North Horring to Logipi - Four XR650Rs in Kenya

Discussion in 'Ride Reports - Epic Rides' started by Osadabwa, Aug 10, 2021.

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  1. Osadabwa

    Osadabwa Don't be Surprised

    Joined:
    Mar 19, 2009
    Oddometer:
    766
    Location:
    Nairobi, Kenya
    Nairobi had been cold and gloomy for two months straight, so we were itching to head North. To North Horr, Lake Turkana and maybe even Lake Logipi if it was in the cards. Four XR650Rs and one KTM 520 would start the journey, taking on some of the Northern Frontier District’s most iconic spots over 1600km and 5 days of riding. The craziest of it looked like this:

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    It was hot, fast, dusty, sandy, rocky and brilliant. But first, we have to get out of town. So, Wednesday afternoon, essentially day 0 of the trip, Panic, Lobo and I hit the tar for Nyahururu. Wry and Holesaw would meet us there the following day, but it meant a 6:00 AM departure for them, so the three of us took the half day to cruise the beautiful green roads, knowing that the Thompon’s Falls Hotel would have cold beers and a hot fire for us when we got there. As luck would have it, we hit rain near Njabini, so we stopped for a cup of tea before heading on and up to Nyahururu.

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    Above: Bikes waiting out a cold drizzle at 2500m... we'd be at 40C and less than 200m soon enough

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    Above: Once the sun came out closer to Nyahururu, I deviated off the tar for a little dirt and a nice little climb up the escarpment

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    Above: Red and green go well together

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    Above: The agricultural heartland of Kenya is beautiful, but it's just not Pig Country

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    Above: A proper wheelie from Lobomoto on the climb up

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    Above: Lake Ol Bolosat in the distance, my still gleaming BRP in the foreground

    At the hotel it was cold beers and sunny garden sitting until dark at which point it turned to cold beers and hot steaks with a side of banter around the fire. It’s great to leave town, dust off the cobwebs, and prepare for the real ride which would kick off the next day.

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    Above: Panic and his favourite golden beverage at the Thompon’s Falls Hotel, Nyahururu

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    Above: Lobo chatting to his friends asking why the old guys won’t shut up about the Honda XR650R

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    Above: Perhaps a beer or two later…

    We watched some Olympics back in the room and enjoyed a fantastic fire before turning.

    Until tomorrow, dream of the desert….
    #1
  2. NAVIGATOR

    NAVIGATOR Wanderer

    Joined:
    Dec 21, 2002
    Oddometer:
    1,967
    Location:
    SOUTH OF THE USA BORDER(friendlier Mexico)
    Another enjoyable report from the pigs club!!!!! bring it
    #2
    Osadabwa likes this.
  3. AHRMA17L

    AHRMA17L Long timer Supporter

    Joined:
    Sep 29, 2006
    Oddometer:
    1,017
    Location:
    Corvallis and Dundee, OR
    Oh, yeah! Bring it on!
    #3
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  4. Osadabwa

    Osadabwa Don't be Surprised

    Joined:
    Mar 19, 2009
    Oddometer:
    766
    Location:
    Nairobi, Kenya
    Day 1 - Nyahururu to Ngurunit via the Milgis Lugga

    Up at a leisurely pace, the Clever Three scratched around awhile before sauntering out for breakfast. It was a lovely sunny morning. We hoped our good buddies were having a lovely time riding up in the glorious sunshine… no, we hoped they were getting soaked! And lo, upon arrival, the first thing I hear Holesaw say is “[email protected]#$ I’m cold”! They’d been drizzled on all morning long. LOLs, suckas!

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    Above: Five bikes in a line, ready to get clear of this cold weather and ride some riverbeds and deserts.

    With no further ado, we shot north. Used to be a torturous, rocky, rutted mess getting from Nyahururu to Maralal. Now it’s tar almost all the way, so there’s nothing of interest there for the avid Pig rider. That said, we did have a nice diversion in Mugie looking for a mate of Wry’s (total legend, always has snacks and beers ready for us when we pass through, except for last time… and this time too…) who unfortunately wasn’t around. We did get to meet the friendly pet giraffe however, and she absolutely loved us and the Pigs.

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    Above: That giraffe was hilarious… wandered delicately between the bikes, sniffing our helmets, looking for treats. Cool girl.

    Enough of the Laikipia experience. We can visit wildlife sanctuaries with the 4x4s and families, it was time to break North where there be monsters. We flew through Maralal, stopping only for go-juice at an out-of-town station (to avoid the muppetry) where I saw a 1990s Cagiva W16 600CC motorbike… you see the weirdest stuff in Maralal! From there, it was a stop at our perennial lunch spot on the side of the escarpment. Four of us got there unscathed, but Holesaw wiped out on a quick off-camber right hander. He spent most of his lunch break fixing his brake lever and hand guards while we ate liberally from his kilo bag of biltong.

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    Above: Me looking down on it all… I think we should ride that riverbed

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    Above: Lobo and I ready to rip!

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    Above: Panic all smiles now that the rain is behind us... but I'll be watching out for the stink eye when the heat comes!

    Hunger satiated, we dropped off the escarpment and down into the lugga, ripped around in there for a few km and popped out en route to the Milgis… the 80km long lugga of legend. So wide you can lose your riding buddies, the Milgis is prone to sand storms, you’ve got to mind the drop offs, sand snakes, and tree debris because now and then she’s cause for concussion. Enjoy, but enjoy responsibly! Fortunately, the lugga’s grabby and relentless sand keeps even the torquiest bikes in check to some degree… at our gearing it wasn’t easy getting over 120kph, but it was pure joy trying!

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    Above: My beauty in the warm-up lugga

    Unfortunately, not after the warm-up lugga, Lobo’s bike went poop. While idling, it just flamed out. On the XRR, that usually means one of two things: 1) dirty fuel, so drain the carb bowl 2) dust in the kill switch, so clean it out. Panic advised Lobo to try the Pig Remedies and lo! The 520 started up and we were ripping on our way to the Milgis…

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    Above: Lobo’s first hiccup

    …where the 520 promptly pooped out again and wouldn’t start. I was impressed that the battery kept going so damn long while Lobo tried every variation of choke, throttle and prayer to get her started again, but then somebody pointed out the battery isn’t made by KTM, so that made sense.

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    Above: At the start of the Milgis, coaxing the 520 to play nicely

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    Above: And that’s when Holesaw proposed! I’d never been so happy in my life. Whisky! Oh my gawd! I do! I do, you curly haired gorilla with glasses, I do!

    After all the excitement and the immediate annulment of our nuptials (fafaksake, I have my own whisky! I don't need no man! Also, wait, I'm already married!) at the start of the lugga, it only made sense that muppetry would ensue. We told Lobo to just head up the lugga, but in no time he’d somehow gone up a track into the bush. Wry took off after him, but of course missed him and kept going for 5km before coming back. I went after Wry, and followed a track up the wrong lugga assuming it would be Wry’s or Lobos… anyway. By the time we found each other again, Lobo’s bike was dead again, so we repeated the procedure and took off… again.

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    Above: Once we were underway, it was time to take bike portraits in the lugga

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    Above: Since I write these reports, and it takes approximately half as much time to write them as it does to ride them (not counting the preparation of tracks etc), I feature my bike in the bike and scenery portraits, cause you know what fellas? Mine’s the most beautiful! End of discussion.

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    Above: That said, I’ll sometimes allow Panic’s bike in a scenery shot too cause if I don’t, he won’t let me wrench in his garage any more… #iamstupidbutnotthatstupid

    The best feeling for this riverbed is in the video I’ll post at the end of the story. It is such a joy to rip through. The size of the thing makes it tricky to get your head around. Pics make it look like everyone's idling, and in videos, a guy appears slow unless he nearly grazes the cameraman going past... so that's what we have learned to aim for. Hold it wide open and aim for your buddy with the camera, miss him at the last second if you can! It’s a lovely way to spend a couple hours.

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    Above: See… My bike makes the scenery look even better IMO

    About two thirds the way down the lugga, you reach a stone waterfall. Lobo got there quick, not wanting to stop and tempt fate, and his bike promptly died as he waited for us to show up. So while he did the fuel dump routine again (by this time, it’s not making much sense that this is the main issue) we bragged about our speeds and close calls and generally hooted it up like the 40 somethings we wish we weren't.

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    Above: Wry and I helping Lobo with his bike

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    Above: Holesaw, a BRP and a KTM

    As soon as Lobo got the 520 running, I was up the trail leading him the short way past the falls. Not having the luxury to find a gradual entry, he just dumped it straight in and then he was gone in a roar of fury. One by one the others came and made a dog’s breakfast of the entry (I may include shameful waddling footage in the outtakes later) but we were soon again on our way, blasting for the entry to Ngurunit.

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    Above: Wry making it look easy (or more accurately, me picking the shot that makes it look like he made it look easy…)

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    Above: Panic on his way after roosting himself into a hole a minute earlier

    Damned if we didn’t find Lobo again after only a few KMs. Not sure where the exit was (he hadn’t loaded the track on his Garmin… probably because Garmin makes you load each track one at a time and he got dizzy at some point doing it #garminsucks... more on that later) he stalled again waiting for us. We’d of course been taking pics as the hour was nearly golden. Lucky for him, he stopped near a portal and a pair of harmless looky-loos popped out to watch him work.

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    Above: Looky-loo One and Looky-loo Two watch Lobo curse his luck... note the special way they carry their walking sticks... hmmm

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    Above: By now the 520’s smaller tank was drying up, so we had to steal from Wry’s Pig to get her moving again. Once he was sorted, we gave him strict instructions to follow the lugga until the track turns out on the left about 20km… little did we realise that the track he was following was actually a river on his basemap, so off he went with no idea where to turn.

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    Above: What’s that you say? You’d like another pic of my Pig? Oh very well!

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    Above: This is actually not a pic of my bike, it’s a pic of the Ndoto mountains and a crazy sky

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    Above: This is also a pic of the Ndotos… but if you look closely, you'll see my bike there as well

    We probably should have insisted that Lobo follow us to the turn, but we were so caught up in the beauty of the place we were all gawking at it and taking photos. Wry was closest to him and had him in sight when he went racing past the turnoff. Not wishing to break his neck in a 120+kph race to catch him, Wry stopped and when I got there I took off in pursuit. Eventually I saw Lobo turning back, so I looped around ahead of him.

    On the way we passed one or two herders with AK-47s. It’s pretty common to see them, and sometimes they have their guns in their hands, not shouldered… young guys in these places are expected by their cultures to be macho and tough, to fear nothing and nobody, and to intimidate would be adversaries. But one guy took the Theatre of the Morani too far this time… I went past him with a wave, but when Lobo approached, he took a bead on him with his gun, got down on one knee to do it, and followed him squinting along the barrel until he was out of sight. Understandably, this was upsetting as hell for Lobo, who gave it full throttle and got the hell out of there. Again, this is why we don't like to backtrack, and why it's key that everyone follows the tracks I make... you pass people more than once, and some of them will take the chance to be a c*nt. I hope that guy gets liver flukes. I hope his willy falls off. Feel free to wish ill on him in your own special way as well.

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    Above: Last of the Milgis, Ndotos in the distance

    Finally on the road to Ngurunit, me in the lead, Lobo behind me… wait, where’s Lobo. Right, he’s out of gas by now. I hook back and we repeat the procedure for the nth time. Holesaw and Wry toodle on to Ngurunit to make sure beers are ready when we arrive, and Panic and I help Lobo as best we can. Now that we're on hard-packed ground, Panic gives him a pull-start… obviously the pilot jet is blocked, right? Bike fires up. Eureka! Off we go.

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    Above: A knackered Holesaw on the road to Ngurunit... he and Wry had been riding over 10 hours by that point

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    Above: Ndotos always impress. I know what you're thinking... this pic would be better with my bike in it...

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    Above: Okay, okay, if you insist!

    At the camp, Lobo gets busy stripping the bike while the rest of us get busy drinking Tuskers and talking shite. I take a quick rip into the village to buy another sarong (they have the best ones up there, so soft! At the coast or in the North, there’s nothing better. Gotta let the boys breathe after a long day on the throttle) and then we settle in to rehash the day. Sadly for Lobomoto, the jet, though clogged, wasn’t the (only) culprit. The stator/coil/or maybe CDI was no longer making any spark. Panic called time of death by headlamp light around 8pm. Lobo's trip was done.

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    Above: Many dead soldiers and one dead KTM

    We shot the breeze in the heat and the wind until the beers were gone.

    Tomorrow – Chalbi Desert to North Horr... it's a whole lotta desert!

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    #4
    HatesSnow, Frey Bentos, Bors and 30 others like this.
  5. kiwial

    kiwial Allweatherrider

    Joined:
    Jul 27, 2010
    Oddometer:
    513
    Location:
    NZ Mountains
    Locals emerging from...'the cradle of humanity'
    A giraffe walking amongs motorcycles
    Scenery to die for
    Riding like in heaven
    Bikes you can rely on ;-)
    and beers at the end of the day
    ...flabbergasted
    #5
    ScotsFire, liv2day and Osadabwa like this.
  6. Thomas B.

    Thomas B. desert racer

    Joined:
    Feb 15, 2010
    Oddometer:
    1,276
    Location:
    Switzerland and around the globe
    Oh YEAH - another one. Great. I love Africa. Bring it on.

    Admit it - you just let the orange bike tag along (I was wondering already) to make you old battleship look better. :D
    I know you don't like them, but they are actually not that bad.:1drink

    Waiting for more.
    #6
  7. Osadabwa

    Osadabwa Don't be Surprised

    Joined:
    Mar 19, 2009
    Oddometer:
    766
    Location:
    Nairobi, Kenya
    Day 2 - Chalbi Desert to North Horr

    We all got munched by mozzies in the night and were awakened by the daft cock belting out his cock-a-doodle-doo at 3AM (no it was a rooster, not Wry, but I get why you’d be confused) but slept on and off enough to be lucid by daybreak. The Tuskers of the night before might as well have been mineral water… do they ship the empty cans up country or what? Anyway, we were hale and hearty around the plastic table mixing up powdered coffees and talking rubbish while the absolutely gorgeous morning light painted the stoic stone faces behind us.

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    Above: Ngoood morning Ngurunit!

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    Above: Our humble digs… two little twin beds fit in each of these… we let Panic have his own since he is a snorer of note

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    Above: Coffee please, no sugar, no milk, there’s a good lad

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    Above: Wry thought this pic contrasted nicely with the Tusker shot of Pete from the night before. Implying I’m a weakling or something. Doesn’t hurt my feelings at all. Gotta hydrate. Meany.

    Sadly, one of our party was making preparations to hit the road in a decidedly different and less invigorating manner. Lobo, stiff upper lip firmly attached, stoically pushed his ailing 520 over to the locally sourced rescue vehicle and we helped heave the carcass in the back. Tied down and sides folded up (makes it a lot easier to pass by the cops), we bid him farewell, donned our kit and sent the sounds of 4 x 650 ccs echoing around Ngurunit. To the Chalbi!

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    Above: Getting Lobo’s KTM on the sag wagon… I know you’re checking out that sarong… is nice, No?

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    Above: I’ve seen this before in TZ, but that time it was Benny Boom-Boom’s error… who puts a jua kali chain on a 450 EXC then puts your 60+ year old friend on it then goes on a 9 day trip through tsetse fly infested land? Benny Boom-Boom, that’s who.

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    Above: Panic’s front fender… I’m afraid he needs another hash mark now… sorry Lobo! The Red Pig strikes down another KTM!

    Let’s ride already, fafaksake! Boom, out of town we roar, past the last funky stone monolith, over to Ilaut, swinging a hard right then a left onto what was a very fun little scrambly two track that disappears and reappears as whimsically and unpredictably as Panic’s moods, with stones one second, open stretches of untracked sand the next. Before you know it, it’s merged with a larger track, which means faster blasting, but also churned up sand, so hold onto your butts, cause some of you are going to get bucked if you’re limp of wrist and loose of bowel!

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    Above: What a rippa!

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    Above: Wry and the conehad racing past stonedome

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    Above: Panic’s bike… what a beautiful bike, what an immaculate and well-cared-for bike!

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    Above: Can’t afford your digs? Want to tele-commute? Come to Ilaut, there are egg-shaped stick huts for cheap!

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    Above: Junction away from Ndotos and on to Korr

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    Above: Holesaw no longer has issues with sand

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    Above: Despite it being morning, when everybody is usually groggy, I had a serious case of twitchy throttle wrist. Sometime here or in the Chalbi (or both) I toodled along at 133kph according to the GPS. Not Baja speeds, but it’s quick enough for a 44 year old ADV raveler on an 18 year old bike loaded and full of fuel.

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    Above: Panic giving her the beans

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    Above: Singing the praises of the Big Red Pig in Korr at the petrol Coop (hakuna stima, so petrol pump hayifanyakazi)

    It’s only a blink to Kargi from Korr… now everyone’s got itchy throttle wrist and we’re flying. The track is deep with sand and long with ruts, but the pigs love it so we rip. In Kargi there’s a little spot I have in mind called the Makuti Bar where we had a nice beer a couple years ago. Far enough from town to keep away the village idiots, and shady enough to keep the beer from evaporating off your lips. Like a laser pointer to a cat, we were on the chase. Wait, what the hell is that? A white flipflop? A pair of undies? Another flip-flop? Ah… Holesaw’s bag has opened up and barfed out all his kit. I’ll carry it to him. Laugh at his expense, roost him for his foolishness. Rip ahead to Kargi for that beer.

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    Above: Panic shows how to do it and…

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    Above: Holesaw shows how not to do it… get your weight forward if you're practicing stoppies, Holesaw!

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    Above: Maybe his unorthodox method of jumping is the cause for his rolling yard sale. I looked suspicious as hell riding with his trunks as a flag off my mirror...

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    Above: The sand was deep and grabby and thoroughly enjoyable

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    Above: Wry is still asleep… slow as a tortoise, waving at the trees… what a…

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    Above: In Kargi, the Makuti Bar looked much the same as before except it was closed… we went around the corner to the Mabati Bar as we dubbed it…

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    Above: The Mabati Bar! We pulled up to the old place and the barkeep comes running and gesturing over to a spanking new mabati-clad steel hotbox of a place… same floorplan, same name, no makuti. But the beers weren’t hot, so that was something!

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    Above: The charcoal fridge… evaporative cooling keeps them, well, not hot

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    Above: It ain’t much, but it’s Kargi's best

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    Above: After a cheeky beer, some vittles’ and a bit of rest, I’m ready to hit the Chalbi

    And hit it we did. Starting at the far south-east corner, our plan would take us all the way through that sucker, pausing at the Rock Dune, an 8km long, arrow straight dirt pile of unknown origin somewhere in the north-centre of the pan near Kalacha. We’d then continue on, bypassing Kalacha (a colossal dump in my opinion, known best for its abundance of wind and rubbish piled against fences… oh and a really awesome Catholic mission with a car/bike workshop larger than the church in case of emergency) and straight into the loving arms of our North Horr. Off then.

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    Above: An oasis of a riverbed near Kargi… some excellent campsites in there no doubt, but I’m planning to sleep pool-side tonight

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    Above: We’d just entered the Chalbi flats, so we took pics of it… lots of them. Many like this one. Nice piczzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

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    Above: That’s more like it, some freaking action! Dust trails! Speed evident, dust flying, etc! Subject centered, sure, but it's for effect, shows the vastness of the pan on either side!

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    Above: Oh damn, that’s even better! Lots of speed, hell of a rider that chap is, it’s obvious! What a demon! Subject is clear, dust and debris caught mid-flight, subject is centre of frame (rule of thirds is in full effect here), and again, what a demon!

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    Above: What on earth inspired these palms to grow here and nowhere else?

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    Above: Perhaps it’s just to make a nice backdrop for pics?

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    Above: Seems that way!

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    Above: The expanse of this place… it just goes on forever. Thankfully it was bone-dry in there. Just a little muck under the surface can end your day really quick. This crackled clay was 100% dry, but still unequally grabby, so you had to keep the throttle on and the weight back a bit

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    Above: Note my new navigation setup. I have a Garmin Montana (hiding under the sock because #garminsucks) and a Doogee S88plus Chinese hardy-ass smartphone with 10,000mAh battery on the bike this ride. I’m trialling the smartphone so I can throw my Gar-min in the Gar-bage as soon as it proves itself. So far it has and a simple, cheap app for the phone (Guru Maps) is working 100x better than the Garmin software and I think the developers will be open to hearing from travellers to make tweaks. Contrast that with a glitchy, useless Garmin Basecamp (which never recognized my new Montana, never), the twitchy touchscreen (oh, you wanted to zoom in, how about taking a trip across the map a ways first), and the inexplicable UI which doesn’t even let you select all tracks or perform other tasks of Apple IIE-level sophistication. Oh, and the cheap phone, in addition to being a GPS is, you know, a phone! With email, apps, music, the web… all for cheaper than that Montana. Add a Juiced Squeeze mount by Hondo Garage which does wireless charging on the bike and you’re golden, man golden… So, that’s why #garminsucks End rant… for now.

    After strafing the Chalbi for a while, we veered off the 4x4 tracks and bee-lined it for the Rock Dune a few kms off the road and not visible from there. It was a very odd apparition indeed… arrow-straight and disappearing to vanishing point on the otherwise flat horizon, it was definitely worth exploring. Unluckily for me, the edges of the dune are very soft and I managed to dump the bike slightly upside down… giving Panic just enough time to take a victory snap of me bench-pressing the bastard vertical again. Then we all played around on it for a bit, I took the bike out and wrote XR in the sand and fell over again, and we carried on, riding the length of the dune before veering back to the road.

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    Above: Like the Chalbi itself, Rock Dune is hard to photograph from ground level. Google it for myriad areal shots

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    Above: Me deadlifting my Pig in the soft sand, cheers Panic

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    Above: It was hot, but nothing like it can be… still clever fellas find a way to shade up

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    Above: My second drop of the day… alas.

    From the dune to the road was a surreal landscape of salt-covered clay that crackled as you rode over it and grabbed at your wheels. We left 4 sets of tracks swerving and weaving across the landscape, comfortable in the knowledge that the next big rain will wash our presence clean.

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    Above: Rock dune passing by

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    Above: A Panic three-pete if you will

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    Above: Really looks like wind blown snow in the Badlands of Wyoming

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    Above: Blindingly white, this stuff

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    Above: Under the surface it was loamy… a tiny bit of moisture there and we’d be all over the shop

    We still had an hour or more of navigating Chalbi emptiness, weaving around scrubby sections, opening it up through crackled clay pans all the way to North Horr where an enterprising Catholic priest from decidedly cooler climes had built a swimming pool and an attached bar. We stumbled upon it on a 10 day trip to the area several years ago and were very chuffed to be back. First thing was to doff the kit, then hit the pool, then crack a beer. Repeat. Wry and Holesaw were tuckered out by 9pm, the poor dears, and left Panic and I as usual listening to Dire Straits and sipping a cheeky tot or two of Black Label by the star-reflecting pool. We saw two huge shooting stars, burning green in the sky as a reward. That night we slept poolside and were annihilated by mozzies, but it was worth it.

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    Above: Parting shot of the Chalbi

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    Above: Hello North Horr Pool (I look like a Neanderthal…damn)

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    Above: Refreshed, another awesome day in the bag

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    Above: Poolside shenanigans… beer and biltong coming up!

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    Above: Those dweebs brought chairs. Yes, they were comfortable. No I’m not envious. Shut up, I’m not! (@Joe Motocross, I may have sat in one briefly... whoo, it feels good to confess one's sins!)

    Apart from the mozzies, the night was hectic with gusting winds (despite Holesaw’s inaccurate prediction that the wind dies down at night… we bikers aren’t really good at meteorology I’ve noticed) that made the palms explode with rattling leaves, and hyenas whooped outside the gates, no doubt wanting a piece of that biltong or a nibble on Wry’s ample ears… we tried to sleep through it, but it was fitful. And I alone knew what was really in store for the following day…

    Oink
    #7
  8. Osadabwa

    Osadabwa Don't be Surprised

    Joined:
    Mar 19, 2009
    Oddometer:
    766
    Location:
    Nairobi, Kenya
    Day 3 - North Horr to Nachola via Lake Turkana

    Dawn. I awake on my camping mattress atop a concrete plinth that looks like a table for pagan sacrifices, look over and see Wry like a great hideous caterpillar squirming on his, dawn light coming through the palms to illuminate the pool. Ah yes, back in the pool. That’s better! Father Denis comes with breakfast. We have a nice chat about the endless skirmishes in the areas and take a group shot with us in our fancy dress and him in his new BRP Kenya T-shirt, courtesy the Panic Mechanic. A bit of used motoroil on the chains, bags strapped, boots buckled and we are off in a roar toward Loiyangilani where I planned to take us on a stone track down the lake shore to Nabuyatom Crater at the Southern tip of Lake Turkana and beyond. Twende!

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    Above: Wry the worm (where have I heard that before)

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    Above: At the other end of the pool at dawn, two large men emerge from fitful sleep amid a bomb-crater of gear and beer cans

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    Above: The lads and Father Dennis

    The track to Gas from North Horr is a ripper, with wide open hard-packed plains and fairly well maintained gravel sections. It’s not too boring just because it’s so quick, and we made good time to the first view of Lake Turkana.

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    Above: A few stones for Panic

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    Above: A little drifty sand for Wry

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    Above: Wide, well-maintained road to Gas

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    Above: This is what the road would look like if there were no road… the Lake Turkana rubble

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    Above: You’d kind of hate to get it wrong with that stuff as your runout

    At the overlook, we paused to group up and Wry made friends with the local ladies by giving them some water out of his camel bak. These are the hardest people in the world, surely. Look at that landscape, and they live there! How? Why? Surviving on milk and blood and walking several kms to the lake for brackish water or digging holes in dry riverbeds? Their bodies are tiny, shoulders and hips extremely narrow, arrow thin, tough as hell.

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    Above: Sharing water

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    Above: In the group of Turkana there are no men. I assume they’re out herding or killing other men. They can practically kill you with a stare, but it’s more effective to shoot you with an AK. Turkana, you really are The People.

    Now that the lake was in sight, we sprinted down there to the shore and soaked up the cool air coming off it. Extremely scratchy, poky grass along the edges gave the mistaken impression of life, but just a few meters away and it’s a desolate desert. The Jade Sea, out there in all that heat, is usually very soapy feeling, but of late the level has risen dramatically and the water was sweet tasting and not as slimy. Lucky break, that, because with Ethiopia building a dam upstream, we've feard for some time that the thing would dry up completely... The North is ever changing.

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    Above: At the lake shore

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    Above: The guys put on a rendition of Swan Lake, Turkana style

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    Above: Clean water

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    Above: We really should start a boy-band… Too bad the name One Direction is already taken, that might have suited us pretty well

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    Above: Onward along the lake to the Oasis Lodge just for some shade so I could repair a loose front wheel (I thought it was wheel bearings at first)

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    Above: In the car-park, a little scorpion hanging out under a stone we needed

    After loading up on water and downing a Coke apiece, we set off on an ambitious journey. I’ve long wanted to reach Nabuyatom Crater on the southern tip of Lake Turkana. It’s a perfect cone, half in the water, half on land, with the most wild character you’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen a pic from a biker there, only helicopters. I wanted to see if we could reach it. I had my tracks and we set off. Nobody was very sure what we’d find, but we were keen to try.

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    Above: First though, a bit more zipping along with beautiful Lake Turkana in the distance. This stretch of road was once the nemesis of visitors to Loiyangilani, now it’s really a mild version of its former self

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    Above: I’m 100% sure I take a pic of this tree every time I see it. I love it. Look at that thing!

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    Above: Kicking stones on the lakeshore

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    Above: Hell with it, how about a bit of a wheelie? That's it Panic!

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    Above: The people around the lake live on the abundance of fish in the waters… or at least it used to be abundant. Panic’s dad showed us pics of Nile Perch larger than a man being hauled out of there in the ‘70s… haven’t seen any more recent than that though…

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    Above: The good road and the awi of the local fishermen in the background

    Not 100m off the main road, my track deviates down to the water’s edge and we splash through a little channel from one rocky track to the next. It climbs, clattering and clanking up a slope to an outcrop of golden-yellow rock spewed out from some volcano millennia ago, then continues on over more rocks and still more rocks to another yellow outcropping where we found an 80 series Land Cruiser and four wazungu trying their hand at fishing. Almost immediately thereafter, the 2-track road vanishes into single track that includes basketball and larger boulders on it. Only a few kms in and we were done. No way we would try to bash over that terrain for 20 more kilometers. Anyway, spirits remained high as we had alternative plans, and it soon became clear Wry knew the fishermen, and Lo! They had beer!

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    Above: Panic crosses the stream with skill and aplomb

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    Above: The first of the golden stone… that’s easy going, the endless rubble, not so much

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    Above: A flat bit, also not so bad, but still not easy

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    Above: Only a few hundred meters of this stuff wears you out quick.

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    Above: Our dead-end beach

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    Above: A lovely place for a bike portrait

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    Above: And what a lovely spot for a bit of fishing and a beer or two! This was totally unexpected and appreciated. Cheers!

    After shooting the shit for a bit with the fisherfolk, we retraced our steps (anathema!) to the main road. Now the plan had to change a bit. We’d blitz it down the big speedway through the wind farm and South Horr valley, up to Baragoi and over to Nachola campsite for the night. Right then, off we go.

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    Above: There goes a Turkana guy with a string of Tilapia… hard people, I tell you

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    Above: Soft enough to be described as doughy, Wry nevertheless cuts a decent figure on the rocks leaving the yellow rocks

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    Above: Rocking it up the hill, Holesaw leaves behind the bay and the scratch of the track not taken going up the other side.

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    Above: Yours truly on the retreat

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    Above: Wry on the second yellow rock section

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    Above: Some foot paddling aside (I’m looking at you, Holesaw), the guys made good time going out

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    Above: Panic, the lone dog, following the actual track, while the other muppets flail around off-piste and off-camera

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    Above: The last of the lake shore. Until next time… I have a new plan…

    Approaching the windfarm at Mach 1, we stopped briefly to marvel at the technology and also to lament the loss of a real piece of wilderness. No, it wasn’t worth much, just a scrubby bit of nothing in Africa like so many others, but if you travelled through there on a bike in the 90’s or before, you know how inhospitable and otherworldly it was. Now, it’s anything but. Green energy or not, you ruin the landscape to make it happen.

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    Above: The new and the old as time

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    Above: Turkana wind farm

    Roaring toward South Horr, our progress was slowed by the increasing number of people along the way, so we ditched into the riverbed and opened it up. Never seen such a messy riverbed… garbage everywhere. Can’t people just… oh nevermind… it was still a good fast bit of riding.

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    Above: Wry in S. Horr riverbed

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    Above: That’s a nice tree. Long may she live… I give her 3 years.

    On the road again. Once past South Horr, the track is actually pretty amazing. Still quite rough in spots, though with cement pads on the really fun bits, it climbs and drops along the side of Nyiro all the way to Baragoi. We had a blast ripping along it.

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    Above: Panic says bye to South Horr Valley

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    Above: This is a picture of a cactus

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    Above: Fuel stop at a perennially annoying petrol station. Maybe because Baragoi is split down the middle between two warring tribes, it’s a bit odd… can’t put my finger on it though.

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    Above: Out of Baragoi heading for the camp
    We arrived to little fanfare. There was a guy sitting on a chair and some women bustled us to a table under a large tree which they covered with a placemat and walked away. I guess they went to make up the tents which were scattered around. So we ate our tinned fish lunches and everybody but me took off their kit and prepared to call it a day. I still had an itch to explore a bit more, so I volunteered to find cell signal to tell the families we were alive and took off on the bike. Riding alone is great. You go where you want when you want. I climbed a few hills looking for signal, then rode back toward town until I found it. Job done, I then raced back to the riverbed and blasted up below the camp a ways, stopping at random and skittering out at what kind of looked like a road. Eventually it turned into something and I followed it for about 20km in a loop through the bush. Fantastic. Kind of eerie being alone so close to contested land… sort of wondered if somebody might object, but the folks I saw were happy so I waved and kept on.

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    Above: Atop a hill looking for cell signal

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    Above: Down a little track

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    Above: Up the riverbed a bit then out again at this amazing tree overhang

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    Above: The track took me through the bush to an abandoned house

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    Above: Then I rolled back to the camp

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    Above: Where they’d let the pet ostrich out to stretch her legs

    We were visited by the MCA who assured us our plan to visit Lake Logipi the following day was a good one and bid us safe journey. By then the light was gold and the beers came out. I took a bucket shower and was feeling like a million bucks. We all walked down to the riverbed to enjoy our sundowners. Tall trees on the eroded banks and sand like you’d find on the shores of Lake Malawi to wiggle our toes in (just mind the acacia thorns).

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    Above: Sundowner spot

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    Above: Beefcake me and the skinny Minnies

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    Above: And one without the aid of Photoshop… dammit

    That night, the whiskey finally came out properly and we shot shit until late. Eventually we all crawled back to our tents and hit the deck. I was immediately mauled by mozzies, but just doused myself in bug spray and snuggled down in the blankets. It was relatively cold… great sleeping weather.
    I doubted it’d be cold tomorrow…
    #8
    HatesSnow, Frey Bentos, Bors and 19 others like this.
  9. Osadabwa

    Osadabwa Don't be Surprised

    Joined:
    Mar 19, 2009
    Oddometer:
    766
    Location:
    Nairobi, Kenya
    That was a pretty decent night’s sleep. No doubt the whiskey did its part. Up and moving, we kitted up and headed for the nearest duka to stock up on water. We know from experience, it’s hot in the Suguta Valley. We left our “house” - the part of our kit that holds off-bike stuff - at the camp so we could be a tad nimbler, but you can’t skimp on water. We each had 4 litres for the day.

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    Above: The water spot in Nachola. How many kids do you think that village has in it if this is the small sample we managed to amass?

    I’ve been in contact with the local Turkana administrator for Baragoi Ward (everyone else in the ward is Samburu, so you can imagine the politics). He’s had it up to his eyeballs with his fellow tribesmen being shot at by Samburu while they make their way to and from Baragoi and Loiyangilani, so he’s taken it upon himself to build a road linking the two trading centres that bypasses Tuum, South Horr and the kali Samburu there. It’s a brilliant move, and one that has just opened a wonderful road down to Lake Logipi, a place I tried (and failed, and nearly died of heat stroke) to reach on another epic ride in 2017. It’s worth a look: HERE’s the link. So we set off on it in the early light and were blown away.

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    Above: Recently graded, the road is in excellent nick, but it’s a tricky one… they were obviously not building it for high speeds… you can crest a hill and find an off-camber turn waiting for you on the other side! There was so much up and down you almost felt seasick while riding!

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    Above: But the views were stunning and had a totally primitive feel to them. Legitimately very few people have seen these views considering the place had no access, so we were seeing what only herders on foot see.

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    Above: As the track progressed, we dipped deeper into the northern end of the Suguta Valley and the heat crawled up the canyons to meet us.

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    Above: Some acacia were in bloom with brilliant white flowers that gave them the impression of being covered in snow

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    Above: The road follows a ridge in many places affording amazing views of the valley, not unlike Fish River Canyon in Namibia. Cheap cameras don’t do it justice of course.

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    Above: Not a shred of garbage to be seen, no homesteads, no burned trees. Not for long. Not now that there’s a road. But it’s very harsh there, so maybe it’ll take some time.

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    Above: We were jazzed up by the riding and the views. Even though it is a freshly graded track, it’s rough and not without seriously tricky spots. They’d get trickier on the descent to the valley floor.

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    Above: Beautiful. And the views are nice too.

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    Above: No thought has been put into what happens when it rains, so I expect this road to be in a rough state soon. All the better for us.

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    Above: Panic and his bike and way in the distance, cathedral rock in the middle of what looks like a totally dry Lake Logipi.

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    Above: Holesaw rattles over the rocks

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    Above: Nearing the end of the descent, the heat is upon us and the dust builds.

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    Above: Without the road, there’d be no biking in here

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    Above: Panic making good time in a feshy section

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    Above: Leaving a nice con-trail as he goes

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    Above: Wry’s cockpit view. Funky eroded formations, different coloured stone everywhere

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    Above: Gave me the urge to give it the berries

    Eventually we were basically at valley floor level, some 250m or so above sea level. The road works had more or less fizzled out and there were only a couple of 4x4 tracks to follow. I picked one that took us through the deep sand out to the scrubby bush that colonizes the washes and rubble fields uphill of the highly variable lake shore. We stopped for a bit at a rough section of sand and stones, and I declared I’d just see if I could find a way through it. Off I went, and went, and went. It was obvious I’d found my way. I saw the road workers who waved me down (guns on shoulders, smiles on faces) and told me they’re not done with the next section yet, but I could try to ride the lake bed to the old exit track I failed to ride a few years back. That settled it. I bee-lined it for the lake shore to see what I could see.

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    Above: The end of the track, time to pick a line

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    Above: Wry on the open sand beds

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    Above: We stopped at a river inlet full of large stones. I decided to try to find a way through from here.

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    Above: Panic in Suguta Valley, shores of Lake Logipi

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    Above: I'll have you know I was legitimately scouting for routes up there… you know, like a meercat

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    Above: When I left, the other three parked up in the lee side of a massive stone wall in the shade. Apparently, they thought I’d be back soon. I was thinking, since I kept going, that they’d follow me, if only to make sure I wasn’t dead…

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    Above: As luck would have it, my bee-lining to the lake shore led me directly to a cluster of abandoned flamingo nests. Such an amazing find! Usually, flamingos make their funky little mud nests in ankle-deep, nasty water that deters predators. As the water receded, it left the nests high-and-dry. They looked so alien, as did everything in that place. Totally otherworldly.

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    Above: I was properly chuffed. I doffed my helmet and waited for the lads, elated!

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    Above: Meanwhile, the guys were still waiting for me to either come back or be good and dead by the time they went to find me.

    Eventually, I retraced my tracks through the scrub (an odd bush that gave off an acrid smell not unlike burning clutch plates or stockpiles of fertilizer in a warehouse…) and found them just on the verge of coming to my rescue. Nevermind, I had found what we were looking for, so allez! Are we riding or are we sitting in the shade?

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    Above: Holesaw at the shade-up, and them coming onto the plain

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    Above: Through the acrid smelling bushes and deep sand toward the lake bed proper

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    Above: Holesaw makes his appearance on the lakebed, aiming for the flamingo nests

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    Above: Another milestone. Another group shot.

    Looking north from the flamingo nests, we had an amazing view of the totally dry lake bed, a jumble of black basalt stones on the right we dubbed the pyramid and Cathedral Rock on the left, backed up by the barrier volcano that has kept Lake Turkana from spilling into Suguta Valley for the last several eons. This was untouched territory. Helicopter tours, a few safaris, maybe a few herders, maybe the really rough 4x4 guys, but I’d wager damn few motorbikes have ridden in there. In any case, we felt like the first (and will probably claim it until proven otherwise). Our plan then was to ride carefully to make sure the lake bed was truly dry, aiming toward the pyramid, then arcing over to Cathedral Rock, the real star of the Logipi pan.

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    Above: Making our way along the pan, feeling for the tell-tale drag-and-slip of mud just below the surface that can really ruin your day

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    Above: The pyramid, getting close

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    Above: Cathedral Rock floating on its own mirage reflection. To the far north (right in the pic) there was some water with flamingos in it, and my previous trip had me guessing if it would be wet, it’d be wet near the Rock

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    Above: Panic in the pan

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    Above: Wry taking off with a bit of roost. Between pyramid and Cathedral Rock, we hit two small patches of black, slick mud under the surface. The surface colour changed when it was wet, so we began to navigate around on the lightest-coloured surfaces.

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    Above: Wry on the other side of what would have been a bike-swallowing section of mud

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    Above: This is the colour of dry lakebed

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    Above: Dry or not, the surface tugs at the wheel in places and rockets you forward in others

    I was in the lead, bee-lining it for Cathedral Rock. All was going fine until I got a bit too close and then both tyres of the Pig started wandering and the engine began to labour and roar. I was riding into a huge mud field. Only thing to do is be very serious about not stopping or falling down. I kept the revvs up to throw a massive roost and keep my momentum going while I made a very polite and gentile turn back toward the others who wisely waited on dry land for my return. If I’d stopped and gotten stuck out there, I think they’d have left me to die (then Holesaw would have returned to steal my forks).

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    Above: Returning after my roosty loop in the mud

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    Above: That black stuff was very sticky indeed. All day long it would break loose and fly around the bike and me

    I’d gotten close to the Rock, but not all the way. Wry led us a bit further then made one more valiant but muddy-scrambled effort to reach the not-very-distant beach under the black and gold cliffs, before we decided to give it up. Could you try for it? Yes. Could you also spend all day digging yourself out again? Also yes. We had other things to explore, so we enjoyed the view, got some pics and headed back to the edge of the lake shore. I wanted to go as far North as we could. We were 2km or so from the end of my failed track from 2017.

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    Above: Holesaw at the Cathedral Rock stopping point

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    Above: Wry on his aborted mission… As usual the pictures make you second guess the decision. But the pictures fail to show 1) distance 2) remoteness 3) depth and difficulty of that mud and 4) heat… it only takes a few stalled and stuck bikes down there to completely destroy you physically.

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    Above: A number of times we wished for drones and go-pros on this trip. I ordinarily don’t want to mess with it, but man it was the place to have one. So, I rode with one hand and got these pics instead. Panic on his way back to the Pyramid then up the lakeshore

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    Above: Wry and Holesaw exiting the gravitational pull of Cathedral Rock

    The trek to the North didn’t last very long. In no time we found ourselves cracking through the top layer into black mud below. It looked vaguely possible to rattle along the stones on the shore, but again, cost benefit analysis suggested it wasn’t worth it. We’d already agreed that if there was any reason not to continue, we’d ride back and climb the pyramid. I’m really glad we did.

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    Above: We got into more mud than it was worth fighting… and we had two kms to go around the corner

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    Above: Sure, you could maybe ride on the rocks or right at the edge of the track. Maybe next time.

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    Above: Instead, we climbed that pyramid, a black conglomeration of stone jutting out of the lake bed like an iceberg in a vast dust sea. Good place to escape from sand worms I’d suspect.

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    Above: And what a view it afforded us

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    Above: Unlike Suguta’s dune surfing Black Cone, this hike is quite a bit easier and maybe shorter, but still afforded amazing views

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    Above: The basalt stone was covered in lower reaches with a mineral deposit that looked like adobe or concrete spackle. We assume it’s from eons of the lake level coming up and down, depositing minerals on the stones as it does. For all I know, this will be the last time this century the lake is dry enough to ride on it. Is it wrong of me to hope so?

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    Above: Wry is chuffed

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    Above: The bikes look like toys, and our tracks are barely visible on the sand

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    Above: My father and I enjoying a laugh on the Logipi Pyramid

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    Amazingly, Wry had a good idea. He suggested three of us hike back down, get on the bikes and do a bit of a loop away from the Pyramid while he took some pics/vids. That’s when we got this amazing shot:

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    And this one:
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    And from down below, Wry looked like a little stick figure on the Pyramid… so, like usual… but on a pyramid…

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    We were stoked with the ride thus far, but it was time to get rolling. We had to get to Maralal before dark, and that meant saying good bye to Logipi for another year. We retraced our steps along the shore, went a bit farther down, cut in and started our climb. As Panic predicted, however, escaping from Lake Logipi would be a lot more challenging than coming in.

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    Above: Parting shots on the pyramid

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    Above: Harsh climate… not even all the flamingos make it

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    Above: We rolled out in the blasting afternoon sun, hoping to climb out of the heat and get to Maralal before dark

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    Above: The track, though very rideable, is new and consequently very soft. We spun our wheels a lot moving up and out of that place

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    Above: Holesaw making good time

    Finally, one of us screwed the pooch. It was Wry. Instead of taking the obvious line on a deeply rutted, rocky and feshy spot, he picked the doofus line and stalled the bike. I came past him like an enduro legend, and shouted as much as I roared past him, up the hill and around the corner. Looking back, I made two errors of judgement there… for one thing, my witty shouts of “JUST LIKE JARVIS CRUSHING THE MUPPETS, HAHAHA!” fell on deaf ears as Wry was wearing ear plugs and my bike is really, really loud, and also, riding all the way up the hill was a mistake because if I was to then need to help him out, I’d have to walk all the way back down and up again… alas… I was caught in the heat of the moment.

    Sure enough, after five minutes, I figured Wry needed help and slowly, painfully walked back to sort him out. What a sight… bike down, man utterly exhausted. I had to get a pic. Of course, he didn’t think that was necessary, but I document these rides warts and all. It’s for posterity. Together, we heaved the bike upright and I waddled her back down the hill to where it was a bit flatter. Just doing that and I was winded. Then, to start her back up from a flood required a few kicks, so that further winded me. I then rode her up to a flat spot as Wry was still pooped from his exertion, and that left me properly knackered.

    Which is a reminder: We only get away with riding here because we go in groups of strong riders and we don’t fall down often. It’s not for amateurs. It’s hard work and you can get it wrong and have a serious problem. It was hot, but nothing like it can be, and heat stroke can bite you in the ass in no time.

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    Above: My shot of Wry letting his bike take a rest from a long day. A gentleman would have offered her a bit of shade…

    After that little ordeal, we mostly just roared out of the valley and back to camp. I recovered after a bit and felt 100% again, but it only takes one or two more episodes like that to push you over the edge. Anyway, off we went, higher into cooler air. We stopped at the camp for lunch and just couldn’t stop talking about Logipi. It was amazing. Also, every one of us had polished off our water which means each rider needs 6L to go in and out safely, and double that or more to overnight. So there is no travelling light in there.

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    Above: Panic on the way back

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    Above: At the camp for lunch, a short rest and then onward

    Because the day was not yet over! We still had a couple hours rip to Maralal from Baragoi. So, without much fanfare, we just twisted it on. The road is a screamer and we let it scream. Instead of taking the road directly to Maralal, we always go to Barsaloi to avoid a known bandit corridor… but this time it almost felt like we’d made the wrong choice. Samburu (again) boys and morani were along the road in several places and all of them had guns. Two smaller boys stopped waving and started shouting and pretending to grab stones to throw at us and one very tall guy was right smack in the middle of the road with his AK in his hand above his head… I didn’t know what that meant, so I throttled on and rode straight at him, standing and raising my fist as well like a salute. Eish… it felt good to leave them in the dust.

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    Above: That’s a fast section you can be sure. And no, Pigs don’t feel those corrugations.

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    Above: The track is in great nick and gorgeous

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    Above: Within view of Barsaloi and the Milgis, and hence our road up to Maralal, I could see ominous clouds forming

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    Above: I consulted with the funky green spikes and they confirmed it, yep, it’s gonna rain on you boys

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    Above: Having turned at Barsaloi, we were headed right for it. If you haven’t been in a desert when the rain is coming, make sure to do so. That smell is unforgettable. It made us ride faster toward our certain soaking

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    Above: Gloomier and gloomier

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    Above: At last, proper rain. We got soaked, and it was cold, but we were within a stone’s throw of our hotel, so spirits were high. Lucky we were on bikes too because construction crews had made this road impassable by car

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    Above: Wry in the wrain

    Arriving in Maralal, we had to find the Ngari Hills Hotel. Wry kept asking how to spell it and I was getting furious with him because you can never tell if he’s being serious or not.

    Him: What’s the name of the lodge?
    Me: Ngari Hills
    Him: “Um, is it M like Mombasa?
    Me: No, it’s N.
    Him: “Say it Phonetically for me…”
    Me: N, N, fakking ENNNNNN! you asshole, I already told you!
    Him: Fine, so is it just hotel N, or is there more to it?
    Me: Wry, I’m going to strangle you! Screw this, I’m going to town to ask.

    Ugh, it was insane. Eventually we grabbed a boda and he showed us the way. The place was high on a hill (there) as promised and afforded nice views down to the quite large Maralal town. We showered up and met at the bar for a true celebration. The ride had been amazing. We’d covered a lot of ground in a short time and seen some new and incredible places. The next day we’d all tarmac it back to Nairobi, so from our point of view, the ride was over and it had been great!

    [​IMG]
    Above: Aw, but I was so looking forward to it!

    [​IMG]
    Above: Holesaw enjoying the view

    [​IMG]
    Above: Lovely place, Ngari Hills… weird, but lovely

    [​IMG]
    Above: Parting shot.

    As usual, it was a great ride boys. Lobo, sorry you couldn’t finish it with us, but there will be other rides!

    Before you go, feast your eyes and ears on 13 minutes of XRR sights and sounds from the ride. It gives another idea of what it's like out there.


    Until the next time, cheers!
    #9
    rapete, HatesSnow, aDave and 44 others like this.
  10. Bt10

    Bt10 Long timer

    Joined:
    Dec 18, 2012
    Oddometer:
    2,208
    Location:
    Saranac,MI
    Another excellent report! Thank you!
    #10
    SFDemo and Osadabwa like this.
  11. eaglescan

    eaglescan Borrego rocks

    Joined:
    Jun 17, 2009
    Oddometer:
    771
    Location:
    Langley,B C
    OK , that was a great report. I have only read about half, thanks for puttin in all the work, will be finishing the read later.
    Can't blame you for hating the Orange , but I do feel you might upgrade to a beemer someday!
    cheers
    #11
    Osadabwa likes this.
  12. mtnbikeboy

    mtnbikeboy Been here awhile

    Joined:
    Jan 9, 2011
    Oddometer:
    229
    Location:
    Longview, TX
    Awesome report and amazing pictures.

    Where was Neb on this one? Nervous about another concussion?
    #12
    Osadabwa likes this.
  13. BornAgain

    BornAgain Been here awhile

    Joined:
    Aug 31, 2008
    Oddometer:
    972
    Location:
    Rosenberg, TX
    Wow simply amazing always love seeing what shenanigans ya'll been up too. LONG LIVE BRP'S.
    #13
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  14. Pete Pilot

    Pete Pilot Been here awhile

    Joined:
    Jul 17, 2015
    Oddometer:
    389
    Location:
    Prince Edward Island. Canada
    This peddle seemed to be briefer than your expeditions of the past? Did enjoy the read. Great that the offs seemed to be minor this time. Take Care Petepilot
    #14
    Osadabwa likes this.
  15. snglfin

    snglfin this statement is untrue

    Joined:
    Jul 19, 2011
    Oddometer:
    1,150
    Location:
    berkshire county
    always dig your reports, excellent photos of incredible landscapes. thanks for sharing your trips!

    best regards,

    johnnyg
    #15
    Osadabwa likes this.
  16. Lone Stranger

    Lone Stranger Been here awhile

    Joined:
    May 16, 2010
    Oddometer:
    156
    Location:
    International


    I've seen far more humble abodes in other parts of Africa...
    #16
  17. Lone Stranger

    Lone Stranger Been here awhile

    Joined:
    May 16, 2010
    Oddometer:
    156
    Location:
    International
    Great write up!!!
    #17
  18. NAVIGATOR

    NAVIGATOR Wanderer

    Joined:
    Dec 21, 2002
    Oddometer:
    1,967
    Location:
    SOUTH OF THE USA BORDER(friendlier Mexico)
    of course you delivered, great report and video!!:clap
    #18
    Osadabwa likes this.
  19. Throttlemeister

    Throttlemeister Long timer Super Supporter

    Joined:
    Sep 17, 2007
    Oddometer:
    4,688
    Location:
    Okie near Muskogee
    :clap:clap:clapTop shelf stuff guys! Thanks for sharing it.

    The shots off the pyramid are fantastic! How far do you recon between the the cathedral and the pyramid? Looks are so very deceiving. Wonder how much cost to charter a helicopter to get out there in the middle of no where, be a nice spot for cold beers and a shore lunch:lol3
    #19
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  20. Osadabwa

    Osadabwa Don't be Surprised

    Joined:
    Mar 19, 2009
    Oddometer:
    766
    Location:
    Nairobi, Kenya
    It was a good ride alright. I wish I was still riding!

    @eaglescan that quip about "upgrading to a bmw"... now that is some funny shit!

    @mtnbikeboy Neb is, how shall I put it... otherwise occupied these days. I think we have seen the last of him on long rides, but we will keep inviting him!

    @Pete Pilot yeah it was only a little 5 day toodle, not the 10 day jaunt I like to have once a year... we have added kms to each day in order to reach farther with fewer days. As long as we are always finding newe places, the number of days isn't the most important thing.

    @Throttlemeister those two features are only 2km apart... the space is so wild down there its very hard to judge. We really need to get back there soon, but the seasons are changing and it's only getting hotter from here until next August... one year at a time.

    Cheers
    #20
    ilten, GringoRider and eaglescan like this.