Isaac in Real Life: December 2016

How Great Thou Art played in the matatu as Mt. Longonot came into view. The setting sun streamed in orange beams around the peak, illuminating the dust saturated sky. We climbed the escarpment, and intervening speed bumps, with the sun shining directly through the bus. My seat mate seemed amused when, in a moment of self forgetfulness, I waved to my shadow. A young couple, dancing/walking along the footpath, apparently thought it was directed at them, or maybe their enthusiastic greeting was simply due to my race. As we crawled upwards behind a struggling lorry I thought of highway robbers who take advantage of lorries' lack of power and unload the trucks as they 'drive'. We crested the top of the ridge and the valley was lost from view, but the sun still flashed in orange bursts between the trunks of the evergreen screen. The heat of the valley floor dropped with the sun, and gave way to the thin, cool air of the high plateau. Above the sunset Venus gleamed, its orange tint subtly carrying the torch of the faded day.

I dipped out of work early on a Friday afternoon, threw my stuff in the car and headed north and east to the Kerio valley. I didn't really know where I would spend the night so I figured I would drive until it started getting dark and stop somewhere. Unfortunately Wilderness is harder to find in the bush of Africa then the outskirts of LA. I turned right up a 'rough road' (the term for the mostly unimproved strips of washboard that provide the only access to many parts of the country) that led back toward the escarpment in hopes of finding somewhere to pull off. I noticed a sign saying there is a safari Lodge that direction so I figured that could be my last resort. They were very confused when I asked for a flat place to camp, but for a price were willing to provide it.

I woke up at 4:30 struck camp under the stars and headed on my way in the pre-dawn dark. I ate breakfast at a gorge where the Kerio River sliced through a basaltic dike. I was very tempted to scope out the depth of the river and jump in - it looked like a fun 50 foot drop - but it was still a bit cold and I lacked the motivation. So I headed back up the other side of the escarpment to Kabernet.

The difference in ecology and climate between the bottom of the Valley and the top was remarkable.

At the top everything was green and lush with a winding road twisting through hills and then dropping back down into the sun-scorched valley.

Here in the flat acacia scrub and the sun was so hot it was unpleasant to get out of the car.

I drove first to Lake Baringo, pulled off and biked up to an overlook. I got a thorn in my tire and had to push my bike back to the car. A crowd of children gathered to watch me patch the hole. The Lake Baringo area turned out to consist mostly of resorts and tourist traps, so I left as quickly as was feasible. I headed for Lake Bogoria despairing of ever getting beyond the reach of my constant spectators. When I arrived I found that the entrance fee was $50 for non-residents but after explaining hermetic technology to the attendants they let me in for the resident fee of $10. I was elated to finally find wild-ness.

A very aggressive ostrich.
These birds are huge and scary!

Flooding has destroyed most of the park's infrastructure and I drove the roughest road I have ever tried to traverse in the little Nissan (protip: long wheelbase and low clearance is not a trail-worthy combination). I crossed boulder fields, tried not to get high-centered, and climbed slopes so steep the car barely made it up. I eventually arrived at the hot springs about twenty kilometers in.

I looked around a bit and then went on a hunt for a campsite on my mountain bike. As I went back the way I came much of the road was even challenging as a mountain bike route. When I nearly tumbled over the handlebars on several occasions, I was amazed I'd made it that far in the car. And I did not look forward to the return trip. I found several decent campsite options before stumbling across an incredible spot overlooking the lake on the escarpment. It looked to have once been an established site, but the shelters had collapsed and it clearly hadn't been used in years. The scrub encroached on the area as well as the road, and I had to clear boulders to drive in. But sitting on a ledge, drinking tea, and listening to the two-thousand flamingos bedding down a kilometer away, it was clear the happiest I can possibly be is in the wilderness.