tents,
luminum
grated ominously against the cliff.
Iy a thin sheet of nylon separated us from the cutting wind and the reat void of space that surrounded us.
nd that like the broom of Allah, sweeps the Sahara. While sculpting dunes, it chokes the air with
The night was unreal. The Harmattan IS a winter .. dust. All night long, the Harmattan tattered us like torn sails. Our
luminum ledges grated and ponged against the cliff and the gear which our ledges hung danced with sparks from the friction. The
nd was so strong, our two-man ledges were repeatedly lifted and then lifted and dropped again. Like the moaning of
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