Turn Up the Heat

The IGO Adventures Morocco Challenge puts strength and endurance to the test in a gruelling multi-discipline journey across the rocks and wadis of the Agafay Desert to the Atlas Mountains

Words: Hugh Francis Anderson

It’s 40°C, shimmering hot air rises from the moon-like terrain around me like a mirage, and my legs pump frantically at the pedals of my bike. I look up to see the Atlas Mountains rise endlessly on the horizon. Sweat cascades off my face and pours onto the sand around my tyres. I’m in the Agafay Desert in Morocco, on the first of the four stages that made up the 2017 IGO Adventures Morocco Challenge. “What have I got myself into?” I ask myself.

I first encountered IGO Adventures back in 2016 when I took part in the inaugural N60° – The Norwegian Challenge, a four-day, four-discipline quadrathlon through the mountains of Norway during winter. Though the structure of IGO’s offerings has since changed, it was on that journey that I experienced the three pillars of IGO Adventures: lifechanging adventure, wilderness and camaraderie. I also made lifelong friends, and when I heard that the team at IGO HQ was establishing a Moroccan event, I invited one of those friends, Will, to join me.

Over four days, we would cycle, run and kayak more than 150km, from the depths of the desert to one of the highest mountains in the Atlas range – all in blistering heat. Thankfully, as I discovered on the Norwegian journey, competition plays a substantially smaller part in IGO Adventures events than you might imagine. The expedition is designed “to allow ordinary people to go through a journey of personal achievement and discovery in the most magical way possible,” explains founder Bobby Melville, “while trying to bring the entire group together for the feeling of teamwork and camaraderie.”

Our Moroccan adventure begins at Terre des Etoiles, a luxurious desert camp in Marrakesh. Here, we spend two days acclimatising and taking part in pre-event training. Before long, race day dawns. We clamber into our cycling gear, double-check we have enough water, electrolytes and energy gels, and make our way to the start line. Today will see us cycle 50km through the desert, rising gradually into the foothills of the Atlas Mountains before settling down for the night on the banks of Lake Lalla Takerkoust. Explorer and endurance athlete George Bullard, chief IGO ambassador, sounds the horn and we rise out of our saddles to charge across the start line.

Within minutes the route takes us into a sand-filled wadi (dry river bed), and people begin to tumble. As the heat rises, the only solace from the penetrating scorch is to pedal faster in order to feel the breeze against my face; it may feel like a hair dryer, but it’s better than nothing. My legs begin to burn as the lactic acid attacks my thighs. I wince with every uphill pedal stroke, but eventually we begin to descend, and Lake Lalla Takerkoust appears before us. In little over three hours, I have made it through the first stage.

In the brief moments between pangs of agony, I notice just how dramatic the scenery is

We’re up before dawn on day two, and the cool 25°C is a delight. Today we will kayak around Lake Lalla Takerkoust to various checkpoints before orienteering on foot to the next camp. Will and I grab our paddles, race down to the lake, and jump aboard our two-man kayak. With quick, powerful strokes, we career around the lake in little over an hour.

Back on dry land, we change into our running shoes, pick up a map and a compass, and head off in the direction of the Atlas Mountains. With no route planned out for us, we must find our own way to the checkpoints, and eventually our second camp. Alas, before long we’ve lost our bearings – and find a pair of fellow participants in the same predicament. In true IGO spirit, we pledge to stay together and work as a four-man team for the day; over the next nine and a half hours, we travel some 45km upwards, through arid fields, and across the eversteepening foothills. The 37°C heat penetrates deep and works hard to defeat us, but we eventually make it into our second camp. We devour a locally prepared tagine and fall asleep to the sound of musicians performing traditional Moroccan songs. It’s magical.

I arise exhausted on the penultimate day. The heat and duration of the previous day has taken its toll, and today will be no easier. With 45km of uphill mountain biking, taking us deep into the heart of the Atlas Mountains, there’s a feeling of nervousness in camp. Before long we’re on our bikes and hammering up the rocky tracks. With numerous mechanical issues along the way, I feel my energy levels quickly fade, and by the end of the day, I’ve collapsed three times with heat exhaustion.

Every participant that passes me stops to offer hydration and energy bars; not one leaves me alone, and I praise their resilience. In the brief moments between pangs of agony, I notice just how dramatic the scenery is, and how much it has changed. Two days ago, we were in the desert, with nothing but sand, rock and sky around us; now we’re on forest tracks that cut their way through jagged mountains. I’m mesmerised.

When I finally approach the finish line, all those already through clamber down the rocky slope to cheer me on. Later that evening, as we sit in our camp consuming rehydrated meals, I look at the mountain peaks in the distance. Tomorrow we will climb up one of those mountains to the final camp in Oukaïmeden, incidentally also Africa’s highest ski resort. I find it almost impossible to fathom that last statement.

We rise early on the final morning, and although everybody is exhausted, there are only smiles to be seen on the faces around the camp. Our last leg may only be 15km, but it will be no small feat. Will and I charge off at a run along the mountain pass, before cutting sharply into the valley to begin the climb. Before long, we’re tracking along a wadi and stumbling on the loose rock beneath our feet. Eventually, we break away from the river bed and head directly up the face of the mountain. The sun burns hard onto the backs of our necks and we pray for a breeze. On any other day, this climb would have been manageable, but after the three days we’ve just endured, it becomes increasingly challenging to stop our muscles from seizing.

Eventually we reach the summit, and we can see our final camp and the finish line 2km away on a plateau below Oukaïmeden. We charge on for the last leg of this stage. As we collapse across the line to the cheering of family and friends, Will and I embrace one another with pride. Three years ago, we met as competitors on the first IGO Adventures event, and here we are, having just completed our second event as teammates. If that doesn’t attest to the very spirit of what IGO Adventures represents, then I don’t know what does.