Waking up in the tent is shere joy. The predawn twilight, just light enough for me to cook porridge and coffee and enjoy those delicious moments before the hecticness of the day starts. Then slowly the sun perks its upper curve above the hill tops on the horizon and in moments the whole circle of burning fire is blasting into your world.
I pack fast, ive got a rhythm and i know where everything goes. The wind is already ripping at my clothes and as the tent pegs come out its all my worth to keep hold of the tent. I ram it into its bag, i hasn’t folded a tent in years. Drop each bag into its position on the bike and ride towards the road.
The wind is on my back and I am screaming along. I just use my gps for the map and little else so i have little idea of speed or time.
Then back on the road. The truckers and cars all wave to me. Giving me a sence of comradery.
The road joined another and turned nearly 90⁰ this changed how the wind hit me, and although it still helped me along i was also sandblasted from the side, sheets of sand whipping up from the surrounding desert. I rode until a couple of times the road was completely obliterated. The bike was also ripped sideways as gusts hit the wheels and me. My right ear was full of sand.
Way back i saw a sign for a small town. Most small town seems to have a beautifully looked after supermarket. And they always allow me to sit snd rest for a while. Ramadan precludes me from eating in public. As i was sitting in my sand/heat blasted reverie i saw a sign Hotel. And like a pathetic moth to a flame i was in, paid and showered, my tent would not have stayed upright in that wind, well thats my excuse and im sticking to it.
A Couple of Days Ride Outta....... 