The Long March…

Here is the story of how my 100 kilometer (61 mile), 32 hour Stage Five trek through the Gobi Desert went – I originally tried to post a version of this from the Camp Oven Cyber Tent after crossing the finished line, but that seems to have vanished into the ether somehow…so here it is again (with apologies for the length of the post).

To pick up from where my Stage Four blog post left off, we spent the late afternoon and evening on Wednesday at the Uighur Ghost Town camp cheering the remaining competitors on as they made their way in and across the finish line.  The heat continued to be oppressive – our first day of really serious heat – and the late arrivals were coming in under very tough conditions, several of them requiring medical help.  

We were told that, due to the heat, the next day’s stage – Stage Five, a.k.a. the Long March – would start from the ghost town camp at 6 a.m., which meant that we would all be getting up at 4 a.m. to fix our breakfasts and do our final packing and preparation for the big day.  The original idea was for everyone to sleep on the floor inside the ghost town building (a kind of tourist museum) but due to the stifling heat inside most of us decided to relocate out onto the parapet to sleep under the stars.  That proved to be a great decision – we spread out on the parapet and kicked back, admiring the amazing view of the setting sun lighting up the tops of the Flaming Mountains while the stars began coming out.  After the sun disappeared from view around 10:00 p.m. the temperature cooled off a bit and there was a nice breeze.  We all sat around chatting and joking for a while but soon everyone nodded off.  I managed to sleep like a baby for about 5 hours until we all were awakened at 4 a.m. to get ready for the Long March.

We were up for a while and had breakfast going when we were told that the start of the race would be delayed until 8 a.m. due to last minute course modifications.  This was a little bit frustrating – we would have all liked to get a few more hours’ sleep – but I am not one to underestimate the logistical hurdles of pulling off a race like this under these conditions and in this location.  So the air mattress, sleeping pads and bags came back out and several of us got back out on the parapet and napped for an extra 45 minutes or so, before waking and making the final packing and preparations.

The Long March finally got going at 8 a.m. on Thursday morning with all of us crossing a very rickety rope suspension bridge (swaying like crazy back and forth as we tried to hold poles in one hand and hang onto the rope bridge with the other), then we were quickly heading along the ridge of another canyon and then down into a valley crossing a series of fast-moving streams, deep muddy ditches and tall groves of bamboo.  We emerged out of the valley onto some dirt tracks leading to the nearby town of Turpan .  Even though this would be a very high mileage day, with my pack finally now so much lighter I could not resist the urge to run for a kilometer or so on the dirt tracks before hitting the first checkpoint at the beginning of Turpan town.

After passing Checkpoint One, the course turned into a very long tour of Turpan town, with lots of the locals turning out to greet and/or gawk at us (it was fun to imagine what we must have looked like to them as we passed through in all of our gear).  Lots and lots of very cute little kids came out and greeted us, with most of the little boys expecting high fives as we passed by.  We stopped and took pictures with one particular group of them in front of Turpan’s main mosque, and they got a big kick out of seeing themselves on the LCD screens of the cameras.  We continued heading through town and passed along the main marketplace boulevard, where we were offered lots of very tempting slices of local melons (supposedly the most delicious in all of China) – it was very tough to turn those down after living on bottled water, Clif bars, beef jerky and freeze-dried food all week but we managed to stick to the rules. 
Eventually we started making our way out of the town, and started passing lots of orchards and irrigated fields – as well as some beautiful stone and mud brick ruins of ancient Silk Route trading posts and villages.  At Checkpoint Two I stopped and inspected my feet and discovered my very first blister of the entire event and had the medics treat it for me.  After having a snack and reloading on water, and cleaning all of the caked mud from the earlier water and ditch crossings out of my gaiters, I headed out alone towards checkpoint three.  

After going a few more miles up the same road, the course then veered right off of the road and out into an expanse of scrub desert, which was inhabited by nothing but sagebrush and some fast moving lizards that would dart in and out of my way as I trekked along (I will have to look them up later and figure out exactly what species they were – I think I saw one of them changing color as it ran away and I want to see if I was right about that or just imagining it).  I made pretty decent time through this section of the desert, helped a great deal by the fact that the sky was overcast by this point and the temperatures were not too bad – only in the mid-eighties Fahrenheit.  After Checkpoint Three the course started following a gravel and dirt road through the scrub desert, with the occasional truck going by.  It was here that I had my encounter with the camel spiders.

The first camel spider came up on me fast, startling me a bit – it was bright yellow and about eight inches long, about the size of a crawdad, and came skittering up the gravel road directly toward me like the little baby creature from “Alien” – motoring along on its six back legs and brandishing its front two pincers up high above its head.  I side-stepped it and it kept on going down the track – too quick for me to get my camera out to take a picture.  

Half an hour later another one came along, slightly bigger than the first one, and as I moved to one side and tried to take a picture of it the spider turned to come right at me.  I couldn’t get over how aggressive it was, fearlessly charging me even though I was clearly big enough to stomp it flat if I wanted to.  As I moved around it kept coming at me over and over – we must have circled around each other at least three times – and to my complete disbelief nothing I could do would cause it to back off or be intimidated in any way.  My pictures weren’t coming out that well (too blurry because the spider could move really fast) and I was getting tired of continually dodging it, so I kicked a bunch of gravel at it to see what it would do.  To my surprise that seemed to stun it, and it became nearly motionless so I took the opportunity to move in close and snap a few pictures of it.  I then resumed heading down the track, although I have to admit I did glance back a few times over my shoulder to make sure it wasn’t following me!

As I continued down the road through the scrub desert toward Checkpoint Four, I started developing a lot of pain in my lower left leg, along the outside of my shin and around to the side of my calf muscle.  This was the first serious pain of the whole event, and it was not too bad at the beginning but by the time I got to Checkpoint Four, which was around 40 kilometers (25 miles) in, it was hurting pretty bad.  The doctor at Checkpoint Four took a look and said that it was most likely tendonitis, and that continuing on would worsen the pain but would not cause any permanent damage.  I could take some painkillers and anti-inflammatories to help it a bit, but we were not able to take anything really effective since it was dangerous to take anything that might make you loopy or drowsy or would be rough on your kidneys (one common serious medical problem in these events is kidney failure from taking too many anti-inflammatories or painkillers – most of these are rough on your kidneys and with your kidneys working overtime to process all of the extra water you are drinking, taking too many or taking them too often can lead to very serious trouble – so just popping some strong pills is not a solution).  At the doctor’s suggestion, I took a break and propped my feet up for about half an hour at the checkpoint, eating some snacks and drinking some water.  I felt much better after doing that and got ready to set out for Checkpoint Five.  

From here on out I would be entering the Turpan Basin salt flats, which includes the second lowest exposed point on Earth.  The actual spot is marked by a concrete obelisk, but the staff at the checkpoint told me that the marker was half a kilometer off of the course if I wanted to see it – so I took a pass, not feeling at that point like adding an extra kilometer to the course.  So I set off under overcast skies and mid-80s temperatures to enter the Turpan salt flats.  Just as I was leaving the checkpoint, I saw my friends Shirish and Rohit, an uncle-and-nephew team from Hong Kong, coming up to stop at the Checkpoint and said a quick hello before setting off on my own.  At this point I also noticed a small patch of blue sky opening up in what had till now been completely grey overcast skies…

About fifteen minutes after leaving Checkpoint Four the overcast skies completely dissipated and it was suddenly a clear blue sky with a very hot sun beating down on the salt flats.  The quickness and severity of the change in temperature was dramatic – within the space of about twenty minutes, the temperature rose from somewhere in the mid-eighties to over 115 degrees Fahrenheit (not exaggerating here one bit) – it was like someone turned on a French fry lamp overhead.  I was fine – very well covered up in reflective clothing including a desert hat, and very well hydrated and stocked up on water and electrolytes.  I was moving at a brisk pace but being careful not to over-exert myself in the heat.  I kept moving along through the salt flats, occasionally stopping to take pictures of the weird lunar landscape and the pools of strangely colored iridescent orange, green and silver water scattered among the rocks (these odd colors must have been caused by mineral salts leaching from the surrounding rocks and dirt, but I am not 100% sure about that).  After a couple of hours I came up on a small, shabby construction site of some sort in the middle of nowhere and stopped to take a picture.  There were some Uighur workers sitting in a construction shack getting shade from the sun, and as I was snapping pictures up popped the head of James from the U.K., one of the competitors I had gotten to know over the past few days, asking if he could walk with me.  I told him of course he could, and then I noticed Rohit coming up fast behind me on the trail, waving at us.  We waited for him to arrive, and he also asked if we could all walk together from that point just to be safe in the heat.  That sounded like a great idea, so the three of us banded together and set off for Checkpoint Five.

We hit Checkpoint Five as the sun was nearly on the horizon, after a long, very hot walk through the salt flats.  There was a water pump nearby – the water wasn’t safe to drink but it was cold and it felt good to pour it over my head and use it to wipe all of the caked dust off of my face.  Put my feet up again for about twenty minutes to relieve the leg pain, drank and reloaded on water and electrolytes, and then we set off again – this time minus James, who decided to remain at the checkpoint a bit longer (he had been having problems and not feeling well the past few days and ended up dropping out of the race either there or at one of the next few checkpoints I believe).  We added Dan, a USAF engineer from Southern California , to our group and set off for Checkpoint Six just as the sun was setting.  Gorgeous sunset over the salt flats and I was able to snap some great pictures of it.

Darkness fell quickly and so did the temperatures. By this time it was about 10 p.m. Thursday evening.  We turned on our headlamps and continued heading down the path through the salt flats.  After it got completely dark we noticed something very interesting – lots of sets of little orange eyes glowing out in the darkness, observing us as we passed by.  We were finally able to get a headlamp on one of them and realized that they were lizards.  After an hour or so the pain in my left leg really started ramping up again, to the point where I had to reluctantly ask Rohit and Dan to slow the pace down a little bit.  They were very accommodating, even though we were all eager to get to the next checkpoint as quickly as possible.  After the searing heat of the salt flats, we were discussing how desirable it would be to get as far as possible overnight to take advantage of the cool temperatures and to make sure we hit the final stretch – a very tough 6 or 7 kilometers over massive sand dunes to the base camp – as early as we could to avoid making the dune crossing in the hottest part of the day.

We hit Checkpoint Six around 1:30 a.m.  My leg was really killing me so I needed to put my feet up for a bit and we all needed to take a rest.  As we came in I was surprised to see a lot of competitors in somewhat bad shape, getting medical attention or curled up in sleeping bags – apparently a number of them, including one that I knew, had been caught by the sudden change in the weather and suffered heat exhaustion or other problems out in the salt flats.  My friend – who I knew was a very strong runner – told me he had “crashed” due to not eating enough, and now was trying to get his blood sugar stabilized and see if he could go on.  I gave him my bag of crushed chips and my last steak bar (I had plenty of other snacks and food to get me through) and wished him luck. As I laid back and put my feet up to give them a break, there was a magnificent moonrise coming up out over the salt flats, with a big fat red moon rising through some low clouds.  I quickly tried to set my little camera up on a small tripod to take some long exposure images of the moon – after getting the first one wrong due to an incorrect exposure, I managed to get a decent shot of the “red moon rising” over the Gobi. 

Rohit and I then got up to leave for Checkpoint Seven, about fifteen kilometers away through the remainder of the salt flats.  Dan said he wanted to hang out at Checkpoint Six for a while longer but might catch up with us later.  Rohit and I set out for Checkpoint Seven, keeping a good pace at first but then my leg pain started to resurface which slowed us down a bit.  One of the other competitors – one of the faster guys who had been caught out by the temperature change earlier in the day – passed us as we were leaving the salt flats and entering a series of orchards.  We tracked him by his flashing red bag light as he got farther and farther ahead, hoping for some indication of where the next checkpoint might be, but the distance (and our tired states of mind) played tricks on us and we repeatedly thought we were coming up on the checkpoint only to find that long empty stretches of the course lay ahead of us, by this point consisting of a seemingly endless series of orchards. 

We finally hit Checkpoint Seven at around 5:30 a.m.  Checkpoint Seven was designed to be a major refueling stop on the Long March – unlike the other checkpoints, it had a campfire, hot water for cooking freeze dried food, and several big tents for people who wanted to grab some sleep on the course before tackling the final sections.  When we rolled into Checkpoint Seven we were told that the tents were already jam-packed with competitors and there was no room.  Rohit and I decided to rest for a bit and then grab a hot meal before continuing onward.  He found a good spot next to the medical station, and I went around the other side of the checkpoint and found an empty section of tarp, inflated my air mattress, put my feet up on a stool and promptly fell asleep under the stars.  I was awakened a half an hour later by my tentmate Steve (the one I saw getting an IV in the ravine during Stage Four), who said that he and five other guys had just finished sleeping six hours in one of the tents and were clearing out for Checkpoint Eight and that I should go get in the tent and sleep there instead of out in the open.  I was a bit groggy but very happy to hear this and Steve, a prince of a fellow, took the initiative to grab my backpack and gear and carry it over to the tent for me (thanks Steve!).  I walked over by the medical station to tell Rohit about the empty tent – he was in his sleeping bag and said he was OK where he was, and so I went into the tent and slept for about an hour.  Got up at around 7:00 a.m. as the sky was starting to get light on the horizon, and Rohit and I cooked breakfast (instant noodles for him, lasagna with meat for me) and then we were off towards Checkpoint Eight.

Long hard slog to Checkpoint Eight, with my leg pain getting worse and worse.  It especially bothered me on hard surfaces, and unfortunately this stretch was nearly all on pavement as we passed through a small village and along some orchard roads.  We passed one of the Chinese competitors hobbling along on one trekking pole, using it as a crutch – we tried to talk to him to see if he was OK but he didn’t speak any English.  He seemed coherent though and not too badly off so we kept on going.  About an hour later Dan came running up behind us to tell us that he found the Chinese guy was slumped against a wall with his eyes closed, holding a half-full water bottle in his hand.  Dan jumped on a small motorized wagon and got the driver to take him ahead up to Checkpoint Eight so he could alert the staff to come and get the Chinese guy.  We were pretty close to the checkpoint and Dan was able to quickly get help to the guy, who eventually recovered and finished the Stage before the cutoff time.

We reached Checkpoint Eight and rejoined Dan.  The three of us loaded up on water and started to head out toward the sand dunes.  By this time it was nearly 11 a.m. and the sun was getting high in the sky and the temperature was climbing.  Still, with a little luck we could get across the sand dunes before the temperatures peaked in the mid to late afternoon.  Because of the heat, the staff had set up an additional mini-checkpoint (Checkpoint “8.5”, really just a manned water stop) just shy of the beginning of the sand dunes to give one last opportunity to replenish water and cool off before tackling the dunes.  We had to cross about five kilometers of open desert, ringed by small villages and small vineyards, to get to that last water stop so the three of us set off.  We could see the massive sand dunes looming off in the distance.

We got about 25 minutes into the desert when we ran into a major problem.  We had been following small course flags set by the staff, but suddenly there were no more course flags to be seen.  Turns out local kids had been stealing them, which had caused several competitors (including the frontrunner) to take wrong turns and get lost.  Rohit wanted to go back to Checkpoint Eight and ask the staff to re-mark the course for us, while Dan and I wanted to keep hunting around for more flags.  We agreed that we would wait in the general vicinity for Rohit for one hour and if he didn’t return by then we would continue on without him (assuming that we had figured out by then which direction the course continued from that point).  After searching around for another ten or fifteen minutes, Dan and I realized that it was not going to be a good idea to remain out in the sun waiting for Rohit, so we went over to one of the vineyards adjoining the desert and ducked into the shade under the grape arbors.

As we watched out for Rohit’s return, a bunch of local kids materialized over a small sand dune, and we went out and Dan offered them candy if they would find the next course flag for us.  After about ten minutes of searching around, one of them found the next course flag (and from there we could see others) so we knew the right direction to the final water stop.  We went back to another adjoining grape arbor and sat in the shade waiting out the remainder of the hour we promised to Rohit.  The local kids all came over and joined us, and we killed time by asking them to tell us their names and how old they were.  Then the hour was up with no sign of Rohit, so Dan and I continued onward (we guessed – correctly as it turned out – that Rohit had decided to wait for his uncle Shirish to catch up with him at Checkpoint Eight).

After about an hour we hit the final water stop, where we loaded up for the last, daunting hike across the massive sand dunes to the finish line for Stage Five and the camp site.  Because of the delays caused by the stolen course flags, we were hitting the sand dunes at exactly the time we had tried so hard to avoid – the peak heat of the mid- to late-afternoon sun.  But we were very well hydrated, had loads of water on us, and apart from my left leg pain I was feeling fine.  Dan and I were both in complete agreement to take things slow and steady and to constantly communicate with each other to make sure no problem was developing at all.  Plus we were also reassured by the news that teams of doctors were in the dunes on camels sweeping along to be able to get to competitors who experienced problems.  So the two of us set out to cross the big dunes.  At this point we had been on the go for about 29 hours or so and were tired but feeling fine.

As we headed up into the massive dunes the heat was just really remarkable.  The temperature clocked in at 126 degrees Fahrenheit (52 degrees Celsius), even hotter than the salt flats earlier the previous afternoon.  The sand was so hot it just baked right up through the soles of my trail shoes and through two layers of socks.  The water in my front water bottles got hotter than the water you would bathe in if you were taking a really hot shower.  Strangely enough I still felt my body cooling off in the breeze – the wind was helping my sweat to evaporate off of my body, which felt cool even though the direct temperature of the air on my skin felt like I was standing in front of a hair dryer.  Weird sensation.  We chugged along steadily through the dunes, one foot after the other, until we heard the sound of the tribal drum at the finish line getting louder and louder.  Cresting the final dune, we saw “ Camp Oven ” spread out before us, with Damien, Jacqueline and other people running out of the tents to greet us.  We slid down the sand and marched up to the finish line.  I couldn’t believe I was actually finishing this thing, especially after seeing so many people drop out and after getting delayed so that we hit the dunes so late in the day.  But here we were.  

As we crossed the finish line, we hammed it up a bit for the cameras, kneeling down and prostrating on the sand.  Then big hugs from everyone (it helps that everyone else is already sand-covered and sweaty too) and then over to the medical tent to dump the backpacks, take off the shoes (marveling at my swollen feet and swollen lower left leg) and then soaking my feet in hot water in a plastic tub.  After a while of soaking, and then double checking my blisters to make sure they weren’t getting infected, I went over to our tent and collapsed on my air mattress for a bit (the temperature in the tents at that point was 120 degrees Fahrenheit (49 degrees Celsius) but at least it was in the shade and I was prone. 

Rohit came in across the finish line about an hour later, and his uncle Shirish came in about an hour after that.  Absolutely bravo performances by everyone.  I ate my final freeze dried dinner (thanks Jacqueline for spotting me the Shephard’s Pie!) then hung around the campsite chatting with everyone as the sun went down.  The staff brought out a big Uighur birthday cake and everyone sang happy birthday to the competitors and staff (about five) who had had birthdays during the week…

Then it was time for the Cyber Tent to post my blog (which somehow got lost) and then sleeping outside on the sand behind the tents for one last night in the Gobi.  The next day would be the final stage (shortened from 20 kilometers in the dunes to a 5.6 kilometer run around one of the nearby towns) and the big post race party.  I will post a final blog entry describing that last day…

Thanks again to everyone for all of the comments and emails during the race – they were very much enjoyed and appreciated.  And thanks again very very much to those who donated to Smile Train (and for those still considering, it’s not too late! – see the link in my first blog posting)

Mark

Just a quick posting to let everyone know that I successfully completed the epic Long Day in one piece (in a lot of pain but no permanent damage, so the doctors tell me!) and have finished the final Stage 6 and taken the bus back to Urumqi, where I am writing this from my hotel room, showered for the first time in a week and with a room service cheeseburger and fries just down the hatch.  I made a long blog posting from the Oven camp a few hours after finishing the Long Day (had to collapse on the sleeping mat for a bit first and then get the doctors to look at my feet and my left leg before posting) but the blog posting seems to have disappeared into the ether.  In a few hours I will write a longer post giving all of the details about what was really an epic day (or actually day-and-a-half) adventure in the desert in the unbelievable heat.  The awards banquet is starting downstairs very soon so I don't have time now but will put all of this down properly later tonight...

Thanks again for all of the emails and well wishes, and especially for the donations to Smile Train...

Look for my longer posting to come in a few hours...in the meantime there are some pictures up on the website of me and Dan "the Man" Montes coming into Camp Oven and crossing the finish line after a two hour crossing of the Turpan Basin sand dunes in 126 degree Fahrenheit (52 degrees Celsius) heat...

Mark

Stage 4, done and dusted...
 
Much, much more challenging (and hot!) race today...we left the oasis village at around 4 am for a one and a half hour bus ride to our start.  We got going just before sunrise, with the early part of the course consisting of a long, boring slog down a dirt and gravel track on the desert floor (with the occasional huge truck going by and forcing us to scatter off the track).  But soon enough we veered right off of the track and started heading through a winding sandstone canyon that went along for about 10 kilometers before we got to the first checkpoint.  Was through the first checkpoint very quickly, just grabbing water refilling my water bottles and back on the course.  Shortly after the checkpoint, the first bit of fun began...we ascended from the canyon floor up onto a high plateau that consisted of rolling sand dunes, with great rock formations and mountains in the distance.  By this time the sun was getting up in the sky and it was getting pretty hot - going up and down and up and down over waves of sand dunes was pretty challenging but at the end was very glad to see checkpoint two waiting at the bottom for us.  By this time I was covered with red dust and my shoes were completely full of sand and rocks, so I took a break to dump out my shoes and put some gaiters on to keep the sand out for the rest of the course (I had the gaiters on me but there was no warning about the sand in the morning briefing so I didn't know to put them on in advance).  After leaving checkpoint 2 we headed into what was by far the most spectacular scenery of the Gobi March so far - I know I am overusing the hyperbole describing the scenery but this really was exceptional - and the guy who laid out the course confirmed that this would be the most scenic part of the entire event.
 
The final segment started with a long hike across the sand toward some beautiful rock formations and box canyons.  As we were about to head down into the box canyon, I saw that the woman up ahead had missed the turn and gone up a very big hill, crested it and disappeared.  We shouted for her but there was no response, and it was not clear how far off course she might go, whether she might get lost, etc.  So after some quick deliberation, for my second good deed of the race I had to run up the big hill after her and get her before she got too far away.  Fortunately she wasn't listening to music and she heard me shouting once I got to the top, and turned around and headed back.
 
So then a group of us descended into a serpentine series of box canyons that were only wide enough for one person to pass.  The box canyons went on for an unbelievably long time, and by this time it was getting seriously hot and there was zero breeze down in the canyons.  I ended up going ahead of the group as everyone separated and started slowing down in the heat.  I ended up coming out of the last segment of the box canyons way ahead of everyone, and proceeded down the final leg which was a huge ravine that ran from the high plateau we had been on most of the day all the way down to the low desert floor - probably 6 kilometers of ravine to go down.  Some of it was very narrow and twisty with treacherous footing, but big sections of it were red sand and I was able to run down a lot of it.  But about halfway down I came upon a tent mate, laid out under a sandstone outcropping getting an emergency IV from two members of the medical team.  So even though I felt fine, I decided to slow down and walk the rest of the way in.  The ravine emptied out in front of the Flaming Mountains, a very famous and incredibly scenic area.  It was then a relatively short way to the camp, which tonight is located in the "Uighur Ghost Town", a sort of abandoned Silk Road museum and tourist attraction.  Given the lack of tourists in the desert at this time of year, the authorities have apparently let us have the run of the place for one night.  A very odd place - will try to take some pictures of it before we leave.
 
So Stage Four is behind me.  Still no blisters, thankfully, although general wear and tear is starting to materialize.  Nothing a lot of Tylenol can't solve though.  A bit apprehensive about the long day tomorrow, 100 kilometers (61 miles).  I am expecting that this will take me all day Thursday, all night Thursday night, and then well into Friday morning to finish.  I am going to go very, very slow and cautiously, and safety is the absolute number one concern, and I won't hesitate to drop out if i run into trouble...So wish me luck, and look for my next update some time Friday...
 
Thanks again to everyone who has emailed or made comments on the blog, and especially thanks to everyone who has donated to Smile Train...I will thank each of you personally when I get back, but for now I would just like to say thanks to all of you...
 
O and Derek, I miss you very much and can't wait to see you when I get back!

 The third stage went very well today, and I was very happy with my time.  The day was mainly overcast, which kept the temperatures down and allowed me to make good time on the trail.  No serious aches or pains, and only  one small blister so far which is easily dealt with - my good luck continues to hold out.
 
To catch up after my last blog posting - some very dark rain clouds moved in yesterday right before sunset (which made for some great pictures with the mountains and canyon walls lit by the setting sun and the black clouds coming in from over the horizon. Although it looked like it would pour buckets, it only ended up sprinkling a bit - the topography and desert weather patterns means that rain either gets blocked from even getting here or if it does most of it evaporates before it hits the ground.
 
Still a bit cold last night but nothing like the freezing temperatures of the previous two nights.  We were off to an early start at 8 am this morning, with the sun barely up because of forecasted high temperatures.  The sky remained very overcast for most of the day, and it even sprinkled a bit again during the day (which is really remarkable because this area averages only 3 millimeters of precipitation a year).  The first six miles of the course were along the riverbed of the big canyon that we camped next to last night.  Not the Grand Canyon, but pretty big.  The canyon floor is nothing but rocks, averaging about the size of a grapefruit, which was very difficult to navigate without twisting an ankle or worse.  The canyon floor is crisscrossed with fast moving streams of very cold water (must be snowmelt from the surrounding mountains) and we had to make a number of water crossings in the morning.  Not more than knee deep or so, but the streams were lined with smooth, slippery big rocks and the current was fast enough to take your feet out from under you if you weren't careful (saw this happen to a few people).  So by the end of six miles (and nearly spraining my bad ankle about a dozen times on the rocks), we emerged from the riverbed with soaking wet shoes and socks - which thankfully dried quickly once we got going on the second segment of the course.  The remainder of the course consisted of a long stretch on the high desert floor, following ruts in the sand and gravel left by jeeps and other 4 wheel drives, and then we had to traverse a series of ravines, which was a lot of up and down but not as high as the hills on the previous two days.  Ended up on a nice long flat downhill run into an oasis village sitting in the middle of a small canyon, where we are staying tonight.  We are actually staying in the local people's homes tonight (they have vacated some of the larger village houses for us to stay in) and the best surprise of all is a small stream next to the village where we can rinse our clothes and wash up a bit.
 
We were just told that we are getting up at 2:45 am this morning and leaving the village by bus at 3:45 am to be bussed to the start of Stage 4.  Apparently there is some power plant under construction nearby and we couldn't get permission to go around it so they have modified the course and we need to ride the bus from here to the starting point of the next stage, instead of starting from today's camp.  Tomorrow will be a long stage and will be good and hot.  Will be sure to post another update when I finish Stage 4.
 
By the way, I was told that there was a problem getting a satellite connection yesterday, so my blog entry didn't go out on time.  I think it has already been posted but in case it has not please look out  for it.  Also there are apparently some good pictures and videos of me up on the website for anyone interested in checking them out - I am number 85 (look for my race bib).
 
Thanks again to everyone for all of the nice emails and blog comments...
 
Derek - I passed an area where someone had made little piles of flat stones along the path...I think Makka Pakka may live around here somewhere
 
Mark

Finished Stage 2 a short while ago in fine shape, except for some sore shoulders because my pack is too heavy.  No blisters and surprisingly no serious aches and pains (yet).  Hope my luck holds up for the rest of the week!
 
Very very cold last night, partly a function of the higher altitude we are at now.  I am so glad I sucked it up and got a warmer sleeping bag, even though it is heavier and every ounce counts.  You would think you would be able to get away with a light sleeping bag in the desert but I was warned that the temperatures plummet at night, particularly at high altitude, and I am glad I listened.  My tentmates with light sleeping bags did not have a pleasant night, whereas I slept 9.5 hours like a baby...
 
We were off to a very hilly start this morning, and the first part of the day was going up and down repeatedly over some decent sized hills.  The scenery was actually twice as nice as yesterday, with the first half of the day spent summiting a series of big hills with spectacular sweeping views out over the desert and toward the encircling mountain ranges, then lots of downhills (but none as tricky as the rockslides yesterday).  Gorgeous blue skies all day, with some white cumulous clouds in the latter part of the day.  The first checkpoint, at around 14 kilometers, was in the middle of a small, remote village consisting entirely of mud huts surrounded by irrigated fields - looked like it could have been there for a thousand years.  Once again the locals turned out to see us and were very nice - got my picture taken with some of them and snapped some pictures of some very cute local kids.  By the way, I think there are some pictures of me up on the racingtheplanet.com website (and maybe some videos too) if anyone is interested, my race number is 85 in case it is difficult to pick me out with all of the sunglasses and gear on...
 
The second half of the race involved traversing a very rocky broad riverbed (where my main concern was not blowing out my ankle) surrounded by very colorful desert mountain scenery, then passing an even smaller more remote village and then winding our way along a very scenic canyon (where I kept stopping to take lots of pictures because the scenery around each bend was even more beautiful than the last).  Then we dropped down and crossed the riverbed on the canyon floor which was our first water crossing - the water was pretty shallow, only up to my knees, and it was relatively short, only 40 meters or so.  The course then snaked up through some gulleys and ended up on a broad plain, ringed by mountains, and then after a few final kilometers I turned around a rock outcropping and there was our camp...
 
The temperatures are starting to climb a bit, but still not too hot, and still well below the average temperatures for this time of the year (and still well below the scorching temperatures here last week).  They have given us some information about the remaining stages and Stage 5, the "Long March", is starting to cause some mild anxiety...it was originally supposed to be about 50 miles but because of some final course changes it is now going to be 61 miles (100 kilometers), and the temperatures may be quite a bit hotter by the time that stage rolls around (Thursday and Friday - we have 48 hours to finish it, and I am thinking it may take 30-32 hours to finish depending on the heat and the difficulty of the terrain).  So let's see!
 
Signing off for now to go enjoy some more delicious freeze dried food by the fire...will post again in about 24 hours to let everyone know how Stage 3 went...
 
Quick note for Derek - still two thumbs up!
 

So far, so good...finished the first stage today in great condition, no blisters or other problems.  The day started off freezing cold - the temperature went down to 5 degrees celsius last night and I was glad I invested in a warm sleeping bag).  The race kicked off in front of a mosque in the small village near where we made camp last night - lots of local villagers turned out, and a few even brought their camels to see us off... 
 
The stage was 32 kilometers, with the first 17 kilometers consisting of a long stretch across the desert floor (with magnificent snow-capped mountains - the Tien Shan range - on the horizon)and then winding through some gulleys before coming to the second checkpoint, which was right around the halfway point of the stage.  The final stretch of 15 kilometers was not exactly what any of us were expecting based on the way it was described in the prerace briefing that morning.  We immediately started a very steep rocky climb and the next 3-4 hours were spent ascending a series of mountains, up and down very steep hills with poor traction. According to one of my tentmates' GPS, the highest point we hit was 7,800 feet (starting from close to sea level).  In addition to the serious uphills, there were also a couple of highly technical descents through rockslides and scree that caused one of the competitors to blow out his knee and drop out.  The one thing that made up for all of it were a series of absolutely stunning views from the various high points that we climbed to - I knew in advance that we would see spectacular scenery at various points this week but was not expecting to get so much of it.  Very happy about that.  And while it did heat up quite a bit during the day from the very cold morning temperatures, it seemed like it was only in the 90s at most, a far cry from last week when it was 118 degrees here for most of the week.  So the climbing was somewhat hot but not nearly as hot as it could have been (and not nearly as hot as they are projecting it to be starting from midweek).  All in all I was pretty happy about my time given that this is the first time I have done an event like this and wanted to be conservative to maximize the chances that I finish.  I came in about an hour later than I planned, largely because I happened upon a very seriously dehydrated Canadian woman at around 23 kilometers who had very unwisely neglected to take any water with her at the last checkpoint and was nearly out of water when I met her and seemed in somewhat bad shape, so I gave her some of my water and walked with her (later joined by others) for the final 9 kilometers to make sure she was OK.  This caused me to run out of water about 4 kilometers from the end but it was OK and I knew at that point I could easily make it to the camp safely with no further water (plus there were other people with us at that point in the unlikely case I had misjudged that).  So off of my target time by about one hour  but I did manage to get in my Good Samaritan momentn for the race today...
 
Have to head over to the fire now and cook up some delicious freeze-dried food and then hit the sack.  Will make another blog posting tomorrow to describe how Stage 2 went...
 
Quick note for Derek - Daddy says "two thumbs up!"
 

Just arrived in Urumqi, the capital of Xinjiang province where the race will be held.  Will spend the next few hours packing the backpack and getting all of our equipment organized...tomorrow morning we get our gear inspected to make sure we have all of the required emergency and other equipment, have at least the minimum required amount of food, etc.  Then we have lunch at the hotel and then a long van ride out into the desert...we will make camp tomorrow night, have a delightful freeze dried dinner and then early Sunday morning the race will start...

The hotel is pretty nice and to my surprise we have a very fast broadband connection...so I will be trying to have a little Skype video call with my wife and son before our son goes to bed in a little while - they are in Thailand visiting my wife's family while I am up here competing in the race this week.  Would just like to take this opportunity to thank both of them for all of the help, support and patience they have provided the past several months as I have spent quite a bit of time, including what should be weekend family time, hiking in the mountains in Hong Kong and running to get ready for this...a good chunk of it was spent with them, with our son on my back in the backpack carrier, but a lot of it was solo and they were very patient and understanding about my long absences...

I will try to post blog entries each night after we finish the day's segment (but depending on what kind of condition I find myself in).  At each campsite there will be some laptops available, powered by a generator and connected to the Internet by a portable satellite uplink.  Amazing that this is possible in almost literally the middle of nowhere... 

In conjunction with this race I am raising money for a favorite charity, Smile Trainwhich is the world's largest charity for treating poor children around the world born with cleft palate or cleft lip. Smile Train has received a lot of recognition for measures they take to improve efficiency, reduce the bite that overhead and marketing take out of donations, and in particular to focus on training local doctors how to do this surgery so that costs are reduced and local medical skills are developed and left behind in the community when the charity moves on to the next location. Smile Train estimates that each surgery costs US$250.00 on average, so even small donations can make a big contribution towards dramatically changing lives for the better. As Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner of the New York Times' "Freakonomics" blog put it, "fixing a child’s cleft lip or palate is a relatively cheap procedure with outsize payoffs: cleft children in many countries are ostracized and have a hard time going to school, getting jobs and marrying, and the surgery reverses those disadvantages."

For Freakonomics on Smile Train, see here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/09/magazine/09WWLN-freakonomics-t.html?_r=2&pagewanted=print&oref=slogin

and here:

http://freakonomics.blogs.nytimes.com/2006/11/08/smile-train/

To get things going, I will match the first US$2,500 in aggregate donations dollar-for-dollar, which means that if we hit that goal we will have raised US$5,000 total which is enough money to pay for twenty surgeries...

Here is a link to my fundraising page if you are interested in making a donation to this very worthy cause…

http://www.smiletrain.org/goto/mark_lehmkuhler_gobi_march_2010

Thanks very much in advance for your donation - any amount you can give is very much appreciated, and even small amounts can make a big impact on the lives of cleft children...


Mark