Guelb er Richat, November 2010

written by Leslie Peralta 3 Aug ’12

Desert nights can be cold and last night was no exception. The three of us slept on the floor of a thatched hut with large openings, making for a very cold, sleepless night; I shivered, sniffled, and coughed the whole way through. The chickens awoke with the sunrise, so naturally, we did too.

We scarfed down breakfast (bread and coffee) and then made our way to Ouadane. Our plan was to drop off our belongings at the Auberge, and then drive 40km north to Guelb er Richat. Ahmed was well aware of this, but when we arrived in Ouadane, it was obvious he wanted to call it a day. Keep in mind that it was only 10am – not going to happen.

He looked exhausted and I could sympathize, for we were all in a disheveled state. That’s what happens when you’re sleeping on the ground, shitting in the sand, living off of bread and rice, and not showering for days. Oh, did I mention we’re in a constant state of sticky, sweating all day, every day? It’s enough to suck the life out of anyone, but if we could hang, so could he – he’s been living like this for years.

When we asked if we could proceed, he turned and said, “Small problem.” He went on to explain that the journey should begin around 7am, before the sand is “too hot,” so it’s best we postpone the trip until tomorrow. Wait…what? Did you just say the sand is “too hot?” Is that a joke? Of course the sand is hot! We’re in the bloody Sahara for Christ’s sake – the mother of all deserts, and we’ve been driving in the hot sand for days, so shut up!

Sorry. I’m not usually like this, I swear. I’ve become a cynic and its all Rich’s fault.

We said we’d take our chances. After all, it was Ahmed that originally suggested the itinerary the day before. If everything falls apart and we’re stranded in the desert, left for dead, at least we stood our ground. Principles my friends, principles.

Guelb er Richat resembles a giant meteorite crater, but it’s actually caused by natural erosion of ancient uplifted rocks. We traveled through three levels, but didn’t make it to the center, due to you know who. The vast rocky terrain was difficult to manage, but well worth it. As we made our way down, I felt as though we’d been transported to another planet. If you want to feel like you’re the last person standing, this is where you go: complete isolation. It ignites a kind of out of body desolation, for lack of a better explanation.

That feeling stirs your mind, at least it did mine. I’ve spent so much time trying to make sense of things, trying to find myself, when maybe I’m not ready to be found. Maybe, just maybe, I need to be lost – at least for now. Then again, what the hell do I know?

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