2018 - Big Red Pigs in Kenya

[Osadabwa]

Happy New Year, Bikers!  :snorting:

It’s a New Year, and in Kenya the Pigs are on the move! Over lunch, Panic and were talking about biking, as is our wont, and how it would be good to get in a nice 4-day trip sometime in the next couple of weeks. But before that, we decided we’d better go down into the ol’ Rift Valley to check out the goings on.

The Chinese railway is making a lot of new roads in what used to be wide expanses of bush. It’s ugly, but some of the roads are kind of fun to ride, so we decided to go explore. We found a serious construction site in progress, and for whatever reason, were allowed by the local askari to ride right through the middle of it. It must be the bikes. Anyway, it’s all pretty impressive and sad, knowing how horribly expensive it is and how little chance there is (think, snowball in hell) that it’ll ever pay for itself let alone turn a profit. Say it with me folks: corruption kills.

Above: Atop one of the SGR tunnels looking back up the valley that just a year ago was only bush
Anyway, we ogled the railway and then hit the pipeline down to Ewaso Kedong for our customary tea and mandazi. It was fun picking our way over the babyheads, and there had been rain so there were some interesting puddles to be negotiated as well.

Above: Heading over to Ewaso Kedong for a spot of tea… not taking the direct route

After tea, we decided to keep the challenges coming, and aimed for babyhead hill, a rather tricky bit of track that is good training in case we end up going to the far North in the coming year. The rocks I encountered in Logipi are similar, and practicing riding them is what I had in mind (in case I get back up there). We slid around on the main track awhile in new mud, blasted like maniacs on the dry road, and pulled off down toward babyhead hill when I looked to the right and said to myself: Hey, that looks like a road.

Above: Leaving Ewaso was muddy… pretty rare lately

Above: Those are the tracks of a guy (me) who nearly saw his ass

Above: Panic ripping up a drier section of road

To be continued...

 

[Osadabwa]

... continued

The new road we discovered was stony and basic, a bulldozer track that had been driven on a few times recently. It descended into a valley we had never explored before which had some very high and steep cliffside views. Of course, the road is primarily used by our asshole friends the charcoal burners who had been up to their usual crap, cutting down what’s left of the bush for a few bucks. We kept saying: This place looks beautiful… for now. For now there are still a few mature trees.

Above: Posing with a big pile of ready bagged charcoal ready to be driven to Nairobi

Above: Charcoal being prepared… the asshole doing it must be slinking around nearby

Above: Never been in this section before, and it was beautiful. Not quite unspoiled, but less spoiled.

We were in uncharted territory and looking for a way either up or down the valley. First, we tried going up, where a tantalizing bit of road could be seen in the distance, but there was a stream of muddy water where the track looked to be. Next, we went down, but it eventually turned to impassable bush. We stopped for a quick bite to eat then retraced our steps a bit and stumbled upon the right track.

Above: First turn around…

Above: A nice lunch spot – check the overhanging shade tree

Above: Finally, on the right track

The track was on a shoulder within the valley but eventually switchbacked its way down to the valley floor where the same muddy river was flowing steadily along what appeared to be the road. We explored it a while but finally gave up, not keen to drown the bikes in a hidden muckhole. As we were about to bail out, we bumped into a guy who insisted there was a road and gave us some landmarks to look for. We tried again and were rewarded. The road cut through the bush away from the river, crossing back and forth but tending down toward the Najile-Oltepesi road.

Above: A nice little spot. Tall trees are so damn rare. I hate charcoal burners.

Above: On another day, that would probably be the road of choice

Above: We finally got on track, but still had to cross the dirty river in spots

Above: A pipe of crystal-clear water empties into the muddy stream… nice place to cool off… I suppose it’s supposed to continue onwards but you know, here in Kenya we’re not big on maintenance

Above: Another pipe of fresh water for irrigation… if somebody hooks it up.

The track eventually came roaring out onto the Najile-Oltepesi road which we blasted. A quick stop for a coldish Krest at a roadside duka and we were refreshed for the ride back. New year, new tracks. Lets hope we can keep that up!

:snorting:

 

[Heimer]

Nice riding but fuck the Chinese for their contribution

 

[Osadabwa]

Yeah, I tend to agree that the Chinese are not in Africa for the right reasons, but then who is? Anyone out here is looking to profit off of it someway. Also, that railroad shouldn't have been built at all and the decision to do it was made 100% by Kenyans (who were advised against it by the World Bank if you can believe it). The 100-year-old railway that the Brits built and the Kenyans let fall apart since Independence could have and should have been refurbished (or maybe it shouldn't have fallen into complete disrepair... which makes you wonder what the lifespan of the new train will be), but that would be harder to profit from and wouldn't be sexy. So the cats hatched a plan: they had the new RR route drawn up, then they had their cronies go out and buy up the nearly worthless land in the RR's path. Then when the RR construction began, they sold their plots back to the government right of way for a nice little profit. Clever eh? So again... the Chinese may be opportunistic, but who are the real assholes here?

 

[Osadabwa]

Day 1 of 4

Out of the six XR650R riders in our crew, an astonishing two-thirds were able to commit to a four-day ride! That’s stupendous mathematics for Kenya, and we had a plan to make the best of the time. We would shoot for a little variety – a combination of desert and mountain taking us down into the Rift Valley and up to the Loita Hills before cutting over the Mau Escarpment to Navasha and home.

Above: The crew: Frooger, me, Panic and Rawlence

We dropped in at our usual spot, hopped down below the Ngong hills, split up past Saikeri to Najile for petrol and a quick, blood-warm soda. The day was young and we had many miles to go.

Above: Panic and Rawlence at the Najile petrol station

From Najile, the plan was to hit the dusty track under the flank of Mt Suswa that connects with Mosiro. The valley was bone-dry and the track alternated between squirrely, rolling volcanic rock and sand, punctuated nicely with the occasional pot of fesh-fesh. The farther West you ride, the more dense the bush, and we spooked ostrich and the occasional gazelle along the way.

To be continued...

 

[Osadabwa]

After our Coke stop in Mosiro, the difficulty and the temperature both began to climb. It’s a track Panic and I know well, but Frogger and Rawlence were unaware what awaited. The first bit is fast, excellent stuff, slip-sliding hard-pack and round edged washouts, but after we paused for lunch, the story changed. It was first and second-gear riding over a bulldozer track through the bush over the volcanic stones. By now it must have been 45 degrees and everyone was feeling it. Frogger, though complaining ceaselessly about the heat, hopped around like a sprite while the rest of us ground along steadily. Whenever someone whinged too much, Panic would declare: You think this is tough? I did it on my Tenere! And he did, too: HERE.

Above: Lunch spot in the "shade"

Definitely Frogger handles the tricky stuff the best of all of us. He’s not much bigger than a mid-sized hunting dog and twice as wiry. His scrawny, bowed legs grip the bike like a baby monkey grips his momma, and standing at full height on the pegs he perches behind the cockpit of the bike in a very relaxed position. We’re all jealous, but it occasionally haunts him… when he has to kickstart the bike on a side-hill for example.

The heat was taking its toll, so I waited like a good guy to see that Rawlence made it past a tricky little sandy river crossing with a steep escape. He cleared it easily, so I set off up the trail but waiting in ambush was my good buddy Panic, throttle full open, front brake pulled, roosting a spray of stones and sand at me that hit with astonishing force and accuracy. As far as roosts go, this one was top-notch, and made deadlier as I had not yet put my helmet’s screen back down yet and was forced to stop, (nearly toppling over) hide my face and just wait for my punishment to end. Panic claimed it was payback from a roost I’d given them earlier (of which I of course have no recollection...).

There was one really loose rocky riverbed crossing to go before we hit the open plains and could blast our way to a cold(ish) beer in Nguruman. Three of us made it, but Rawlence bit the dust at the top. I hiked back to give him a hand in exchange for taking a pic of him in his moment of dismay. Can I help it if I’m a quick draw with the camera? I went down twice that day with witnesses, but there’s no evidence. Walking less than 100 feet up and down a rocky hill in the heat was enough for me. When we hit the plains, we opened up and never looked back.

In Nguruman we confirmed with our man Molilo that tomorrow he would open the gate to the road leading up to the Loitas. I met him a year ago and he assured me that bikes could and do pass often, as well as trucks and 4x4s, and that he was the man who held the key to the gate at the bottom. For a modest access fee, we would be welcomed. While we sipped beers in Nguruman, he reiterated this. We left the bar in high spirits and zipped down to the Ewasso Nyiro river (Muddy River) to our favorite campsite.

We buzzed through the horribly dusty approach to the campsite, a place Panic and I have come several times. You ride down a steep decline to a sand bank with round river stones everywhere. It’s a lovely place to camp with the muddy river lazily meandering around you down through a shady tunnel of river trees.

*ATTENTION * AVISO * ACHTUNG* The following events happened exactly as I narrate. Do not let Rawlence tell you otherwise.

I was first down the bank, followed by Panic and Frogger. The three of us had cut our engines, removed our helmets and were talking about where to set up the tents and how to arrange the bikes. Rawlence, meanwhile, is still on the bike, churning up sand and riding around the small space, being a nuisance. I thought he was looking for a stone to place under the kickstand or something.

Then he yells: “Is the river deep?” (He won’t dispute this).

I yell back “Not really” not thinking anything of it and proceed with unpacking.

Next thing I know, out of the corner of my eye I see him riding down the bank and straight into the river. The water immediately goes over his boots, then the engine and as he revs, he digs himself in up to the seat! Apparently, Rawlence thought it would be cool to camp on the opposite bank.

He got lucky. Frogger waded in to help him and almost vanished, just a meter to the left. It was comic gold. Rawlence got the obligatory ogling Masai guy to help him and Frogger push the bike over and back again and then Panic helped them drain the pipe and carb.

Above: Rawlence’s SCUBA moment at the Ewaso Nyiro

Once the bike was running and the tents were all up, we commenced with chilling out. We cooled off in the river, cooked up our Ration Packs and did away with the better part of a liter of Black. Rawlence tried repeatedly and unsuccessfully to blame yours truly, dear reader, for his epic blunder in the river, suggesting that I had egged him on by saying the water wasn't deep and that I should have surmised that he would be daft enough to try to ford it. Frogger said putain a lot and practiced some of his American cussin. I encouraged him to watch Deadwood series to see it done right. Panic laughed heartily and said "Oooooh Yeees!" a lot. It was a good laugh, but the weather was unsteady; one minute still and hot, the next a drizzle or heavy dust-blowing winds. Eventually, around 10 the clouds settled in for a decent rain and we all hit the sack.

Above: Some things can not be unseen...

Above: Frogger asked me to brush him up in Photoshop so he can show off to the lasses. I got you fam. 

To be continued... :snorting:

 

[armpump]

following

 

[bud500 (R.I.P)]

Love these reports.  :thumleft:

 

[Zimzanawana]

O0

 

[ROOI]

Grand as always  :thumleft: :thumleft:

 

[DirtyTeNeReLess]

excellent RR! well written, looks hot and fun. nice to see another world, sad about the corruption and the Chinese. and the charcoal thieves. do the massai jump about in real life or is it ceremonial only?

 

[Osadabwa]

Up with the birds, we were saved from the bloodshot eyeball of the morning sun by a cloud band that saved our bacon. We didn’t rush. Coffee was first on the agenda, then answering the call of nature, then breaking down the tents, checking for mechanical issues and gearing up. Panic took it a step further to wash his silky hair… wouldn’t do to have a greasy scalp on a motorbike ride you see.

Of course, I found that my rack had given up on me. One of the puny little 6mm bolts that holds it on broke off and the other had stripped. So, under the watchful eye of Lookie Lou 1 and Lookie Lou 2, a pair of Masai guys with literally nothing better to do than stand within feet of us while we changed and packed (for 2 hours), I bodged the rack as best I could.

Above: It was suboptimal, but I reckoned it would carry me through.

Above: Panic at the salon, me leaving the Lookie Lous behind <<sniff>> oh how I’ll miss them.

The plan was straightforward: we would head to bar, call Molilo and meet him at the gate. It was close to 11AM by now and already getting hot. We tried Molilo’s cell, but he was out of coverage. An omen. Up to now, he’d always been reachable. After awhile, we decided to go up and find him. We got to the gate and Panic and I went hunting for him while the others waited. As we returned back, Molilo was there on a motorbike! Excellent news! Alas, he said we should wait for him awhile longer.

It is never good to wait for someone in Kenya to do something you badly want them to do, especially if the guy is the man with the key. The Man with the Key is always a complete asshole, no matter what, and it turned out Molilo was no different. We burned in the hot sun for ages waiting, but he finally returned. His story was convoluted but plausible, so we let him go away again… he’d be back soon. He never came back.

Above: Photos do not do this justice: waiting in the heat… no shelter… only the shade of the bikes. Misery.

Above: Frogger soaking up the rays… after awhile the two of us went down to the stream to cool off.

Long story short: We tried to follow the rules. Apparently, some colonial with a famous name maintains the road that passes where we want to go. The only road, mind you, within 90 km of there that does so. His robotic manservant/manager told us on the phone that motorbikes are prohibited because people have hurt themselves in the past and they don’t want the liability. FFS, is this America? Clearly not, so don’t give us that shit. You have no liability over us and we’re ready to take care of ourselves. That folks have hurt themselves is a fact, though. I know at least two groups who have had injuries, but that should not prevent me from having a go! A maintenance fee and a signed indemnity form would sort this out, you mopes. Your argument holds as much water as the big Bwana's name.

Thankfully, there was a silver lining and it involved the good people of Ngurunit village. It’s easy and tempting to have a bad experience with somebody and then paint the whole group with the same brush (you listening, POTUS?). In our case, Molilo had us thirsty for blood, but a half-dozen guys at the bar tried various ways to get us to our objective, including calling the game ranch manager (who said we should feel free), but to no avail. Eventually, it was too late to climb up anyway, but the same guys offered a highly satisfactory alternative. In a shady glen, there’s a spot by a pool (the source of Magadi’s water they said) with a stream trickling from it we could cool off in and space for the tents. They organized beers, fire and a roasted goat with potatoes. It turned out to be great, and the guys were really helpful.

Above: Cooling off

Above: The camp

We were pissed off about not being able to get up a bloody public road because some colonial with a famous name said we couldn’t, but with a bit of beer, some Black and the mbuzi (some of the best I’ve had), we were in good spirits by the time we crashed for the night. We were still out in Africa camping with mates after all. Could be worse!

:snorting:

 

[Zimzanawana]

:thumleft:    its getting better and better

 

[Osadabwa]

It rained in the night, but we all slept like the dead. Up fairly early, it was still cool long enough to saddle up, find petrol (again the guys showed us where) and head out. We were back-tracking toward Mosiro along the hard rocky bulldozer track, but beyond that it’d be new territory into the Mau Escarpment, the huge, undulating breadbasket of the Rift Valley (which used to be a forest, but never mind that). Spirits were high, and thanks to the guys, we avoided the baby-head strewn riverbed that caught Rawlence out on the way in.

Above: Ngurunit in the morning. Nice and cool. Elevated above the heat of the plains.

Above: Back the way we came: the scene of Panic’s roost… all that soil in my face!

Above: In Mosiro, Rawlence produced a bag of sweets for the kids and Frogger did his best to impose order while doling them out.

From Mosiro, it was a quick zip up to the Narok tarmac road where we would cross to the Mau. Frogger was agitating for a noon-time beer and I could see Panic’s eyes were glazed over, so after some faffing about, we finally found a place where we could wet our whistles. We didn’t doddle long, however, because ahead of us loomed a fair number of gray clouds which would spell muddy mayhem if they dumped rain on us on the Mau. That place is high and cool and the soil is slick. So we blasted out of there like the Furies, with Frogger absolutely ripping ahead in the lead.

Above: Cocks of the walk

Above: Once forest, the Mau is now pasture and fields as far as the eye can see… you’d have thought they could have left a few trees

Above: Beautiful place. Cabbage fields, wheat fields, barley, you name it… and the rutted roads to match

As it was lunchtime, we hunted for a place to eat the rest of our canned fish supplies and pulled off onto a beautiful green pasture with a view of Lake Naivasha. There were Simpson’s clouds overhead and a nice breeze. A woman approached and asked cheekily: So, you thought this looked like a place to trespass? But she wasn’t bothered. On the contrary, it was clear she was interested in Frogger, but he was having none of it… wouldn’t trade his iPhone for a sheep. Cheap Frenchman!

Above: Lunchtime pasture… looked like a Microsoft screensaver

We didn’t doddle. While the Simpsons clouds were overhead, the gloomy ones were out in front, so we continued on our way. I’d found a very cool descent from the top that took us down a switchbacked drainage to the barley and wheat flats.

From there, we rejoined the bigger road where it became abundantly clear (again) that the Pig is the best bike on earth for this place. The roads are pummeled by trucks in all seasons, so they are a wreck. The pounding the bikes took was impressive, and we never really had to slow down. At times it felt like powder skiing over a mogul field. The views were sensational, stretching far over Lake Naivasha to where the thunderstorms threatened. On a clear day we could have seen all the way up to the Aberdares.

Luckily, the rain held off and we blasted into Carnelly’s on the South Naivasha road by midafternoon. Tents set up, ablutions complete, we made our way to the bar and stayed there til nightfall, devouring a delicious burger and a pizza in the meantime. It wasn’t a long day, but the variety of riding was incredible… fast, flat sandy sections… slow, technical rocky sections… the climbing and descent in the Mau… Wonderful.

Tomorrow, home.

:snorting:

 

[Osadabwa]

At Carnelly’s you sleep only so-so thanks to the heavy bass of the local nightclub that throbs well until morning, but waking up is a pleasure. The birds go crazy. There’s every tweet, chirp and squak you can imagine all heralding the arrival of the sun. At around 7000ft, it’s nice and cool as well which whets your appetite for a full breakfast, which we devoured.

Above: Navasha, Carnelly’s camp

Rawlence had a brilliant plan for getting from Naivasha to the Narok road: Kedong Ranch. Panic and I had been in there once, but I’ve been turned away a time or two as well. This time, we knew who to call thanks to Rawlence. For a fee, we were able to enter, ride around, enjoy the scenery and go out the back side towards Mt. Suswa. Take note, Leaky, nobody worried if we’d get hurt. The Kedong Ranch is pretty cool, right up on the slope of Mt. Longonot with plenty of game (antelopes, zebras, giraffes and warthogs) and fun little tracks to explore. We zipped around a few loops and decided to head out, avoiding the riverbed Panic and I got into last time in favor of a more direct road. It was fun riding all the way to the road.

Above: At the junction with the tar road… bikers pose with three signs of the times in Kenya: Charcoal bags, too many cattle and the Standard Guage Railway in the far distance… Maendeleo

Crossing the road, it was back to our playground. From Mt. Suswa to my front door is under 2 hours if you keep at it, but we weren’t in a rush. We pulled into Ewaso Kedong for a celebratory good-bye beer at the pub, which, despite being besieged with drunks and children, was a decent place with very cold beer!

Above: Future XR rider? This kid didn’t want to come down!

We saddled up and cruised home on the big dirt past the Chinese tunnel works, up the escarpment, around to the back of things to Wayaki Way. I’m pleased we didn’t let January get away without a good ride to show for it. Let’s make it a habit, boys!

Oink
:snorting:

Oh, and here's the video. Caution... strong language and flabby men.
[youtube]https://youtu.be/zs23vffPZVg[/youtube]

 

[Fuzzy Muzzy]

Absolutely fantastic  :thumleft:

Loving this RR

 

[BlueBull2007]

Nice RR, great pics as usual and good story telling. :thumleft:

 

[EssBee]

Stunning RR! As usual  :thumleft:

 

[geopat]

Thanks for sharing it makes me want to get out and explore

 

[Clockwork Orange]

Brilliant....thanks