2023 Big Red Pigs in Kenya - Season 8! Rise of the Octopig!

[Chrisl]

Love your RR's,photos and your wit and style of writing!! Great seeing Kenya through your lens.Keep up the good work.
Are you Kenyan born or from where?

 

[sidetrack]

BRP perfectly suited to that terrain

 

[Osadabwa]

Longonot Lemonade Ride

Long overdue ride at last! Three days free of responsibility! Camping gear packed. Bike in tip-top-condition. Panic and I have been dying to get out of dreary Nairobi and the day is finally upon us! We’re going down to Nguruman to find new tracks, baby yeah! New territory! Dirt blasting hooliganism and drunken campfire nights in darkest Africa! Let’s go!

Above: The bike is pimped. Ready to rock. Can not be beat. I’m so chuffed.
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And then the day before departure… Panic gets Manflu from his daughter who got Daughteritis. Balls! But as the saying goes, when live gives you lemons, make lemonade. I moped around a bit this morning and then finally said, screw it, let’s take out SUMO Pig!

Above: This here is SUMO Pig y’all. Recently outfitted with 17” Supermoto wheels (and short beak and tidy hand guards to match) she’s a street menace.

Since the long ride was stuffed, I decided I’d debut my girl down the valley. I swerved around the maddening traffic, ricocheting off the inordinate number of speedbumps the Kenyans have put on their multi-lane highways, and sprinted down the valley to Longonot Gate. It was a tad sketchy trying to drift around on the short dirt road to the gate, but I got the hang of it… feshfesh and SUMO tyres though… they don’t mix.

Above: AI’s best guess at “XR650R Supermoto ripping through crazy Nairobi Traffic – Graphic Novel” They got the bike wrong, but it’s kinda how it felt actually… horrifying cadaver face and all.

Above: Pulled off the low road to get a snap of SUMO Pig above the valley. Big bump in the distance is Longonot, my trail-running destination.

I got there in blistering time. In SUMO trim, she’s so smooth (thanks @adv )! No weird vibrations from knobbies and no unbalanced irregular polygon shaped wheels from smashing stones. Corners on rails, acceleration is mad. I did look for 6th gear several times on the long straights though… maybe I need a taller sprocket.

Got to the gate, parked the bike, changed costumes and set off at a sorry assed jog toward a very steep Mt. Longonot. There were absolute hoards of Kenyan schoolkids already on the trail, every last one of whom had to make some comment about the old Mzungu dude jogging up the trail. Mostly they were respectful, and I assume in absolute awe at my well-toned physique.

Above: At the crater rim… yeah, already winded, you pasty-assed, patchy-bearded middle-aged Adonis in short pants, you…

Anyway the trail run was fun, in a torture-chamber sort of way. I do appreciate having a place of such natural beauty to do my jogging in. I let my phone play me AC/DC, Volbeat and the like and try not to fall into the crater (nearly did, no shit… stumbled on a root and my life flashed before me).

Above: The middle of the crater

Above: AI’s stab at “Trail running hero easily outpaces the rest of the muppets in a wild African landscape.” Or something like that. Again, the AI nailed it. The attention to detail on the wildlife is incredible. (Real talk… the AI flagged my wording and wouldn’t process my request when I put in “African animals”… it accepted Savana Wildlife… is it me, or is the AI a bit paranoid already? What did they think I meant ffs?)

Above: Hot pokers growing at the site of recent burns from a not-so-natural wildfire

After my run I collapsed on a bench at the gate, had a nice Coke and half a sleeve of Nice biscuits before turning the dial back to Rider Mode and hopping on the XR for a rip up to the Nyama Choma joints for a bit of refueling. I turned the key, waited for the all touch-screen dash to light up, listened for the fuel pump, selected “I can’t handle the power, please help” mode on the wanker selector and started the engine with the push of a button. Ok, none of that happened. I threw a leg over, kicked that bitch to life and roared out of the parking lot, spewing stones! Of course at the first junction, I slowed the hell down because… SUMO tyres… but it felt badass for a bit.

I sprinted to Mai Mahieu, backed in a nice drifting righthander, and exploded in a 400m wheelie toward Narok (all of that is false apart from the directions). Halfway to Suswa, the railway signaled my exit ramp. Another wicked squealing rubber burning turn (also false) and I was on the short section of dirt, roaring toward the Suswa-Ngong Rd. Those SUMO tyres are tricky in the dirt, boy! Gotta watch that front end carefully… the back is never straight, but the front… I’ll probably have nightmares.

Above: Climbing halfway home already, stopped for a quick snap at the overlook. Mt. Suswa in the distance Having a tar road down there really sucks… but it’s a blast to blast.

Above: Refueling at Roastman Muturi’s… damn fine chips, but Vitis does better mbuzi. With the cold White Cap and festive reggae music playing at an old-guy-appropriate volume, I’ll give it 4 stars.

Having dined, it was home rip time. On the little wheels I debated skipping the usual shortcut, but then slapped myself back to reality. It’s a really good shortcut. And although I went a bit more tentatively than I do on Desert Pig, to not dent my pristine rims, it was still a quick little dirty blast.

Above: SUMO Pig at the quarry… she’s been here before, but not in midget trim

Above: Without a doubt, 17” wheels and road rubber are sub-optimal in these situations… still, she did it.

Above: Home. A bit of Rift Valley feshfesh clinging to the rims.

All in all, I had a great day. Was it as good as a 3 day ride to uncharted locales? No! But you gotta make due sometimes… Lucky for me I ain’t afraid to ride alone and my Pigs love it too.

Oink

 

[Osadabwa]

Panic recovered from whatever was ailing him so we scratched a ride into the calendar for Sunday. Plan was to go all the way down to the Tanzania border to see if a faint track I’d been ogling on Google Earth was passable. Since it was up on some hills, the chances were 50/50 but I'll take those odds. So… lets go!

The rip down to Mi46 was nothing short of madness. Something about the morning light, a blurry head and a road that had suffered badly during the rains combined to be a very hair-raising experience. I approached every washout too fast, was late into every corner, underappreciated the stoniness of the stony sections etc. So many close calls!

Above: Panic gives a one-wheeled salute

Above: And then another

Above: The track had been so wild we decided to calm our nerves with a nice 10:30AM beer in Mi-46. If you think we’d be alone in a bar on a Sunday at 10:30AM, you don’t know Kenya. People were already blotto in there.

After the quick sip, we set back out into the beautiful sunshine for Torosei down on the Tanzania border. This road as well has seen better days, but now we kept a weary eye on the terrain for washouts and were pushing past the village in no time.

Above: Short call on the road to Torosei, nice fluffy clouds in the blue African sky

It was time to test the 50/50 proposition. The track began very promisingly enough, hardpacked and sandy, it snaked through the trees. Before long though it was washed out and narrowing. We stopped to scope a blind drop into a riverbed and a Masai guy suggested we were gonna have a bad experience if we kept going, but those opinions are also accurate only half the time, so we pressed ahead. Then it got steep and rocky as promised.

Above: Panic on the hardpack, feeling optimistic

Above: Our chat with the Masai guy happened here… still dirt to be seen and only a few stones.

In no time, the track aimed straight up the hill and was covered in loose quartz stones. No vehicles had been on it in ages, so any traffic has been of the bovine variety which chews up a track like nothing. I picked the wrong way and had to manhandle the Pig back in position. Then I dropped her trying to get going again. Then I almost fell on my face trying to pick her up (feet slipping on the goddam stones) and Panic had to help me (shameful shit, that). But we were still undaunted (or less daunted than we maybe should have been) and I vowed to go ahead some more to see if conditions would improve.

Above: Beginning the quartzy ascent

Above: Trail was narrow and overgrown… made it hard to pick a line

After climbing a bit more, we decided to give it a miss. We were wearing ourselves out. It was already past noon, and we were not sure what we’d find but the GPS was showing steeper topography ahead. Further, it's not like the track would be opening up some amazing riding on the other side... I already have a way over there that is really nice. So, enough. I still might try it from the other direction sometime, but for now, we were bailing.

Above: But not before trying another little track that we similarly decided to forgo

Bumping unscathed back down the way we came (it’s not a lot easier descending that shit, is it?) we enjoyed some nice, untouched views of the bush and pushed our way up a small sand lugga for a bit of rest and grub.

Above: Nice views

Above: Coming down the slow-motion avalanche of quartz

Above: Crawling piggie

Above: Moving out of the tough stuff

Above: Rest spot for a tin of sardines and some peanuts in the shade

Back on more established tracks, the sweat cooled our faces and the throttle upped our paces. We ripped past Torosei, up the road, over the washouts and screamed into Mi-46 for petrol. Then it was a beautiful rip back up the track to Olepolos for a massive late mbuzi leg lunch and a couple of beers. The colors of the Ngong hills and the valley were stunning at golden hour.

Above: Pigs fly better than they crawl

Above: Massive goat leg lunch. Note Panic’s riding gear vs. mine. We purchased them at the same time several years ago (not intentionally matching, but what to do?) and mine looks like I’ve been jousting in it while his is pristine. Guess I cut the thorn trees closer than he does!

Above: Absolutely spectacular late afternoon light at our usual quarry regroup spot. I'm almost able to ignore the number of new fields, houses and roads that have gone up since I started riding here... almost.

So, we didn’t get our 3 day camping ride in, but we salvaged a piece of the weekend anyway.

Oink

 

[ClimbingTurtle]

Nicely done, as always - thank you!!

 

[Osadabwa]

Osadabwa returns to Zambia

Once every couple of years I fly back to Zambia to check on an agricultural project I’m involved with. Wasn’t sure it would happen this year, but at the last minute I found myself on a highly overpriced KQ flight bound for Livingstone flying past Kilimanjaro and Mt. Meru. A quick drive up the road and I was in Kalomo, where the project takes place. This year I brought my helmet because my role would be to collect soil samples via motorbike.

Above: Seat 19A heading south

And what a motorbike it is, too. The Gatoma 150 (which is definitely actually a 125) is a completely unknown brand to me, but it was a cheap bike for our field guy to use and I was keen to put her through her paces. This included ripping up a very nice dirt road toward Ndundumwezi, a bit of double track, some sand and even a few sections of destruction.

Above: The Gatoma! AKA the (g)ATOM(a). What a beast. It took me all morning to work up the balls to get her above 55kph

Above: Gatoma 150 Super Atom’s specs: Wheels: 2. Loose bolt: 5. Gears: You’ll wish it was 6. Brakes: if you’re a believer.

My first foray was tentative. Didn’t trust the front wheel at all on the dirt. Had no power to get out of trouble with. So much dust from the zillions of seasonal trucks transporting maize back from the villages to the town centre, blinding me. I had a very unusual experience while figuring out the bike: I was overtaken! Another Gatoma zipped past like I was standing still and I said fuckit and twisted that bad boy’s neck… up to 60kph.

Above: A very full maize bin. In this part of Zambia, farmers get good yields (for small farmers) 4 out of 5 years and then it’s a massive flop. We’re trying to get them to grow sorghum as an insurance crop, along with sunflower.

Above: Sunflower heads in the background, sorghum grain up front. Zambia Breweries will take white sorghum, so we act as aggregator. We’re working on upping the volumes to do better than break-even.

After a few visits with farmers, I was eyeballing the dipping sun. I knew my headlight was dim at best and didn’t relish the idea of arriving in the dark, so I donned my helmet and hit the road. I stopped quickly at a borehole hand-pump to splash away the dust from my face then twisted it on. The Southern African Golden Hour was upon me and the kilometres just melted away Lovely ride. I was almost able to ignore the pain in my back and feet from the Gatoma’s inadequate shocks and footpegs!

Above: Waterpoint

Above: Excellent dirt… not exciting, but excellent

Above: Shadowrider

Above: Sundowner

The following day, we stayed in Kalomo town to do a few things and await delivery of our sorghum and sunflower. In the afternoon I took the Super Atom to the local roadside wrench muppets to fix some mostly cosmetic issues caused by my partner who took a proper digger with the bike a few weeks ago. Headlight was busted, mirrors were busted, rack was bent, dash was broken, oil was low and chain was loose. After an hour at the roadside, some of those things were better, some were worse, so all went according to plan.

Above: Kalomo Bike Hospital

Final day of the trip. Goal was to collect field soil samples from three dispersed farmers. I took off in the early morning and froze my kanutas off before reaching the petrol station, so I pulled into the market to buy another jumper and then hit the road. Early morning light is lovely, but the shadows hide dips and speed bumps. Still, I made it out there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail (and a million vibrations of the Gatoma).

Above: Sporting my new dust-blocking jumper

Above: Early light in the miombo woodland (pee break)

Above: Rumbling up to one of the farms, a scrawny baobab by a cattle crush

Above: Wrong turn and I’m in the enduro section. Gatoma handled it all with ease.

I’d double booked myself and was running late for a work call on Teams. I had about half an hour to sprint back toward Kalomo (1.5 hours away) and find enough 4G to handle the call. With minutes to spare I pulled over, doffed the helmet and joined the call. Guys on the other end were surprised by the location of my office for the day!

Above: And I was chuffed with it. A day on any bike in the African bush beats a day at work any time.


Braaap.

 

[Osadabwa]

Been too long! It’s many years since I’ve been on a proper ride with Kolobus. Now he’s back in Nairobi with an XRR and we’re trying to make up for lost time! Sadly, stitching together epic rides of over a week (like the one we did HERE where we camped in a washout, nearly croaked in the heat of L. Logipi, crossed Lake Turkana in a boat and avoided gunfire by escaping to Iten) are difficult to manage, so we have to make do with whatever. So, a day-ride it is!

Above: Two XRRs coming down the SGR. Kolobus’ had decided to jettison one of the indicators, so we spent a minute tucking it away for later re-installation. Another reason my piggie doesn’t wear blinkers!

Above: Nice warm early light. Leaving Nairobi in the gray, as soon as we got our noses over the edge of the valley the sun was visible.

Above: Leaving a pagan sign in the road for any passing KTMs. This is our country. I may or may not have dropped the bike doing that perfect circle roost. Only Kolobus knows and he ain’t sayin’.

We rattled down the SGR to Ewaso Kedong for a cup of tea and mandazi (100/- for 2 cups of tea and two mandazi… I asked the lady twice to make sure I’d heard correctly. That’s less than a buck!). Afterward, it was a bit of tar blasting to get past Suswa Town and on the dirt to the bottom of the Hells’ Gate Gorge. The approach is a fesh-fesh nightmare. Sand-harvesting trucks driving back and forth to the riverbed have made it treacherous. Kolobus, blinded by my dust tucked the front wheel and took a fesh bath, but otherwise no harm was done and we made pretty good time through the stuff and into the riverbed.

Above: At the Investment Hotel for chain and mandazi

Above: Taking five in the shade of the canyon wall

We took a little break in the shade of the canyon wall and then rode up the gorge. Surprisingly, we came to flowing water and rode the wet riverbed until the gorge started closing in. The canyon is really beautiful with yellow acacias along the edges and many funky volcanic layers to look at. We goofed around a bit in the water then blitzed back out, trying (and kind of succeeding) to avoid the worst of the feshfesh roads this time around.

Above: Water flowing at the end of the line

Above: Cool spot... wet boots

Above: Kolobus does the funky flamingo

Above: Riding the river back out the way we came in

Above: On our exit track, still plenty of feshfesh and even a dust devil or two. This one swallowed Kolobus. But without truck traffic there weren’t ruts, so it was a lot more fun to ride.

Above: A herd of cattle going up, a lonesome Piggy going down. A minute or two later, Kolobus managed to drop the bike, but I promised I wouldn’t tell anybody.

Above: And out again. Soon back out of the fesh and onto the tar.

Beers were calling so we blasted it for Muturi’s Meat Joint or whatever they call it. The guy manning the grill showed us a goat leg and we said yes please. Chips, beers, mbuzi… not a bad way to wrap up a fun day of riding!

Above: Choma prep and White Cap baridi

Above: Kolobus and the mbuzi feast. Some of those pieces required jaws of steel to masticate, but the overall effect was delicious.

I really hope the next ride involves tents and whisky by a fire somewhere far away.

Fingers crossed!

 

[Gottoride]

Thanks, bro - awesome ride! Tents and Flor de Caña

 

[Osadabwa]

An excellent day trip out to the valley with my best mate Panic that almost didn’t happen.

Departure time was set and I was there. The Rubis in the ‘hood under a sudden drizzle. I knew before I checked my phone what I’d see… a message from Panic, “Feck this shit, I’m not going anywhere. Let’s see in an hour.” Panic is hydrophobic in the worst way. Many a day trip he has scuppered for himself on account of unexpected precipitation. Rain, mind you, which often graces Nairobi’s ugly tarmac streets normally ignores the Rift’s rocky roads.

Bailing on a plan over weather doesn’t work for me. Rides are too precious, and I can't leave it to chance. In an hour, maybe it gets worse. In an hour, maybe bed starts to sound better than biking. In an hour, maybe the wife remembers a prior engagement or your daughter comes down with a sniffle. Excuses are like mushrooms in that way. So, summoning my most emotionally neutral language, I replied: “OK, I’m going to chance it. I’ll look for a message in an hour and we’ll meet up.” Which means: “I’m riding hell or high water, with or without you!” So I went home, donned my rain kit and took off, knowing full well that there was a better than average chance the sun would be shining in the Rift Valley… and it was. This ain’t my first rodeo.

Above: It was wet all the way to the edge of the Rift and then it just wasn’t anymore. Blue skies and dry roads beckoned. Time to twist it on! Sent this pic to Panic and said: “Hope to see you in an hour.” Hoping he'd take it as I meant it – come on, man lets ride! Not like a dig somehow...

Above: Getting hot with all the rain gear on, I stopped to stuff it all into my rucksack. I wasn’t riding hard in the hopes that Panic would follow through and start my direction.

After an hour I was well down the SGR even at my dawdling pace when I stopped to check my messages. Panic: “I’m getting fuel, starting down now.” I was elated. I’m happy to ride alone, done my fair share of it, but it’s always better with your mates if they're in the right frame of mind. So I sent him a photo of encouragement and played around trying (and failing) some half-assed enduro moves I’ve seen on the internet. Then after a while I started racing back up the track to meet him.

Above: Happy pic sent to encourage Panic's rapid riding. No, Kolobus, they aren't tits.

I posted up where I had a long view of the track and waited. In a few minutes, I saw the gleam of a headlight and heard the distant roar of the Piggy. Panic arrived with a smile, so the ride was back on! We ripped down the SGR, ricocheting off the stones and threading the singletrack section. Down to Ewaso Kedong for a tea, but the ladies at the Investment Hotel were out at church so we blasted the "KTM Killer" road to Najile instead. There, a Coke and some dodgy donuts hit the spot and we hatched a plan to head down the “other track” to Oltepesi and if all was well, we’d climb Olegorsaile. We took off like a rocket and never looked back. Stopping and taking pics of these tracks by now is just not part of the plan. Since we know them so well, we just blast! For that sometimes I wish I had a drone and a helmet cam and somebody to do all the filming cause I ain't gonna.

Above: A doubletake of Panic coming down the top of the SGR

Above: Najile coke stop with a chicken, a cat and a pair of piggies

Above: The last rocky bit before the big white dust plains on the “other track”

At the end, Panic’s fresh hernia scar was acting up (not a euphemism, actual scar... he got it, I shit you not, by lifting a BMW 1200 onto its centre stand!) so we ditched the mountain climb in favour of cold beers and goat ribs at Muturi’s. That's a fair trade in my book and we'd had a great rip already. It was some quick riding getting there, drifting and raising hell… and even quicker and crazier leaving!

Above: My very bald tyre (it has to be the last ride, I can’t keep putting it off... but I do like the way she drifts) and a couple of happy bikers over meat and beer, laughing that 8 years later we are still roaring around on the same two 20 year old XR650Rs while the rest of the world worries about traction control, throttle position sensors and working around the "known issues" of their modern motorcycles. As the kids say: LOL.


To everyone out there. Ride always and always ride. Don’t let a little weather stop you.

Oink.

 

[the ruffian]

As articulate, and self-deprecatingly philosophical as ever…

With that impeccable sting-in-the-tale comment that resonates with this old pig-noir rider (the black DR650) …

 

[Osadabwa]

Mt. Olegorsailie Run

Two weeks in a row! That’s a trend I’d like see continue. If I can’t get in a long trip, a weekly day-ride with Panic is the next best thing. This time the destination was Mt. Olegorsailie, one of the many extinct volcanoes dotting our backyard and a place I only climbed a year ago despite ripping along her flanks for ages. The only reason there’s a track up the mountain is… you guessed it sports fans… charcoal burners. When I see the circular burned sections and the stumps of acacia trees I know take 50 years to get 20 feet high, I become a bit of a Lorax. The only benefit is that they make tracks to places I otherwise wouldn’t go. Silver linings and all that.

Above: First, to get down the valley. It was a bit of a rip on our old Ngong 1 track, then some tar and out onto the Gazelle Plains.

Above: Flat and eminently braapable, the Gazelle Plains are fantastic and beautiful. I have often raced Grant’s Gazelles through here at going toward 100kph

Above: The sturdy soil holds no surprises, has great traction and sends up a wicked plume of dust.

Above: Panic setting up for a proper drift with Mt. Esekut behind… I don’t think there’s a track up there yet… maybe I have to ask the burners to go for it

Above: Giving her the berries!

After the rip through Gazelle Plains, we turned back toward Oltepesi through some of the fesh fields and spikey trees. Then a quick left and we were aiming up the mountain side. Olegorsailie doesn’t have the look of a volcano as the rim is eroded away, but she’s composed of the same porous, sharp as hell stone. Just down below is an archaeological dig with hundreds of Acheulean hand axes made our collective prehistoric ancestors.

Above: Starting up. Just about here somewhere I spotted a lesser Kudu. Warms my heart that a few creatures can still eek out a living with all the human pressure they endure.

Above: Taking a bit of a breather under a thorn tree with an apple. You so smaat Panic!

Above: The real ascent begins. It’s a rocky bastard, great for practice and hard on the body. I kept trying to find that spot on the pegs where I wasn’t hanging too much on the bars, relying instead on my legs for balance and using minimal steering input. Sometimes I mostly got it right.

Above: Big views down valley

We scaled the mountain in decent time and found a herder up at the top with his donkey and a couple of jerry cans. He was going to tiptoe down one of the ravines for water. At first I thought he told me the road continued over the top and down again, but he clarified that no, it poops out at the top. Still, we had to go to trail’s end to see for ourselves.

Above: The end of the line. A goat path continues, but the topographic lines are pretty cozy on the other side of that ridge. We decided to aim our steeds back downhill.

Above: Another beautiful vista made possible by our friends the charcoal burners of Kenya.

Above: Heading back up before dropping back down. I still have a mild hankering to camp up there some night for a change. I think that might be amazing. Full moon would be the time to do it.

I was ahead of Panic crashing down the loose stoney hill, doing a much better job with weight distribution on the descent. Feels a lot like downhill skiing or snowmobiling to me. I wanted to take a shot of him coming around a particularly steep and gnarly corner, so I hopped off the bike and waited… and waited. There’s a moment of hesitation where you’re not sure if you should go back or wait… so you wait a bit… and a bit more… then you go back, hoping it’s just a puncture and not a broken tibia. Thankfully, puncture it was.

Above: We wrangled some rocks and got the Pig’s front wheel off the ground. He cussed a bit. Doesn’t like punctures, our mechanic, especially when they happen to him.

Above: And honestly, I feel the same. The total inadequacy of tubes for our type of riding is maddening. Yes, that shit above is “heavy duty”. What a load of rubbish. I long ago stopped forking out for thicker rubber as I’ve found, and we confirmed yet again today, that they cut just like everything else. (And no, mousses don’t work for our type of riding, and yes we’ve tried TuBliss (and I use it on the rear)… but still there’s no silver bullet).

Above: Panic remounting the tyre, this time with a normal every day ordinary tube with OKO in it. We left the HD one in the tree for the Masai to make straps, slingshots and shoes out of… which is that shitty tube’s best use anyway.

Mechanic work done, we were off! Well, almost. In the process of trying to hang his bike in the tree, Panic had tweaked the front end so that the wheel and the handlebar were crosseyed. This, well, lets say this frustrated the mechanic considerably. But once it was sorted, we were off! And we ripped. And we rocked over the stones. And before we knew it we were feasting on kuku choma at Olepolos again. So after 200kms we were still home in time for me to do the school run after a brief nap.

Above: On the way back from the school run, I picked up a 6-pac and brought them around to Panic’s for a bout of beers and bike-gazing in the workshop. Great way to top off a great day.

 

[Osadabwa]

Solo Scouting Luggas and maybe Lakes

Three weeks in a row! Now we’re making up for lost time. Still only day-trips, but I’ll take what I can get. Panic was busy so I decided to do a solo mission to check out an interesting spot on the landscape way down by the border of Tanzania. When I’m alone, I tend to do more ambitious rides, the kind of rides that go new places. Proper exploring. With others, I find this more difficult. The danger of course is that I can get in over my head going new places on my lonesome and there’s nobody there to help me if something goes wrong. Considering how often I do it, it’s apparently a risk I’m quite willing to take!

Above: The emerald patch is where I was aiming. I took two approaches, first from the south then from the north. It’s about 160km from Nairobi, so let’s go!

Thanks to my son’s very early school drop-off, I was on the bike by 7:00AM and riding by 7:15. But I was not feeling it. The skies were gray leaving town, and I just wasn’t vibing. This is common I’ve noticed, so I just roll with it until I feel the urge to let the Battle Piggy rip. I sent Panic messages periodically, so he’d know where to send the helicopter to look for my corpse. I was past Mi-46 by 9AM and in Torosei by 9:45. I’d covered some ground but was still in a mental fog. That would change when I get my tyres on dry riverbed!

Above: Beautiful light, but still wasn’t inspired

Above: Took a nice hard hit to the frame in one of those dips… I feel like these things happen more when you’re not ripping than when you are. And that wasn’t the only incident. Trundling along I slammed into a feshfesh section as if it was nothing and nearly saw my ass. I was zig-zagging crossrutted all over the shop and really close to taking a digger. These days I just hold on and keep throttle open. Usually the pig rights herself.

Above: The first lugga. I could see from Google Earth that this one drains into the “lake” I wanted to find, but I could also see that it flowed through a narrow gorge at some point with rocks everywhere. Still, I had to go have a lookysee. I was finally waking up and enjoying the untouched territory around me.

Above: I was surprised to run into a dam of sorts in the riverbed… or more like a man-made waterfall. Not sure what the point of that is. Maybe somebody can explain. It’s 2m high and totally filled in with silt on the upstream side so it’s not like it would hold water for cattle… maybe once upon a time it did? Dunno.

Above: After the dam/bridge/waterfall, I deviated and followed another track over to another lugga. Kind of like a motorbike portage. The second lugga was lovely as well, but inevitably dead-ended into stones too big for me to navigate. Baboons watched me from the rocks above (you can see them in the pic). There were elephant tracks and fresh poo around as well which was invigorating.

Above: This is how riverbeds often end. You can pick your way through for a while but you’ll eventually dead-end, and I didn’t have a lot of interest in trying to pivot turn my Piggie in soft sand.

Above: Stony outcrops everywhere. You can see from the Google Earth photo up front why this place is so amazing but also difficult to navigate. The bottom of the Great Rift Valley has been ripped apart North to South in a gazillion places, leaving these stone shelves and valleys everywhere. Makes going East-West challenging.

Above: As I was backtracking, I noticed my favourite weird little plant, The Giant’s Bubble Gum. I don’t know what they’re really called. You can see them in the upper right. White blobs they are. Just look like discarded chewing gum. These two are one flood away from taking a trip downstream.

Above: Like this guy… it kind of looks like a giant sugar beet. Wonder if it’ll re-plant there, or if that’s all she wrote. Or perhaps this is how they get around? For all I know they’re alien beings. I considered digging it up and taking it with me.

Above: Everything that wasn’t sandy was rocky, which I love. Curiously, some of the trails seem to have been thoughtfully widened by somebody for some purpose apart from cattle, but there was no sign of 4x4 tracks or even boda lines.

It was about 11AM when I rejoined my known track. I blasted it toward Magadi, curving around to the north of my little lake, and then searched for any kind of path leading down. It was a bit of hunting and pecking, but soon the scrub and wait-a-bits opened up and I was out on a dusty pan with some acacias eking out a living in the sun. I crossed over, started making my way down the far side and wound up chasing a herd of Zebra in front of me which sent up a massive plume of dust.

Above: The damn Zebra are as bad as following another biker!

Eventually I reached the lake shore, or where the shore used to be. It was demarcated by a stoney rim going down to what is now a completely dry pan. The large trees visible in the 2016 Google Earth photo lie dead all around, either from lack of water lately, or flooding some time before. Remarkable how things change. Maybe with El Niño coming this year, the waters will return.

Above: Far enough for me. Didn’t fancy hopping this log and then picking my way through stones to see the lake pan. I took a walk instead.

Above: The surface of the lakebed was loose and loamy with lots of pockets in it. Wouldn’t be a joy to ride on. The place felt very remote.

Above: I hiked up the hillside a bit for a better vantage and only then noticed the darkness of the clouds. It was noonish, I was 100 miles from home and I definitely didn’t want to get stuck in the mud if the rains came. I turned back and twisted it on!

Above: But not before checking out the local accommodation. Once this would have been a decent little shelter… needs a new lick of manure.

Above: Heading out over the uneven surface. Trying to beat the rains. It struck me how much I trust my XRR out here. I’m very far from home, no phone signal, and I just trust her.

Above: Such good riding. Not a soul around either.

I rejoined my known track and elected to rip past Longomot volcano instead of going through it. I didn’t want to have to enter Magadi town from the main track. Tata, who runs the Trona factory there has become annoying, so my plan was to sneak in the back way. And the track to get there is a ripper. First it’s feshfesh then it’s all stones. Finally, just before crossing the railroad tracks, you plunge down the hill. I’d done this a few years back with Wry but the track was very eroded this time, so I diverted onto a similar one nearby that looked more recently maintained. Nope! It was really rough. In no time I had passed the point of no return and was panicking a little bit. I’d scrambled down some steep rocky sections I knew I’d really struggle to climb. Fortunately, the worst was behind me and the track kicked me out on the hard pan below the town.

Above: Never looks as sketchy as it feels, but that would have been hard to climb back up again.

Above: Cockpit view… hoping there weren’t any more big surprises!

Above: Down on the hard packed alkaline pan below the town

Above: In the distance, Longomot looks like she’s attracting rain. I got out of there in the nick of time. (Don’t shame me about my wheel weights by the way. You try getting a practically octagonal wheel running true!)

I made it in and out of Magadi, got a thousand bob of fuel in the tank and then absolutely screwed the throttle on. The rain hit just outside town but ended up being rather magical. That smell of fresh rain in the desert is brilliant. Since I had accomplished my mission, I was happy to zip up the tar taking in that fresh brilliant scent.

Above: Mt Olegorsailie in the distance is where Panic and I were just the other day. A bit of rain won’t hurt that place at all.

Above: From Oltepesi, I organized kuku choma, chips and cold beers at Olepolos and arrived in exactly 20 minutes as promised. That grub hit the spot, boy, I promise you!

And now I’m already thinking about the next ride…

(Which hopefully is next Tuesday as there is a public holiday!)

 

[Chrisl]

The Giant’s Bubble Gum.

Very interesting!!Thanks for the RR entertaining as always.

 

[Osadabwa]

The Giant’s Bubble Gum.

Very interesting!!Thanks for the RR entertaining as always.

Yeah, I've been unable to find out what that plant is. I wonder if it's related to a Baobab since it's got very few leaves and an oversized body. For all I know they're hiding the cure for cancer under that ugly exterior.

 

[Chrisl]

Yeah, I've been unable to find out what that plant is. I wonder if it's related to a Baobab since it's got very few leaves and an oversized body. For all I know they're hiding the cure for cancer under that ugly exterior.

I've surfed the net for an hour and did not even find one photo that resembles even close to what you took.

Obviously using Giant's Bubble Gum only got me bubblegum adds!!

 

[Heimer]

Lekker high energy ride report as always. Thanks bra

 

[Osadabwa]

Bank Holiday Rapid Escape Ride

Long overdue overnight trip planned! Wry and I were going to do blitz out of Nairobi after work, rip up to Suswa, binge on sausages, beer and whisky and then do a long ride home. Perfect way to spend a public holidays that falls on a Tuesday.

Above: Yeah baby! Whisky! But only a little bit. I’m becoming more prudent and I’m not sure it suits me.

Monday afternoon we were on the move at 5ish. Wry is seriously quick in traffic. I just let the guy get on with it. Zigzagging between lorries and matatus like a demon. In no time we were at the dirt, past the quarry and down into the Valley. Time was very short so we bee-lined it on the tar with visions of cold beers urging us on. The late afternoon light makes the riding tricky as can be. Once up on top of Mt. Suswa, you’re staring directly into the sun which makes not slipping up on one of the many ruts a game of chance. Thankfully, no spills to report.

Above: Wry with our destination in shadowy relief behind.

Above: After polishing off 5 sausages, a square of haloumi, 8 beers and that mini bottle of Black Label by the fire, we were suitably knackered and hit the hay. First I had to test my headlight on Wry’s tent. He confirmed it was bright enough.

First light we were up, scratching and farting around. I got my rubbish camp stove started and Wry brought out the Moka Pot for our breakfast coffees. Dawn on that volcano rim is really something nice to behold. But we’re bikers, so we just grunted, peed into the caldera and got the show on the road. Destination: Back down the valley where I was exploring the other day. I spied a little track down there I had a hankering to explore.

Above: Me enjoying the view and playing Genie of the Cafetera

Above: Morning shots of the country’s best offroad bikes

Above: Oddly, my rear tyre was totally flat… that meant the inner TuBliss bladder and the outer tyre. Took 5 minutes to sort out with 2 CO2 cartridges, and we were on the road. I was sure it’d die on me somewhere later, but it held. Kind of a mystery.

The route to Magadi side and the TZ border took us on a bumble through the dust and a rip over the rocks. We opted for the fast track instead of the slower, trickier section that passes Little Magadi. That put us down in Oloika by mid-day. And damn, that mid-day Oloika sunshine was a physical presence for sure. My phone was saying it was 50C down there… which might be wrong, but not by much. There was no way to cool off, though we did pretty well with a couple cans of White Cap under a shady(ish) tree.

Above: heading down valley

Above: The quick ripper toward Magadi/Oloika

Above: Open spaces, open throttles

Above: Mt. Shompole in the distance with a pair of dust-devils. As we rode, the bigger of them rose so high it bent in the changing air currents.

Above: Just past Oloika we found a bit of shade under a thornless tree for our lunch (for me, a can of sardines so shaken up it was like fish puree in tomato sauce) and beers

Above: Dunno what Wry thinks he’s doing… the balding dad's glamor photo shoot is thataway, yawanker!

Above: Back on the bikes for a ride around the bottom of Longomot Crater. If I thought it would be easier going than going through the middle of the crater, it wasn’t. Maybe a bit more open, but every bit as rocky and today especially hot.

Above: Back down in the pan I explored the other day. I think I’d romanticized this spot a bit because I ventured down there solo. In reality, it’s just a hot, miserable place to be. Difficult riding and no breeze. Still, I was a bit impressed (or maybe surprised at my foolishness) that I’d been there solo… it’s far from home and hostile as hell.

Out of the lakepan, we made ripping time getting past Magadi on the rocky upper escarpment track. We were running out of day and both agreed heading straight for home was the best plan. We’d done ourselves a world of good getting out and were keen to wrap it up on a high note.

Above: Couple of bikers in their element.

Above: Wry giving her the beans on the home stretch.

Wry, another excellent ride. I think we’ve pretty much mastered these short ones… I’m ready for something longer! (Sure you’ve heard that before… from an ex girlfriend.)

Oink

 

[Chrisl]

I’m ready for something longer! (Sure you’ve heard that before… from an ex girlfriend.)

 

[Grunder]

Wry, another excellent ride. I think we’ve pretty much mastered these short ones… I’m ready for something longer! (Sure you’ve heard that before… from an ex girlfriend.)

Always a pleasure reading your stories.


Tell me, your phone mount. Is it the Xram one or a normal cheap jobby?
And your phone survives well in it despite all the dirt you ride?

 

[Osadabwa]

I’m ready for something longer! (Sure you’ve heard that before… from an ex girlfriend.)

@Chrisl - Hehehe... Wry has a long standing and very annoying habit of finding ways to put "that's what she said" or "reminds me of an ex girlfriend" behind the most benign phrases to make them into a sexual innuendo. Turnabout's fair play I reckon!

Always a pleasure reading your stories.


Tell me, your phone mount. Is it the Xram one or a normal cheap jobby?
And your phone survives well in it despite all the dirt you ride?

@Grunder - The saga of the navigation system has, for now been totally and completely solved. I ditched my Garmin Montana a couple of years ago in favor of a phone. I got so sick of Garmin's useless interface (Basecamp) and the way the devices themselves were unintuitive and annoying. Yes they have very accurate GPS, but so do phones and a phone can do the job of a Garmin plus everything else a phone does, and you can choose from different apps that people are developing that are miles beyond Basecrap. I use GuruMaps for $2 a month and I can email myself tracks to the phone. One click and they're loaded and I'm ready. Plus I can use Google Maps when I want to, or play music, or search for things on Google... infinitely better.

To answer your question, it's not a cheap setup exactly. I now have a Chinese rugged phone (Blackview 1500 or something like that, available in RSA, exact brand and number irrelevant I think) with a 10,000 mAh battery mounted to a Hondo Garage "Juiced Squeeze" mount on a RAM arm. The Squeeze has a wireless charging coil was the game changer for me. It keeps the battery charged 100% during my rides which used to always be the reason I was stuck with the Montana and it's wired housing. I'm the primary navigator on our group rides so I can't have my phone die, and when I go solo... same story. The XR650R doesn't have a battery either, so we have installed a small thing just for this job, but it's not enough to fully charge a phone at night usually. All told, that system probably cost $200 for the phone and $200 for the mount plus RAM bits. A new Montana is $700 and you still need a mount, so for my money, basically F*CK GARMIN!