XR650R Rebooted... In Kenya

[Osadabwa]

At it again. New tracks beckoning, we dropped into the valley as usual and blasted to what we hoped would be a new track to add variety to our menu. The beginning looked promising, with a stony double-track skittering off into the bush, but it rapidly disintegrated into cattle wanderings and met up with a dreaded Maasai fence… a modern one this time, with smooth wire and posts… no way to wheelie over. At the corner was a “gate” made up of thorn bushes, so it looked like there might be hope after all… alas. Once inside the plot, there was no escape. But, there’s no use crying over the slow crawl of modernity, so we backtracked to Ewaso for a cup of tea and a mandazi.

Above: Panic on the main valley road

Above: Panic makes his way through the “gate”

Above: A nice cuppa tea at Investment Hotel, Ewaso Kedong

In Ewaso, the waitresses have become familiar with us and always take our photos. This time, Panic spent a bit of effort trying to explain about the need to properly light your subjects, as we were backlit by a window and the girls couldn’t figure out why their pics turned out too dark. I wonder where our pictures end up? Maybe they have a blog.

Our failed attempt at our first new track did not deter us. I had scoped out several others on Google Earth, so we decided to ride awhile and just pick one that looked good. Just outside of town, though, I stopped to inspect a bit of Kenya’s famous jua-kali infrastructure: a line of electrical poles had been planted without a guy-wire, but some clever sod sorted it out: just wrap a wire around a sapling. It’s hard to be a tree in Kenya: first you escape being butchered for charcoal and now this… either way, people just look at you as a quick-fix for their energy woes.

Above: The clever guys at Kenya Power at their best… the logo I think is supposed to resemble an incandescent light bulb, but it seems the glass is broken… that’s appropriate

Above: A nice look-out spot among a few larger acacias that haven’t yet been brought into the national power grid.

We rode toward Najile until we found our next possible wonder-track. This one I made knowing full-well it could be impassible as it descended a rugged canyon, but it looked substantial enough to be worth exploring so we gave it a go. It didn’t take long for the fairly well-used but rocky double-track to peter out into a used-once-and-abandoned one. Often, these are some of the best, but the origins of the track soon became clear: it was the access way for a construction vehicle to build a concrete rain-catchment thingy at a seasonal waterfall in the canyon. Once we’d skirted the small cliff, the track became a choose-your-own-adventure affair with many rocky or thorny dead-ends. We surmounted a few boulder strewn mini-passes, but were eventually blocked by a rock-pile on one side and a massive canyon-within-a-canyon-within-the-Great-Rift-Valley on the other. That was the endpoint for us.The spot was beautiful and seemingly untroubled by mankind. Goats hadn’t even pulled the grass out by the roots yet.

Above: Awesome Blossoms

Above: Some of the track was a kind of slick-rock, probably an olde volcanic flow off Mt. Suswa nearby

Above: The path narrows

Above: A bit of a scramble before dead-ending at the cliff

Above: Pigs O’ the Valley

Above: If the track had stayed like this, we’d have been good to go… alas

We admired the canyon and looked around on foot for a work-around, having seen boda-boda tracks that made us think there must be a way, but it looked like they had to have carried their ride over the stones. Having decided that portaging the Pigs over one rockpile after another all day in the heat wasn’t the best way to spend a day, we followed our track back to the main road, up to Najile for a warm and unsatisfying soda before splatting toward Olepolos where the usual kuku choma and icy White Caps awaited.

Above: Backtracking

Above: Another police helicopter fly-by… they must love Olepolos as much as we do. Mysteriously, Panic’s Trail Tech Vapor’s magnetic pickup got mangled somewhere along the road… can’t figure that one out.

Although we’d only gone 175 km by the time we left Olepolos, I was in need of fuel. My translucent fuel tank showed about two fingers’ of gas on the RHS which I know from experience won’t get me home, so we stopped at the roadside for a liter or two. The joker who came first tried to charge me 150 shillings each but settled on 100 after I suggested he was taking the piss. Even in the deep bush, 150 would be outrageous, but you can’t blame the jerk for trying… dishonesty being a national pastime and all. We blasted all the way home, crossing the underside of the Ngongs in 9 minutes flat and arriving at our doorstep 45 minutes after leaving Olepolos… try that on a BMW.

Above: Rural Motorcycle Spares… your one-stop-shop for boda-boda crap and expensive fuel.

To my amazement, the Maxxis Desert IT rear tyre I installed 500 km ago still has knobs on it! No big chunks have flown off and, although it’s lost a bit of its roundness (exacerbated in the photo by the fact that it was nearly flat… something I didn’t even notice a day later), there’s still plenty of life left in it. That’s good news because our plan for the coming week is an overnighter down deep in the valley, swooping near the Tanzania border and Mt. Shompole. That is, if it isn’t just a muddy mess… 12 hours of rain and counting happening here now.

Until next time: Oink  :snorting:

 

[BlueBull2007]

Yep those maxis are good. I like them and Michelin deserts.

 

[Prototype]

Your reports makes me want to swing a leg over and just go ride! Thanks man, and enjoy.

Will maybe give those Desert IT's a go once my cross IT's have worn out. Might be a while...

 

[Hentie bm]

Awesome  :thumleft:

 

[Osadabwa]

After two months of brilliant day-riding, the pigs were scratching to get farther afield. An overnight trip was again in order. This time, the plan was to return to the Ewaso Ngiro campsite on day 1, exploring new tracks along the way, and attempting on day 2 to find a southern passage to the Loita Hills below the Shompole Reserve but above the Tanzanian Border. So, off we went.

Above: The flooded meadow had our tootsies damp right away.

Above: Our perennial first-stopping point. Fully loaded, we weren’t as nimble as when we’re on a day-ride, but the Pigs still make a fine platform for fast, off-road travelling.

Above: We hustled down Ngong 1 to the tar, made a 20km zip to Oltepesi for a morning cup of chai and a chapatti and swung South on the Butt-Brothers Farm track past Olegorsaile to the hard stone-road leading to Mile 46 one way and the GSU barracks the other.

Above: Dust busting

The first half of the day was spent navigating familiar ground. We blasted down a track we’d taken a few day-rides ago and then began to explore a short-cut that looked like it would slice off a 20 km stretch of tarmac and drop us into the Sulphurous, sweltering town of Magadi. On Google Earth, the track was obvious enough, but on the actual Earth, it was elusive. We spent 20 minutes searching but had no luck. It was worth it though: there were two groups of ostriches, zebras, gazelles and impala by the herd and even a pair of cow-sized Eland hanging out back there. A mini wildlife safari atop the Big Red Pigs. Brilliant.

Above: Hunting and failing to find the short-cut track

Above: Dramatic motorbike portraits contrasting the harshness of the terrain with the beauty and power of the machine (yes, I’m a dork)

Above: Still lost, but I found an anthill

Abandoning our short-cut, we splatted the rest of the dirt track through a couple of very large water holes down to the tar by the GSU camp and down to Magadi. Tar’s not fun really, but the ride is nice, with views of the white-rimmed lake on one side and the black stony escarpment on the other. In Magadi we dined on a meal of green –gram and rice with an ice-cold Pepsi, bought fuel and water and set off on the last dusty stretch to the campsite at the foot of the Nguruman Escarpment.

Above: Crossing mirror-like Lake Magadi

Above: A pair of Maasai and their cattle making their way across the caustic Lake

The 50 km or so to the campsite is an XR’s dream. Fast and rough in equal measure, it’s a road that keeps your throttle hand happy and your senses on edge. We stopped the action only briefly to capture a long photo or two, and when a whirlwind was dancing so close to the road I had to interact with it. It was like a live animal, moving slowly along, just out of reach with its tail twenty stories into the sky, digging a wandering spiral into the pebbly ground. Very cool.

Above: The Nguruman overlook

Above: Tell me you don’t want to race down that road?
About an hour after leaving Magadi, we were at the riverbend campsite on the Ewaso Ngiro river. The muddy waters looked exactly as they did last time we were there. The only notable differences included a slightly more pleasant temperature this time of year and a much less fatigued body. The adjustments we’ve made to our Pigs since the last ride in terms of suspension have made a world of difference. Still, once the tents were up, a dip in the river was a happy event. Having arrived just shy of 3 O’clock, we had plenty of time to enjoy the quiet and watch the birds dive-bomb the water. I built a stone cairn to throw stones at, and was thoroughly schooled by my ugly German riding partner who, with Panzer-like accuracy, obliterated my creation time and again while I lobbed duds six ways from Sunday. As night fell, we poured our cups full, settled in for a three-course British military meal and watched the stars wheel around in the sky. I nearly fell asleep leaning against my wheel but a toad woke me up trying to burrow under my leg, then I was seeing skulls in the stars and a Neanderthal head in the trees, so I figured it was time to call it a day.

Above: Arrived!

Above: The riverbend campsite on the Ewaso Ngiro… yes, technically we could have been swept away by a flash flood in the night, but you only live once.

Above: Soaking in the muddy river

Above: Happy to be here, folks!

Above: With the tents set up and dusk approaching, Chef Panic lights up the stove.

[flash=900,600]https://www.youtube.com/v/SVHPJFzHhJM[/flash]
Above: A bit of video to round out the day

Tomorrow’s another day. Stay tuned.  :snorting:

 

[Fudge]

:ricky: Really enjoying this, thanks!

 

[Osadabwa]

Up with the birds and clear-headed thanks to the moderate booze intake of the night before, we had coffee, splashed the sleep away in the river and decamped, ready to see what’s what with the southern way to the Loita Hills. We rode south out of the camp on a double track through a group ranch brimming with antelope and zebra, baboons and the occasional giraffe. The earlyish light made the shin-height yellow grass shine, but I was aware that lion could easily hide in that stuff, so I kept a wary eye open  for whiskers and the throttle hand primed for twisting.

Above: That looks a little bit like Africa, don’t it?

Above: The pigs looking like plump impala on the savanna...

Eventually we reached the entry gate to Shompole, but the guys there assured us that, although we could enter the conservation area and could pass to the other side, there was no way in hell we’d be able to climb the escarpment on bikes. Sometimes people underestimate the Pig, but something in the way they talked about the trail (a very steep hike, no bodas go there, only cattle) made us believers – someday, we’ll investigate the track from the top-side looking down. Unfortunately for us, our alternate plan for the day, to ride East toward Shompole town and back around to Magadi, was also scuppered by equally adamant reports of a washed out road and a wheel-swallowing, black-cotton swamp. It was time for plan C.

Above: Charismatic megafauna of the Nguruman steppe

Above: Not a bad place to spin your wheels, Kenya.

A bit disappointed, we turned back North, dusted back to the main road, passed by the wee village to top up fuel and pointed ourselves toward Naivasha, 120 off-road-kilometers away. The track starts out rip-snorting fast but very quickly disintegrates into a bulldozer track over rough, large, loose stones. It was slow going, and Panic was having issues with his idle; it was kind of kaspluttery and inconsistent and made the slow bits over the rocks harder than they needed to be. I was loving my softer fork springs and lighter weight fork oil. Compared to the last time we were there, I was in heaven.

After half an hour or so of the rough and rubbly stuff, the trail pays off big with fast but tricky riding all the way up to Mosiro. Some quick sections were punctuated with deep perpendicular washouts that were best handled by lifting the front and blasting over each in turn on the rear wheel. Even loaded, the Pig is equal to the task. Amazing bike.

Above: Panic stops to do some checkups… I admire some purdy purple flowers among the thorns

Above: Now that’s an interesting haircut

Above: At Mosiro for a quick liter or two of fuel and a Coke, Panic and I were surrounded by curious onlookers very keen to figure out the GPSs. Personal space being an entirely Western concept, it was snug and fragrant at times, but all friendly.

Above: Look, a blidge!

From Mosiro North was new territory for us. It wasn’t rugged going, mostly a decent dirt track that had been exposed to one too many rainy seasons, but it was fast and fun. After awhile, we started noticing our eardrums popping, and the temperature started to cool. Suddenly, I crested a corner and came upon a rolling wheat field where only moments before there had been nothing but scraggly goat scrub and acacia thorns. Amazing transition. From the wheat field, it wasn’t far to the tar road linking Narok and Mai Mahieu and the little village where we stopped for beans, rice, coke and fuel. By this time, Panic’s idle issue had sorted itself out… probably some kerosene in that last village’s fuel.

Above: Wheat! A wheat field! Make me some bread!

Above: Now that’s a bike doing some serious lifting. Remember: God is Lov.

Having quizzed a couple of boda guys at the pumps about reaching Naivasha via the back-roads, we were pretty certain we had to climb up the Mau Escarpment. I was unaware what that would entail and was in for a real treat. After lunch, we set out for the 5 km of tar to our turn off and were escorted by one of the boda dudes giving his Chinese bike the beans in order to show us the turn, empty milk containers flapping and whacking around in the wind. He was quite a sight.

The trail he pointed us to, I had mostly found via Google Earth and we repeatedly confirmed we were on the right track by asking as we went. I couldn’t believe how stunning it was, or how high. It wasn’t pristine Kenya, not like a game park or anything, but it was productive Kenya. Hard-working, farming Kenya. The higher we climbed (and we seemed to climb forever) the more beautiful the surroundings. There were little huts and dukas perched on the edges of the hill, deep canyons with dense tree cover at the bottoms and fields stretching up the long valleys. It was hard to keep the bike on the trail, with all the gawking I was doing.

Above: The boda guy shows us the way, and our first glimpse of the Mau escarpment

Above: We weren’t the only bikes on the road

Above: Climbing higher and higher, the mercury dropping in proportion.

The road surface was very good while dry, but at times you could clearly see that a few moments of rain could very quickly turn the climb into a Slip-N-Slide. It would be wet clay chaos. We lucked out though, made it to the summit and scrambled down the other side to the Moi South Lake Road right at Kongoni where we stopped at the Ranch House for a draft beer to celebrate the day. Later, at Carnelly’s Camp, we spent the evening in the restaurant by a very smoky fire listening to the never-ending rain that – although Panic had sworn up and down would not cross the lake – soaked the grass outside. The drops couldn’t touch our bikes though, they were kept dry under a lean-to, or our bodies since we’d wisely, we’d put up the rain flies before hitting the beers.

Above: A funky disused duka on the ridge along the Mau Escarpment Road

Above: In Maella, a fancier-than-usual butcher shop window

Above: Where there’s smoke, there’s fire… where there’s draft beer, there’s a smiling biker

Above: The rain hammering the escarpment as viewed from across Lake Naivasha at Carnelly’s Camp

At night I slept like the dead, the sound of hippos grazing by the lake and the patter of the rain on the fly lulling my worn out self fast asleep.

[flash=900,600]https://www.youtube.com/v/WsoLurbgtQ8[/flash]
Above: A quick vid from the day

One day to go… and we do make the best of it. :snorting:

 

[Xpat]

Thanks for the update! Keep them coming  :thumleft:

 

[boland]

Yes please, more!!!

 

[PHILIPKUHN]

SJO!!! Dit lyk lekker!!

 

[ROOI]

:thumleft:

 

[Osadabwa]

Beautiful morning bird song roused us gently from our slumber… okay that’s a load of crap. Actually, we were jolted awake by a half dozen Egyptian Geese in heat making the most gawdawful ruckus you ever heard for an hour starting at dawn. Early wake up call notwithstanding, we were not exactly super fly keen to get moving and didn’t hit the road again until 10:00 with a belly full of breakfast and damp tents packed.

Above: Morning light on the XRs

Two years ago, I raced in a Naivasha-area rally raid and still had my GPS tracks. I was very keen to roll back over that terrain, so we slipped back down the Moi South Lake Road and pulled up to the Kedong Ranch gate. The lady asked if we wanted to visit the lodge, and we said we did… I was keen to find out if it was somewhere I could take the family. So, in we went. The place is lovely, full of wildlife, and resting smack on the flank of Mt. Longonot, a very distinctive and pointy looking volcano in the Rift. We pulled up to the lodge and the manager informed us the place had had a fire, so our plan for coffee was out. Still, he was friendly and said it would be okay to go out the ranch the back way toward Suswa following my old tracks. So we dusted out of there.

Above: Carnelly’s and the Longonot Lodge gate

Above: Mt. Longonot

The track was just how I remembered it… at first. A sandy double track winding through the trees and dipping into a valley. At one point, the road split with my track veering to the left and the obviously better road veering right. We tested the left road but it looked abandoned so we decided to take the right road instead. We puttered along, flanking the edge of a deep washout. I assumed we’d keep above it, but to my surprise the road dove right in. It was nothing more than a sand harvester’s track that took trucks down into the riverbed. Now, we love riverbed riding, so we decided to explore a bit, thinking we’d go down a ways and climb out, but we rode for about 10 km beneath towering sheer volcanic walls before we had to bail out.

Above: The track skirts this ominous eroded expanse

Above: the road drives straight into a deep gully

Above: the gully is home to a lovely, hard-packed riverbed many meters wide

Above: At times, the riverbed narrowed, but we always managed to keep going

Above: A mini waterfall… we would keep descending until we found something too big to ride back up

Above: Brilliant fun, and spectacularly steep walls

At some point, our luck ran out. We came to a place with a meter high dropoff that we could have ridden off of easily enough, but would have been stranded by if we had to climb back up for whatever reason. So, the decision was made to backtrack until we could find a half-decent escape route. This was easier said than done however. The majority of the riverbed was flanked by sheer walls many meters high, and only occasionally was there a slope gradual enough to permit an escape.

Above: End of the road. The riverbed was composed of two main types of volcanic soil: hard packed gritty sand and a foot or so of light weight, volcanic pebbles (aptly described by Panic as dog kibble) which was akin to powder snow. You could ride into that stuff and just plough right through it. It seemed to have no weight, but in deep enough quantities acted like quicksand. The video shows a place where it was deep.


[flash=900,600]https://www.youtube.com/v/yPUZsClIBN8[/flash]
Above: Here's said video... don't you just love the noise?
(Huge shout out to @BlueBull2007 for writing somewhere how to embed videos... been driving me nuts, but I got it now.)

Climbing out was a team effort. I went first and ground my way to the top of the hill where a two foot lip awaited me. The approach was so soft that my rear wheel immediately dug in and I was stuck, nose in the air. We pushed and pulled, but eventually decided to lay the bike on her side and drag her up the last bit. Panic’s attempt was better, and he managed to grind his way out after a couple of efforts and a lot of us pushing and swearing. I collapsed on the ground afterwards, sweaty and covered in course- ground-black-pepper-sized pebbles. Victory was ours!

Above: My pig, dug in and spewing coolant

Above: Free from the chasm. Panic sucks some liquids.

The riverbed was the highlight of the day. From there on, we were back in typical day-ride territory, so we just aimed at Karen and ripped the rubber. It wasn’t particularly easy going though… climbing up the roads we normally descend showed us just how rocky they were, and as we gained elevation, an evil, cold mist appeared and chilled us to the bone. It had been raining, so there were greasy mudslicks everywhere, the worst of which was only 100m from the end of the track where cattle have churned a section of the pipeline road into a slurry of **** and muck that nearly swallowed Panic whole. No mishaps were in the cards though, and we rolled into the Tin Roof for a well-earned lunch, muddy boots and all.

Above: It’s rougher climbing than descending

Above: The painted rock… stuff for sale? Not for sale? Who the hell knows… And my Tin Roof lunch at ride’s end.

That was a great trip. Although we didn’t find the elusive southern connection to Mara, we had a blast. The Mau Escarpment road and the Kedong riverbed track were awesome surprises, and the rest of the tracks, though well known, never disappoint.
All that’s left now is to plan the next one.

Cheers
:snorting:

 

[bud500 (R.I.P)]

Brilliant!  :thumleft:

 

[NovaT]

Excellent!  :thumleft: Really enjoyed the read, and the photo's are awesome!  :thumleft:

 

[Goingnowherekwickly]

Thanks Osadabwa

Been following your ride reports for a while, this is the kind of stuff I aspire to..

keep em coming please, cant get enough of this...

 

[Osadabwa]

So Wednesday I rode 300 km, 80% of it dirt, to go to a meeting that could just as easily have been scheduled 20 km away in town. Why? Because I love my Big Red Pig and feel physically addicted to riding it as much as possible. I was given the choice to meet colleagues either near the Nairobi International Airport, or waaaay out in the bush near a place called Olooloitikosh where they were working vaccinating cattle. For me, it was a no-brainer. Another excuse to have a solo adventure. As the map below shows, I didn’t exactly take the most direct route to get there, and had an amazing time.

Above: My track starts Near Kikuyu and wiggled around out West before zig-zagging over to the tar road in the far east, then south and back up again for the meeting, topped off by a zip behind the Ngongs and home.

Above: Oddly, I find myself just as willing to get stuck-in on an unknown trail while alone. This one ended up in a seemingly endless rolling mess of babyheads on a steep descent with a blind bottom, so I decided to save it for when I had company (my sensible side kicking in, just in case).

Above: Stopped for a rest on a bluff with a great view of the backside of the Ngongs. Fresh boundary markers and recently cropped brush suggest somebody’s bought the plot. It was square as you like, so I imagine soon it’ll be fenced. Kenya, we’ll miss you when you’re gone.

Above: After my morning in the valley, I licked up to the Kajiado plains and made a direct shot over toward Kitengela town. It was one continuous grassland apart from the quiet riverbed above, and entirely made up of black-cotton soil. Had there been rain, I’d still be there… even a Pig can’t make much progress in that stuff.

Above: After my meeting (I show up on a bike and have a beer at 2:00 PM… I assume that didn’t put anybody off), I met my new friend Camo in the tree I was pissing on by the roadside. He didn’t say much, but showed his appreciation for my bike by doing a wheelie for me.

Riding solo is such a gift, especially somewhere far away and remote where you’re not sure what you might find around the bend. The best part is just how smooth the day goes, even if there are hiccups. Alone, you just roll with it. Looking forward to another excuse to get out there on my own.
:snorting:

 

[landieman]

BRILLIANT  :thumleft:

 

[Osadabwa]

Last week, a horrible thing happened to me: I got a job ;D Well, not really... a multi-month consultancy, which is very much like a job, just not as long.

So, before the thing kicks off, Panic and I are going to make a break for it on the Pigs. We're off to Maasai Mara (or at least the conservancies around it) and the Loita Hills for 3 nights. This time, we'll be going the semi-posh route, staying in tented camps, so the bikes will be light and nimble, ready for whatever we find.

Only 12 hours til we go... I'm not eager or anything... 11:59 to go... okay.  :snorting:

 

[Crossed-up]

Have a great ride and we really look forward to the RR.

 

[Prototype]

This is what adventure riding is all about, brilliant! You live in a good part of the world for it. Enjoy the light weight pig fest  :ricky: