First of all, Djo Thefu is the best rider ever… It’s April
Fools Day somewhere on earth as I type this so expect a lot of plausible
deniability to be associated with this article. They say that there is a very
thin line between stupidity and brilliance and having crossed that line
countless times, I would easily take their word for it. This is the story of
what I believe stands as the most daring all night long motorcycle ride of all
time in Kenya.
DAY ZERO…
It all starts badly. It’s Monday the 25th day of
March, 2019. I have a work assignment in the Western part of the country
tomorrow. Sonic, my new partner in crime is not due for service yet but I
decide to do a quick oil change because the Bikeble says, “thou shall love and
treat your motorcycle right”. It’s a quarter to five in the evening. I rush to
DT Dobie to buy a couple of liters of Motul 4T 7100 oil hoping to get there
before they close shop. I make it on time.
I don’t feel like riding in traffic all the way to my usual garage
along Thika road so I decide to have the oil change done near my house. Big
mistake. They somehow drop the bike while draining the oil and thereafter spill
some 250ml of the oil because someone forgets to return the drain plug before
pouring the fresh oil into the engine. I’m distraught. Lesson learnt.
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| At the Oil Change Spot...You can spot the spilled oil and scratch marks |
DAY ONE…
I wake up early on Tuesday morning. It’s supposed to be a
group ride. Djo Thefu has just installed the best headlights I have ever seen
on a motorcycle up to this day and he’s keen to show off. We are meant to start
the trip at 4:30am but I am not too keen to ride at grandpa speeds through the
freezing cold and fog ridden Limuru to Naivasha section in the dark so despite
being awake, I choose to give Djo Thefu an hour long headstart. Another Big
mistake.
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| All Set and Ready To Go! |
I pack my stuff on the bike and leave the house at a few
minutes to six. It’s already 6:10am when I fuel my bike at Uthiru. Djo Thefu
has been on the road for over an hour and I am supposed to play catch up. We
have been teasing each other about speed and comfort on our respective bikes
are. I am a fast rider but the Limuru-Kimende-Kinungi stretch is having none of
it. It is as cold and misty as I dreaded and my lazy ass doesn’t consider
stopping to unload my luggage where my rain-gear is packed so I pretty much ride
trembling until the sun rises at Naivasha. At this point, Djo Thefu is leaving
Nakuru. I am approximately a half an hour behind him. Having been riding as
slow as our government’s services, I reckon that I won’t need to haul ass to
catch up since I’d have to ride at his speed thereafter which is counterproductive
so 110kph it shall be….and I maintain it.
I stop at Nakuru to confirm that I caught a certain
beautiful machine on camera and thereafter I stop at the equator at Timboroa
for a quick scientific experiment. We are in the middle of the equinox period
and I needed to see how fluids behave on and at either side of the sphere. The
results clearly conclude that peeing pretty much seems the same at the equator
and across on both the upper and the lower sides of the earth. I do these
things so that you don’t have to. You’re welcome.
I get to Eldoret at 9:27am. Djo Thefu is 13 minutes ahead
according to his last SMS. This dinosaur is faster that I expected but knowing
Eldoret’s traffic jam problems, I am convinced that I’ll get to him in a few
minutes. All goes well as I sail into and through the town. I even bump into
Dr. Moindi, an Eldoret based biker who races with us under the code name
Kalashnikov.
I stop to refuel at Tosha Petrol Station near West in
Eldoret. Sonic has consumed exactly Kshs.1,000/= worth of fuel. I am impressed.
I might or might not have engaged in a short race somewhere between Timboroa
and Burnt Forest which saw me maintain a certain unknown speed for about a
minute in a bid to calculate how long it takes to make a Toyota Allion disappear.
It didn’t take long. I resume playing catch up with Djo Thefu but a few minutes
later….BOOOM! I just got involved in an accident. My first one on open roads. I
am not the blameworthy party. I won’t even talk about it. It was minor.The bike
is not damaged much and I am okay as I didn’t fall down…skills…moving on swiftly…
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| The Damage! |
One Hour Later….
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| As you can see, the bike looks just fine...Djo Thefu's dinosaur can be partially spotted in this picture. |
D-DAY…
We ride from Webuye to Kiminini where I spend a few hours
doing day two of the job. I don’t talk much about my legal work. But in the
spirit of being a semi-retired musician, let me show you how to blow a trumpet.
I had never lost a law suit. I am able to ride as much as I do because of my
legal work. I got to prove Djo Thefu wrong on a sensitive matter on this
particular day. You should try it. It’s easier said than done.
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| At Brigadier |
I conclude the job at around 2:00pm and we do a meet the
people tour that lasts up to around 3:30pm. I decide that I must do a random
ride before returning to Nairobi. I have always wanted to complete my 47 Kenyan
counties tour. I have four counties left and two of them are within four hours
of my current location according to Google Maps. I tell Djo Thefu that I will
be riding through West Pokot and Turkana counties on this evening. Djo Thefu
doesn’t think that it’s a good idea and so he refuses to join me but agrees to
ferry my luggage on his Dinosaur to save me from the imminent dosage of
fatigue. Smart Chap. And just like that, I make up my mind that I am going to
ride to Turkana.
Let me help you paint a mental picture. I am at “Stendi
Matope” near Naitiri Market in Bungoma County at around 3:30pm. That’s a muddy
village which is at least 10kms off the nearest tarmac road and it’s been
raining for the last half an hour or so. I am riding a low displacement stock
sportbike and my destination of choice is some 251kms away through some bandit
and flash floods infested areas. Please note that the main reason why I am
doing this trip is satisfy my curiosity. Call me crazy…I have been called
worse.
I set off. It’s not my first time riding through mud so I
don’t have any worthy memories of the muddy section to write home about. I get to
Kitale shortly after 4:20pm where I fuel up, ask for directions to Lodwar, set
up a music play list on my phone and soldier on towards Kapenguria. Disaster
strikes shortly thereafter. Moments after joining the road towards Lodwar, some
wasps hitch hike under my baraclava on my neck and decide to pay me with
several painful stings. Excruciating pain can break the resolve of even the
strongest men. This pain plants seeds of doubt within my head but they simply
don’t germinate because the stupid wasp stung the wrong quitter this time.
I am now riding in PAIN towards Kapenguria. It drizzles a
bit and I welcome the rain as it seems to numb my neck pains. As I enter
Kapenguria town, it hits me that I am now in West Pokot county. I am doing it.
I only have three more counties to go. I forget about the pain. The drive to do
the trip increases tremendously. As if I needed a sign of encouragement, I
notice another rider on a 650cc Kawasaki Ninja Sports Tourer. I stop to halla.
He can’t believe that I am riding towards Lokichar at that hour.
We part ways
and I proceed to venture through the most scenic road section in Kenya (in my
books). I decide to upload a quick picture of the first set of hills with a
caption that wrongfully describe them as Mt. Elgon. No one notices.
Unfortunately, people just haven’t traveled much across this country so you
can easily misguide them.
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| Just Past Chebareria |
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| You can see the hills from a distance. |
The Kapenguria – Marich road is hilly, twisty, not busy and
full of the most interesting combination of humans, domestic and wild animals.
I was riding through the area as the sun was about to set and I can assure you
that I have never felt so fulfilled by sights and sounds during my over
62,000kms of riding as I was on this particular evening. I made several stops
to take pictures and videos while completely oblivious of the alleged security issues
associated with the area after the sunset. If you love nature, you should
absolutely make time and visit this area before you die. I promise you that it
will be worth it.
There is a series of long, steep descents with one
particularly biker friendly section marked as the Kamatira Blackspot which is a
6.5km downhill set of twisties which is a mini biker heaven and a nightmare for
truck drivers. The ride from Kamatira to Marich is pretty much one long
downhill ride that stretches for approximately 60kms and I loved every bit of
that road section. Marich to Kainuk was a rather flat dash which calls for
cautious riding as there is one seasonal riverbed crossing that could easily
catch one off-guard and bring them down.
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| Kainuk Side A |
I arrive at Kainuk at 6:10pm. I feel great as I ride the across
the river. The damaged bridge is still under repair and motorists currently
cross the river through a makeshift riverbed bridge which is prone to flooding
whenever it rains. I came prepared to end my journey at this point in case the
makeshift bridge was flooded despite the fact that Turkana county lies just a
few kilometers past that bridge. I stop at the end of Kainuk town and take a
few pictures. I post one of them on social media. I am curious to hear what my
friends have to say about this trip.
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| Same spot from the rear side of the bike |
I try calling Djo Thefu to gloat…it’s in my nature. He doesn’t
pick up. Djo Thefu once did this trip without me. He rode all the way to
Lodwar. We were supposed to travel together but something came up on my part so
I didn’t make the trip. It took him a whole day to ride from Nairobi to Kainuk
where he spent the night. Before I embarked on my journey earlier today, he was
skeptical that I would make it to this point. The road is not perfect. He had
insisted that if I do, I should spend the night here. He is a wise man who
definitely knows his stuff…But if you have read about my previous trips, you
are not new to my hints of insanity. Getting to Kainuk feels like nothing at
this point. I feel like I might decide to go berserk tonight. Turkana county is
just a few minutes away. I get back on my bike and ride on.
My target destination is Lokichar. Lokichar is a town, well
within Turkana county, which is just over sixty Kilometers (60 kms) from Kainuk
towards Lodwar. Travelers know it as the town at which the tarmac road ends
whereas Investors will tell you that it is the town at which you branch off the
main highway to head towards the Turkana oil fields. As for me, Lokichar is a
town approximately 700kms from Nairobi to which I am riding out of pure
curiosity. Oh hail, domestic tourism!
I am a few kilometers past Kainuk now and it is raining. I
am currently within Turkana county and in high spirits. My rain gear and a set
of tools is the only luggage I have brought for this trip so I stop for a quick
dress up and proceed with the journey.
Picture this… A lonely tarmac road in the middle of nowhere
with thickets on either side; rain water appears motionless due to the gradient
of the area; huge patches of cow dung, some spanning over a kilometer at a time
presenting a new risk of the bike slipping and sliding; pretty much every adult
male sighted by the roadside is carrying a rifle; there’s not a single bridge
from Kainuk town so every river crossing is to be done on the river bed… This
is new territory even for me. I have never seen anything like this before. This
means I am headed in the right direction. You should see the smile on my face
as I traverse this road section.
I get to Kalemngorok, a small town halfway between Kainuk
and Lokichar. The rains have subsided but darkness is beginning to set in. I am
stopped at a police roadblock by some friendly police officers. One of them
turns out to be a bike enthusiast. We chat for about five minutes. They can’t
believe that I have come all the way for fun. I tell them that I am ending my
journey at Lokichar but I might decide to return to Nairobi later that night.
They think that I am bluffing and I like it. They warn me to look out for flash
floods at the various riverbed crossings. I bid them farewell and proceed towards
Lokichar.
There are at least ten riverbed crossings between Kalemngorok
and Lokichar. Those are points at which flush floods floow downhill. The locals call them "Laga". The contractors have used concrete slabs on the seasonal
riverbeds as bridges. It catches you off-guard. One moment you are cruising in
what seems to be an endless road and the next, the tarmac disappears leaving
you at the mercy of some slippery debris and a ditch covered in concrete which
is pretty much what every river crossing looks like on this part of the world.
It hasn’t rained much so there isn’t enough water on the riverbeds to sweep me
and my bike away…it happens around here…a lot. A half an hour later as I ride
cautiously through the dark, I see light… very many lights…. I am at entering
Lokichar… I made it mama!!! ARIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIIIIII!!!!!!
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| At Lokichar - Mwisho wa Lami (junction towards the Turkana Oil Fields) |
The problem with getting to a new place at night in Kenya is that you don’t get to see much of it. Most of our towns are poorly lit. I ride to the end of town and stop at the end of the tarmac road. I take a few snaps in the midst of a crowd that gathers quickly. In some towns like Eldoret, Nairobi and Mombasa, it would be stupid to stop at such a place because you would get mugged so fast…unless things have changed. I answer the usual questions about my bike’s top speed and engine capacity, ask a few questions about the area, bid them farewell and head back to the middle of town to look for food and fuel.
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| A few locals joined me |
It has been all over the news that that the people of
Turkana are starving. It hits me that I am in Turkana and I haven’t had much to
eat since breakfast. Will I find a place to buy a decent meal here in Turkana?
I quickly find a restaurant, order whatever is ready to eat which turns out to
be a small portion of Ugali and some goat meat. I even get a glimpse of a news
report about the Turkana famine which elicits some interesting feedback from
the locals in that restaurant. The truth is that Turkana is a very big county
and areas such as Lokichar and pretty much my entire route today have not been
affected by famine. The people and the numerous livestock along the road
appeared healthier than I was.
I take out my phone and do another social media update. My
previous posts have garnered some noteworthy feedback. I announce that I have
decided to ride back to Nairobi overnight. Pretty much everyone is opposed to
the feasibility of the decision. I am not moved. I have a thing for standing
against mental barriers. I had never heard of anyone who rode 700kms at night
before…at least not in the rain or through bandit and flash flood infested
territory. It sounds like a stupid challenge to undertake but I am feeling so
fresh and energetic that I can’t wait to get started on this epic trip… I feel
like the over 250kms I covered to get here was a walk in the park.
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| My meal |
My meal is interrupted by a gentleman who rushes towards me to
alert me about a huge crowd that has gathered outside around my bike at the
parking lot. I hurriedly finish my joke of a meal, pay and walk to the bike
where approximately forty people are gathered discussing my bike and taking
pictured while on and around it. We do a Q&A session where they ask about
the bike as I ask about travelling to Nairobi at night. I am prepared to spend
the night if the feedback is scary. People in remote places have a very honest
way of describing their own past experiences.
There are signs indicating imminent heavy rains later
tonight. The locals tell me that if the rains find me in the town, I could end
up being stuck here for up to three days because of the floods which render the
river beds impassable. Being stuck here for three days is not an option unless
the roads are already impassable at this point. I decide to leave immediately
but they advise me to wait for a bus or a shuttle to travel as a convoy as the
public transport vehicles are known to be quite fast…I love the sound of that.
The challenge about travelling at night on unfamiliar roads is
navigation…anticipating twists and turns, potholes, bumps and other potential
hazards along the way. A fast vehicle acts as a guide. All you need do is to
follow it from a safe distance to reduce the amount of work needed to keep
moving at a good pace.
I leave them satisfied with the information and head towards
the only open petrol station. I fill up. My bike has consumed Kshs.1,006 from
my last refuel at Kitale town. The fuel attendant lets me use their facilities
to relieve myself and advises me to wait for a bus or shuttle to pass by the
station citing a bandit incident which had occurred two weeks prior. As I wait
for the “convoy”, I meet Mr. Oscar Kundu. A biker/bike enthusiast from Lokichar
town. He keeps me company and engages the fuel attendant and I in discussions
as we await the convoy. These are good people. I wish the people around the
country were this nice. At a few minutes to 10pm, a shuttle fly by. I gear up,
bid my new friends goodbye and give chase.
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| My new Friend Oscar at Kapese Petrol Station |
It sinks in. I just started the impossible journey back to
Nairobi. I need to catch up with the shuttle shuttle or else I will have to
risk riding alone through the bandit lands which I am definitely not looking
forward to. I can see two sets of tail lights a few hundred meters ahead and I
accelerate enthusiastically and the bike reminds me of why people fear these
things…I get into a road section with loose chippings and sort of lose control
as the bike drifts and fishtails uncontrollably for almost three seconds. I was
not aware of this danger as I had been riding cautiously and much slower as I
rode into Lokichar. Thankfully, I regain control and slow down. The taillights
disappear far ahead of me and my fears are confirmed…it is going to be a very
long night.
The thoughts of being stuck in Turkana for a few days are
starting to overwhelm me. Riding is very much a psychological thing. If you are
not in the perfect mindset at any time during the ride, anything can happen…and
it’s usually a very forgettable experience. I decide to try a few minutes of
slow riding to see if it feels comfortable enough upon which I’ll decide
whether to proceed or turn back. Luckily for me, barely a couple of minutes
later I notice the two vehicles that I had been chasing parked at the roadside.
The shuttle driver has stopped to make a phone call while the Prado team decide
to wait for the shuttle in a bid to ride together as a convoy. This occurrence
seems to rekindle my spirits. I decide that keeping up is going to be risky so
I leave them behind and proceed with my journey. I find myself at the
Kalemngorok police barrier where I stop to chat with my friends from earlier on
about the security situation which ahead of me.
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| Waiting in the dark at Kalemngorok |
The officers tell me that there has been a smooth flow of
traffic so far that evening with no reports of bandit attacks or sightings. A
while later, the Prado guys arrive and stop at the side of the road. They
decide to wait for the shuttle. The plan is to have me ride sandwiched between
the two vehicles. Some police reservists emerge from a nearby bush and engage
the police officers in some discussions. I overhear them discussing our
ethnicities and obviously, I do not like the sound of it. Two of the officers
come towards me and engage me in a conversation about speed bikes and Kenyan
bikers. One of them asks about my friend Marley, purporting to be friends with
him. I call Marley and tell him about it. Marley speaks to the officer briefly.
The shuttle catches up with us. The two drivers signal that
its time to proceed with the journey. It is drizzling at this point. I take too
long to gear up so they leave me behind once more. I know that I shouldn’t ride
too fast in the rain through unfamiliar roads because that’s how accidents
happen. I hurriedly bid the officers goodbye, mount my bike and off I go. It
takes me about ten minutes to catch up with the convoy. Soon thereafter, I am
faced with yet another challenge. The tyres of the speeding vehicles are
spraying too much water at me meaning that the plan to ride between them cannot
work. My motorcycle helmet doesn’t have wipers. I am forced to lead the convoy
but I am not sure how fast I need to go to avoid inconveniencing the vehicles
or risking being hit from behind so I send it.
No feeling beats riding through a bandit infested area at
night in the rain at an ungodly speed. My mind is lost in thoughts. I wonder
whether guns work under heavy rain. I wonder whether bandits have assistants to
cover them with an umbrella. I think about how dumb it would be for a bandit to
brave the rains for a chance to rob a motorcyclist with no valuables or priced
possessions. I think to myself that riding faster would make it so much harder
for anyone to hit me…and that’s how I forget to look behind and end up losing
the cars. I arrive at Kainuk in no time and consume two half liter packets of
milk within the fifteen or so minutes that it takes the cars to catch up. They
don’t stop at Kainuk.
The rains have subsided. The Kainuk riverbed crossing is not
flooded and I am able to ride through. We still have to get to Marich before I
can breathe a sigh of relief on the bandit issue. This particular road section
is well marked and dry so I am able to ride faster in the middle of the road.
The two vehicles have literally disappeared so I assume that they’ve engaged
their respective turbos. Sonic is a quick motorcycle. I catch up effortlessly
and get to the Marich police barrier within no time. It’s a quarter past
eleven. The cars catch up as I talk to the officers manning the barrier. We
thank each other for the company, bid each other farewell and part ways.
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| Huduma Center, Kapenguria |
The road from Marich to Kapenguria is full of twisties,
ascents and descents. Doing this section on a wet night is particularly tricky
all goes smoothly. I even spot some hyenas eating something at the roadside
near Ortum town. I ride past Chebareria and Kamatira then make a stopover at
Kapenguria where I take some photographs outside Huduma Center and give my
online followers a quick update. I ride on and get to Kitale at half past
midnight. I stop at the Kitale Club signboard and take another set of
pictures. I still have sufficient fuel in my tank so I ride onwards towards Eldoret.
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| Kitale |
I encounter the heaviest rains of the night between Kitale
and Eldoret. All cars are being driven at snail paces. The Kitale to Eldoret
road is narrow and doesn’t appear to have any space at the edge of the lanes. I
am glad to be riding because the small size of the bike allows me to enjoy the
use of the limited road space without the fear of being forced out of the road
by the visually impaired oncoming drivers. It takes me an hour to get to
Eldoret but some water has found its way into my boots, baraclava and gloves
and as a result, I am freezing. I refuel at the Total petrol station directly
opposite the Eldoret Police Station then ride into a hotel near Safaricom house
where I take a few cups of tea.
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| Refuelling at Eldoret |
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| The situation at Eldoret |
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| The Tea |
I log into facebook where I get to read and respond to diverse
views from friends and followers regarding my trip. Many are of the opinion
that the trip is too risky. Others are captivated by my madness with a few
urging me on with their good wishes. I notice that my friend Djo Thefu who is
also following my progress is spending the night at Eldoret. I am oozing with
energy and the urge to move on with the trip. I leave Eldoret at 3:30am having
rested and warmed myself up for approximately two hours.
I ride nonstop from Eldoret to Westlands. The foggy sections
at Timboroa and Kimende are particularly loathsome. It takes four hours to
complete this last leg of the trip. I am exhausted. I realize that I have been
riding from afternoon to dusk to dawn. I have just covered over 700kms of
riding in one night…safe and without incidents. I feel great! Deep down, I know
that as much as I didn’t need to pull this off, I am so proud of myself for
having pulled myself together to demonstrate to myself and the world about the
potential that lies in riding motorcycles. A safety-oriented rider can achieve
so much. I get to my house, drink a liter of fresh milk, take a shower and jump
into my bed for a well-deserved rest….
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| Refuelling at Deloitte, Westlands |
