At about 2:30 in the morning, the rest of the Moroccrew roll in. It wasn’t smooth sailing. We had a driver lined up to bring them to the hotel, but they never saw him. We would never learn what went wrong. He waited for them for hours, but at the wrong terminal. Was he given their flight information or wasn’t he? Above all, why weren’t we given his contact information?

It’s not a good sign of things to come. On top of that, the hotel has reservations for us for six nights. We’re only staying one. Another bad sign.

But at least the gang’s all here! We have three new arrivals, all from the Peru Crew of 2017. Nate the Generous did almost all the legwork planning this thing, which is the norm for him. He did the same with our fantastic trip to Peru, so Morocco is promising even if our driver and our hotel haven’t quite got things squared away.

Sam the Mighty is the fittest person I know. She coaches Crossfit and runs marathons on mountain trails. Sam also gave me the best advice I could possibly have gotten for my big rides in Tasmania and New Zealand. I’m no endurance athlete and I don’t know a thing about how to plan a diet for biking all day every day. Sam to the rescue! “You’re in luck,” she said. “The best thing for you to eat is already your favorite food: peanut M&Ms. A little sugar, a little fat, a little protein. Just what you need.”

That’s what I told people she told me, anyway. In Morocco she corrected me: “I’d have worked some broccoli in there too.”

Sam with mountain man Mohammed at the summit of Toubkal (13’640’). Neither of them is tired.

Misty the Iron was my triathlon partner in Hawai’i, back when we were capable of (or even interested in!) such things. I spent most of my grad school days rock climbing or scuba diving, and Misty is the only person I did both of those with. (She and Nate were core members of our climbing crew, along with Peru Crew member Matt and our beloved, dearly departed Macavan.) Misty is tough as nails, she’s lived all over the planet, and on top of that she’s a phenomenal cook. Really the very best kind of travel buddy.

I do have a picture of Misty waving next to a sign that says Misty Waves, but my compooter can’t find it. Anyway, that sign is in South Africa, about as far from the High Atlas as you can get and still be on the continent.

Last but not least, the only one none of us had met before: our driver, Abdul the Unrelenting. (I’d say the Tireless but you want your chauffeur to have tires.) The little snafu at the airport proved not to be his fault; in fact, I think he’s more a victim of it than we were, since it cost him money. Abdul lifts weights, takes selfies, takes more selfies, carts us all over the country, and takes even more selfies. He’s a conscientious driver, and when Sam decided she needed a workout on the hottest day in Earth’s recorded history, Abdul took her to the gym. (With Nate and Morgan too! Don’t ask me what possessed them to go lift weights on a 117° day in a confined space with no air conditioning. Misty, Nats, and I found a swimming pool, like civilized people.)

Philosofiction

Morocco, Day 2, Part I: Cast and Crew