CYCLE AFRICA 2012 : Onwards we cycle

Finally the day had arrived to get going on this adventure and the first morning we were greeted with warm sunshine and plenty of diesel smoke as we bustled our way out of the crazy traffic in Nairobi. Trucks wooshing by within inches of our handlebars would become a common occurrence as we climbed out of Nairobi. Not 25km into the trip our challenges began. Riding along there was a distinct popping sound coming from Craig’s bike. A truck backfiring was what everyone thought, but in fact it was the first tube to blow. Turns out the tube in Craig’s back wheel had failed – and would do so once more as we quickly realized that the spare tubes weren’t the right spec (note to self – NEVER trust the man in Evan’s cycle shop again!) Enter Francis the lifesaver – we had met him cycling along the road and he decided he would join us for our ride to Naivasha (approx 85kms), where he would leave us and promptly turn back for home. After the second popped tyre, the group was in somewhat despair as we realized the last spare tube available for Greg’s wheel was too thin and likely to pop again. Francis kindly donated his only spare tube, albeit for a 26” wheel, and made it work so we could keep rolling. His magic seemed to work, because pretty soon we were rolling down into the Rift Valley, stunning views to our left and ridiculously close trucks whizzing by on our right. Gareth was feeling left out so he decided to get a flat too, although this was repaired quickly and progress continued at a relatively respectable pace.

Rift Valley

Wondering exactly what we would do should Craig suffer another flat, our new best friend Francis told us that he would simply get some more tubes for us later in the evening (after cycling the few hours back home) and have them at our campsite for us at 9am. Furthermore, he refused to turn for home early, making sure he followed us to camp so he knew where to return the next day.

So an early camp and a quick dinner later and we were turning in for our first night camping in Kenya.

Fast forward 12 hours and Craig is waiting by the roadside wondering and hoping that Francis would be true to his word and turn up with the tubes….Suddenly in a flash of green and yellow, two cyclists whizzed by….surely not a coincidence, I stood up and went to the roadside where luckily they noticed me and returned. The first man to introduce himself was Kinja, lead rider and founder of a marvelous group called Safari Simbaz. Kinja’s mission was to assist underprivileged Kenyan boys stick to a healthy course in life and teach them bike mechanics and train them for the national team. I had read about his great work as I researched for this trip and it turns out, Francis is indeed one of his students. After a few minutes, one by one, his students rolled in, fresh from a 2 hour, 68km ride from home. The same ride took us at least 4 hours! Within minutes, the boys had tuned my rear derailleur, adjusted my brakes, hollowed out my rim to fit 2 types of valves, fitted new tubes and checked the bike over….all with a pair of scissors!

Kinja, Francis and the boys fix Craig's wheel

Check out Kinja and his team’s awesome work at www.safarisimbaz.com Inspiring stuff.

After this magical travel experience it was time to hit the road again. However given that it was fast turning into a late starting day, we decided to push on only a short distance further, before spending the day cycling and trekking through Hell’s Gate national parks. This park is one of the only ones on our trip where we will be allowed to cycle right through with nothing between us and the Buffaloes, Zebra’s, Giraffes and gazelles etc. We all agreed it was a stop worth making and were spellbound by the breathtaking landscape….definitely one of those “yep, we are in Africa” moments, not soon forgotten. That night, we were lucky enough to spot a few Hippo’s making their evening rounds munching weeds and reeds about 20m from our tent. The ranger assured us that the electric fence was there to protect us but judging by the growls and grunts we all kept waking to throughout the night, we weren’t so sure!

Hell's Gate National Park

Thankfully the next morning we rose and found all our tents and belongings in tact and pushed off for another day. Deciding to take the “scenic” route (read: ridiculously bumpy and sandy) around the lake, we soon found ourselves ankle deep in sand doing its best to tip us off our bikes. The price to pay for a fall in our group is one round of beers that evening, so it was amazing to see the stability and agility shown in tough conditions. We were rewarded for our choice of route however, as we were treated to roadside viewings of giraffes, warthogs and baboons as we cycled past farms and small villages, all interested in our presence. Later during the day we were greeted by a Dutch couple who had driven all the way from Holland and were bound for Cape town before shipping their vehicle to Australia for further travels. We were all inspired that these guys were still taking everything life had to offer and seeing lots of cool places along the way. We were more than a bit jealous of their custom built camper truck also! Finally out of the sand and rocks, we meandered along back on the main highway before getting our afternoon downpour that would soon become a common occurrence and opting to stay the night and a dusty town called Gilgil.

Tough riding around Lake Naivasha

Sunburn competition

Local Kids

Gareth helping the locals with dinner

Dutch couple bound for Australia and beyond

Rough riding....

So 3 days in, with only 150km or so behind us, we were all keen to get some miles done. That being said, the “fast” route always included highways and dangerous trucks, which was not what anyone was interested in, so we continued along the side roads in the general direction of where we needed to end up a few days later. The next few days were punctuated with steep climbing, fast descents and unforgettable experiences with local children, who all seemed happy and enthusiastic about our presence, albeit a bit curious as to why 5 whities were cycling through their tranquil and relaxed highland villages.

equator pass

Cycling over the equator, we finally thought we were making some real progress. Not half an hour later though, the familiar storm clouds rolled over our heads and it was high time to make camp. Cresting a hill we discovered a small little village we thought would be perfect to hole up for the night. Ben had quickly made friends with a local woman who let us camp behind her “house”….turns out it was the only pub in town….go figure! So that night consisted of sitting out a rainstorm inside a small pub, conversing with lots of drunk locals, amongst them an ex Sudanese soldier (we kept good friends with him). Dinner was hard to come by as there were no food shops in town – however with Gareths talking and willing, we managed to convince the local butcher to boil up the rice and potatoes we had been carrying. The fact that he had to start a fire from scratch before even starting meant we had a nice long wait – no troubles though as we were getting very well immersed in the local culture by then!

After a fairly intense day of climbing hills the following day, our afternoon quickly turned wet again as the storm clouds approached. Only haven cycled 58km in over 4hrs on the bike, some were keen to keep going, but the wise decision was made to pull up camp for the night as the storm rolled overhead. This time though, there were no pubs – even better – a semi abandoned police administration building that our new friend Sunny was happy to let us camp in. We even had our own armed soldier to keep us company for the night! Staying at a government building has its ups and downs though – turns out they start work at 6am! This meant an early day on the cycles for us. Not a bad idea though really, as we had set out to make the entire 130km to Kitale that day, where we would have our planned rest day, before heading into Uganda and around Mt Elgon. So this is where we are now, taking a well earned rest day after almost 500km of cycling up, down and around the Kenyan highlands, with wonderful landscapes, entertaining locals who have been extremely friendly and helpful and far too many dishes of beans and rice!

Tim getting assistance from locals..

Tomorrow we are off again and we have just heard that the road ahead is mud. Not dirt – MUD. So this is going to be interesting….

In the photos you may see a wonderfully coloured shirt donated by our friend Ebony to carry around Africa….this shirt has quickly been dubbed the “idiot shirt” and is to be worn by the person who did the silliest thing the previous day. Thus far, Tim has had the honour once, Craig twice and Gareth twice (once for chasing and trying to murder a local chicken)….the shirt is yet to be washed and I feel sorry for whoever gets it next after Craig just wore it for almost 7 hours yesterday!!!

Stupid shirt...

By far the most enjoyable experiences we have had thus far have all involved the people we have met – Francis and Kinja who saved Craig’s bike early on, Judi the pub owner who let us camp in her yard for the price of one beer and Sunny the policeman who kept us warm and safe in the dusty old police building. The kids however, are by far everyone’s highlights. I turn now to our guest write Ben Scott (sporting a new shaved head) to detail on how these experiences have pushed us along thus far;

Whenever planning a trip, the first thing we tend to think about are the “must-see’s” on the area we are visiting…in Africa it’s the wildlife, the National Parks, the landscapes, and the route is typically planned around these attractions. However, when the travels are done and we think back, it’s almost always the people and the culture which we remember most. And so far, cycling around Kenya, this couldn’t ring more true. The bewilderment and excitement on particularly the young children’s faces in remote villages and communities is something that really has been putting a huge grin on all our faces…”Mzungu!!!” (“white people!!!”) is a cry we have been getting used to hearing as we pedal along…young children, hiding in the bushes, semi-scared, semi-excited, screaming this out to all their friends. We ring our bells, smile and wave and before long they are running along beside us, “Jambo!”, “Habari Gani?”, “Who are you?!”. ..they keep up as we roll by, sometimes for kilometers, just laughing, yelling, staring...sometimes whole schools spill out onto the roadside, stopping us in our tracks, eager to have a chat, a laugh and a photo…little do they know they’re etched in our memories for just as long as we’re likely etched into theirs.