April 11: Day of rumors and truths
By Dan Morrison

Robert Nagle

A Moroccan had passed out, gone into shock, and lay in a coma. Not true.

Irishman Robert Nagle, running for the American group, had fainted at checkpoint #4 and also was in a coma. Also not true.

But on a day when more than 300 runners were attempting to race 50 miles across the desert — which would take even the swiftest of them several hours — the media, with way too much time on their hands, might be forgiven the occasional exaggeration and rumor-mongering.

With 50 miles to cover, the runners would traverse more sand dunes, cross rocky terrain, run through a large village — much to the surprise of the resident European tourists on holiday, cross a river, and run a gauntlet of several dozen of the local variety of the Artful Dodger.

A memorable day for all involved.

The day began with a staggered start, three groups departing an hour apart with the slowest group leaving first at 8:30. Many in the media corps leap-frogged ahead in their vehicles to checkpoint #3, where, to no one's surprise, Russian racer Andrei Derksen was out front, followed closely by Lahcen Ahansal of Morocco.

Then there was nothing much to do until the runners approached checkpoint #6, located at perhaps the most picturesque spot on the race course to date — a high bank just above a river and across from a walled village.

The fact that there was a dead camel lying nearby did nothing to spoil the scene, and served merely to reinforce the obvious point that the desert, although beautiful in its own fashion, can be a terribly unforgiving and inhospitable environment.

If the desert can kill a camel, it shouldn't have too much trouble with some guy in shorts and running shoes.

Many members of the media spent the afternoon shopping in a nearby village or sampling the local cuisine. How often do you get the chance to sup on dromedary served over steamed vegetables and rice? (Not bad, but a little too spicy.)

Although hidden from view, there was drama taking place on the course while many in the media relaxed. Runners were giving up the race, suffering heat exhaustion, even becoming delirious.

One Spanish photographer was assaulted by a berserk competitor when the former stopped to give aid to a runner laying face-down in the sand.

"Get away from him, you vulture!" warned the competitor as he grabbed the photographer by the shirt and threatened to perform a little free dental work.

A Moroccan runner ran out of food and begged for scraps from other runners as they passed by. When all refused to help, the Moroccan chose to fire off his emergency flare, which elicited help about 40 minutes later, and immediately eliminated him from the event.

While passing through a village, a Japanese runner was mobbed by a swarm of children who stripped him of his water bottles and everything else not safely secured inside his pack.

At checkpoint #4, experienced extreme racer Irishman Robert Nagle realized he was overheating, and chose to lay in the shade for an hour, quickly giving life to the rumor that Nagle was near death.

Frontrunner Derksen became irrational in the late afternoon and suddenly felt he was about to become lost forever in the vast desert. He began to weave in wide arcs to make sure he was on course, which added so much extra distance to his run that Ahansal passed him and crossed the finish line in 7 hours 27 seconds, more than an hour before the dazed Russian.

Cathy Tibbetts

"At sunset the light was beautiful," Tibbetts explained with a bit of a grin, "so we sat down on a little ridge overlooking the village and did our blisters together. It was wonderful."

It's the little things in life that count ...

When Frenchman Benoit Staqe crossed the finish line at 7 p.m. after spending 34 hours and 30 minutes in the desert, the competitors gathered to cheer him on. Staqe fell to his knees with great theatrical flourish just before the archway, then smiled and said, "I'll sprint to the finish!"

Sometimes these events need such levity to release the tension.

But this race is only a distraction, a lark to those like Staqe.

American runner Buddy Gadams, who, unlike the Frenchman, is serious about giving the race his best effort, spoke volumes when he stumbled across the finish just before midnight and gasped, "That was the worst day of my life."

Only later will he begin to remember it as also one of the best.

Dan Morrison is a freelance writer-photographer based in Austin, Texas.