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Author Topic: 2021 - Big Red Pigs in Kenya - Season 6  (Read 1893 times)

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Offline punisher

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Re: 2021 - Big Red Pigs in Kenya - Season 6
« Reply #40 on: August 11, 2021, 08:42:52 am »
 O0 :thumleft:
just wanna have fun , and ride ... and ....... ride
 

Offline Beserker

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Re: Debut of the Nimble Pig
« Reply #41 on: August 11, 2021, 09:41:21 am »
at the moment, we’ve got 4-6 XRR riders in various states of commitment


Do you have a breeding pair  :o
My Ride  :ricky:  Angola   Namibia  Northern Cape  Kids
 

Offline Osadabwa

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Day 4 - Lake Logipi, the return!
« Reply #42 on: August 11, 2021, 05:36:50 pm »
That was a pretty decent night’s sleep. No doubt the whiskey did its part. Up and moving, we kitted up and headed for the nearest duka to stock up on water. We know from experience, it’s hot in the Suguta Valley. We left our “house” - the part of our kit that holds off-bike stuff - at the camp so we could be a tad nimbler, but you can’t skimp on water. We each had 4 litres for the day.


Above: The water spot in Nachola. How many kids do you think that village has in it if this is the small sample we managed to amass?

I’ve been in contact with the local Turkana administrator for Baragoi Ward (everyone else in the ward is Samburu, so you can imagine the politics). He’s had it up to his eyeballs with his fellow tribesmen being shot at by Samburu while they make their way to and from Baragoi and Loiyangilani, so he’s taken it upon himself to build a road linking the two trading centres that bypasses Tuum, South Horr and the kali Samburu there. It’s a brilliant move, and one that has just opened a wonderful road down to Lake Logipi, a place I tried (and failed, and nearly died of heat stroke) to reach on another epic ride in 2017. It’s worth a look: HERE’s the link. So we set off on it in the early light and were blown away.


Above: Recently graded, the road is in excellent nick, but it’s a tricky one… they were obviously not building it for high speeds… you can crest a hill and find an off-camber turn waiting for you on the other side! There was so much up and down you almost felt seasick while riding!


Above: But the views were stunning and had a totally primitive feel to them. Legitimately very few people have seen these views considering the place had no access, so we were seeing what only herders on foot see.


Above: As the track progressed, we dipped deeper into the northern end of the Suguta Valley and the heat crawled up the canyons to meet us.


Above: Some acacia were in bloom with brilliant white flowers that gave them the impression of being covered in snow


Above: The road follows a ridge in many places affording amazing views of the valley, not unlike Fish River Canyon in Namibia. Cheap cameras don’t do it justice of course.


Above: Not a shred of garbage to be seen, no homesteads, no burned trees. Not for long. Not now that there’s a road. But it’s very harsh there, so maybe it’ll take some time.


Above: We were jazzed up by the riding and the views. Even though it is a freshly graded track, it’s rough and not without seriously tricky spots. They’d get trickier on the descent to the valley floor.


Above: Beautiful. And the views are nice too.


Above: No thought has been put into what happens when it rains, so I expect this road to be in a rough state soon. All the better for us.


Above: Panic and his bike and way in the distance, cathedral rock in the middle of what looks like a totally dry Lake Logipi.


Above: Holesaw rattles over the rocks


Above: Nearing the end of the descent, the heat is upon us and the dust builds.


Above: Without the road, there’d be no biking in here


Above: Panic making good time in a feshy section


Above: Leaving a nice con-trail as he goes


Above: Wry’s cockpit view. Funky eroded formations, different coloured stone everywhere


Above: Gave me the urge to give it the berries

Eventually we were basically at valley floor level, some 250m or so above sea level. The road works had more or less fizzled out and there were only a couple of 4x4 tracks to follow. I picked one that took us through the deep sand out to the scrubby bush that colonizes the washes and rubble fields uphill of the highly variable lake shore. We stopped for a bit at a rough section of sand and stones, and I declared I’d just see if I could find a way through it. Off I went, and went, and went. It was obvious I’d found my way. I saw the road workers who waved me down (guns on shoulders, smiles on faces) and told me they’re not done with the next section yet, but I could try to ride the lake bed to the old exit track I failed to ride a few years back. That settled it. I bee-lined it for the lake shore to see what I could see.


Above: The end of the track, time to pick a line


Above: Wry on the open sand beds


Above: We stopped at a river inlet full of large stones. I decided to try to find a way through from here.


Above: Panic in Suguta Valley, shores of Lake Logipi


Above: I'll have you know I was legitimately scouting for routes up there… you know, like a meercat


Above: When I left, the other three parked up in the lee side of a massive stone wall in the shade. Apparently, they thought I’d be back soon. I was thinking, since I kept going, that they’d follow me, if only to make sure I wasn’t dead…


Above: As luck would have it, my bee-lining to the lake shore led me directly to a cluster of abandoned flamingo nests. Such an amazing find! Usually, flamingos make their funky little mud nests in ankle-deep, nasty water that deters predators. As the water receded, it left the nests high-and-dry. They looked so alien, as did everything in that place. Totally otherworldly.


Above: I was properly chuffed. I doffed my helmet and waited for the lads, elated!


Above: Meanwhile, the guys were still waiting for me to either come back or be good and dead by the time they went to find me.

To be continued...
« Last Edit: August 11, 2021, 05:45:55 pm by Osadabwa »
 

Offline Osadabwa

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Logipi continued
« Reply #43 on: August 11, 2021, 05:38:13 pm »
Eventually, I retraced my tracks through the scrub (an odd bush that gave off an acrid smell not unlike burning clutch plates or stockpiles of fertilizer in a warehouse…) and found them just on the verge of coming to my rescue. Nevermind, I had found what we were looking for, so allez! Are we riding or are we sitting in the shade?


Above: Holesaw at the shade-up, and them coming onto the plain


Above: Through the acrid smelling bushes and deep sand toward the lake bed proper


Above: Holesaw makes his appearance on the lakebed, aiming for the flamingo nests




Above: Another milestone. Another group shot.

Looking north from the flamingo nests, we had an amazing view of the totally dry lake bed, a jumble of black basalt stones on the right we dubbed the pyramid and Cathedral Rock on the left, backed up by the barrier volcano that has kept Lake Turkana from spilling into Suguta Valley for the last several eons. This was untouched territory. Helicopter tours, a few safaris, maybe a few herders, maybe the really rough 4x4 guys, but I’d wager damn few motorbikes have ridden in there. In any case, we felt like the first (and will probably claim it until proven otherwise). Our plan then was to ride carefully to make sure the lake bed was truly dry, aiming toward the pyramid, then arcing over to Cathedral Rock, the real star of the Logipi pan.


Above: Making our way along the pan, feeling for the tell-tale drag-and-slip of mud just below the surface that can really ruin your day


Above: The pyramid, getting close


Above: Cathedral Rock floating on its own mirage reflection. To the far north (right in the pic) there was some water with flamingos in it, and my previous trip had me guessing if it would be wet, it’d be wet near the Rock


Above: Panic in the pan


Above: Wry taking off with a bit of roost. Between pyramid and Cathedral Rock, we hit two small patches of black, slick mud under the surface. The surface colour changed when it was wet, so we began to navigate around on the lightest-coloured surfaces.


Above: Wry on the other side of what would have been a bike-swallowing section of mud


Above: This is the colour of dry lakebed


Above: Dry or not, the surface tugs at the wheel in places and rockets you forward in others

I was in the lead, bee-lining it for Cathedral Rock. All was going fine until I got a bit too close and then both tyres of the Pig started wandering and the engine began to labour and roar. I was riding into a huge mud field. Only thing to do is be very serious about not stopping or falling down. I kept the revvs up to throw a massive roost and keep my momentum going while I made a very polite and gentile turn back toward the others who wisely waited on dry land for my return. If I’d stopped and gotten stuck out there, I think they’d have left me to die (then Holesaw would have returned to steal my forks).


Above: Returning after my roosty loop in the mud


Above: That black stuff was very sticky indeed. All day long it would break loose and fly around the bike and me

I’d gotten close to the Rock, but not all the way. Wry led us a bit further then made one more valiant but muddy-scrambled effort to reach the not-very-distant beach under the black and gold cliffs, before we decided to give it up. Could you try for it? Yes. Could you also spend all day digging yourself out again? Also yes. We had other things to explore, so we enjoyed the view, got some pics and headed back to the edge of the lake shore. I wanted to go as far North as we could. We were 2km or so from the end of my failed track from 2017.


Above: Holesaw at the Cathedral Rock stopping point


Above: Wry on his aborted mission… As usual the pictures make you second guess the decision. But the pictures fail to show 1) distance 2) remoteness 3) depth and difficulty of that mud and 4) heat… it only takes a few stalled and stuck bikes down there to completely destroy you physically.






Above: A number of times we wished for drones and go-pros on this trip. I ordinarily don’t want to mess with it, but man it was the place to have one. So, I rode with one hand and got these pics instead. Panic on his way back to the Pyramid then up the lakeshore


Above: Wry and Holesaw exiting the gravitational pull of Cathedral Rock

The trek to the North didn’t last very long. In no time we found ourselves cracking through the top layer into black mud below. It looked vaguely possible to rattle along the stones on the shore, but again, cost benefit analysis suggested it wasn’t worth it. We’d already agreed that if there was any reason not to continue, we’d ride back and climb the pyramid. I’m really glad we did.


Above: We got into more mud than it was worth fighting… and we had two kms to go around the corner


Above: Sure, you could maybe ride on the rocks or right at the edge of the track. Maybe next time.


Above: Instead, we climbed that pyramid, a black conglomeration of stone jutting out of the lake bed like an iceberg in a vast dust sea. Good place to escape from sand worms I’d suspect.


Above: And what a view it afforded us


Above: Unlike Suguta’s dune surfing Black Cone, this hike is quite a bit easier and maybe shorter, but still afforded amazing views


Above: The basalt stone was covered in lower reaches with a mineral deposit that looked like adobe or concrete spackle. We assume it’s from eons of the lake level coming up and down, depositing minerals on the stones as it does. For all I know, this will be the last time this century the lake is dry enough to ride on it. Is it wrong of me to hope so?


Above: Wry is chuffed


Above: The bikes look like toys, and our tracks are barely visible on the sand


Above: My father and I enjoying a laugh on the Logipi Pyramid



Amazingly, Wry had a good idea. He suggested three of us hike back down, get on the bikes and do a bit of a loop away from the Pyramid while he took some pics/vids. That’s when we got this amazing shot:



And this one:


And from down below, Wry looked like a little stick figure on the Pyramid… so, like usual… but on a pyramid…



To be concluded...
 

Offline Osadabwa

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Day 4, the conclusion
« Reply #44 on: August 11, 2021, 05:39:16 pm »
We were stoked with the ride thus far, but it was time to get rolling. We had to get to Maralal before dark, and that meant saying good bye to Logipi for another year. We retraced our steps along the shore, went a bit farther down, cut in and started our climb. As Panic predicted, however, escaping from Lake Logipi would be a lot more challenging than coming in.


Above: Parting shots on the pyramid


Above: Harsh climate… not even all the flamingos make it


Above: We rolled out in the blasting afternoon sun, hoping to climb out of the heat and get to Maralal before dark


Above: The track, though very rideable, is new and consequently very soft. We spun our wheels a lot moving up and out of that place


Above: Holesaw making good time

Finally, one of us screwed the pooch. It was Wry. Instead of taking the obvious line on a deeply rutted, rocky and feshy spot, he picked the doofus line and stalled the bike. I came past him like an enduro legend, and shouted as much as I roared past him, up the hill and around the corner. Looking back, I made two errors of judgement there… for one thing, my witty shouts of “JUST LIKE JARVIS CRUSHING THE MUPPETS, HAHAHA!” fell on deaf ears as Wry was wearing ear plugs and my bike is really, really loud, and also, riding all the way up the hill was a mistake because if I was to then need to help him out, I’d have to walk all the way back down and up again… alas… I was caught in the heat of the moment.

Sure enough, after five minutes, I figured Wry needed help and slowly, painfully walked back to sort him out. What a sight… bike down, man utterly exhausted. I had to get a pic. Of course, he didn’t think that was necessary, but I document these rides warts and all. It’s for posterity. Together, we heaved the bike upright and I waddled her back down the hill to where it was a bit flatter. Just doing that and I was winded. Then, to start her back up from a flood required a few kicks, so that further winded me. I then rode her up to a flat spot as Wry was still pooped from his exertion, and that left me properly knackered.

Which is a reminder: We only get away with riding here because we go in groups of strong riders and we don’t fall down often. It’s not for amateurs. It’s hard work and you can get it wrong and have a serious problem. It was hot, but nothing like it can be, and heat stroke can bite you in the ass in no time.


Above: My shot of Wry letting his bike take a rest from a long day. A gentleman would have offered her a bit of shade…

After that little ordeal, we mostly just roared out of the valley and back to camp. I recovered after a bit and felt 100% again, but it only takes one or two more episodes like that to push you over the edge. Anyway, off we went, higher into cooler air. We stopped at the camp for lunch and just couldn’t stop talking about Logipi. It was amazing. Also, every one of us had polished off our water which means each rider needs 6L to go in and out safely, and double that or more to overnight. So there is no travelling light in there.


Above: Panic on the way back


Above: At the camp for lunch, a short rest and then onward

Because the day was not yet over! We still had a couple hours rip to Maralal from Baragoi. So, without much fanfare, we just twisted it on. The road is a screamer and we let it scream. Instead of taking the road directly to Maralal, we always go to Barsaloi to avoid a known bandit corridor… but this time it almost felt like we’d made the wrong choice. Samburu (again) boys and morani were along the road in several places and all of them had guns. Two smaller boys stopped waving and started shouting and pretending to grab stones to throw at us and one very tall guy was right smack in the middle of the road with his AK in his hand above his head… I didn’t know what that meant, so I throttled on and rode straight at him, standing and raising my fist as well like a salute. Eish… it felt good to leave them in the dust.


Above: That’s a fast section you can be sure. And no, Pigs don’t feel those corrugations.


Above: The track is in great nick and gorgeous


Above: Within view of Barsaloi and the Milgis, and hence our road up to Maralal, I could see ominous clouds forming


Above: I consulted with the funky green spikes and they confirmed it, yep, it’s gonna rain on you boys


Above: Having turned at Barsaloi, we were headed right for it. If you haven’t been in a desert when the rain is coming, make sure to do so. That smell is unforgettable. It made us ride faster toward our certain soaking


Above: Gloomier and gloomier


Above: At last, proper rain. We got soaked, and it was cold, but we were within a stone’s throw of our hotel, so spirits were high. Lucky we were on bikes too because construction crews had made this road impassable by car


Above: Wry in the wrain

Arriving in Maralal, we had to find the Ngari Hills Hotel. Wry kept asking how to spell it and I was getting furious with him because you can never tell if he’s being serious or not.

Him: What’s the name of the lodge?
Me: Ngari Hills
Him: “Um, is it M like Mombasa?
Me: No, it’s N.
Him: “Say it Phonetically for me…”
Me: N, N, fakking ENNNNNN! you asshole, I already told you!
Him: Fine, so is it just hotel N, or is there more to it?
Me: Wry, I’m going to strangle you! Screw this, I’m going to town to ask.

Ugh, it was insane. Eventually we grabbed a boda and he showed us the way. The place was high on a hill (there) as promised and afforded nice views down to the quite large Maralal town. We showered up and met at the bar for a true celebration. The ride had been amazing. We’d covered a lot of ground in a short time and seen some new and incredible places. The next day we’d all tarmac it back to Nairobi, so from our point of view, the ride was over and it had been great!


Above: Aw, but I was so looking forward to it!


Above: Holesaw enjoying the view


Above: Lovely place, Ngari Hills… weird, but lovely


Above: Parting shot.

As usual, it was a great ride boys. Lobo, sorry you couldn’t finish it with us, but there will be other rides!

Until the next one.

 :snorting:


 

Offline Goingnowherekwickly

Re: 2021 - Big Red Pigs in Kenya - Season 6
« Reply #45 on: August 11, 2021, 10:39:08 pm »
Man, what an epic trip!!!
Thanks so much for sharing, I'm sure there are a bunch of very jealous, and frustrated riders living this vicariously, myself included.
Top Notch, as always, Well done, what an adventure!!!!
 

Offline Osadabwa

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Logipi update and out-takes
« Reply #46 on: September 04, 2021, 01:36:18 pm »
Many days since returning from Logipi, I’m still thinking about it. Then a poor unfortunate soul who was unable to join us on the ride sent through the following pic:


Above: Our tracks spotted by a helicopter tour operator. I think this is my failed attempt to reach Cathedral Rock… as soon as the mud got sticky, I started making a very smooth, very ginger turn back the way I came. I guess those guys will have to get used to sharing the Valley a bit more than they’re used to, but it’s not like it’s visited often by bikers, the track will vanish after the next rain and for all we know we’ll have mega rains and the lake will fill up for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, since I was uploading pics, I thought I’d put a few more in there to make the other guys look like doofuses.


Above: Wry is actually part insect. Freakish thing, is our Wry.


Above: First thing Holesaw does when he sees the majestic spectacle of the flamingo nests… pretends to drop a deuce in one


Above: A nice example of how NOT to climb out of a rocky place… legs flailing like a GS rider leaving a gravel parking lot


Above: Panic practicing the look he’ll give me if I take us on the wrong track in the heat and the thorns


Above: Wry got confused for a bit… thought his XRR was a Lil’ Push balance bike or something. Feet on the pegs, you noob!

That’s it. Cheers everyone.

 

Offline Osadabwa

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2021 August in Asturias on the Vespa
« Reply #47 on: September 06, 2021, 06:17:14 pm »
After skipping a year due to Covid-19, it was time to revisit the in-laws in Northern Spain. Asturias, to be exact, a lovely region to ride a motorbike in… if the sun is shining. Fortunately for me, I do have a motorbike and the sun was shining! Happy days! To the mountains then!


Above: My lady, the angry hornet… or perhaps the grumpy gnat. 1999 Vespa 125 in Furia Roja Red. Formerly a Spanish mail delivery bike (originally painted bright yellow with a massive box on the back), it was made in either Spain or Italy (so it’s solid, not like those from India) and had some fancy features for a bike that looks vintage Vespa. First, it has e-start, which I disconnected (starts first kick and the battery added weight), second it has auto-oil delivery, which I disconnected (I absolutely flog this thing and want to be able to go above a bit on the oil), and third it has a disk brake which I absolutely did not disconnect (unlike most Vespas, this baby can stop!). I also added 50cc or so by way of a longer cylinder and con rod setup, and a few HP (small horses) and decibels via a sneaky little exhaust pipe, so she fairly flies (when on flat terrain or going downhill, 100kph is yours for the taking).

But, it wasn’t easy getting the girl on the road this year. First of all, she lives with my buddy who had taken her to Nueva, his summer place near the sea. Secondly, her ITV was expired (… a seriously annoying thing about the “First World” is all the rules… the ITV is a biannual road worthiness thing). Thirdly, this holiday was fraught with family stuff and I was basically a chauffeur… but eventually the guys helped me go get her and I decided to skip the ITV. After all, nobody expects a Vespa rider to be breaking rules, right?


Above: Caito’s Blue 1967 GS 208cc… I love that bike, more character than an old sailor and faster than (almost) any scooter around and most big bikes too in the curves. I like the rat finish patina as well…

Asturias has the weather of Ireland, not of Sevilla or Madrid. So, while most of Spain was melting at 40C, we were thrilled to have sunshine and 25C days. Finally out on two wheels, I filled the tank with fuel and oil and the glovebox with chips and a beer. I was off for my favourite day ride. Truth is, I never really know how to get there. Outside Oviedo the roads just wind up and down and all over the place. The road signs are unhelpful at best because you always have to know the name of the next village along in order to know if you’re going the right way. So, I wing it, and eventually see familiar landmarks.


Above: From Las Caldas, climbing up past Proaza over a long shortcut I like to take that passes Las Xanas I hook a right and start really climbing. Even my short-range gearbox (remember, she was meant for delivering mail, not mountain climbing) and extra 50cc was struggling to keep me in top gear up the hills most of the time. But climb we did. And we climbed and climbed and climbed.


Above: Red and green go well together, no? This is hilarious because I took almost the exact same photo a few years ago: See here: LINK

At last I reached the tippy-top. It’s a place I like because it’s got 360 Degree views and you have to ride a bit of dirt to get there (after all, I’m a Pig rider at heart and always want a bit of dirt regardless of the bike). By a bit of dirt, in this case I mean about 50 meters… and it’s rough, slow going on the little Vespa I assure you, but we make it. I pop open the glove box, grab my snacks and settle in, leaning on the fender, to enjoy the view.


Above: See what I mean about 360 views?


Above: Cheers all, and relax, it’s just a lil’ cervecita, nothing out of the ordinary for Spain
From the top of the climb I bee-lined it back to Oviedo to Caito’s, dumped the bike in his workshop and spent another week with the family at the beach. Sandcastles, sun, swimming, jogging etc behind me, a week later I was back on the bike!

And this time I took her for a proper ride. I dropped the rental car at the station at 11AM and walked to Caito’s with my helmet in hand. Out the door I went with some vague idea to reach some pass or other up in the hills. So off I went, buzzing up the valleys and over the ridges. The scenery is very unique, at least to me, so I kept stopping to enjoy it… and by enjoy it I mean take pics of my Vespa on the roadside.


Above: What a beauty… she makes the scenery better I think

Eventually I ended up on a route leading to Puerto San Llaurienzu which was deceptively steep. My little gal could not do it in top gear… I would hold her wide open in 3rd and upshift only to be told… not so fast, little man, I’m not your Piggy… You rack disciprine! You must exercise patience! So we buzzed and whirred up to the pass where I pulled in for a little snack.


Above: Right near the pass pull-out (where I watched BMW GSs and Honda Gold Wings come and go… like so many fat, happy cows) there were cattle and horses grazing unattended. Then I saw the shepherds… dogs that is… massive ones at that, with matted fur looking like proper beasts… squatting over bushes to shit… I’ve been warned not to confuse these guys with somebody’s porch pissing puppy and gave them their space and made damn sure not to aggravate any of their charges!


Above: The local fauna… big shepherd dog and a horse on the Right… lovely little Vespa de Correos on the Left


Above: Went for a little walk (most of the dirt tracks in Asturias are off-limits to vehicles and you can get a proper fine if you mess around) up the hill to catch a different view away from the Beluga Bike crowd (two GSs and a Goldwing… honestly, I understand the Goldwing more… at least it’s not pretending to be adventurous) and have some chips and a beer under a tree in peace.

After my little pit-stop, I decided to backtrack a scoot to fuel up. I wanted to keep going, but with a small tank and a surprising shortage of fuel stations in small villages up here, I couldn’t risk it (been there before… ran out of gas on the border with Leon once...) So, I set my sights on a new road and took off. More lovely little single-lane tar roads with amazing views were the result.


Above: Little roads in the mountains


Above: Some haystacks in a style many centuries old stacked up out there. Pretty rare these days.

At some point, I ended up on a smaller than usual little track. It was tar, but pretty broken up in places. I was heading down and enjoying swerving around the holes and hearing the grind of gravel beneath my impossibly small and inappropriate tyres. Up ahead, I noticed a helmet coming my way. Another biker! I figured I’d better move well over in case he was ripping along. Nope, far from it! It was a BMW poster child on his 800GS (I think, they all look the same to me), all kitted out with the gear and crash bars and BMW panniers and absolutely crawling around the corner in the full attack position, probably thinking “Okay, keep your elbows bent, butt off the seat, bend your knees but not too much! Be ready for anything! Oh here comes another pothole! Whooo! I made it!” I chuckled, waved and ring-ding-dinged past him… man BMW has done well. And by done well, I mean perpetrated the perfect crime by convincing people they need those bikes.


Above: Heading down to Grado after a lovely day

Back in Oviedo after over 150km hunchbacking it on the Vespa, it was time for my despedida. I spluttered back to Caito’s workshop and we went straight for the bars. A group of other Vesperos showed up and before we knew it the beers and sidra were flowing. Because the guys know everybody in the city, half the drinks were on the house, which only made us order more. Night came and I stumbled home sideways and awoke with a tidy little headache.

Following day or two, after needing to change my plane ticket due to Covid PCR test delay shenanigans, I returned to the workshop and Caito helped me with a plan I hatched ages ago. I want a GPS on my Vespa. I never know where I am and I enjoy exploring small roads, so it’s a must... especially with the small range I have. Now that I have a proper smartphone holder, a mount was needed. The Vespa has a couple of perfect mounting points where the right-hand mirror would go, so we cut a thick piece of steel and I mounted the RAM mount and Hondo Garage Perfect Squeeze and voila! When I get back in a year, I’ll be sorted!


Above: Caito getting busy with the grinder. He first mocked up a test with some sexy, thin steel but it wasn’t up to the task. Needed more girth!


Above: Clearly, this isn’t Panic’s garage… a difference of styles for sure, but the essence is the same.


Above: The final product! My huge 10,000mAh DooGee S88Plus smartphone mounted with the Perfect Squeeze on my Vespa. Come 2022, I’ll be loving it! Unless the Greek alphabet song of Covid variants doesn’t ruin the plan!

Colorin colorado, esta historia se ha acabado!

Fin.



 

Offline dirt rat

Re: 2021 - Big Red Pigs in Kenya - Season 6
« Reply #48 on: September 07, 2021, 07:34:38 am »
Real riding -real fun - love these reports - thanks for sharing