but I'll pepper those in when I get home.  Here's to a great Sunday.
 
God bless
Dan

There are innumerable folks to thank before leaving for the Gobi

- Stan, Keisha, Liz... I can't say enough about you... 'til we meet again
- Seamus, for showing me another side of life
- All the folks at Heart of the Bride, and the Walker family.  What you do for the world is incredible
- Jeff, Mark, Tim, Glenn, Kerry, Mike, Linda, Ernest, Sarah M, Chris, Christin, Kristin, Eddie, John, Brooke, Sarah R, Tracy, and all who made the long runs/walks/hikes bearable this last year
- The two wonderful couples whose weddings I missed so I could train for this.  I love you
- All the neat missions I've volunteered for and collaborated with
- Allison for the nutritional expertise
- Erin for the footwear expertise
- My boss for getting it
- My family... you all realized I lost it a long time ago!
- My dog just because

This journey isn't just 150 miles.  It's lifelong.  Looking forward to discovering where the path leads

This is a blog test... learning has just occurred.  Good job Dan

Happy trails!