Riding Kenya
Jungle Junction was one large car park for overland vehicles; some left to be used again, some for sale and others looking largely abandoned. Lots of m/bikes too. You can imagine; been there done that and left – and that 4×4 or bike 6,000 km away.
The riding was GREAT. Fantastic even, and I couldn’t believe where I was riding. Nairobi was like London in the rush hour so I felt really at home – the only real difference was the buses mounting the footpaths (in Nairobi) and no one giving way to anyone else. One funny little event in Nairobi was when I was riding pillion with Kristian and had to hop off while he extricated the bike from a traffic jam. Then I ran further down the road to where I thought he would be able to stop and pick me up, but we misjudged things and I ran straight into the bike as he was accelerating and he bumped into me (but, fortunately, softly). It would have been a novel experience to be rundown by one or our own bikes given the traffic hazards around us.
Mt Kenya National Park – riding in the early morning. You skirt around it – normally following the road west through Nanyuki and climbing into the highlands. It was cold.
The roads north of Nairobi were great – easy riding, no traffic, magnificent views and people were friendly when you stopped. Only thing I didn’t like was the rain, my waterproof gear turned out not to be waterproof in Africa (as it still is in England!). I have vivid memories of the rain hitting my chest like needles and getting soaked in less than two minutes. I guess rain during the Kenyan rain season is that much more intense.
Crossing the equator; halfway round the globe in Nanyuki. One of Africa’s most popular photoshots, of course. Heavy grey skies and the dominance of Mt Kenya over the town beckoned rain to come.
Riding the roads north of Mount Kenya
Once we hit the dirt/sand roads in northern Kenya, we stopped and had a drink (it was really hot) and set off on what was the toughest ride of my life. I have never ridden on sandy roads before and I was all over the place. After five minutes Kristian stopped to let me catch up and laughed – asking me how things were going. He gave me some great advice that saved me really: just relax your arms and, when you feel you’re losing control, don’t steer just accelerate gently. Well that worked well and, although it was the toughest day’s riding I have ever had, there were a few times I nearly went down. Looking back it amazes me that I didn’t come off. At one point I was lurching from side to side of the road and had accepted that I was going down – you know what it’s like when you know you’re going to hit the dirt – relaxing and getting ready to roll – but, somehow, the bike righted itself and I stayed on the seat. This was either God giving me a hand or I simply lurched forward and accelerated at the right time and pulled myself and the bike upright sufficient to remain there – luck really; may be a bit of both. Add to that the heat, the intense vibration from the corrugated roads and hour after hour on a thin seat, needless to say I had a sore backside and sore everything else from then on. After two days on roads like that I was starting to lose the dexterity in my fingers.
Round the mountain and heading north for Moyale; the road seemed to stretch into infiniti. You get this sense of space and isolation riding Africa.
Kristian was not much better, and kept dropping his bike – so, for much of the time he could almost step of the bike as it fell. But he also had the only really nasty crash of this section of the ride – and probably of the entire journey – right there in front of me. I saw him go down, his legs flip over his head and he landed on his back and, luckily, with only a few scrapes and bumps to show for it. Catching up and leaping off my bike I was a bit worried that my first aid skills would not be up to scratch if we’d had a really nasty accident or injury. What to do about things then – to leave him and go for help or to stay and wait? We were fortunate, that we had nothing more serious than this one nasty fall. In fact, he had hit a large boulder on the road front on, and the bike had not ridden over it as expected – it was just Kristian that continued. Fortunate too, the bike was OK.
Leave the highlands behind and it’s essential to get out of the sun for those occasional breaks. Just for once no one turned up to look at us.
The road experience was, in reality, an endurance test and made me realize that I can endure a lot more mental and physical pain than I had thought and that nothing lasts forever. In some ways it illustrates Buddhist teachings of impermanence. The road ride was particularly valuable in reality and on reflection for, after returning to London and enduring a particularly stressful period at work, this experience helped me to see that I can endure and that things will improve.
That other reflection should cover the bikes – design and manufacture. They seemed a deal more tougher than the riders – and they still had to get to Cairo by June.
Worlds apart
To offset the bad road and the need to concentrate and to endure – the scenery, by contrast, was incredible – beauty beyond words (well, my words anyway). Stop and switch off the bikes and the silence envelopes you – alone on the road, just the endless ribbon of packed red gravel and then the sounds of the country begin to impact – bird calls, insects, wind blow and more. This is the Africa of ancient times and before the civilizing impact of the people that call these countries home; London – Nairobi even – seemed a world apart.
Half-way to Moyale and our second night on the road; at the Jeyjey Centre in Marsabit. Behind the facade was a typical two-level motel unit.
It may sound strange but I came to appreciate riding the stretches of loose sandy road – like the adrenaline rush that you get from water-skiing – powering the bike over a loose but buoyant surface – knowing the risks of losing control and coming off – but remaining in charge of the bike and staying in place – it was a thrilling experience.
African wildlife safari
I have three main experiences to share – all of them delightful. First was in the Dida Galgalu Desert in Kenya. Riding along a very straight stretch of road I became aware of five ostriches running in line from behind and to our right and slowly catching up with us. My first reaction was ‘Wow, I’m on safari – this is it man – the desert; Africa, big game and more.’ I had seen the birds in the mirror, then to one side as they overtook us – sounds surreal writing this – and getting closer to the road in a diagonal line ready to cross. Kristian was a few metres in front of me, and I started to worry that the birds would run straight into him and his bike. They seemed to be largely oblivious of us – as if we weren’t there. No fear certainly. Get really close to an ostrich and you realize just how large they are – and here were five of them; they easily outnumbered us and were more adept with the terrain too.
Motel or not, the notice was a treat; presumably, if you’re not strict it’s OK. In anycase, it was hardly aimed at deadbeat bikkies who could barely stagger off their bikes into the rooms before flaking out.
The four older birds crossed in front of Kristian – no problem – but the youngest – last in line came very close in to him simply following the others, then seemed to see him as a hazard and veered off and then ran in again before finally crossing behind him and in front of me – the bird ran between us! Imagine! No one got hurt, but it was a close encounter. The speed of these birds across hard ground full of rocks and thorn bushes was impressive. Of course, you never have a camera on hand when you need it.
Second was another close call with a large antelope – but other than that I don’t know what kind of animal it was – it had vertical stripes on its body and spear like straight horns. It burst out of the bush from nowhere and headed straight for Kristian at top speed; I thought it was going to bone him but, incredibly, it turned on a sixpence and disappeared back into the bush as fast as it had appeared. Imagine those reflexes – not seeing the bike, seeing the bike and turning back in a flash. Can’t do that on a DKZ.
Meals on wheels for many a local; but this one simply got his/her picture taken for posterity. Sometimes they get caught in storm drains and walk hundreds of metres to get out – making them vulnerable to the takeaway food trade.
Finally, finding that big tortoise. My approach to wildlife is don’t touch it; Kristian being a bit more hands on picked it up – and was rewarded by having tortoise pee all over his boots whilst posing for a photo holding it up in the air. But, think of it, not a bad experience from riding Africa; and you don’t see many tortoises on the road – leastways not that size – riding into London of a morning.
That’s me looking really pleased to have reached Moyale on the Kenyan border; and that’s the difficult 600 km done without a bandit in sight.
Shaun Kelly
London
November 2012
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