Stage 1. Camp to check point one.

Within minutes you could feel the heat. We immediately knew the unflattering desert hats we were wearing would be our greatest ally.
Under foot the crunch of the Brandberg gravel plains beat out a rhythm that would become all too familiar for the next 24 hours.
Morale was high as one by one we picked out the tin route markers placed on high ground through the first section that initially ran along the side of a dirt road before turning west along a dry river bed.
Ahead of us the field began to pull away, creating a scattered convoy of individuals tackling the ultimate challenge.
Around us the desert and the mountains provided this stunning backdrop to the singular battles we were all to fight.
We quickly realised that the satellite image map presented us with a misleading picture of our mission. It did nothing to capture the distances or the terrain we had to cover on this journey in an inferno.
We quickly lost sight of the other runners and alone we began to tick off the kilometres. We saw desert hares, rats and giant insects and away to our right we would catch glimpses of the race support vehicles who were monitoring our progress.
Our first section was marked with happy conversation, regular stops for pictures and to appreciate the magnificence of our surrounds. For the moment we were pain free but already the distance we had ahead was becoming a reality.
The first sight of check point one led us to a feeling that was to become familiar over the next day. The last kilometre before we rested was murderous.
We arrived in good spirits and quickly went into our routine of foot care, water replenishment, and on this occasion cooking a rehydrated meal on a hastily put together field stove, to refuel our bodies. Spaghetti bolognaise with extra salt.