A chilly early morning, piercing wind, pitch-black darkness and a winding mountain road made of rubble and sand. The motorbike wheels kept sliding along loose stones.
When one camel took off, all others followed. The camel riders turned back every few seconds, as if to smirk, to make sure that other competitors were eating the sand that their camels kicked up. Each man with a whip in hand, legs flailing sideways, airborne above his camel’s hump. Sure it was a false start, but, those who were already ahead didn’t care. Adrenaline took over. It was their time for glory.