Ambling in Africa: February 2026

Lake Turkana & the Chalbi Desert

On an admittedly long bucket list, I have long lusted over the chance to cross Kenya's Northern desert on a motorcycle. Undaunted by a relatively long list of associated challenges and not dissuaded after a failed first attempt on a 650 BMW a few years ago, it was time to try it once more! How difficult can it be?

A few things to consider....

* It's hot enough to cook without a fire

* It's bandit country and considered unsafe

* Elephants and Lions are roaming through the area

* Riding in sand is super tricky

* The roads are rough and punishing on both machine and rider

* Fuel is hard to come by and purveyors unreliable

* It's hard on tires

* Google is of no use in this remote area and roads are not obvious

* Accommodations are tricky to find so camping gear and protein bars are a "must carry".

* Lastly and most importantly I couldn't think of or imagine anyone crazy enough to join me for the ride.

That's when I thought about asking my good friend and climbing partner Chris who just happened to have a light 200cc Honda that was perfect for the trip! He might just be that crazy!

"Hey buddy!" the conversation began, "let's say you and me ride 1200 Kms up to and across the bandit infested remote reaches of the Chalbi Desert on motorcycles?" "Sounds like a plan" came Chris' always calm and carefully considered response. "When do we start!?!

Naturally some planning was in order. Spare tire tubes (more on that later) spare brake - accelerator and clutch cables, spare fuel containers, lots or nuts and bolts bailing wire and of course nylon wrap ties.

Now Chris came to riding later in life and has been steadfastly committed to getting the most out of the experience. Over the past few years I've seen him go from amateur to fully capable rider. In addition, he is calm, thoughtful and tough as nails. We've been in a few tough spots over the years and while I sat weeping -- he just gets on with the task. The perfect guy to have along for a desert crossing I'd say.

PAT - The unlikely and mostly unwilling desert crossing co-conspirator

Early in PAT's Metamorphosis

I'd be riding PAT (an acronym for Pseudo Africa Twin). My long coveted actual Honda Africa Twin is among or perhaps is -- the finest Adventure bike ever built. I -- however, of somewhat limited means, have always found the Africa Twin slightly out of reach financially. Rather, I resurrected this tired aging cheap knockoff -- paying the princely sum of $300 for this 2-wheeled derelict. Maybe someday I'll pay the $30000 for the Twin -- though I think it unlikely being the cheap bastard I am😀.

A brief history of PAT -- bought as a wrecked bike, I slowly and with very limited skill rebuilt the old girl from the basic frame to a complete motorcycle with a few small upgrades. It was -- in the most generous of terms, "a budget conscious exercise" and with very little encouragement from my loving wife Essie. Once fully disassembled, her comment was "that thing is doomed and will never see another stretch of road ."

Despite -- or perhaps in spite of Essie's dire predictions, PAT eventually fired to life and reluctantly moved down the road on her own volition. There were, after all, a surprising number of parts that didn't seem to fit anywhere, and a whole lot more wires than one would expect that remained disconnected!

PAT looking hopeful and starting to show some promise of ever running again.

PAT gets a donated brand new and bigger engine!!

PAT emerges, a truly magnificent bastard -- somewhat capable of conquering the African back country!

DAY 1: Nairobi to Nyahururu

PAT & I left Nairobi early to meet up with Chris who was leaving from a small town near the Ugandan border. He sensibly chose not to name his motorcycle. -- a mature choice not lost on me. Chris shredded a sprocket on route causing a bit of a delay and not augering well for a trouble-free trip. PAT & I took the twisty route through Thika enjoying a relaxed pace and fantastic scenery as I approached the West side of Mount Kenya.

We were both making for the rendezvous point at a place called Nyahururu. According to my good friend Douglas, the name of the town is an onomatopoeia derived from the sound of the tumbling Thompson Falls. We had an excellent stay at the Thompson Falls Lodge right beside the actual falls and enjoyed those soothing sounds. We paid 12000 KES/ 120 CAD for a 2 bedroom suite with a fabulous buffet dinner & breakfast included.

DAY 2: Nyahururu to Baragoi

Breakfast done and thermoses filled with nice hot coffee, we mounted up only to find that Chris had a puncture. Again - an auspicious start to this crazy adventure. We got enough air into the tire to limp to a repair place a couple kms away. With very little fuss the highly skilled motorcycle puncture repair guy completed the task and we were back on the road. The tarmac ended after about 3 hours in a place called Maralal and the road virtually disintegrated after that.

There was no traffic (save one bus near a collection of huts), the tire tracks disappeared, washouts became common events and the road became less and less welcoming. Sincere doubts were discussed during the frequent water stops with the temperatures soaring into the high 30's. Google - however - continued to show this as the route. The scenery was scrub brush and more or less flat - traveling along at about 20kms an hour. On a number of occasions I looked enviously over at Chris dressed in a tan riding outfit rather than the black one I had chosen. Why would a guy wear black to the desert. Duh! Regardless & later - we found out that there was a much much easier road that had been built for the wind farm.We also learned that road we took was considered to be insecure and dangerous. Who knew??

Eventually we made Baragoi - found a place with cold beer, food and beds -- and called it a night. We stayed at the Bonsella Gardens where the host Jacob, was extremely accommodating. The room cost 2500 KES/$25 CAD and included dinner and breakfast. Chris had lost an important bolt along the way - though luckily there was a small store nearby and a suitable bolt was found and installed.

DAY 3: Baragoi to Loiyangalani

A quick breakfast and with the ubiquitous coffee thermoses filled to the brim, we set out early for the next destination wherever that may be. Fuel was now a concern so we filled the bikes and spare containers at one of the 2 stations in town. The Guest House Manager warned of high temps that made the Elephants and Lions cranky along the way. Strangely we were both hopeful that we would come across some of these cranky yet wonderful creatures. While there was plenty of evidence (like mounds and mounds of evidence) we were not lucky in this regard on this day.

Luck however, came in another form. In the early morning light we rode into one of the most beautiful landscapes I have witnessed. I suspect it's not just the view - but also the context that intensifies the experience. We worked our way up a nondescript road/ trail and up over a a small hill. As we crested the hill, we both kicked down our bike stands and quietly took in the view. Before us was this great expanse punctuated with Acacia trees and great large grey bounders. In the distance, perhaps 10 kms away, blue rolling hills beckoned. The air was still, smelling slightly sweet and a peaceful quiet descended upon us both. A fine moment worthy the efforts so far.

The more challenging part of this day was yet to come. We made our way down the the town of South Horr, ostensibly a big sand box that stretches along beside a river dried up this time of year. Like an oasis there were trees here that provided some relief from the heat currently set on medium high. As amused camels looked on I struggled with the sand - PAT wanting to go off route in an attempt to escape this crazy journey. Again and again the bike would slew left or right as if possessed by some devious anti-adventure spirit. I suspect Chris' bike was possessed by a similar demon but we eventually made it through the 10kms of sand.

I am not a fan of sand and have never conquered my fear of falling. According to my friend Morton with whom I have ridden sand previously, you simply lean back - hit the throttle and steer with your bum.

With my bum in no mood for driving and with PAT looking for an escape route -- it was damned hard work.

As the heat continued to rise we reached the edge of Lake Turkana or the "Jade Sea" as it is colloquially known. The Lake is beautiful & famous (at least from my perspective) for 3 things.

Firstly, it is the location of a massive wind/ electric generation project that contributes significantly to Kenya's remarkable 93% renewable energy program. The 93% is even more remarkable given that they rely predominantly on wind and Geo-thermal with solar remaining largely untapped. Lake Turkana Wind Power is Africa's largest wind farm boasting 365 turbines! It's quite a sight to witness as you bump into it rather suddenly and seemingly in the middle of nowhere!

Secondly, Lake Turkana is the world's largest desert lake sufficiently large that it creates it's own weather. In particular -- wind -- and plenty of it (more on that later). It also features a volcano within the lake and enough crocodiles to make even Indiana Jones reconsider going for a swim. Chris considered a swim (given the intense heat) but luckily chose not to dip. The news of Crocs came to us later in the trip - and as they say -- timing is everything.

Lastly, my recent interest in anthropology intersected well with Lake Turkana being the location where Turkana Boy was discovered in 1984. Like a lost jigsaw puzzle piece finally found, the discovery of the 1.5 million year old Homo Erectus skeleton led to a huge leap in understanding of the evolution of early humans. The Turkana Institute does a great job explaining the significance of the discovery. Later that evening, I stared up at a million stars and thought about that. Millions of years ago the view would have been pretty much the same. However, in the words of Woody Allen - "Today I saw a red and yellow sunset and thought how insignificant I am - but I thought that yesterday as well and it rained." 😁

We came down the hill into the Turkana Lake basin and followed the "road" along it's banks. It really is not a road - merely an indication of where to go over a boulder field. This is where we had the first fall of the trip. Chris went down heavily and while he shook it off in his inimitable steadfast manner I suspected cracked ribs and a whole lot of discomfort.

Unfortunately it was about to get worse as 30 minutes later the rear wheel tire valve was completely sheered off. The only solution was a tube replacement and we opted for me to run into to the next town (3kms away) and see if there was a "Fundi" (Kenyan repair person) available.

I suspect it was about 40C and we were out of water at this point. There was a small tree nearby mercifully providing a bit of shade. The Fundi came, the tire was repaired, and we rode into Loiyangalani relatively intact though thirsty, hot and exhausted.

Our previous Guest House Manager Jacob and a helpful friend Thomas had recommended the Catholic Guest house for the stay in Loiyangalani. It was hard to find, likely was alcohol free and may or may not be open. Imagine our surprise when they had rooms, a pool and ice cold beer. Woop woop! If there is a heaven it is at or near the Catholic guest house in Loiyangalani.

Despite the pool having a dead mouse and a floating insect collection that would make any entomologist giddy - it was a fabulous moment drinking that beer in the pool. The rooms were fine as was the Turkana Lake fish dinner and breakfast. 2500 KES/$25 CAD was the sum for room dinner and breaky.

DAY 4: Loiyangalani to Laisamis

Today is the day to cross the desert and I woke thinking about how that could go so wrong if we mess up. We had learned that there was fast road that would be easier but more importantly with other travelers in case something went wrong. Firstly however, was to get out of the Lake Turkana basin and given unexpected gale force winds -- this was going to be tricky.

I went down hard 15 minutes along the road. It was not clear to me what happened but suddenly I was on the ground and the wind was howling. Chris caught up pretty fast and we got PAT rubber side down. It was so windy I couldn't tell if the engine was running or not. 15 minutes later I went down a second time very hard this time. The wind hit me so hard that it lifted both Pat and I up and right off the road. Chris struggled to get to me and once he did - was unable to leave his motorcycle as it would blow over. Doubled over I made my way back to him and dug a hole on the kickstand side so that we could get the bike leaned over against the wind. Over the wind we tried to shouting to communicate but even that was completely ineffective. Meanwhile my bike was wheels up and precious fuel draining from the tank. We could barely stand but managed to get over to PAT and get me back on her. I admit to being scared. The wind was terrifying and is was nearly impossible to maneuver through the boulders. It was another hour of carefully making our way along the lake shore before finally we climbed up out of the basin. There -- the wind was gone, the sun shining brightly and the past couple hours incongruous by comparison.

We found fuel - eventually - and found the road to Laisamis - eventually - but it was challenging. The area was patrolled by military and wind farm company security teams roving about in Land Cruisers. It's usually best to avoid those dudes as they are armed, often surly and underpaid. Information may come at a very steep price.

"Look for the abandoned air strip on your left and then take the next left after that" were the directions from the fuel station attendant. "It's by the dispensary". If not for those last 4 cryptic words, we would not have found the road we were looking for. There were in fact numerous roads/ trails going to the left that could have been the right one and Google no assistance this time.

That said - we then set out on a bad road for the next 4 hours averaging 15 kms per hour and hoping it was the right way. The sun shone without mercy and there was no shade anywhere. Acacia thorns were scattered everywhere - a motorcyclists worst nightmare..

Then SAND!!! and lots of it. As we dodged camels and tried bum steering our way through, we worried about the little remaining daylight. We both carried tents and it was looking more and more likely that that was going to be how the day ended.

Suddenly we were on brand new pavement that took us the final 15 Kms into Laisamis. We pulled into the Oasis Hotel where we paid 1000KES/ $10 CAD for dinner and a room. Given that Laisamis is predominantly Muslim, we got cold beer but had to smuggle it back to our rooms and ensure there was no one watching us enjoy those lovely cold frothy bevies.

DAY 5: Laisamis to Nairobi

While the Oasis was great value at $10 a night it was not exactly the Marriott so we left early and opted for breakfast in the much larger town of Isiolo a couple hours down the road. It was a wise choice as both breakfast and the ride trough the southern part of the desert were delicious. In was early morning light, the hills were bold and majestic with animals everywhere. Dik diks Gazelles Antelope, Zebra and a bunch of critters I don't know the names of - scurried along and across the early morning deserted road. Not learning from previous experiences with bees - I had my visor open and hit a small swarm. Only 5 got into my helmet and stung me so counting myself as lucky Doh!

Chris & I separated in a town called Nanyuki with Pat &I going South and he West. For the record - I fell twice and Chis only once - a remarkable achievement for a guy relatively new to the sport - or - I have some work to do on my riding skills 😀

PAT made the 1200 km trip without incident, carrying me along through a fantastic adventure. As a guy who has owned a ridden quite a number of motorcycles, I have to admit that the joy comes not necessarily from the engine size and motorcycle brand, but on the riders' willingness to seek out adventure and accept that there will be some adversity along the way.

Charley Boorman and Ewan McGregor - if you know you know.

CHARITY

In addition to adventure - over the past 10 years I have made a small contribution to Malezi school in the Majengo area of Eastleigh, Nairobi. Below is a clickable video from my last visit explaining the work and chatting with a couple students about their experiences at Malezi school. If you have a couple extra shekels you'd like to share - below is how you can get it to me.