Have Itch, Will Travel

It was another race, this time against the setting sun. We climbed Elim Dune steadily, slowly, though our hearts beat fast with the effort. "You realise we're doing exactly what Gabriel told us not to do?" puffed Rob when we stopped for a breath. Our guide, waiting at the foot of dune, warned us that we had started too late to reach the summit for sunset, and that to pursue the top would result in disappointment after disappointment. It was practically a dare, and we set out in earnest. Gabriel was right, though, because each time we reached the "summit", we discovered a point still higher. "There!" I could see a handful of people in the distance, sitting and taking selfies. Surely that was the summit! We made a quick assessment of the sun's position and ventured on, finally reaching the summit just before the sun disappeared. We watched it with a sense of accomplishment, and then turned around. We had come a long way. It was now a race against th...

Cold, dry sand poured into my shoe, cramping my toes as they filled the spaces between with every step. My quick breaths were coming out in little puffs, keeping time with the uphill march. In the shadow of my face, the dense mist formed dew drops on my eyebrow and eyelashes. I was half frozen, and half glowing with warmth. My peripheries were numb, as was my shaded right half. But internally, I was on fire, my lungs and legs burning as they pushed against the soft sand only to gain an inch. I turned my focus from my disappearing feet and looked ahead at the line of hikers ascending Dune 45 in single file, as if balancing on the edge of the dune. We were all steady in pace, occasionally glancing at the lightening sky. Soon, the sun would break from behind the mountain and chase away the fog we were rapidly rising from. We were racing the sun to the summit. This was the way of Namibia . You were either racing or chasing, or endlessly waiting. "We must be fast with breakfast,...