The Gobi March
Ying Wa College, Yan Mong Ho, Fiction: Group 3
T
he red brown small hills kept on rolling at me like waves in the ocean. The cool air
sprinted pass me with a natural smell in them, slicing my face with their ice swords.
A thin sheet of cloud covered the sky and athletes who participated in the Gobi March
started off together under its shelter, chatting. If someone looked at us from above, he or
she would mistake us as ants marching on dry soil.
Feet going up and down, hands going forward and backwards, the heart squeezing and
releasing… Yet, with every part of my body working differently, in different motions, different
functions… My mouth and tongue easily continued to work as a team-so that I could talk with the
young man next to me. I always thought that the human body is marvelous.
“What brings you here?” The man beside me asked suddenly. The distances between athletes
were starting to stretch now, and we were almost the fastest.
I didn’t reply.
“I myself want a challenge.” He continued, “I have always loved challenges, I finished a
marathon when I was thirteen.”
I glanced at him-He was an American young man with curly hair and a mustache, wearing a
yellow t-shirt with a tight-fit underneath, black short pants, and a stuffed backpack on his back. I
myself wore something similar to his. I still didn’t reply.
“The Gobi March is a self-supported race” He said, “and a very challenging, dangerous one,
many people say it’s reckless.”
“And expensive too.” I helped him finish.
“Oh yes, that is the most important reason of all.” Alex snickered a bit.
And by the way, his name was Alex.
We continued marching, listening to the cry of the Gobi. Rock formations were starting
appear, light brown rocks in different sizes were dug in the ground with bushy greens around it;
people call it the mysterious stone valley of Bortala. I could feel the temperature rising and the
wind slowing down as the sun climbing higher and higher to the sky, the weather today was so
fine. Then we started to climb it.
I placed my foot on a sturdy rock, and then suddenly strong wind blew against me with such
force, my whole body leaned backwards. And before I realized, my foot slipped and my whole
body fell backwards, “I need some first aid!” I thought. Then a firm hand caught me just in time.
It pulled me back up, it probably saved my life.
“Thanks! You have good reflexes!” I exclaimed, panting.
“Nah… They are just fast enough to save you!” Alex said in a joking tone.
I smiled frankly, and wobbly stood up. A smile outside, but knifed inside; moments of fear,
moments of ramming heart beats, thirty years old memories carved in me still ached…
… I was walking on a desert, with my mom and dad, we were going to our new home at
somewhere in the Gobi desert where there were adequate rainfall to support cropping and a school
nearby for me. A camel was helping us carrying the luggage in front of me; my parents were
both holding my sweaty hands next to me. Endless sand waves appeared before me, it was very
dangerous to travel in a desert with a child who was just eight years old. But in order to reach
