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I woke up today with a very sore arm. No, I haven’t started a new weight-training regimen, and no, I haven’t joined a Qatari baseball team (that would be pretty entertaining, however). I went dune-bashing again yesterday despite my vow to never, ever do it again. I gripped the armrest of the car with all of my strength, as though it would somehow save me if we skidded off the side of a dune and toppled into the sand.

A few friends and I decided to check out the Inland Sea, a part of the Gulf entirely surrounded by sand dunes, and within sight of the Saudi Arabian border. It’s supposed to be Qatar’s most beautiful natural sight. Since you have to drive off-road to get there, we booked a trip with a guide company. Otherwise, we would’ve been very, very lost.

Before booking, I told our guide, Naseeb, that we did not want to go dune-bashing. For me, one dune-bashing experience was quite enough. “No problem, no problem,” he said.

The morning began ominously; we left in the middle of one of Doha’ infamous dust-storms. The country was covered in what appeared to be an inscrutable fog; really, it’s sand and dust from the dunes. We arrived in the desert at about 11am, squinting and blocking our faces from the sharp, sandy wind. Since my friends wanted to go dune bashing, I thought they’d be able to go for a few minutes, and then pick me up so we could all drive to the Inland Sea together. Turns out you have to drive through the dunes to get to the Inland Sea. Figures.

For the second time, I found myself gripping the side of an SUV while our driver whipped and careened through the dunes. How far did we have to go? I asked him. About forty-five minutes, he responded.

We sped through the sand at highway speeds, spun and slid down steep drops, and even caught some air as we zig-zagged through moguls. It. Was. Terrifying. You will never know true fear until you feel your car become almost completely vertical, or until you are genuinely confused as to why it isn’t flipping over. In many ways, dune-bashing defies physics. When it starts to follow the laws of science—that’s when you should really be scared.

Anyway, we made it to the Inland Sea. Despite the dust and wind, it was breathtaking. We waved hello to Saudi Arabia, and waded out in the cool, clear water. For me, the temperature felt perfect. My friends complained that it was “freezing.” After you swim in Lake Michigan, most other bodies of water feel pretty warm.

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