Osadabwa
Race Dog
Or should I say “reincarnated”?, “reimagined”? or “reawakened?” My words fail me. I’m in awe.
Born and fed on the dust, brilliance and brutality of the Baja 1000, the venerable Big Red Pig has made her way – albeit in small numbers – to Kenya, and boy are we welcoming her with open arms. We’ll never approach the madness of the Baja, nor would we necessarily want to, but a more beastly weapon we couldn’t imagine for our terrain, and we’re ready to go give her a test.
Arriving mostly unscathed from their transatlantic journey from the USA (thanks Yankee Pigheads, you really know how to farkle your toys! Maybe it's the long winters in the Midwest…) we spent 3 days tweaking and preparing for our first trip out. The number plates hadn’t arrived yet, so we stole them off our other bikes... we couldn’t wait.
Thursday, while all the unlucky mopes were stuck in traffic on their way to work, Panic and I were lighting up the XRs for their maiden voyages. We had our eye on a dry riverbed where we wanted to go play a bit. Getting there would take us down into the Great Rift Valley, below the Ngong Hills, over to Ewaso Kedong for mandazis and fuel and back along the southern flank of Mt. Suswa.
Above: The usual entry point – goat trail down to the valley
Above: Panic blasts beneath a blooming acacia
Above: Deeper in the Rift, extremely green thanks to El Nino
The performance of these bikes is astounding, particularly given their simplicity and age. Both are fitted with pumper carbs and race exhausts; they’re uncorked, fire-breathing monsters that feast on tyre rubber and petrol while hurtling you down the road like a shot from a cannon. Playing with the suspension clickers on rough terrain – baby heads, marbles and lava flows make up the bulk of the road – we had them pretty well dialled in by the time we reached the river bed. Once inside, we just let loose and sliced a dusty gap along the sandy bottom, hearing the roar of the engine reverberate off the sheer dirt flanks of the canyon.
Above: Evidence of the force of the river during the rains… a fencepost dangling in space from her wires
We ripped up the riverbed until a rubble pile in a narrow gap turned us back. They’re agile and powerful, and in a pinch we could have crossed it, but we were into having a good time not lifting pigs over rockpiles. So we blasted back down to a shady spot, had a can of tuna for lunch and climbed our way out at a disused 4x4 track that got us lost in a maze of Masai thorn fences. Miracle we didn’t puncture. Back on track, we followed our bread crumbs back down the rocky road to Najile for fuel before splatting south to Oltepesi – a lovely, fast road with one harsh rocky section to keep you honest – where the tarmac from hell appeared to take us to Olepolos for beer and roast chicken.
Above: Canyon narrows
Above: Masai fence jumping and thorn tree selfie
Above: Panic hits the only puddle in the whole valley full tilt
Above: Waiting for the kuku with Tuskers and a dusty smile
All in all, a pretty amazing first day. The bikes performed better than expected. We were now ready for a full-kit overnight ride to the Ewaso Ngiro River.