Morning Routine
On day six, I woke slightly before my alarm, which was set for 0600. Despite the cold of the night, I’d been cosy. My carry-mat and camp mattress were doing their job, insulating my body from the cold ground, and my sleeping bag and traditional Arab Fawa coat would keep the cold air off my skin. Additionally, a set of thermal underwear, a pair of sweatpants, thick socks, a UF Pro hoody and a woolly hat substituted for the pyjamas I wouldn’t normally wear.
However, the downside to staying warm at night was the transition to riding clothes each morning in sub-zero temperatures. No sooner was the sleeping bag unzipped than the cosiness was gone entirely. On the upside, this was day six, so I had my routine just about sorted: unzip the sleeping bag, strip from the waist down and quickly reach for my cycle shorts, then lie on my back and pull them on, and in the torch and headlight in my tent, locate my riding socks (which were actually skiing socks) and pulled them over my rapidly cooling feet. Once again, I’d then lie on my back and lift up my arse while I pulled on my jodhpurs. I could then sit up, put on and lace up my Reebok ultra-light boots, which the rider team universally wore (and, by the way, are excellent boots!).
With my body once again protected from the cold I could put my night clothing into my kit bag and roll up my sleeping bag before squeezing it into its cover, which I assumed the makers had intentionally made one size too small just to irritate me. With my kit as packed as well as it could be under the torchlight in my tent, it was time to unzip the door. Just as it would be for all mornings, the cold night air rushed into my tent.
Now, on my knees in my tent, I’d shift all my kit outside onto the desert floor - my kit bag and non-riding kit to the left, my riding kit to the right. Once the big stuff was outside, I’d crawl out of my tent, put on my Fawa coat, and ensure my tent light and anything else was out of my tent and put into my kit bag.
I’d then clean my teeth, pick up some wet wipes and look over to the direction of the windbreak that was our privacy screen on three sides of the hole-in-the-ground toilet. Sometimes there was a hole already dug, sometimes not, but I invariably reflected on how quickly I’d reverted to “living-in-the-field” with no running water and ablutions to match. One vital consideration was cleanliness in the “bottom area”, not least because, much to the amusement of the entire team, I’d picked up a butt cheek blister on day one, which was being patched up every night by Ged, our brilliant medic. That said, nothing Ged could do would take away the discomfort of the blister (only time would do that), but it was up to me to ensure it didn’t get infected in these most unhygienic conditions. To that end, following a good cleanup with wet-wipes, ample amounts of Sudocrem and Vaseline had to be applied before repositioning my cycle shorts and jodhpurs. After filling the hole with sand in lieu of a flush, I’d walk back to my bag to pack my creams and use alcohol cleanser to clean my hands.
By this time, it was about 0630 and there were just the first threads of red light on the desert horizon. Simon, the cook, was typically the first to wake up in the camp, and he’d get water on the boil. So, by the time the riders gathered around the fire to stay warm, hot teas and coffees were gratefully ready to be brewed. Craig, Tommo, James and I would then either exchange views on the world, our ailments or chat about the day ahead and any potential pitfalls that the day might bring. Simon would then have prepared oatmeal or eggs, but whatever it was always tasted good simply because we all knew “calories was our currency” and whether riding or fending off the cold we were burning a lot of those.
By the time first light came, I’d walk to the camels and find one of my two for riding that day. This was day six, so the camels had gotten to know their riders and were remarkably calm compared to the first couple of days. I’d always greet my camels by talking gently and letting them sniff my hand. Camels have an exceptional sense of smell and good eyesight, so by letting them sniff my hand, they would not only confirm that I was the same guy as yesterday but also know that I would not harm or hassle them. Only with one exception did this not work with my camels in Saudi when Shagra tried to take a chunk out of my back when I was positioning his shedad. Luckily for me, he got a mouth full of Fawa coat and not back flesh. He also got a decent thump on his neck, so he wouldn’t try that again. However, today, I would ride Supra, who was not the most comfortable to ride but had a nice disposition. Like Shagra, he was a monster of a camel, much bigger than any I’d ridden on camel treks in the UAE.
While keeping quiet and calm, I’d gently lay three blankets over him - one in front of, one over, and one behind his hump. Two of them would protect his back from the frame of the shedad, and the forward blanket would stop my leg and boot from rubbing against him when we were trotting. I’d position the frame over his rather substantial hump and adjust it to try to make sure it was horizontal. Then I’d go to his right side and push the three girths under his body, which was insulated from the cold sand by the airgap created by his kneeling position and anatomically designed breastplate.
With the girths shoved under him, I could go back to his left side and pull them through. I’d then take the main girth and, using the thin ropes attached, loop it around a retaining ring on the shedad straps to form a rope-pulley and pull this girth as tight as my strength and pulley- physics would permit. I’d tie it off in a triple knot and then turn my attention to the rear girth, which was a soft length of nylon cloth, designed to be gentle for his “male-bits”, and pull that up through the rear ring on the shedad frame and pull it reasonably tight. Sometimes the camel would protest a little, but sometimes not. I could then move to the forward thin girth, loop it around the main girth securing ring, and pull it tight. Then I’d go back to the rear girth and wholly tighten it. If I’d got it right, the shedad frame would not move on the camel; and would be horizontal. If I’d got it slightly wrong, I would discover the tilt forward or backward as soon as the ride began that day.
With the camel now padded against the shedads wooden frame, it was time to organise padding for me. This consisted of a folded blanket, my pad with saddlebags, an office seat foam and synthetic sheep skin (to stop rubbing). The whole setup took about 15 minutes. Once done, I’d walk back to my tent, in what now was daylight, to strip down to the waist and put on my back support belt, Arab kandura, traditional waistcoat, and shemagh headdress. I also had a Sam-Brown leather belt to attach my VHF radio. Richard B would have charged this overnight and left it by my bag along with the Nortac Defence Blue Force tracker beacon that I’d carry so that Sue W in the UK could track our progress and keep an eye on any emerging crisis.
By this time the rest of the camp was a flurry of activity. Everything that had come out of the Defenders the previous evening was now going back in or on top of them. Each rider had been assigned a support team member who would pack up their tent and ensure the bags were put in the right Defenders, Oliver W would help me with this throughout, which saved me a great deal of time and hassle and, to this day he has no idea how much I appreciated his help.
By 0745 all the riders and camels were typically ready. The camels that wouldn’t be ridden that day were tied to the riders’ camels. The camels, not carrying the weight of a rider, could look forward to a relatively easy day, not knowing it would be their turn tomorrow.
At 0755, I’d make the five-minute warning call on the radio and would have told the riders if we were going to walk or ride out of camp. This morning, Day 6, we rode out of camp. We had left the Prince Mohammed bin Salman Royal Reserve behind us and had one day’s ride to reach the substantially larger King Salman Abdulaziz Royal Nature Reserve. As we climbed the first ridge onto a plateau, not knowing the terrain ahead, I noticed a plain-clothed Saudi in a truck was trailing and staying in sight of us. This was the first fallout from the Saudi TV interviews we’d had the night before. However, for now concern and concentration had to be getting through the day ahead to Camp Six.
