Bad Casof Ingrown Hair

ATLAS'09. DAY 4. Cathedral Rock (MESSTEFRAN) - AL-Ksiba.

STEP 4. Cathedral Rock (MESSTEFRAN) - AL-Ksiba.
280 kms.

That night we slept like logs beside the river Assif Melloul in Gite d'etape de La Cathedrale in Imi n Warg. A gite d'etape is a kind of shelter prepared for tourists. Are generally well signposted when you cross the people and us, we casually this by Night: http://www.ismalar.org/rutas/servicios.php?id=14 #


get out of bed this morning ... could not. At normal stiffness had to add those of the triceps and biceps, pushing both crushed by the snowdrifts. We started to put on the armor, I took time to renew the strips and tapes to protect the wound that I was doing on the left instep. Then I pulled on socks soaking wet from the previous two days (not carrying spare, remember that we planned to have returned to base Imilchil the day before) and we got on the bikes. Before out a fellow who was staying at the hostel and told us that the path we wanted to go (through direct Imilchil Anergui) was impracticable because of the river following the course of the planned track was quite grown up. Still decided to try and pull up track following the course of Assif Melloul through a canyon:

Bridge sobfre the Melloul.

After about 10 kms we had to turn around, as the track continued just above the river bed, that is, the track was possible only in times of drought. Refuted the way to find asphalt and headed by an endless road that skirted the swamp of days prior to the gas station Ouaouizarht. We were in the km 80 to about 800 meters. Look at the profile of what lay ahead of us and you will understand why over the same day we helarnos suffocating heat or cold.

We left the tarmac and get back to track. The first approach to reach Imilchil had been frustrated by excessive river flow, but Amarok improvised a second alternative route. Another time we were at these summits:

Altiplano.

The snowy landscape with the sun was to be astonished, and if you go on a bike up even more:

Great day.

That day we reached the 2500 meters high, is still continuing as usual. About 160 km begin a descent through muddy caminuchos soon became suitable only for pedestrian paths, donkeys and motorbikes. We crossed a very poor village and continue along the trail fording rivers of rigor:

video without end.

The trail was getting more entertaining:

sandy trail.

The photo stream we crossed a few times. A guy gave us a wire getting in the water several times to show the depth of each ferry. This stream was of a pull switch giving gas, fortunately. The trail narrowed. Here I was about to start hitting the bags the stone blocks that lined the path. And you forget you are carrying.

Beware saddlebags.

At one point the trail dove into the creek and we doubt of whether it would continue or not. Amarok, using the lingo traveler-English English-French, began to ask a mother and daughter were there and came to the conclusion that there was a "bypass" that uphill overcome the obstacle. Shortly after horsemen mounted on donkeys we confirmed the existence of such a diversion and there we went. Trialed by sandy hills returned to the trail and wading:

Streams.

The thing went like: Path, soaking sporadic, some hamlet or dump as Taghzout. crosses dubious people out to help and guidance as soon as you astray .... at the end do not know who to believe, there are people who help in good faith, others will bundle, especially the kids.

The road increasingly blurred.

Imilchil was near, I estimate that about 50 kms. The proximity of our base camp and looking forward to it to rest, change clothes and recuperate blinded us and made a mistake that almost cost us a serious disappointment.
The muddy stream that had accompanied us during the last 10 kms disappeared and we came face to face with a mighty river and agitated waters. Beautiful, yes, but we had to wade intermittently. Several children and an adult pointed to the show and we are willing to offer, we are about to ritual and routine to cross rivers to spray and pray. Then the issue becomes complicated and Berber gets into the river to tell us the least bad area. When we saw that the water came almost to the very in some places began to see the ugliest thing normal, but I, upset by the closeness of Imilchil, took chest and went straight to get soaked. The three crossed the river with my bike 2 times, but here was when we started to see the ears of the wolf. The following questions posed quite serious wading, and John and went to make Berber gorge upstream to see what awaited us, lest it be that we were playing for nothing type.

Exploring the strait.

After a while back and amarok, with a face, it assumes that have to turn around, that the videos are even worse following and we have made a preposterous heroics with my bike across to that place. We turn my DRZ and we conjure to return without that wrecked the bike. While the first ford crossing, but the second and final would assume our baptism in the Atlas, and not just metaphorical. A point to get across the engine bay, for whatever reason (entered water filter housing, a cable got wet, I was clumsy with the clutch current ....), tipped the bike, sliding amarok , Berber and I endured, but the current sweeps us, amarok recovers and we get to stop the bike in extremis (a few meters from the river swept by a cascade). In those seconds, crossed my mind at breakneck speed film of the 4 day trips and more likely to escape painful walk from the spot after leaving the bike submerged at the bottom of that river. We take heart of grace, the bike and try to straighten it out in front against the current of 3, but the water was stronger than us and dragged downstream. We understood that we had to give up or not go out of there, step by step and joining forces reached the shore. Now all that remained was to assess damage and see if that tore or touched overnight in a wild place:

Drying clothes and bike.

We put dry losrestos the wreck: mobiles, cameras, passports, documentation, all of our fortune in dirhams, boots, socks, etc. Dismantle bags, seat, storage and access to the spark plug. We empty the float chamber just in case and it appears that the water there had not arrived. We give the starter a few times, mounted spark plug and try to boot, but no way. I wonder how long it would repeat this cycle start and rest, always careful not to exhaust the battery, maybe a half hour, but eventually the engine began to give some explosions and ended up starting, yuhuu, when collecting photography:

ripped!

By the way, if someone sees the photos and believes he would find out there, I guarantee you is wrong. River was a very brave, capable of carrying 3 adults and a motorcycle loaded with 140 kilos, with an irregular bottom V-shaped stones in motion rather large and well-rounded slippery and a remarkable depth. Add to this that you are tired and do not know very well the field, the dip in the medium term is warranted. Was it a folly?


All this time we were accompanied by the Berbers, who just wanted a cigarette, and 4 lads that tireless, well-expected buestro our resurrection or neglect. Here in the picture when still did not know that the DRZ tear:

Pending.

Before leaving presented them with some mint gum. You should have seen the face of one of the boys when he noticed in the mouth that burst of freshness characteristic of these holes. No doubt it was the first time I tasted one in your life.


This photo I fell into grace. Do not know if his intention was to get some bauble or employ any of our belongings in an unguarded moment. In this life you have lived in this remote place, 2000 meters high and barefoot.

Berber.

to us that day, wet and not eating well, we can only undo the sandy road that path with its corresponding wading, of course, and find somewhere to get dry, sleep and be nurtured. For the second consecutive day Imilchil return was impossible, the third day of heavy snowfalls, and the room for excess water. At the moment we had to re-ascend to 2500 meters to cool a bit more (km 190) and rethink the route. In the photo, Amarok, the genius of gps, seeking out less complicated:

again in the highlands.

port descend the right track quickly and after a few kilometers of asphalt, near dusk we reach Al = Ksiba, big city with many amenities. After 280 kms with different penalties just want to sleep, but the only hotel open in the town tell us that there is no room. We sent to another shelter but it is closed. We return to the original hotel. Amarok insists and finally a Moroccan who speaks English said that we accept. Identified as motard and understand our situation, we also explains that we can leave our Scooters ¨ ¨ in the hotel car park. The room, cutrecilla, as always. For dinner, amarok and I, we get under his belt size XL paths Russian salads more chicken with potatoes and beer in the country (not often have it in many places). And hence, the bed. Another day how are you two last and do not know if we had endured. Outclassed and 1000 kms in 4 days accumulated.

And to finish this day, a photo of my bike, which I almost lost submerged

in this river: