2024 Big Red Pigs in Kenya - Season 9 and Doin' Fine!

[Osadabwa]

Welcome to the first big ride of 2024 for the Kenyan Big Red Pigs!

We've already been on our first of what I hope shall be many rides this year, exploring new areas in the Tugan and Ilkamasya Hills West of Bogoria/Baringo. Scroll down to get a taste of that until I get the whole report up. I will put all rides we do this year in this thread so if you see it pop to the top of the forum, we've been out hooliganing.

Meantime, feel free to browse the endless supply of Pig Fodder we've accumulated in the past 8 years. I’ve kept track of all the previous rides, which, for ease of reference for my lazy ass and yours, are linked here along with a wee summary of the highlights. Click on the titles to go back in time.

2016 – Pig Arrival… First impressions and tweaks, Rift Valley exploration, Magadi, Loita hills, Amboseli… figuring out which tyre lasts (answer, none of them), White Caps and kuku choma

2017 – Pig Initiation – New converts to the way of the Pig, more Rift Valley, breaking things, getting faster, new tracks, Shompole and Nguruman, Aberdares, Chyulu Hills & Kilimanjaro, Epic trip to the far north White Caps and kuku choma

2018 – Pig Maturation – A changing Rift Valley, New tracks and new Pig riders, a sunken XRR, wildlife, a Tanzania reunion with the Dar Bikers, North to Ol Olokwe, 5 XRRs to the north for Xmas, White Caps and kuku choma

2019 – Ultimate Pig Fest – Most active year ever, tons of valley, getting properly quick now, lots of solo riding, epic ride to Ethiopian border, epic ride to Suguta Valley, epic ride to the Mountain of God in Tanzania and much more including White Caps and kuku choma

2020 – Hellfire Corona Pig – Discovering Little Lake Magadi, four BRPs escape to Eburru Forest, epic ride to both sides of L Turkana and a return to Suguta Valley, many small ones to round out the year… White Caps and kuku choma!

2021 - Pig Resistance - Suswa galore including new routes, Little L Magadi, Lobomoto to Natron, assembling and breaking in my new XRR, epic ride to the North and Lake Logipi at last, some Spanish Vespa action, more epic riding to Mathews Range, Tugan Hills and Baringo, and finishing up the year by breaking my friend Kolobus' leg... shame!... and riding with Dakar Legend Joey "Juju" Evans... and White Caps and Kuku Choma!

2022 – The Reoinkening – Amboseli early on, some rides in the valley, first camp at clandestine Suswa overlook, farewell to Holesaw, ambitious and beautiful rides in the Loita Hills and finishing up the year with a wicked return to Northern Tanzania. Looking back, not half bad though it seemed at the time like we were never on the bike!

and

2023 - The Rise of the Octopig - A BRP Wedding, an Amboseli run with mixed company, day rides and the introduction of SUMO Pig, crazy weather, Torosei exploring, a Zambian detour on a 150cc Gatoma, up Olegorsailie and into Hell's Gate, a half dozen trips up Mt. Longonot all topped off with a successful attack on Mt. Oldoinyo Lengai and the Mosonik Plains up from Lake Natron in Northern Tanzania... and White Caps and Mbuzi Choma (we found Muturi's this year... really good mbuzi choma!) Much like last year, it seemed like we never rode, but there's evidence here to the contrary!

Now without further ado, let’s kickstart 2024! I shall leave you with a musical teaser and a map of our approximate route for the first ride of 2024.

Above: Just roll with it. Crank the volume and have a laugh at our expense! Make sure to leave us a review!

To be continued soon...

 

[Grunder]

Looking forward!!

 

[Osadabwa]

Braaaapy New Year, Pig fans!

The XR650Rs arrived to Kenya in February 2016, so by my math that means we’re beginning our 9th year riding the best Kenya (and N. Tanzania) has to offer on the bike most perfectly suited for it. Let’s go.

This year Panic and I set out on a slightly unusual inaugural ride. Rather than hit the open deserts for unadulterated speed, we opted for escarpment switchbacks, rocky hills and scorching valleys. Since it’s Kenya, the variety of scenery would be fantastic, and we were keen to explore new areas. On day one we tolerated a wild transport section out of Nairobi, past traffic, lane-splitting at 100kph and generally hauling ass to get to Nyahururu for a nice breakfast and the beginning of the first special stage.

Above: Three hours of racing around on tar can work up an appetite. The Thompson’s Falls Hotel has the cure.

Tar roads have spread into the rural areas like the mycelium of some planet consuming fungus, so even after breakfast we were on asphalt for half an hour before we could find dirt worth riding. I’d discovered another way from the Laikipia Escarpment which was great and not quite as treacherous as the one we usually use, so we made cracking time getting down to the villages and cliffside charcoal burner tracks above Lake Bogoria.

Above: Finding our descent… one or two wrong turns, but we got there in the end.

Above: The very top of the escarpment with the next shelf below and L. Bogoria behind

Above: Recently bulldozed and graded, this track is a lot less sketchy than our usual descent

Above: Early in the ride and already some cracking views from up high. That’ll be the theme of the ride really.

Off the escarpment, we zipped through the valley below and climbed a treacherous and very loose ascent to a track we’ve done in the past. In short order, we deviated from it in favor of another track that might give us a view into L. Bogoria. We toodled through a village and took up a stony singletrack through the bush. Presently it became obvious that it was a charcoal burner’s track, so it predictably dead-ended somewhere scrubby in a pile of burned soil and charcoal dust. As we were turning back, three guys came huffing and puffing up. They were from the village and took it upon themselves to direct us to a better overlook. I watched impressed as all three of them took off running down the track ahead of us at a respectable clip over uneven and rocky terrain; scratchy bush snagging their shirtsleeves.

Above: First attempt at a lookout.

Above: A better spot, courtesy of the fellows from the village

Off from the lookout, we reattained the track that leads high up and along the ridge, curling around back to the valley floor and a rocky river crossing. The top bit of the track is tidy enough, rocky but not too bad, but the descent gets the pulse racing. Whereas most of the time we try to ride as quickly as we can, on these loose stony descents, keeping momentum down is the name of the game.

Above: Nice views farther up the Bogoria/Baringo valley

Above: Down from the descents, a little cool splash in the stream before scaling another loose and rocky section.

We were now on the racetrack for Bogoria. We’ve been here before and enjoyed it a lot. It’s a quicker ride, but still not flat-out due to the many blind curves and pronounced elevation changes. It affords stunning views of the valley and we made cracking time down to the bottom where the Bogoria Spa Resort awaited. All in all it was a relatively short day by our standards. Having left at 7:30 we were there by 3PM.

Above: Last overlook before Bogoria

Above: Another shallow crossing

Above: Panic sends up a splash

Above: A final stoney descent to the valley bottom proper

Above: Panic doubletake on the river entering the N. end of Bogoria

At the bivouac early, we performed zero maintenance on our machines (endurance beasts that they are, they hardly broke a sweat today) and hit the bar straight away. From there, it was a rest and a dip in the pool until sundown, followed by a big meal and some Black Label back in the AC of the rooms. We did not suffer!

Above: Panic in a dancing mood by the poolside with an acacia tree full of chattering Maribou Storks behind. Take a good look, because this is what peak performance looks like!

Slept like the dead.

To be continued...

 

[Osadabwa]

Up with the birds and the monkeys we were breakfasted and on the “road” by 8ish. I’d planned a long day of hillclimbs and rockhopping and it started out hot and rough, just the way we like it. The valleys and scars near Bogoria are notoriously dry and rocky and I’d picked some nice ones to get the blood flowing. They took us on some foot and cattle paths, across some pedestrian bridges and up and over several little craggy ridges before reaching the Marigat Nakuru road.

Above: Vervet monkeys monkeying around

Above: The first track of the day… we eat baby heads for breakfast

Above: Soon a footpath leading down a steep section with switchbacks for extra points

Above: Panic prepares the descent

Above: And handles the rocks with care

Above: Down to the switchbacks

Above: We often see large leopard tortoises when we’re out here and this trip was no exception. They fit so perfectly in this environment… tough as stone, dust-covered, and timeless... much like the XR650R (less so of Panic...)!

Above: An awesome little section of foot-path along a decent dropoff edge

Above: Panic enjoying the morning

Above: The track kicks out at a tall foot-bridge over a mostly dry river

Above: with a precipitous and rocky climb on the other side for good measure

Above: Panic handling it nicely

Above: In the mood for a little anthill dancing

Above: Across the Marigat road already, we began to climb into the Ilkamasya Hills that stretch roughly from Eldama Ravine to Kabarnet according to my olde timey map

Above: Nice green place with a little river crossing

Above: Higher in the hills it’s very green. You can do worse than living here

Above: Semi-terraced fields and little homesteads decorate the hills

Above: At the end of a series of long climbs we were struck again by the dancing bug. We were feeling positively disco about life.

I’d picked tracks that avoided tarmac as much as possible and looked like they’d have good views, so nothing remotely sensible in the get-from-point-A-to-point-B sense. We were exploring and enjoying the variety of roads and interesting terrain.

Above: Nice wide descent, but don’t be fooled… it’s steeper and rougher than it looks

Above: Panic heading down

At some point, we deviated onto a lovely disused old 4x4 track and my bike started acting funny. At first it seemed like fuel (that’s the usual one in a world of Coke-bottle fuel stations) but after draining the bowl and seeing plenty of flow, we ruled it out. Flubba-flubbaing a bit further down the track and Panic suggests we check the plug. We both think it's unlikely though since we’ve never fouled one plug in 8 years of riding times multiple XRRs, but it was clearly something spark related.

Above: Checking out step 1 on the bike issues checklist

No sooner had I set down the fuel tank then Panic declares “Yep, I found it.” The earth wire had broken. So in half an hour from discovering we had a bike problem we’d diagnosed and solved the problem. Another few minutes to reassemble and we were on the road again. I have spent the last 8 years advocating for simple adventure bikes. I think this is just further evidence that we’re right about that. Previously our checklist for problems was very simple: 1) Drain Fuel. 2) Check kill switch for bad connection. Now we have to add 3) Check neutral wire. Doesn’t get any simpler.

Above: Six screws later and the seat and tank are off and the problem is solved.

Above: Reattach that little green buggar and off we go!

Above: Honestly, she’s just perfect… (I hear you saying “happy button!” Yes, I say, you've found the exception that proves the rule)!

Above: Back on the lovely track

Above: Across another small bridge.

Since mid-day we'd been up in the Tugan Hills, North of Kabarnet. We gave ourselves just enough time to explore one or two tracks before descending to the Kerio River valley for some big fast dirt that would take us to the bridge leading west. Once we’d finished absolutely ripping through all of that, we were at the base of the Elgeyo Escarpment climb just to the North of Iten.

Above: After a long rip, we were at the Kerio River Bridge

Above: Heading up our switchbacked 4x4 trail of choice. There are at least four of them climbing the escarpment north of Iten. So far I’ve taken three of them.

Above: This one starts out tame in the foothills

Above: But it climbs rapidly. Panic got cross-rutted and nearly looped out while performing a bit of an emergency escape maneuver

Above: Eventually it’s just switchbacks until you’re up in the shadow of the escarpment’s shoulder

Above: R shaped curves

Above: This photo actually tells the tale... time to get off the bikes and get on the beers!

Eventually the land leveled out a bit, the road became tame and we could cruise into Iten and check in at the quaint little Kilima Resort outside of town. We tried to book at the Kerio View where I’ve been in the past, but this was a nice change of pace. Family owned, not really a lodge as much as a homestay, we had a great time. The owner cooked us food (including home-made noodles and bread), and they had enough beers in the fridges to keep us happy. Warm beds, warm showers... what else does a happy biker need?

Above: A beautiful evening on the Elgeyo Escarpment edge

Above: Plenty of cool little homesteads nestled against the cliffs

Above: Kilima Resort parking… we were the only guests. The place is small and caters to paragliders during the season and some long-distance runners who hope the Kenyan juju will rub off on them while training at high altitude (sorry mate, it ain't gonna).

Above: A triumphant 280km, 9 hour day. Had we stayed exclusively in the mountains, we'd have only made half that distance. The Kerio dirt and about 50km of tar in the Tugan Hills helped us make it where we were going while the sun was still shining.

Above: Enjoying the last light, but ready to find somewhere warm! Iten is at 7200ft so it's chilly!

Above: Evening beers in the rooms out of the cold breeze

That night I slept like the dead... again.

To be continued...

 

[Osadabwa]

Another early morning greeted us with sunshine, which in Iten is not guaranteed. We nibbled our breakfast, kitted up and were ripping south down the (newly since I was there only 3 years ago) tar road along the escarpment to the Kaptere Junction which I discovered on Google Earth. 40 minutes of transport before the beginning of the day’s special stage. So be it. On Google it looked amazing with a zillion switchbacks going through an unlikely village perched on the escarpments side. In real life it was spectacular.

Above: A bit of dancing to thank the Kilima Resort for her hospitality. Don’t worry, I didn’t subject our hosts to my disco, that would have been cruel. You suckers on the other hand…

Above: First look at the descent from the Kaptere Junction

Above: I said to Panic, that road looks new. And it was… but new rocky dirty roads doesn’t imply easy going… soft soil and rocks that haven’t bedded in yet on off-camber switchbacks…. It was a knuckle biter at first as we worried about moving too quickly and playing airplane off the edge. It got a lot smoother towards the bottom where the older road had become overgrown with grass and animals grazed everywhere.

Above: Starting out… slow and steady... it's a long way down

Above: On the shelf where electrical poles and high-tension wires explained the arrival of the new road above. I suspect the village only had road access from the bottom for many years and the new wires brought the connector from the top as it was a lot more tricky to carve from the hillside and much more recent.

Above: This is a lovely place for a settlement

Above: Down farther to the old road with the 40+ switchbacks (I counted)

Above: So nice, this trail is really fantastic and all the folks were cool. At one point I spooked a calf on a tether and he went legging it up the trail. I waved down a guy and he came out to fetch the calf, smiling and saying thanks for the heads up. All during the trip, people would greet us, have a chat and then say “tuko pamoja” as they left. It just means “we are together” but it’s a nice way to say “you and your satanic red pigs are welcome here”.

Above: Nice sections of deep bush and forest tucked in the nooks and crannies... (reminds Wry of an ex girlfriend...)

Above: Panic pauses to let the cattle have a sip. Pig was good, she’d filled up in Iten.

Above: Down towards the bottom you could really see the altitude change we’d made in short order (actually it took over an hour… not exactly quick riding!)

The track kicked us out on the Kerio Valley floor right next to Sego Safari Lodge. It was 10:30… a tad early for our mid-morning beer, but we bikers aren’t sticklers for hard and fast rules so we had one anyway. Hot little place, Sego, but it has a pool and rooms and a fully stocked bar, so we may give it a go in the future if for some reason a lovely view and the cool air of Iten doesn’t appeal, or it’s pissing rain or we just can’t get there before dark. So yeah, it’s a distant second.

Above: 10:30 beer at the Rock Bar

Above: Sego was stocked… everything from the shittiest boxed wine, VAT-69 and Zappa to three levels of Glenfiddich... even had condoms visible behind the counter while the gospel music played on the TV. Progressive!

Above: Panic got so excited he had to dance!

From Sego we absolutely flew across the Kerio Valley floor, through the Fluorspar mine and turning East back into the heart of the Ilkamasya Hills where I’d picked another doozy of a track climbing up and down and in and out of the place. Again, it beat all expectations. Green and lovely, crusty climbs and exhilarating descents, long views and cool breezes. We were up there for a couple of hours, and I had booked us in for more, but the time of day was not on our side so we slammed a bit of old broken tar down to the Marigat Nakuru Road. There were several tar sections in our ride that were unexpected, but each of them were ripping good fun. After hours of slow going over 4x4 tracks, a bit of hooligan SUMO-style riding on switchbacked mountain roads is actually an excellent change of pace.

Above: Starting up into the Ilkamasya Hills

Above: We climbed and climbed into dark clouds, but thankfully we avoided the rain

Above: At one point the track went right to the tip of a narrow ridge. Amazing that somebody built that road for us. Cheers, engineers!

Above: The Knife Edge

Above: For “hills”, they’re pretty rugged

Above: I love the layers of topography thinning out into the distance

Above: Rocky descents

Above: Beautiful views

Above: Another little stream crossing

Above: Down on the tar road, we found go-juice and pilau at a filling station.

It was past noon by pilau time and I’d promised Panic we’d be at Thompson’s Falls by 5pm. It was time to let loose. The first hour or so was rocky valley riding. We were trying to go West to East, but the Great Rift Valley is full of cliffs that run North to South so it was a bit of a roundabout track. Still in no time we were ripping back up to the Laikipia Escarpment exit ramp, partly due to some unexpected tar. God help me I hate it. This place is going to be unrecognizable in 10 years! Sigh. It’s good for the people and the economy, Kenya is developing so quickly it’s a marvel, bla bla bla… dammit it’s still shit for dirt lovers like me!

Above: Spirited riding in the lowlands

Above: And still some nice views of the valleys

Above: The Pig loves this kind of riding. (Deflection? Never heard of it. Bucking? No idea what you’re on about mate. Steering damper? What for? Arm pump? F*k off, already…)

Above: And another huge Leopard Tortoise… hate to accidentally hit him at pace!

Above: The final descent before climbing back up to Nyahururu. Ordinarily all of this area would have created a photo blizzard but given where we’d come from it all looked mid-shelf.

At last, we reached the bottom of the ascent. I was feeling the afternoon buzz and threw myself at the hill climb with the throttle open and a grin plastered on my face. We raced to the top in no time, had a bit of a pause at the top to appreciate all the area we’d ridden this weekend. We could see the Ilkamasya Hills there, Lake Bogoria, the Kerio Valley and in the hazy distance you could just make out the Elgeyo Escarpment and Iten. Beautiful.

Above: Panic on the move

Above: The final overlook.

At the top, we began our evening transport section and really let it rip (no speed zones in Africa, dig? And the multitudes of speed bumps convert nicely into jumps at the right speed.). There was a dark cloud hanging over Nyahururu and I didn’t want to be caught in the afternoon rain again, so it was throttle stop riding and tickling the edges of the knobbies on the corners. We arrived at Thompson’s Falls at exactly 4:30PM with another 300km under the belt. I am The Navigator.

Above: Our awesome rooms at Thomson’s Falls… funky old 1930s colonial hotel is a bit run down but still has a lot of charm left in her... a lot like Panic!

Above: Pepper Steaks, beers and chips by the fire. Can’t be beat.

Above: When I finally teetered and tottered off to my room after polishing off the Black Label at Panic’s place, I banished my boots and socks to the bathroom for the night. It was like something died in there!

Above: Morning was cold and misty, so we didn’t rush. It was a planned transport section all the way to the Naivasha North Lake Road where we’d then climb the Mau and hit the SGR for home. But Mother Nature had sent the rain in buckets the day before and we were cool about it when the ambitious parts of that plan were cancelled in favor of smashing the throttles towards Muturi’s Roastman for lunch.

Above: North Lake Rd… lots of tar that day, but all good given what we’d been through. At the end of the day, it is ADV Riding, no? Isn’t tar what ADV riders do best?

Above: Still sunny at Rostman’s!

Above: A kilogram of roast goat, a couple of beers… no rush to get home and a great ride at our backs.

Not a bad way to kick off 2024. Let’s hope it’s only the beninging.

Almost forgot the short video. No dancing or disco this time, I promise... just the dulcet tones of the XR650R... and some bullshit from us.


Braaaap!

 

[Chrisl]

Really enjoyed this what a trip to start 2024, looking forward to some more this year from your "pen"!!

 

[Oubones]

Jealous, you really enjoy your riding. Thanks for all the effort.

 

[JonW]

Great pics and riding

 

[ClimbingTurtle]

Stunning, as usual - and thank you for making the time - appreciated!!

 

[RobLH]

Sublime, great way to kick off the new year.

 

[steveindar]

Now that was special

 

[Osadabwa]

.

 

[Osadabwa]

Day out with the DRZ Bros - AKA @mireodysse on the ‘gram

I was chasing my local tyre shop for some new Dunlop 606’s the other day. Rad254 in Nairobi is awesome. They get tyres in for reasonable prices etc, but always run out and don’t seem to understand the needs of the Big Red Pig! She chews them up, man! I always order them in pairs (if not six-packs) and yet I still find they’re out of stock when I come looking… wait… am I the bad guy? I digress.

On the call, I learn about a couple of young guys doing Africa on DRZ400s. Since I was out running errands anyway, I went by and met them. They’re a couple of brothers - 33 and 26 - almost the same age as my mate 620 and I were when we did our trans-Africa trip, but unlike us they’d picked the right bikes to do it on. So, totally in contrast to my usual salty and unfriendly disposition, I found myself volunteering to show them the best of what Kenya has to offer. At home I sifted through the hundreds of tracks I’ve ridden to find the choicest morsels to share, starting with the backyard Volcano overnighter, Mt. Suswa.

During the WhatsApp back and forth we hatched a plan to meet on Suswa for a bit of a shakedown. They’d head up to camp the night before and I’d meet them there in the morning. I escaped Nairobi after the school run and blitzed the top part of the SGR before deviating onto the tar half way to make it to the crater camp by 9AM. It had rained on Suswa and I skittered around in the mud a bit getting there, but I made it on time. Happily, they were prepped and ready to go. Just had to pack their camp chairs and spray chain lube… which I abused them about later.

Above: Upper camp at Mt. Suswa. They were stoked with the place. It was their first proper ride in Africa since arriving. They’d come through some tricky sections of Europe (something about gunshots in Albania on the TET and a crazy Turkish mechanic screwing up their forks) and frigging Iran (!) before shipping the bikes to Kenya from UAE. Their plans to come down the East of the continent were complicated by the wars in Sudan and Ethiopia. Megalomaniacs, tyrants, dictators and assholes always messing people’s riding…

Anyway, we were on bikes and riding in no time and while the rain made the top part of Mt. Suswa a bit slick with mud, it had obliterated the fesh-fesh on the descent which looked like this last time I went up there with Panic:



Our destination was Hell’s Gate Canyon and the going was easy. No fesh made it a quick ride over to the track leading to the lugga. Once we were through the yellow acacias, which locals were, predictably, chopping down to make charcoal… we found the little track to the lugga. Overgrown with green and absolutely teeming with white butterflies which had exploded in population with a few recent, heavy late rains, it was a nice approach to the canyon. The guys each tumbled once in the slick stuff (they are a bit heavy and on dual-sport tyres) but were all smiles as we entered the canyon.

Above: Charcoal smoldering to the right as I sagely expound upon the challenges of cooking fuel shortages in Africa leading to deforestation and the difficulty of changing the bla bla bla bla bla….

Above: Dutch DRZ Bros coming through the greenery

The lugga was wet. I knew it would be after the night’s rain, but it was very wet indeed. I promised the guys the type of volcanic soil that makes up the riverbed is very predictable and went ripping up to the end of the canyon, only stopping to see if they were nearby. At some point, the canyon narrowed and was blocked by a fallen Acacia (natural causes) so we stopped to reconnoiter.

Above: The end of the Hell’s Gate ascent now… deep water and a fallen tree

Above: Cousins. Honestly, what better bike for a long Africa ride than the DRZ? I think it’s a smart choice. The guys were a bit overloaded, but it’s hard to trim too much fat since they’re crossing so many degrees of latitude and planning to camp as much as possible. They’ll need warm clothes in July in Namibia, a camp stove, pots and pans, etc…

After a chat, we ripped out of the canyon the way we came in, taking time to get a few pics and vids. They carry a much better camera than my Samsung telephone offers, so I was chuffed they got a couple nice pics of me coming through the canyon at a decidedly quicker pace than the travel heavy DRZs.

Above: A doubletake leaving the narrows

Above: Coming out past the tower

Above: Yours truly giving her the beans through the flowing lugga

Above: While I was kind of waiting for the guys to take pics and enjoy the scenery, I decided to practice some quick, drifty turns. The soil was so solid it was hard to break it loose, so I was carving a tight, unbroken arc that was set to pass straight by a large stone. When I got there, my front wheel disappeared into the quicksand that the stone had collected around the uphill side, and I flew over the handlebars like a rag doll. Unhurt, I was laughing hard, but a guy emerging from the bush seemed worried sick with “pole pole pole pole” coming out of him like machine gun fire.

Above: I wish we had a good camera on our rides (and a drone, and an FPV camera etc), but I’m not compromising the ride to document it. Cellphones and point-and-shoots only for me. Still, a decent zoom makes for a better picture, so I'll take it!

Above: Downside of cellphones is that sometimes you miss the shot! He popped out of this hip-deep wash with no issues and all I got was this awkward landing shot.

Back out of the riverbed, the younger DRZ bro experienced a few issues. First, the huge cable lock he was carrying got caught in the rear wheel, luckily not breaking anything on the bike but destroying the lock (good, you don’t need it anyway). Then, just a bit down the road he discovers that his front brake hose had ruptured! So much for our plan to ride to Naivasha! We went into recovery mode and I aimed them back to Nairobi on the Suswa-Ngong tar road while I blitzed the SGR (Piggy needed dirt). We met at Muturi’s Roastman for a well-earned mbuzi leg and a couple of White Caps and I escorted the duo back to Nairobi in time to do the afternoon school run.

Above: Encountering a traffic jam in the mud

I had a great day out with these guys. Probably never see them again, but I hope they follow some of the tracks I shared with them before returning to the usual roads. I helped them find a replacement brake hose, and connected them with a couple of other useful people along the way that I hope they look up. I’ve tried to explain how Kenya and Tanzania are the last truly wild places in Africa between here and Namibia. Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi, Malawi… hordes of people. Zambia and Zimbabwe… all Miombo woodland and flat. I tried to get them to downsize their kit, splurge on better tyres and spend some time improving their bikes (firm up the number plates, install smaller indicators, set up their suspension and use the clickers) for the challenges of Africa which have humbled us all at times. We’ll see what they do.

In any case, they’ve got a great attitude, good bikes, lots of time and youth. It should be epic. Go well fellas!

 

[geopat]

What a lekka thing to do for those guys and another great ride too

 

[Rydog]

Up with the birds and the monkeys we were breakfasted and on the “road” by 8ish. I’d planned a long day of hillclimbs and rockhopping and it started out hot and rough, just the way we like it. The valleys and scars near Bogoria are notoriously dry and rocky and I’d picked some nice ones to get the blood flowing. They took us on some foot and cattle paths, across some pedestrian bridges and up and over several little craggy ridges before reaching the Marigat Nakuru road.

Above: Vervet monkeys monkeying around

Above: The first track of the day… we eat baby heads for breakfast

Above: Soon a footpath leading down a steep section with switchbacks for extra points

Above: Panic prepares the descent

Above: And handles the rocks with care

Above: Down to the switchbacks

Above: We often see large leopard tortoises when we’re out here and this trip was no exception. They fit so perfectly in this environment… tough as stone, dust-covered, and timeless... much like the XR650R (less so of Panic...)!

Above: An awesome little section of foot-path along a decent dropoff edge

Above: Panic enjoying the morning

Above: The track kicks out at a tall foot-bridge over a mostly dry river

Above: with a precipitous and rocky climb on the other side for good measure

Above: Panic handling it nicely

Above: In the mood for a little anthill dancing

Above: Across the Marigat road already, we began to climb into the Ilkamasya Hills that stretch roughly from Eldama Ravine to Kabarnet according to my olde timey map

Above: Nice green place with a little river crossing

Above: Higher in the hills it’s very green. You can do worse than living here

Above: Semi-terraced fields and little homesteads decorate the hills

Above: At the end of a series of long climbs we were struck again by the dancing bug. We were feeling positively disco about life.

I’d picked tracks that avoided tarmac as much as possible and looked like they’d have good views, so nothing remotely sensible in the get-from-point-A-to-point-B sense. We were exploring and enjoying the variety of roads and interesting terrain.

Above: Nice wide descent, but don’t be fooled… it’s steeper and rougher than it looks

Above: Panic heading down

At some point, we deviated onto a lovely disused old 4x4 track and my bike started acting funny. At first it seemed like fuel (that’s the usual one in a world of Coke-bottle fuel stations) but after draining the bowl and seeing plenty of flow, we ruled it out. Flubba-flubbaing a bit further down the track and Panic suggests we check the plug. We both think it's unlikely though since we’ve never fouled one plug in 8 years of riding times multiple XRRs, but it was clearly something spark related.

Above: Checking out step 1 on the bike issues checklist

No sooner had I set down the fuel tank then Panic declares “Yep, I found it.” The earth wire had broken. So in half an hour from discovering we had a bike problem we’d diagnosed and solved the problem. Another few minutes to reassemble and we were on the road again. I have spent the last 8 years advocating for simple adventure bikes. I think this is just further evidence that we’re right about that. Previously our checklist for problems was very simple: 1) Drain Fuel. 2) Check kill switch for bad connection. Now we have to add 3) Check neutral wire. Doesn’t get any simpler.

Above: Six screws later and the seat and tank are off and the problem is solved.

Above: Reattach that little green buggar and off we go!

Above: Honestly, she’s just perfect… (I hear you saying “happy button!” Yes, I say, you've found the exception that proves the rule)!

Above: Back on the lovely track

Above: Across another small bridge.

Since mid-day we'd been up in the Tugan Hills, North of Kabarnet. We gave ourselves just enough time to explore one or two tracks before descending to the Kerio River valley for some big fast dirt that would take us to the bridge leading west. Once we’d finished absolutely ripping through all of that, we were at the base of the Elgeyo Escarpment climb just to the North of Iten.

Above: After a long rip, we were at the Kerio River Bridge

Above: Heading up our switchbacked 4x4 trail of choice. There are at least four of them climbing the escarpment north of Iten. So far I’ve taken three of them.

Above: This one starts out tame in the foothills

Above: But it climbs rapidly. Panic got cross-rutted and nearly looped out while performing a bit of an emergency escape maneuver

Above: Eventually it’s just switchbacks until you’re up in the shadow of the escarpment’s shoulder

Above: R shaped curves

Above: This photo actually tells the tale... time to get off the bikes and get on the beers!

Eventually the land leveled out a bit, the road became tame and we could cruise into Iten and check in at the quaint little Kilima Resort outside of town. We tried to book at the Kerio View where I’ve been in the past, but this was a nice change of pace. Family owned, not really a lodge as much as a homestay, we had a great time. The owner cooked us food (including home-made noodles and bread), and they had enough beers in the fridges to keep us happy. Warm beds, warm showers... what else does a happy biker need?

Above: A beautiful evening on the Elgeyo Escarpment edge

Above: Plenty of cool little homesteads nestled against the cliffs

Above: Kilima Resort parking… we were the only guests. The place is small and caters to paragliders during the season and some long-distance runners who hope the Kenyan juju will rub off on them while training at high altitude (sorry mate, it ain't gonna).

Above: A triumphant 280km, 9 hour day. Had we stayed exclusively in the mountains, we'd have only made half that distance. The Kerio dirt and about 50km of tar in the Tugan Hills helped us make it where we were going while the sun was still shining.

Above: Enjoying the last light, but ready to find somewhere warm! Iten is at 7200ft so it's chilly!

Above: Evening beers in the rooms out of the cold breeze

That night I slept like the dead... again.

To be continued...

 

[Osadabwa]

Big Red Pigs, a T7, one Trout and an Elephant​

Part I - Getting Gone

Wry wanted to take bikes on a trout fishing trip up Mt. Kenya and I agreed despite being a terrible fisherman. While hatching the plan, Wry told me it’d be him and several mates, so I felt relieved that maybe I could just quietly back out as the day grew nigh. But as time went on, it became clear that Wry doesn’t have any mates, so I felt bad and decided to commit. We kept saying: This is a fishing trip, not a bike trip. But looking back on it, it was a bike trip for sure! It ticked all the boxes including mechanical issues, riding mayhem, good banter and run-ins with charismatic African megafauna. Let’s go!

Above: Bike packed, me thrilled with my 17-pocket vest and showing my friends what I think of their opinions about it and a stash of very un-African flies which I have never used and never will.

In the meantime, we’d met a guy (we’ll call him Officer Flattop Dawg unless he fights me about it) from South Africa who is up here working and had yet to get out on his T7 properly. Panic had vetted him on a day ride to the valley and declared “he can ride”, and Kolobus informed us that he has a finisher’s badge from the Roof of Africa, so perhaps his self-depricating texts were an attempt to cover up his true skill level. Subterfuge, a sense of humour and a bit of mystery. It seemed he’d be a good fit!

So, Friday at 2pm in the blazing heat we took off from a petrol station on Thika Super Highway. We abused our gnarly off-road bikes on a 100% tarmac sprint to Chogoria, with Wry in the lead weaving through cars on the two-lane roads, overtaking (and undertaking) on the single lanes and just basically hooning it (found out later that both guys would have happily gone faster… jeez). In Embu we faced an onslaught of bodabodas ricocheting off of us, literally in one case, and were just getting into more calm territory when Wry’s rear tyre blew out catastrophically. He swerved and danced a bit but managed to pull off unscathed, relieved that it had happened at low speeds going straight instead of on one of the bends we were railing at 100kph just moments before…

Above: Technical pitstop. With the big tank, my piggy looks as big as the T7, but looks are deceiving… T7 is a heavier girl by over 50kg!

It was getting close to dark, so we all pitched in to help Wry fix his puncture. Flattop Dawg used his considerable mass to support the motorbike while I did most of the cussing and tyre installation. I was on my knees dropping F-bombs left and right as usual, and finally got the tyre back in and stood up. Standing there was a skinny kid who, sweet as a sugar plum says to me: “Excuse me, are you a f*cking American?” Wry bursts out laughing, Dawg almost falls over, and I’m just stunned. I say, “what?” He repeats, “Are you a f*cking American?” To which I simply must agree, “Well, yes… yes I am!” The guys were crying with laughter. What a legend, that kid, very perceptive. I encouraged him to continue asking that question to any Americans he meets in the future, especially in church!

Above: Yes, I’m a f*cking American.

Soon we were sucking on cold White Caps at Anabas Riverside Cottages. A highly overpriced, run-down place which offers crumbling rooms but good beds, broken or missing toilet-seats but great meals, cold beers but extremely slow service all in a lovely riverside setting. Basically, it’s a confused place but I’d suggested we stay there because it was close to the fishing and I didn’t want to be waking up “early bells”, “crack of dawn” or “first light” as Wry was sure to demand. All in all, the ramshackle weirdness of the joint fit us very well.

Above: Wry… TP’d my bathroom after a couple of wheekees, at the Anabas

After the beers, a huge meal of kuku and mbuzi with chips and a few sips of whisky (Wry and I) and bottle of Brandy (Top Dawg), we crashed and dreamed of cartwheeling bodas and hungry trout.

Slept like the dead

To be continued...

 

[Osadabwa]

Part II - Up the Matonga

Up reasonably early, we all tried to take showers but everyone’s room had only scalding water in the pipes and breakfast took a full hour to arrive despite us putting in our order the night before. But the delay gave us a bit of time to appreciate our surroundings and try to patch Wry’s tube. That tube by the way was troubling us… it had been rubbed through, not punctured. Normally that means the tyre itself is chewing the tube… and if it did it once, it’d do it again… I suspected we’d be revisiting this moment. (That’s called foreshadowing.)

Above: View from breakfast at Anabas is really nice

Above: Rooms look decent and funky enough from the outside

Above: Then up close you realise the place is clad in unpainted sheets of compressed UHT milk containers, the soap dispenser doesn’t dispense and the doors either won’t open fully, or won’t stay open because the whole place is buckled and warped. Images not featured on the website, mind you… At least I was in an “Executive” room.

Finaly breakfasted, we ripped up to the Matonga River trailhead (only delayed twice more as Wry’s bags kept falling loose…), changed into fishing attire (I’d forgotten trousers and borrowed a pair from one of the rangers. They were… form fitting let’s say!) and started up the trail. Until that point, nobody had once mentioned that the trail was absolutely abuzz with Tsetse flies, so that was a nice surprise. On top of it all, Officer Flattop was in the process of recovering from a ripped calf muscle (which he beggared 2 days previous), so he was loving the walk I’m sure… though he never whinged. Buffalo of a guy, old Dawg.

Above: Getting ready to set off – squeezing into my borrowed jeans like making sausage.

Above: Tsetse corridor… very beautiful and green though

At the weir, we tied on flies and set off upriver. Wry went right, I went left, and Dawg stayed put since not only was his calf buggared, but he was barefoot as well. Didn’t stop him from hiking quite a distance upstream over rocks and spiky logs though. Just like all my previous Kenyan fly-fishing adventures, I spent my hours comically fighting my way through the forest, fecklessly trying to reach the water’s edge. Then when I got there, I spent the rest of the time trying not to lose my fly on a tree fern or snag it on some submerged obstruction. What I didn’t do, what I never do, was spend a lot of time reeling in the lunkers I was (and have repeatedly been) promised. I was skunked. Dawg was too. Only guy who caught anything, aggravatingly, was Wry and it was a nice Brown. Congrats, Wry. You’re the Kingfisher. Huzzah, you buggar. Dawg and I didn’t get a single hit.

Above: Beautiful place, the Matonga

Above: Holes like this are surely just prowling with big Browns… I’m speculating here because I couldn’t catch one if it jumped out and landed in my lap

Above: Barefoot Dawg fits the part but caught as much as me. Zippo.

Above: We bow down to the Kingfisher! Wry the man’s man! Outdoorsman of note! Legend of the first order!

Above: After several fruitless hours, I’d lost most of my flies and destroyed the jeans I’d borrowed. I stumbled back to the beginning and found old Dawg plum tuckered out. But it was only noonish. We had ambitious plans for the afternoon!

To be continued...

 

[Osadabwa]

Part III - Scrambling to Lake Ellis and the Elephant-encounter

At 11,300ft up Mt Kenya’s flank on the lovely Chogoria trail, Lake Ellis is the highest place you can drive up Mt Kenya on this side of the mountain. After the Matonga, we donned kit and headed up. It was an easy going dirt road for 99% of the ride. Only one section was rough, and it was really rough. In the lead, I made it only about halfway then stalled out (the carb didn’t like the altitude change one bit). Officer Dawg, our own personal Pol Tarres rips past me on the left only to lose the rear on a loose stone and send the T7's 200+ kgs crashing down in a dusty heap. A little more ungainly than your Roof of Africa wheels, eh Officer Flattop? Wry and I helped him right the behemoth and he made it the rest of the way with minimal effort.

Above: The Dawg goes down! Bye bye pretty paint job!

Above: But he’s up again and extricating himself skilfully from the mess. Yep. He can ride.

I awkwardly pulled and pushed my bike in back down the hill in disgrace. Wry and I were very unsure whether we should give it another go. It was really loose stuff and we didn’t know how much of it there would be beyond the immediate section. Then a 4x4 came by and told us this was the only tricky spot. By now, Dawg had ambled back down within earshot and was egging us on. The peer pressure broke through my pansy-assed concern for my own safety and pride. I got the bike going (adjusted the idle up so she wouldn’t stall) and gave her the beans. Up on the pegs I cleared it in one, slightly flailing but ultimately successful push. Wry was next, but dumped his bike where Dawg had done the first time, so we gave him a boost and we were on our way. I like every ride to have one section that’s just that little bit beyond our skill level. That's how we improve. With Dawg in the mix, we might be finding these more often as time goes on…

Above: Wry and The Officer right Wry’s fallen Piggy

Above: Then he gives it the beans. Lucky for him the dust is obscuring his landing legs in full paddle-mode, cause that’d be embarrassing…

Lake Ellis was only a few corners away. The sun was out, the peak of Mt Kenya was showing and the lake was shimmering in a grass-tufted depression. Quite a number of hikers and campers were there, but we were the only ones fishing. I overheard someone saying “now that’s the life… show up on bikes for a bit of fishing”. Damn straight, stranger. For me, it was the nicest fishing of the trip. Not much breeze, so casting was easy and the beautiful, open surroundings made it for me. Didn’t hurt that I got a nice strike, but it broke the line immediately, so I remain forever a feckless fishing failure.

Above: Arriving to L. Ellis, the peaks of Mt Kenya behind

Above: Flattop goes down to the lake campsite

Above: Wry trying, and failing, to coax that monster he keeps going on about to take the bait. Skunked.

Above: He casts!

Above: He’s got one! Wait a minute… he’s facing the wrong way. Skunked.

We fished until 5:30 but had to make haste to get back out of the park gate by 6. We took turns in the lead to get a few pics and enjoyed leaving the high country behind in the fabulous afternoon light.

Above: Dawg in his pocketless chainsaw trousers and leather jacket poses with the T7 at L. Ellis

Above: The boys heading out

Above: Me making tracks with the peak just being swallowed by evening cloud

Above: Wry cocks up the descent at the sketchy section… feet a-flailing. Dawg shouting: Stand up! On your pegs, you feckless buggar! Etc… Luckily this time we have images.

Above: Yours truly skittering effortlessly down. No notes from Flattop. 10/10 from the South African judge. Also a nice splash in the stream farther down.

Above: A nice one of Wry with the two mountain roads behind. Next time we’ll venture on the other track which the guys at the gate said was “not good”… tempting!

Above: Piggy above the clouds

Above: Nearing dusk back into the forest

Then we encountered elephants. I was third in line in the forest. I came upon Wry and Dawg waving at me from the road. I killed the engine and rolled up. Elephants ahead, says Dawg. Four of them. They’ve just gone into the trees on the left. This is fine. We’ve seen eles before on rides. So, Dawg starts up and goes ahead. Wry follows a few meters back. I follow Wry at the same distance, all of us looking to see if we can catch a glimpse of the eles off to the left.

Suddenly, a young male Elephant steps in front of me on the road from the right! Wry had just gone past and this guy appears with his ears flapping and his pecker out. I’m way too close for comfort… he could close the gap in a second. If I were in a 4x4, I’d calmly put her in reverse and idle backwards a bit… just give him some space. But on the bike, I was trapped there. Not knowing what to do, I dismounted but kept the engine running. My plan was to keep my Pig between me and the stroppy elephant. He kept tossing his head and flapping his ears, crossing the road, but closing on me a bit all the while. At last, he reached the edge of the road and turned right at me. I’m freaking out. Heart racing, I just threw my hands as high in the air as I could and shouted. He blasted out a fantastic trumpet, twisted his head at me one more time and disappeared into the bush. I got back on the Pig and twisted the throttle to the stop!

Above: Post ele encounter. Beware travellers, that dark forest hides monsters!

Adrenaline pumping, I’d built up a powerful thirst. Flattop had as well (though his was from dehydration), so we went into Chogoria in search of some Brandy to take with us before heading to the lodge for beers. Wry’s headlight was broken, so he went straight to the lodge. On the way there, he realised his rear tyre was going flat again… our fears were coming true.

Above: Officer Flattop Van der Dawg fresh from grog shopping

Above: That night’s meal was all bones and sauce. Delicious, but seriously. I still look like I’m seeing the elephant.

While putting back some very refreshing White Caps, we made a plan to fix Wry’s tyre. We were sure the inside of the tyre was cut and was chewing up the tubes as it flexed. In TZ in December, he’d smashed a stone hard enough to bend the rim badly and immediately blow out a 4mm HD tube. This is because he rides like a c***. We suspected it had done more damage than initially thought. So, we got a boda rider to buy us an inner tube we could use as a sleeve in the morning, and tucked into our huge meal. After dinner, we were at it again outside the rooms. Grog flowed, stories were shared, lies were told. Wry was falling asleep the whole time like a little old man. Maybe being a successful fisherman can be exhausting. I wouldn’t know for sure.

Slept like the dead despite dreaming of being squashed like a grape.

To be concluded...

 

[Osadabwa]

Part IV - Repairs, more successful fishing, and home.

First thing in the morning, between tea and breakfast, Wry removed his wheel and we saw the damage. As suspected, the hit in TZ had been hard enough to cut a three inch slice in the carcass. We implemented the sleeve plan, inflated the tyre and were off back up to the Chogoria gate for one last go with the flies in the Maara River. Dear reader, can you predict how it went? Correct. We fought through nettles and brambles and all manner of scratchy foliage to slash lovely pools with lines and flies and produced not a single strike. It was another excellent day of fishing in Kenya!

Above: Repairing the tyre. I’m afraid that one’s destined to be donated. Hard to have faith in a tyre when the carcass goes. Better to give it to someone on a lighter bike doing slower riding.

Above: Between failing to catch fish and getting tangled in the brambles, I amused myself by looking at all the fresh elephant tracks and laughing at the nettle field our barefooted, short pants bedecked South African brute fought his way through in order to say he went fly fishing in Kenya!

Above: I finally gave up the fight when the sole of my shoe vanished. I figured it was a sign… it was difficult pulling myself away from the epic success I'd been having, but alas.

Above: Walking back out. It is lovely place. And so nice to be out of Nairobi

And that was basically that. It being a Sunday, it was far less hectic riding home, but still just a long slog on an XRR on tar. We stopped about halfway for a soda and some chips, rested our asses and reflected on the ride a bit, vowing to make a plan to get back out there soon.

Above: Half-way rest spot and parting shots. Dawg, you’re a good egg, let’s ride some more. (Just an aside here Dawg... if you were an egg, you’d be able to stand up on your narrow end, which would be neat.)

Back on the bikes, we hit Thika Road with Wry in the lead again and hooned it back home, faster than everyone else on the road apart from one tubby little buggar on a baby-blue Burgman Scooter lookalike who would repeatedly let Wry pass only to overtake him and disappear in traffic again. Wanker. Well I had the last laugh and brought home the trophy for the hairy-chested fisherbike boys. He’d taken my exit and I caught up to him quickly on the small roads of Nariobi, choked as always with afternoon traffic. Gave him a salute while launching over a speedbump and disappearing into the afternoon sun. Let’s hear it for small victories!


Braaaaap!

 

[Heimer]

Such a lekker ride report.