Category Archives: MTB

First few days in Kenya

I’ve been in Kenya for three days now & it’s been a reasonably relaxing few days, but with a few little things worth talking about. Also, if I do little spurts of story-telling, it won’t be as tedious (for both reader & writer) to read as one big narrative. A reasonable enough nine hour flight straight through to Nairobi – but I don’t particularly recommend Virgin Atlantic (they don’t stop talking over the PA, the check-in is a nightmare, the entertainment is not on-demand [so if you miss the start of the movies every two and a half hours, you have to wait another two and a half hours] & the food is poor – I think I’ve been spoiled by Air NZ). But we did land early & I was through buying a visa, collecting my luggage & convincing customs that my bike was two years old (& therefore of no interest to them & their duty) before Adrian could get to the airport. As it was nine-thirty on a Sunday morning, the traffic driving northeast through Nairobi was sparse – but still the typical crazy one expects from a big third world city.

We stopped off on the way home at quite a western cafe (WiFi if I wanted it) for breakfast & continued the catch up. Adrian has been in Kenya for about a year and a half & is working for an organisation that arranges volunteers to come over & do work on various projects around East Africa (very busy, but by all accounts better than selling automatic sliding doors to shops in Auckland). Thankfully, ACTS is based a bit out of the city & it wasn’t too long before we were at the house where Adrian lives with a workmate & a couple of guys who work for a similar organisation (GC) – the house also has accommodation for some of the volunteers. It’s a good arrangement with the few permanent tenants (ACTS & GC rent it) & a stream of other expats staying for a little while or longer. I haven’t quite worked out the history of the house, but it must be thirty or forty years old & I like to think maybe it was at the centre of a tea plantation. It’s quite a large house (I think the lounge is almost bigger than the flat where I am staying in London) & comes complete with a great staff – there’s always a guard at the gate (three at night), the maid comes in everyday (I’m not really used to my bed being made every day) & a gardener who has got the grounds in immaculate condition. It’s all a little strange & takes a while to get used to. It’s still quite odd that the internet here in Kenya is so much faster than what we had back in NZ.

After meeting a few housemates over (their) lunch at Brackenhurst (the nearby compound where the ACTS offices are), it was back to the house & I somehow got motivated to put my bike together. That afternoon Adrian took me on his running loop (I rode of course) that goes around Brackenhurst & through a lot of tea fields.

Embarrassingly, no sooner had we got out the gate & Adrian veered off around the corner on a dirt track & I followed around on the grass, I put my front wheel in a big unseen hole & went straight over the bars – only damage was to my pride & a bit of a bruise on my thigh. I had never seen tea fields up close & was surprised to see how well established the little bushes were – for some reason I though that tea plants would be ones that are replaced every season or so.

We were riding/running on dirt roads & tracks between the tea fields & it made for some good riding – unfortunately the hills quickly showed me up as being very hungry, tired, jet-lagged & most of all, quite out of shape.

The downhills were a blast though (but one did have to be mindful of people walking up the opposite way) & I worked out that the hundreds of speed bumps everywhere aren’t so bad on a bike – they are pretty horrendous in Adrian’s short wheel base Suzuki (it brings back a lot of memories – it was one of these that I learnt to drive in). Adrian has been introducing his housemates to Flight of the Conchords so a fair few episodes were watched that night before a rather long sleep for me.

I’ve had to run away to the cool inside (thick stone walls & floors do have their advantages) as it’s too hot sitting in the shade on the balcony. Monday was a pretty lazy day for me – nice sleep-in, sorted out my stuff a bit, watched the first half of NZ’s innings in the third ODI against Pakistan, went for another ride around the same loop (knocked twenty minutes off the time) & then went out for dinner to see Inglorious Basterds with Joe & Nick. The roads are little bit easier to handle in long wheel-based Prado.

I was up well too early on Tuesday, as Adrian’s work & house mate Carmen had organised for me to go in to a school in a slum in Nairobi with a couple of their volunteers. Jeff & Christina (from Montreal) had been to the school the previous week & in the meantime bought a whole lot of school supplies to give to the children & teachers. I wasn’t too sure where the slum was, but it turned out to be near the airport as the big jets were coming in to land over the corrugated iron shacks. We had a later than intended start after two flat tyres on the ACTS van, but even so the trip took three times as long through the traffic as it did on Sunday. Naturally, as we got further in to the slum the squalour increased & the roads deteriorated – it was all pretty horrendous & looking out of the van on the drive reminded me of Nepal (except the skin colour is darker & there is a lot more English around).

The head teacher was particularly pleased to have visitors & I was the only new visitor I was paraded through each class; upon our entrance all the students (the classes ranged from about four to eleven years old) would stand & then burst in to a welcome song, the students would introduce themselves in turn & then I would introduce myself.

It was all very cute (they do love to sing). After we had distributed all the gifts & there were an awful lot of speeches & singing & dancing the kids went back to their homes for however much lunch they could get. After lunch I somehow found myself alone in front of a blackboard trying to teach ten year olds how to convert from metres to kilometres and vice versa. As I always suspected, there is a good reason I’m not a teacher – it was just as well the content was pretty easy & they all seemed to know what there were doing. I slowly managed to get hold of writing on the blackboard & avoiding the potholes in the concrete floor without falling over. Hopefully that is the end of my teaching career, as interesting as it was.

Yesterday I finished the book that I had picked up the day previous. It was a well thumbed copy of Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, I’m not sure where I had heard of it before, but was pretty certain that I had. It gave a fascinating insight it why America is so disliked around the world. This guy’s job, in a nutshell, was to go to developing countries & provide very inflated & unsubstantiated economic forecasts of what their country could do with new infrastructure, convince them to borrow the money needed to develop the infrastructure from the World Bank or IMF or such-like, spend all the borrowed money on American firms to build the infrastructure & then when the forecasts didn’t prove quite right they are saddled with billions of dollars of debt & in America’s pocket when needed for oil, votes at the UN, military bases & so on. That’s my very quick summary, but it was a very interesting book.

Carmen is taking me to another project this afternoon, but I have no idea what….

Ipswich, Canterbury & the most cyclists I have ever seen at once

It’s been most of September since I got back from Edinburgh, so I must have a few little trips & events to write about. Hopefully the blog editor behaves itself this time. I’ve now worked out how to work around the annoying changes to Blogger – apologies to those that receive this twice.

A day or so after I got back I was off to Ipswich for a long weekend staying with Te Puke & Palmy friends – Louis & Emma. They have been in the UK for a little over a year & seem to be quite enjoying living in Ipswich. It was great to catch up – & quite like I remember flatting: generally eating, watching sport & a bit of mountain biking. Louis & I loaded the two bikes (it’s good to know bikes can fit in Micras with the seats down) & set off north-east for Thetford forest. My first singletrack in the UK this visit. I see now why Suffolk is known for being flat – we didn’t exactly have a lot of climbing to do. There were four different trails, apparently of varying difficulty, & we did the two “hardest” ones. It was great to be out riding in the forest & there were plenty of people out & about (but not too many on the tracks). We managed to occupy ourselves for three hours & Louis did heroically when the seat on his borrowed bike worked the bolt loose & kept tilting up at the front. There were some nice little bits of flowing singletrack, but these were few & far between & generally the trails seemed poorly designed. I got quite excited when I saw these signs –

– warning of almost certain death, but in the end it was less challenging than the Diamondback/Dipper in the Redwoods & one small part of it was quite fun. Nonetheless, it was great being out & I more than happy to go out for some doubletrack around some woods closer to Ipswich on Sunday afternoon.

The two weeks since then have been spent organising things, brief bike rides (two hours) locally & the odd trip in to London to see sights (National Gallery & Portrait Gallery were very good – must go back to see the majority of exhibits that I didn’t have time for; back to the Imperial War Museum; really enjoyed poking around Campden Markets & wishing I had a budget that extended a bit further) & friends.

Two weekends ago was a big family get together for Trish’s (the second cousin I’m staying with) birthday. It was great to catch up with quite a few people – most of whom I had met last year. I have since seen photos of our trip in 1987 to the UK that I have not seen before – the infamous Renault 11 makes an appearance & I was a lot cuter.

Saturday last, Trish & I took a pleasant little day trip to Canterbury (a certain line from The [real] Office keeps coming to mind). After lunch, we took a look around the Cathedral (didn’t see Blackadder around or Baldrick trying to sell dubious relics). In some respects it was another great big cathedral (more of which I’m sure I will see) – but I was surprised at how it kept on going, it was a lot larger than I expected on first sight. Afterwards we took a stroll along the river in part, & then around a lot of the old walls of the city. It was warm close day & there were plenty of people out enjoying the weather & I was surprised at how many teenagers & students were around.

Yesterday was the Mayor of London’s Skyride. For six hours in the middle of the day, a loop was closed off that went from Tower Bridge, along the Embankment to Trafalgar Square & down The Mall to Buckingham Palace. Coming back the other half of the loop split off & took in St Paul’s. I biked from home in Sidcup & met up with a small group three and a half miles down the road. From there we set off for Greenwich & met up with hundreds of others. Biking from there & over Tower Bridge it started to get chaotic with so many on bikes taking over the roads. It was great joining (as it turned out) sixty-five thousand other cyclists in the city on what was a beautiful day. Of course, it was rather congested & slow going – but no one seemed to find as there were bikes everywhere, not cars, taxis & murderous buses. A great range of bikes on display – fixies, roadies, a few mountain-bikes, town/city bikes, unicycles, penny-farthings, even a pedal-powered piano, clown bikes & best of all – kids everywhere on little bikes, trailing bikes having a ball. Six hours & thirty-odd miles later, I was pleased to make it home exhausted.

Just Outstanding

Another deep sleep after yesterday’s exertions (& not quite as chilly) & I awoke when the dogs were let off at about half past six. Another great meal from Sam – a lot of French toast with a nice dash of cinnamon & other goodies. Decamped & loaded the truck with bikes (I had to borrow a spare Juicy 7 from Bill, my brakes were still faded & it wasn’t the pads) & we all drove in to Kernville & gassed up (running short on gas was a bit of a theme for the weekend). On the way saw my first American bush fire – a spotter plane, chopper with monsoon bucket, countless fire engines (Forestry Service, Bureau of Land Management, Kern Valley Fire Dept & who knows how many other agencies) & a troop of kitted up firefighters crossing the river & hauling a lot of weight up the hill side. It seemed to be relatively out of control – I didn’t get burnt.

From the west shore of Lake Isabella, we drove up to the top of the ridge & past a skifield (it’s strange seeing an off season ski field surrounded by pines – back home it’s usually all rocks), found the trailhead, & left for the lake. With different front brakes I was somewhat tentative hauling in to more great corners, & Irmina was similar with pretty poor rear brakes. Still it was another great trail – more dirt (& therefore more dust – one had to keep quite a distance behind the previous bike to facilitate useful vision) & nice corners & yet more cases of the trail suddenly turning to rocks. It was mostly in trees, so no great vistas – but did get in to this very cool tunnel of overgrown junipers (“I say, those are my juniper bushes”).

Shortly afterwards, we hit another good climb (what is with these climbs when you are going down a hill??) – well practised & not at such an altitude, it was another good middlering grind. I emerged on to a fire road & waited for the others. Apparently we were to follow the fire road down a while & then head in to the trail again. Much to our disappointment we never found the trail again & after riding up hill for a mile or so, trying to find it, had had enough of the sun so we blasted all the way back down to the lake & met Sam. As this was almost the end of our weekend together we got all our belongings in the correct vehicles & headed back to Kernville for a great last meal at some cafe (Sam got out of cooking this time).

Saying goodbyes the others headed back to LA & struggled on very tired north a couple of hours & crashed in some overpriced motel with a very poor shower (I was very much looking forward to ridding my skin of two days’ worth of dust & sweat). I think that may have been the end of my west coast mountain biking – a shame that, I had an absolute blast & really enjoyed the challenge of riding on different surfaces, some good climbs, fantastic downhills, great scenery & best of all riding with some super people that I wouldn’t have met otherwise. A big thank-you to those that shuttled, showed me rides & were just generally good riding buddies.

Cannell Trail

Irmina’s husband Sam turned up at the campsite with their two dogs at four in the morning – he left LA late after work & also managed to get slightly off the best route to Big Meadow. With my two sleeping mats & toasty Fairydown sleeping bag (it was needed, it got down to under 40 degrees – water freezes at 32) I had had a great sleep & dragged myself out of the tent to see what our little campsite looked like.

This is obviously the stream I could hear the night before.

Not the best photo, but we were surrounded by pines – it’s quite nice seeing native pines in the wilderness, as opposed to plantation forests that I’m used to in NZ.

Our small campsite, there was a great fire off to the left that we got a permit for for the second night – greatly helped to ward off the chill. From what I worked out, Sam came along to cook & drive shuttle runs for us – & he did that superbly. We seemed to have a small store’s worth of food & supplies – first up for breakfast was fantastic omlettes cooked on the tray of the pickup. As we generally lazed around quite a bit, by ten o’clock the bikes were loaded & ready to go.

Even though we were a long way up in the hills, we had to back track along the gravel road to the seal & then climb up to Sherman Pass. About ten minutes from our camp on the gravel we spotted a rather large brown bear cub running away from the road – this was quite exciting, I had never seen a bear in the wild before. It was difficult to get a photo of it as we had to stop first – Bill managed this one – if you look closely in the centre you may be able to make out the shape of a bear.

After that excitement, we continued all the way up to the pass (9200 ft). Good views out to Mt Whitney – the highest point in California & the 48 contiguous states. There were a few others up there preparing to ride & then an old school bus with twenty bikes & riders (& only nineteen helmets apparently – do we have a spare helmet? As if.) turned up – we made sure we were ready to go before them (some were either ambitious or just nuts – with over 7000 ft of downhill, there were a couple of hardtails to be seen).

The trail started off as I expected it to go most of the way – downhill, rocky (but also sandy & dusty) & technical.

It quickly became apparent that I would be the slowest on most of this rocky downhill goodness. But I was in for a rude shock – after our first initial down hill, there was quite a bit of climbing & with all the riding I’d done in the previous fortnight I was a bit quicker – nice not to be holding people up. Most of this climbing was on dirt single track through pines & it got steeper & steeper. More of a matter of pride I stayed in the middle ring & grinded most of the way up, but with a few hundred yards to go & my lungs screaming as we got near 10000 feet I succumbed to the granny ring & relaxed a bit. With a few little stream crossings & the increasing steepness, it was nice to have a slightly technical climb. But it was better that it was all worth it.

Soon we were going down again towards our campsite. To start with (I think, it’s a bit of a blur – it all happened so fast) it was nice tight twisty modestly downhill singletrack.

As has so often been the case with my riding here, the grade increased & the trail turned to rocks in a flash & about five minutes later I emerged from a fantastic chute & pretty pleased at how the riding was going. Back to the smoother track & emerged in another pretty meadow.

I waited a while for the others to catch up & after Bill & I waited for Irmina to show up we wandered back up the track a bit. Met the first of the group of twenty coming down & he advised Irmina was looking for brake pad – not a great sign, but better than injury. Somewhere after all the rocks ended, Irmina grabbed a handful of front brake & quickly found nothing. Quick inspection revealed a pad, the spring & the pin missing. She quickly found the spring back up the trail & proceeded to walk up the trail very slowly looking for the pad. Bill & I joined & gave up after about fifteen minutes of staring at too many rocks & too much dust – but Irmina was determined to find it (“If I can find a rock of cocaine – I can find a brake pad” – police training has some advantages, probably many). Bill & I were both carrying spare pads – but for the more common Juicy brakes – not XTR (who has them?). But the missing pad was found after an hour & the brakes reassembled & the missing pin was MacGyvered out of a keyring & it was just like a bought one. Back on the bikes & it was only a few minutes to the campsite, a quick refuel for the Camelbak, move the coolers/chilly bins/Eskies in to the shade (the sun moves – who would have thought?).

From here we avoided the boggy singletrack around Big Meadow & spent a bit of time on fire road before climbing a long steady hill (my middle-ring efforts were humbled by a guy riding up to the top while we were waiting on a singlespeed 29er). We had also picked up another guy, Brad, near Big Meadow – he had been let out & was riding by himself, & just happened on us – he knew Bill & Irmina from somewhere. From the top of the hill, it was down a bit more & then back in to the most rocky & technical climb I’ve done in a long time. Sod the singlespeed – I was pleased to ride the whole thing in middle ring, only stopping once to push around some big rocks & dabbing one other time.

From here it was another great rocky twisty downhill – I was pleased to let Brad past, he was noticeably quicker than me. Can’t remember too much of that section – except it was great again. By now, the sidewalls on my rear tyre were getting a good beating from scraping on rocks – I must have two or three cuts in them now. Due to our brake pad hunt earlier in the day, the group of twenty had passed us (very spread out) & we were now catching them up & passing them. One of their group had an endo & I was surprised to see as we waited at a fireroad that he was riding with an eye patch on!

From here it was through another gorgeous meadow (perhaps the flattest part of the ride) – there were a few rocks to play on at the end of the meadow:

Now we were at the part we were all waiting for – a 5000 ft descent in just 8 miles (1500 m in almost 13 km). Bill & Irmina had been carrying armour all day & now it was on – this had me slightly nervous, I was hoping that the downhill wasn’t too much steeper & technical than what I had already done – I didn’t have any extra protection. I did put my camera in my backpack, so unfortunately don’t have many photos of it – here is one looking down to Lake Isabella (not the best view of the lot) – we ended up only a couple of hundred feet above the lake in Kernville.

So this eight miles was just fantastic. The start was really tight & rocky with a lot of dropoffs & weaving through obstacles at relatively low speed. After a steep uphill push on sand, the trail opened & smoothed a lot & as we were getting lower, the temperature jumped a lot – just as well there was significant breeze. There was about a mile of heaps of choice switchback as we lost much more altitude. About this time, I experienced my first brake fade – not too surprising. A brief rest at one of the gates & the Juicys recovered somewhat. It was almost over, the last part was blasting down a potted dirt track through a meadow taking less than ideal lines trying to pass the people in the big group that had passed us at our last gate stop – great fun. We waited a little for Sam to pick us up & then it was in to town & I was thankfully able to get a gas can & a couple of gallons of gas for my dry car.

Back to camp – by then it was getting on to seven & a dip in the chilly stream to remove all the dust wasn’t so appealing – I think I got to my knees & that was enough. Sam cooked up a storm & I devoured too much salad, a wonderfully divine huge piece of fresh salmon & some excellent steak. Camping in style, what a great day.