As we left our tents and headed out of our camp and into the dark morning, we were surprised to see a pack of 40 or so camels seated on the ground. Our program director had told us we would "wake up early and see the sunrise." But she didn't say anything about mounting any animals. Some of the camels were chewing cud or some leaves when we approached, which didn't make me very comfortable, since I know that camels can spit very far (which they love to do). Most of the AU students were eyeing these "horses of the desert" suspiciously. One by one, the Berbers began taking students and plopping them on top of the seated camels. There were five camels seated in a line in front of me; I sat down on top of the third camel and waited for further instructions.

The saddles on top of the camels were these large, triangle-shaped contraptions draped across either side of the camel, with a metal "T" mounted in the front. The saddles were covered by blankets or mini-rugs. I could see some desert shrub leaves and greens shoved in between the blanket and the saddle of the camel in front of me. The leaves provide extra padding and can also be used to feed or persuade a stubborn camel to keep moving ahead, if needed. Some of the camels were already acting up when we arrived, so I kept wondering whether we would need to resort to "carrot on a string" tactics to urge along these restless beings.

After everyone mounted their camels, the Berbers then went down the lines of camels. They tapped the first camel in our mini-caravan to signal that it was time to rise. The camel rose, hind legs first, and Liz, the first in our line, went flying up into the air. Luckily, she held on tight. Then, the camel rose on its front legs until it was perfectly upright. Then Marissa's camel rose in the same manner, and then mine, until all the camels were upright and all five AU students were holding on tight. And it was necessary to hold on tight. If you've never ridden a camel, you should know that it feels like riding on a rocky boat. Nobody got motion sickness, but every step the camels took in the soft Sahara sand was another lurch forward. Going downhill was worse. When the camels reached the dunes and started trudging downhill, I fell against the metal "T" and felt like I was losing control. My camel also had this bad habit of wanting to run ahead of the other camels in front of it (Just my luck that I get the camel who wants to win the Olympic 100-meter dash). But since all the camels are tethered together, this complicates things. Fortunately, I didn't fall off and my camel seemed content to just poke its nose into the saddle of the camel in front of it and slightly molest Marissa. No harm, no foul. I eventually relaxed and just tried to enjoy the desert in the dark, lit only by the stars. It was fun, and I eventually got to sense when and in which direction my camel was going to move as I rode.

Here is a picture I borrowed from Marissa, showing us in the camel caravan.

And this is one borrowed from Jessica that captures some good silhouettes of us against the early morning sky, riding our camels through the desert.

Just before the sun rose, we stopped at a very tall dune and, one by one, dismounted, starting with the first camel (front legs first, followed by hind legs) and continuing down the line. There, we climbed up the dune and watched the beautiful sunrise. It was fun running up the dune, but it was very steep and I still found it difficult (though less so than my fellow participants) to run through the sand despite having run cross-country for many years. I would like to see a state meet cross-country course on a sand dune. Now THAT would be a challenge!

After staying there for about an hour, we trudged downhill and mounted the camels once more before returning to our camp. I really liked riding the camel, but I think I prefer more modern forms of transportation, which can at least ensure a smooth ride and prevent "saddle soreness" from setting in afterward.