The Most Extreme Night Ride Of All Time

                                             A NIGHT (RIDE) TO REMEMBER

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 25^th 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.

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.

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…

The Damage!

One Hour Later….

As you can see, the bike looks just fine...Djo Thefu's dinosaur can be partially spotted in this picture. 

I arrive at Webuye. I didn’t catch up with the Dinosaur ofcourse. We get day one of the work done. We contemplate riding to Kakamega to say hi to Kitosh but Djo seems tired and sleepy so nothing happens. We compare headlights and my stock LEDs look like a glow worm’s butt when fully lit next to Djo’s DIY HID mini sunlights. His Dim lights are better my full light. These are the best motorcycle headlights I have ever seen. He lets me ride the Tenere within the compound and we call it a night.

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.

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.

Just Past Chebareria

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.

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.

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!!!!!!

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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.

Refuelling at Eldoret

The situation at Eldoret

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….

Refuelling at Deloitte, Westlands