Life-changing journey with mad ponies and madder friends

Day 1
We start in a storm of dust and within three kilometres I'm already among the last few riders. This feels like a disaster and, although I can pick out one or two behind me, I’ve lost all of my teammates and the riders in front are growing smaller by the minute. This is purgatory. It’s a race and my daughter’s pony Ellen could beat this thing on three legs. I keep reminding myself we still have more than 1,000km to go and slow and steady wins the race. That depresses me even more.

I’m catching one or two who have gone off too fast and their ponies are jacking it in. First is Loden, the bearded American who is an old hand having ridden in a previous race. He looks nearly as jacked off as his pony but raises a smile as I pass. I’ve let my pony go at its own pace and it seems to be paying off as there is another at a walk ahead and we keep going.

I’ve joined up with Rosie Bathurst on a tired pony and she's just taking her time. I figure if we stay together for the moment then our ponies can egg each other on. Then soon enough I see ‘Fred’ – the codename given to Sheikh Fahad to conceal his identity – and Gareth and things are back to normal.