Camels

Camels are goofy animals. Their faces are incongruous combinations of Betty Boop eyelashes and the thick lipped, dopey grin of an overweight Hannah-Barbera sidekick. They slurp up any desert brush with thorns on it and chew on it all night long- a sound like boots walking in wet gravel. They never move too quick and can take a nap anytime, anywhere. People rag on them for their smell, but no water means no bathing, and after four daysin the desert we were in no position to point fingers. As they say down South, "God made the dirt and the dirt don't hurt."

The desert was peaceful but far from empty. Everyday we ran accross shepards who wander the parched terrain with their flocks until the rains arrive and wash them back to their furrowed, expectant fields. Some have been wandering for four years now. When the rains return, the deset soil is said to turn rich and black and produce enough hair oil seed to put Soul Glow out of business.

We passed the cool evening hours playing dune to dune frisbee. The desert is the perfect place for frisbee. No wind, no obstacles, no interruptions, and no shoes necessary. The stars and moon are so bright that you can even play at night. If you ever go, take a frisbee. Sure, sure most people will make a lot of noise about water and sun protection, but their priorities are all backwards. A good, heavy frisbee will make your trip memorable.