Wow! The Sahara Race was an increadible experience of the magnificent desert and super people from everywhere. I saw some pretty strong willed folk in that wasteland. I think I came out of it relatively unscathed. I'm fairly sure now I have a stress fracture to my right tibia. How in the hell I can run hundreds and thousands of miles on roads and hard-packed trails with no problems, only to come into this type of injury, running in soft sand. Oh well, whatever. Still though, I feel for Allan and Roy, who came so close to the end. Roy's probably good to go now, and already training. But I hope that Allan has seen a doctor and his injury is not as bad as he suspected. As I was travelling through the desert, I didn't have much else to do other than talk to myself, and come up with names of the places and things we all saw. The friends I was showing picture to thought that the names I had given these places, were their real names. Truth be told, most of the time I had no idea where we were (other than following pink flags for hours and hours). But the names seemed to work. "The Great Saharan Bunny Rabbit", the "Ocean of Sand", "Cartoon Oasis" and "Dragon's Back Dunes". The rabbit, interstingly, change to a raptor of some sort perched on a stone once you passed it and looked at it from a different angle. Well it did to me anyway. One of the things I didn't get a picture of was some kind of fossil I ran across shortly before getting to the CP at Cartoon Oasis. It was a series of concentric circles in the rock of different shades of brown/green, that must have been 2 to 3 meters across. Anyone else see those? I, like most of us other than Andrew, Mark and the other studs, turned inward during the long day. The wind that day was more than just a cooling effect, it was downright strong. From what I heard later, not too many of the runners really enjoyed the wind that day. Now, I wasn't doing a whole heck of a lot of hard charging running that day, but I sort of enjoyed it. It certainly made it interesting, in an adventure sort of way. Although I didn't much appreciate laying on the ground at one of the CP's with my feet up on a chair trying to belay my swelling, and having a venturi effect from the jeeps, blowing sand into my eyes and nose. At one CP I took my pack off and asked the volunteers if they could guess what song I was listening to on my Ipod. It was "Tea In The Sahara", by The Police. And apprently they had been singing it at the CP just before my arrival. There were parts of that Plataeu that reminded me of the Mona Kea Caldera. I did lose the glow sticks a couple of times that night. There is that short moment of "holy crap", but you quickly learn to keep the sticks to either your right or left. That way you know which way to go...if it happens again. Then it happens again, and you think "holy crap!" Then there were the dogs. We had just come off of the Plateau and into the flats. By the way that was a cool sight, seeing the sticks agcross the floor of the desert. Anyway, again I had no idea where I was, and I began to hear some dogs barking in the distance. There are wild dogs out in the desert where I live, so that's the first thing that came to mind. I didn't know that we were passing a village, so when the dogs began getting closer, I stopped grabbed my Storm Whisle (that's why I had to buy the thing) and my knife. As I looked out into the darkness and saw the glowing eyes of the beasts, I blew as hard as I could into the whistle, and yelled some obscenities....only to realize I has scared the bejesus out of two runners that were just behind me. Well, the dogs were apparently pets. We were flanking a village at the time. Okay, then there was the last CP before camp. And apparently this wasn't just an issue with me......but the volunteer manning that CP needs to work on his fractions a bit. I was tired, sore and mentally drained. I didn't need any water, so I decided to blow through the CP. "53 is in...53 is out" I yelled as I passed on the first black-top surface we had seen since Cairo. So he yells after me, "You're almost there. It's 75% road and 25% sand!" So after a mere 300 yards on the road we turn off into deep sand.......so for the next several miles (silly me) I keep thinking that the 25% came first, and we will be back on the road soon, for the 75%.......Stupid me, right? I felt bad later, because I wasn't really nice to Alex, or Matt at the finish......And what the hell was Matt doing sitting at the finishline at 2:00AM? Later that day, I see Blain crawling to the med tent on his hands and knees, with sleeping bag stuff-sacks tied around his feet. I gotta say I was a little upset that these kids were out there trying to sell their goods, and we were told that we couldn't buy anything. Well, what the good doctor said, was that we could buy it, but couldn't consume it, and they would be glad to transport it back to Cairo for us. Unfortunately I didn't think of it at the time, but what I would have loved to do was buy the whole cart...say for 500 lbs....and then stack it up in front of the Med-tent with a note attached to it..."you can get my room number from the front desk...thanks a bunch, KCP. PS help your self to a Pepsi" I've done a lot of dangerous things in my life, but very few like the last 10K for the Sahara Race. I was fully expecting that I would end up at the finish line after everyone had left, having gotten completely lost along the way. Finding your way on the main road wasn't too bad. The trick there was to stay alive. At one point I was on the left side of the road...along the canal...and it dawned on me that I had two choices I could make. I could cross the road and run on the right side, slowing for human traffic, and maybe have an escape route if (if) I noticed a car or truck coming from behind. Or, I could stay here on the left. I figured I would probably survive the impact, only to be thrown into the canal, and die a few days later from Septic Shock. So I made my move to the right. And no more than two minutes later, I feel a sharp pain, as my left arm is thrown forward from being hit by the rearview mirror of a "Black and White" taxi. I think it was a Fiat. And I'm suprised that it even had a rearview mirror. I won't bore you with all the details of...say giving my water bottle away, knowing that I had a half full Camelback, and then only later, when I was really thirsty, realizing that the electrolyte/cytomax mix was nice and fermented from sitting in my tent for a full day....and tasted like someone had spiked it with Vodka.....Or trending right when we got to the Pyramids, because the "kids" had thought it would be funny to take the flags, and I was, at this point, still under the impression we were finishing at the Sphinx. Fortunately I saw Bob on the right track (to my left), and followed him into the finish. Oh, and ironically, Bob was also under the impression that we were finishing at the Sphinx, and that's where his family was. But the culmination of it all, finishing at the Pyramids was worth it all. I managed to raise just over $20,000 dollars for the WFF, learned some good English slang.....Giles makes the F-word sound almost poetic. Had a great time with Kobi at the market in Cairo on Sunday. My father would have enjoyed seeing me standing with Kobi and Roy with the flag of Israel in front of the Pyramids. Enjoyed the political discussions with Alain at 6:00 AM on Sunday morning. The kids at my wife's school really enjoyed Mark in his speedo. Good job by all the volunteers. Just like in any race, the volunteers make or break it. But I think it is even more true for something like this......And yes the CP crew...you guys know who you are...were the best. I'm sure I'll see some of you at either Gobi or Atacama.. . Peace, KCP PS there were paragraph breaks....but.......