March 6^th

There is something I like about Marsabit. The corrugated shacks from which the shops do business can not be said to be charming; the little “hotel” where we ate a full pasta for £1 .50 and freshly-pressed mango juice for 20p.,made no pretentions with its sawdust floor; the goats, huddled by the wall of the bank like patient customers, did not offer a modern image. I think it is more about the way people will obligingly go out of their way and find a route round the large puddles to show you where to go; the internet works, I have been able to get a sim card, batteries for my headset- what an inconvenience that has been – and a set of sunglasses after the last pair just broke in half.

The setting is quite pleasant, especially after the harshness of the surrounds. Here it is green and trees abound.

The sun came out this afternoon and dried most of the washing. The Sisters, on a suggestion I made yesterday, baked cakes – for sale, of course. Their coffers are being well-filled, but so are our bellies! Freshly-baked sponge cake, can you imagine!  I thought it was hilarious that the Sisters were suggesting that the cakes would be good to take with us tomorrow as there would be nowhere to buy anything.  Mine never even saw the door of the canteen.

I was set to thinking last night about all the names we have been called on this trip.  Farang, or farangi, (meaning stranger), has been very common, but I have also been called, very respectively, father and papa, as well as motherf—-r.  But right from the start, our tough, dry-humoured, main driver, Erril, has called me “old man”. I have kind of got used to it now and will be sad when he, and the other hired crew members, leave us in Nairobi, to be replaced by a fresh crew.

March 7th. Onwards from Marsabit.

The wind got up during the night. Opening the flap at 6am., there was swirling mist concealing the hill-tops and a real threat of a storm. Our first 55 kms. were not meant to be difficult, as the tendency is always downhill. In fact the first few kms. are very much downhill, but  the surface is very rough and in places muddy. Picking my way carefully down, I could not believe my eyes as Simon (Francis) passed me like a bullet, in a straight line. At first I thought he must be out of control; but he has front suspension and is a very experienced mountain-bike rider. He, and those others who have suspension, are generally-speaking enjoying the rough dirt.

Soon after, a jackal crossed the track some 30m. ahead of me, a bigger animal than I had thought. Others were to see gazelles and baboons.

From the lushness of these first kms., the vegetation would gradually change into almost desert, but at 25 kms, we had the first drama. I had stopped to use the toilet just after a heavily-rutted, muddy quagmire, that we had to walk through. Walking back to the track afterwards, there were the 2 Spanish girls again, stuck in the mud. A few riders were pushing them backwards and managed to get them back onto the firmer ground. But they were worried that they had burnt out the clutch. All they could do was wait for a lorry to come and pull them through. We never saw them again until they passed as we were lunching. “Who says you need 4-wheel drive in Africa”, one of them shouted. I next saw them about 5 kms. further on, stopped again, one of the girls under the engine!

Meanwhile, still on the way to lunch. three riders were stopped with a group of Masai women. Our lot were taking photos and the women were demanding money. They were carrying machetes and seemed to be getting agitated.  I chose not to stop.

For a two mile stretch around where we had our lunch, flood waters were pouring into the bush around us,  although we received no rain ourselves. Just up the road, the track was badly flooded. A lorry was stuck in the middle, blocking the path of an oncoming lorry and our two lorries behind.

The afternoon was predicted to be extremely corrugated. We were helped by partial cloud cover and a light breeze and perhaps the rain eased our way a little. It was enough to do to finish, but not atrocious.

It is exciting to think that soon we will be seeing Mount Kenya. Only two more days of these very rough tracks and away we go!

Distance: 97kms.   Time cycling: 6 hrs. 40 mins.  Av. speed: 14.6 kph.

March 8th  The rain arrives.

I heard the thunder, saw flashes of lightning, and the light tapping of rain on the ten began. It was time to be up anyway. I was lucky in being able to get my tent down and move my daily belongings, comprising one very full carry-all and the tent, over to the lorry. Then the skies opened.  Half the tents were still up. Indeed, some of the riders had pitched in the pretty, dry river-bed just across from the lorries. They must have got out of there very sharply because within minutes, a flash flood had turned it into a fastmioving river.  When I looked a little later, there was still a tent on the other side of the river!

My first priority was to get my mudguards off the bike; there is no clearance for these conditions.There was no point sheltering from the rain; we were clearly going to get wet anyway  I tried to snatch some food while I did it. The lorry that serves the breakfast cannot hang about. It has to get to camp and getting stuck is certainly a factor to allow time for. (One of the lorries got stuck yesterday).So I missed the Weetabix!

The rain, which kept coming back during the rest of the morning, made the sand soft. So, although the corrugation was a little less bumpy, the effort of pushing through the sand was strength-sapping and reduced speed, at times, down to 5 kph.  But I was rather enjoying it!  There was no heat, but neither were we cold, despite being drenched.  Many times we crossed rivers that were dry yesterday and were now working overtime.  We saw no wildlife yet I sensed it all about me; the only noise was some birdsong and the loud croaking of frogs from time to time.

Lunch was at 55 kms.  At 45 kms., we had a blessing.  A new track had been made to allow work to progress on changing the main track into a road. This new track had a firm base, and though severely waterlogged in many places, allowed us to forge ahead.

For lunch, I ate 14 rounds of bread with tuna/tomato and peanut butter/syrup, followed by a banana. I felt like more.

The afternoon was relatively easy due to the road-making. Arriving in camp about 3.30, there was just enough time to put up the tent, clean myself and the bike with puddle water in the road, clean and oil the chain, put out some laundry and attend the rider meeting. The upshot is that there is no more than 25 kms. more of dirt before we hit the tarmac on our way to Isiolo tomorrow.

Weight loss:  Everyone, I believe, has lost weight. I only noticed how much two days ago when I had difficulty shaving the hollows of my cheeks!  But apparently, this levels out round the half-way mark (of the journey, I mean), and once in Cape Town, the whole process is reversed within a week.

Quotes of the day:

Viv  (Just before 45kms) said to me: “I was just about to give up It is alright for you, you have your charity to keep you going. I was just thinking how much I would reather have been back at work”.

Rick (Tonight) “Each night I tell myself I will not ride tomorrow. But each day I get up and put my cycling shoes on”.

Distance: 89 kms.  Time cycling: 6 hrs. 16 mins.  Av.speed: 14.2 kph.

PS It is 8 pm. Someone is snoring in the tent next to me. There has just been a loud bang as somebody’s tube has burst. The snoring has stopped.

March 9th To Isiolo. A bright start to the day, but with plenty of cloud cover and mild temperatures, allied to mainly bump-free cycling – what more could you ask for?  Traffic is minimal, the only people we see, apart from in a couple of small villages, are small groups of local tribespeople, usually heavily-adorned with necklace, bracelets and bright clothing, and, in the case of men, often spears.

In a few spots, a few people would be sat by the road with large sacks of charcoal, selling them for 700 shillings (about £7).

At Archer’s Point, the tarmac ended for a while. It was here, a few days ago, that floodwaters washed away some houses, leaving six people drowned. The river we crossed there was still raging and the track very slippy. A couple of our riders came off here.

Maybe we have been a bit lucky, arriving everywhere just after the worst of the rain.

Our campsite is a few kms. further on from Isiolo, at a place called Rangelands. It is a motel/campsite. We have use of a toilet and cold shower and availability of some food. The bar even serves cold, bottled Guiness!

A few riders, as is usual, choose to take a room at about $20. I am choosing not to, as I want to be able to take my wife on holiday to Vienna when I get back; now that I have this big tent, a trip to Vienna seems quite do-able!!

Most of us have changed our tyres today. I have been using 2″ tyres, running them at 2.5 bar. I pumped them up to 3.5 bar this morning, not knowing how much dirt lay ahead.. But now we are back on tarmac till Tanzania, I have replaced the mudguards and put on 1″ tyres inflated to 6.5 bar. So far, I have had no punctures. The Schwalbe have to be the benchmark for all tyres.

Tomorrow is a climbing day with the route taking us past Mt. Kenya. Three local riders joined us tonight, and they have us warned us to expect cold winds around the area. of Mt.Kenya.

Distrance: 81 kms.  Time cycling;  3 hrs. 31 mins.  Av.speed: 22.9 kph.

March 10^th.

It was no surprise that it lashed it down again at 6am this morning. But it lasted only 15 mins. And then we could continue.

Back on the road today are Marcel –  you will remember he had a bad fall some time ago – and Paddy, who had interrupted his trip to fly to London for an important interview for entrance to a prestigious university. More about that in a few weeks!

The first 30 kms.  was a long climb, quite tough, but in temperatures you would pray for. Pastureland gave way to golden fields of wheat and barley, reaching to the steeper slopes of the small hills dotted about. As we got higher- we had 1400m. to climb in this stretch- the fields got ever larger and on the higher levels included large greenhouse complexes that were, I think, devoted to flower-growing. The lunch truck was waiting for us at 40 kms, with what should have been a view straight over to Mount Kenya. As we ate the delicious egg-bread that Janet was frying, the sun came out, the clouds broke and gave us a glimpse of snow. Then, for a few minutes, we were treated to a full view of the snowy peak.

From there, it was downhill with a tailwind, very fast, and most of us made the 70kms. total to the Sportsman’s Arms Hotel before lunch. We are camping on their grass, but we have a room available for us to take a hot shower- my first, I think, since Luxor.

I have just walked into this pleasant little place of Nanyuki, bought some washing powder, ginger biscuits and a litre of yoghurt. As I sorted out why I cannot make a phone call to Carole, my wife, got some money from the ATM and wrote this blog, the yoghurt and biscuits have disappeared. They were delicious!

By the way, Viv – remember her comment?- won the stage yesterday and today in the women’s section!

One good piece of news I have to relate….So many of you were instrumental in my winning a free section of the TDA last year. I had agreed that the TDA auction it off, with the money received going to Thamsanqa. This got complex. Henry Gold, the owner of TDA, has agreed that to simplify the matter for all comcerned, TDA will pay 500 euros direct to Thamsanqa. I publicly thank him for taking this course of action and I also once more thank all of you who voted in that contest for enabling this to pass.

Best Wishes

Eric