Unpacked- Migration

Fizik Vega carbon ( would take my Vento’s next time, the Vega is an amazing shoe but I realize that they’re less practical for offroad racing / riding)

Poc Cytal Carbon

Day 1

I woke up early to get outside and soak up the last moments of being home. As always the time at home has gone double speed but I worked hard to maximize I had and feel great for it. I got all my packing done early so I could enjoy cooking a meal last night and some trail time before an evening flight to London. Tony had an epic route planned as usual, plenty of trails, a few cat holes and two swimming holes later we stopped at Ikedas for a cold drink and a farewell. Beautiful rides are made more with good friends and Tony is one of my best. I came home to a house in carnage with painters , an electrician and someone giving us a door quote all making busy in our house. I figured our post ride river wash in the north fork of the American river could double as a shower and got changed , threw the bags in the car feeling bad I was leaving Rach to a kitchen demo on top of all this. We drove the couple of hours to SFO chatting and stopped only to get some tape for my bike box. It’s alarming how routine it feels to check your bags , show a passport and then head off on a trip to Africa via London. I’m very excited to spend time in the Masi Mara, I’m very excited to get home and see Rachel. Quick pre flight Modelo while listening to the against the odds pod then time to put in some work in what is my favorite environment to watch movies, a long haul flight.

Flight- movies

Day 2

I landed at 3pm excited to get into town and meet up with Dave Millar for a ride we had planned earlier in the week. He was in town commentating the Dauphiné and I wanted to tour the city by bike. The date was set and all that stood in the way was 17 stops on the Piccadilly line with the destination set as Leicester square. Traveling on the tube is great. Traveling on the tube with a giant bike box big enough you only have to remove the wheels is less great. After some sweating and grunting up the stairs in Leicester square station I emerged into the beautiful afternoon sunshine, mounted my bike box on top of my roller bag and pushed off in search of the hotel. The energy of the city was overwhelming in the best possible way. The feeling of infinite possibilities. The double espresso at check in set things just right and when they waved the cost I thought about moving in permanently. I packed my bike in a large cardboard box so the build only involved putting the wheels on. I messaged back and forth with Dave and we set on meeting at his hotel at 6. I threw my tailfin bag on to pack some lights and extra clothes just in case. Taking off through central London with the incredible early evening weather was intoxicating. The energy of thousands of happy people commuting home had me giddy with excitement and gratitude. A couple of riders snapped some selfies from atop their lime bikes and the traffic lights, pretty weird and cool to be recognized in the chaos. Dave was waiting when I arrived and we headed first for a couple of laps in Richmond park to catch up on all things life. I first met David when we became teammates in 2013 on Garmin. We were fast friends and have maintained that friendship ever since. We don’t get to catch up often, and when we do, despite the number of things that have transpired, we are able to get right to how we are feeling that the state of our current lives. He’s very much an older brother figure who always has a quote or a book reference to explain the uncertainty you present him with. Our lives have changed a great deal since our time as teammates but there have always remained communality’s since. Like any older brother we’ve lead each other astray and enabled the better and worse parts of our personalities many times. But riding with him today has pulled me out of a travel fog and into my feelings. He’d mapped out a tourist tour of the city and as the sunlight began to fade we took in all the greatest hits, on two wheels, laughing and ultimately feeling lucky for the opportunity to do so, that and to have such a good friend halfway around the world. We finished up in the dark at 10:30 pm on primrose hill taking in the view. We mad half assed coffee plans knowing it didn’t matter if it came to fruition. I rolled the 5km back to the city reflecting on how much you can see on a travel day if you make a few plans and lean on a friend.

https://www.strava.com/activities/14781421191

Day 3

I found myself wide awake at 7am only two deadlines, 11am at Rapha h.q. and 5pm at the cinema. After enjoying the bike to see the city yesterday I figured two wheels would link my commitments. Best use of the time. I realized the Rapha club house was just around the corner so I kitted up and dropped in for an espresso. Great to have a community you can drop into when you’re solo. I mapped a route on Komoot to epping park and let the line on the wahoo be my guide. Again to weather was incredible and it seemed to fill every person, shop and car with the knowledge of just how wonderful life can be. I ripped quickly through the park , enjoying the single track somewhat amazed at its proximity to the city. Back through the outskirts I stopped just before arriving at Rapha for an authentic Colombian empanada to silence my hunger. A quick Q and A with Rapha , some meeting about the future and a look at some cool product projects coming filled the best part of four hours. I navigated back to the hotel, in time to shower, pack my bike box and bag (early start tomorrow). I wanted to go to a pub while in London so I ducked in down the road to brewmaster. I’ll admit it was the first one I came across but there was plenty on tap and the cricket was on so I knew this would scratch the itch. I chose an ipa (hazy day) from the many selections on tap. It was good. I called Rachel, watched the cricket and just enjoyed being sat still for 30 minutes. From there I walked to the prince Charles cinema and watched the coffee ride I did with mat Stephan’s on the big screen in a sold out room. I hate watching myself talk but it was a great crew and I actually enjoyed reliving what was a whirlwind 24hrs in February. I finished the night with some seafood with Sam craven. Bisque was unreal. I was tucked up in bed by 1am ready for my 5:30am alarm. This stopover reminded me that these opportunities are what you make of them. Get out of the hotel, interact, ride, see. I felt better for it.

https://www.strava.com/activities/14787172033

Day 4

5:30 came around real quick and I was a zombie jamming my gear into the elevator. I was lucky enough to have a car to drive me and the Eritrean driver told me all about his journey in London while quizzing me on my movements in Kenya.

Check in was easy and I had breakfast at the Gordon Ramsey joint on the other side of security. It was calm and the avocado toast hit a point that’s hard to reach in an airport. On the plane I had a middle seat so I watched a series called Apples never fall because it was there and I usually like Sam Neil. I dozed in bits and the 9hr flight went fast. The Customs line was long but I hit a bit of luck when they opened up the UN line for regular passengers and was through within 30minutes. I located a driver while I waiting for John, my videographer and mate who is my default partner in what is a chaotic race schedule. He was arriving just after me. We set the price at 4000 shillings. I became aware John was at a different terminal. I made the walk and found a new driver on the walk. Nice guy we had a chat found John and hit the road. Driving in Kenya is slow and hectic but I didn’t feel in a hurry so it didn’t bother me. When the driver asked for 16000 shillings for the ride I was bothered. We’d chatted all the way and now he was trying it on me. We settled at 10k and knowing he’d done well he helped us with our luggage. I’d try it on me as well. John and I were stocked to find the kitchen was open all night and the curry was good. We were in bed at 1am hastily making plans to ride to the start location in the Masi Mara the next day. Plans were vague but I knew with Kenneth as my guide we’d make it. Slept like a dead person.

Day 5

We woke up to the alarm at 7:00 knowing we had to get organized before Ken and John’s boda boda (moto) driver arrived at 8:30. We made a pit stop at breakfast downstairs where I mixed fresh fruit coffee, mango juice , eggs and curry, not together but with the speed it was consumed it might as well have been. We walked to the mall and bought supplies for the week along with some sleeping bags from Carrefour. Back at the hotel I jammed everything I wouldn’t need for the two day ride into my bike box and everything I would need into my bike bags. We left our bags at reception to be taken on the bus tomorrow. Ken was waiting outside and Usef (the boda boda driver) was located shortly after. The crew was formed and we had a route. The rest we could work out. I hadn’t seen Kenneth for a while so we had plenty to catch up on as we rode out of town through the tea plantations. John was looking comfortable on the back of Usefs boda boda which was just was as well because as we dropped into the rift valley the roads got gnarly. Big chunky gravel and rock. The green lush tea plantations gave way to dry dusty terrain. Villages were scarce and the only traffic we had were massi Herding cattle. The rough roads were Brocken up with incredible bota boat tracks that make for perfect gravel bike dirt surfing. In the attempt to save gas they find the perfect contours and least physical terrain. You’d think they’d been built by professional trail builders. We took the opportunity to get a cold drink at one of the small villages we past through. The locals were friendly and very interested in what we were doing. The life out here seems a simple one but the villages all seem full of a bustling energy. We drank a warm lemonade, picked up some mandazi for the road and continued on our route. Shortly after I took a digger in some deep dust that hid a rut beneath it. I was covered in dust and hit my knee but it didn’t slow our progress much. Soon we hit a river crossing that involved pushing the bike and therefore lifting the motorbike. It took full force from the four of us to pull it up the steep trail but we managed it, just. It was now mid afternoon and we were still uncertain of where we would sleep. The village were very small and far between. The next river crossing sealed our fate. Entirely impassable for the moto I made the call that we should backtrack slightly and make a push for the main road. We didn’t have sleeping gear and pushing into the night in the Masi Mara isn’t without its risks. Kenneth and I picked up the pace and made short work of the 30km to the road. We stopped at the store there to fuel up for the final 45km push to Narok where we’d have plenty of options for a hotel. Riding on the road was very engaging. The shoulder was often full with livestock and people walking. Cars were constantly overtaking without regard to us on our bikes which meant you couldn’t take your eyes off where you were going for a second. We arrived in Narok and Kenneth chatted with the local moto taxis to get a tip on where to stay. He inspected the first suggestion and said we should try the next one and if it wasn’t better come back. The next hotel was great and we could have a room each with breakfast for $15USD a person. After unpacking our bikes we showered, washed our kit in the sink and set off to find some dinner. Norok was heaving and the streets were busy with people and motorcycles. I was starving and ugali with beef stew was exactly what I needed. A side of fried cabbage tied it all together nicely. We washed it down with cold coke while we planned our route for the next day. After seven hours on the bike our full stomachs sent word to our brains that it was time to sleep, orders I was happy to oblige.

https://www.strava.com/activities/14808944473

Day 6

The mosque next door doubled as our alarm as the call to prayer began at 5am. I did my best to keep my eyes closed but we were all present when breakfast opened at 6:30am An omelet with toast and fresh fruit filled us with energy. We laughed as we sucked back a second coffee full of the excitement that comes being somewhere new with only road ahead to take you somewhere else new. We headed out to a small store to grab some biscuits and water for the ride. We were briefly surrounded by some young kids who were obviously intoxicated, even at this early hour. I watched as they sniffed from a small plastic bottle hidden in their shirt realizing the source of the inebriation. Kenneth suggested we buy them tea on the way home, which we did. It was an easy 80km or so to the camp where the migration gravel race would start. Being located in a game park meant we would need a guide to take us in the last kilometers to ensure we didn’t have any dangerous animal encounters. We stopped for Tea after 60km. I only drink tea in Kenya, because it’s delicious and sweet. and then managed to overshoot out turn off by 10km. After righting our mistake James Savage (race organizer and all-round legend) met us at the turn-off on his motorbike to guide us in the last 5km. Arriving at camp was incredible. The plains spread out every direction. A group of giraffes stood about countless wildebeest as a lone hyena lurked amongst them. A truly surreal setting for a camp let alone a bike race. Lunch was served as we arrived so we ate and sat in the shade reflecting on the journey we’d had to the start. Kenneth and Usef had to make the journey back to Nairobi and as we packed Ken’s bike onto the motorcycle Usef said he’d never experienced anything like it despite having lived in Nairobi his whole life. What a great experience to share with someone who was a stranger just the morning before. I then registered for the event and set off to find my tent. I fell asleep only to be woken up to be told I was in fact in the wrong tent. I moved my gear and met my young roommate David. An 18 year old from Nairobi who was trying to prove himself worthy of a spot on the black mambas development team. I located the charging station in the media tent to plug in my electronic gears which were running low. After the race briefing I caught up with Tsgabu at dinner. Another good friend who I always have the most interesting conversations with. His positivity and ambition are infectious. i wish i could get a pep talk from him every morning. The stage was set to start at 8:30am and I enjoyed falling asleep listening to David tell me his hopes for the days to come. There’s nothing quite like sleeping in a tent in the Masi Mara. I’m not sure if it’s the animal calls or the energy radiating from the dirt itself but life here feels incredibly peaceful and I remember why I’m here.

https://www.strava.com/activities/14876175306

Day 7

Race mornings generally follow a similar routine. Wake up 2-2.5 hrs before the start. Drink a coffee , eat something, drink another coffee while getting kitted up, fill some bottles , grab some race nutrition, roll around on the bike to make sure it’s functioning correctly, load top the gpx on the wahoo, line up, race. I rarely get nervous anymore. I understand the task, I accept the uncertainty and I have experienced the discomfort enough to know what is required of my body and mind. At camp things still followed a similar pattern. I woke up about 6:30am, made the short walk to the food tent, mixed up some pretty great instant with the hot water as the line for the espresso machine seemed a task to many, ate some oats and honey with Keyia and Stanley from the Amani team. This race means a lot to them. We spoke about how to approach the stage with the right mindset and what goals they had for the race. Stanley is a teenager who has quickly graduated from the black mambas development program into the Amani team. He rides with ambition and determination but has the soft spoken nature of a young man who is still absorbing new experiences while still having a quiet confidence about him. Keiya has long dreadlocks and an incredible free spirit that has him singing and dancing at breakfast before fighting you for a wheel when the flag drops. The conversation gives me energy even at this early hour. I fill my bottles with Amacx sports drink that’ll make up my race nutrition (gels and bars are heavy to fly with) and pull on my Knicks. My bike is still filthy from the ride over as there was no water available the night before. I’m not worried. It's time to line up and before I know it we’re fighting out way through an unlikely scene during the 5km neutral zone. Wildebeest dart in every direction as the helicopter whips up dust. The motorbikes ahead of the peloton have the giraffes breaking into their slow motion sprint. Riders jostle and push their way forward , breaking , dodging rocks all fighting for a spot on the smooth line that will inevitably shuffle them backward again. What an overload. But in the best possible way. Not a soulless information overload that a doom scroll poisons the brain with. An overload that leaves you with no option but to be in the moment. If the experience ended there it would have been enough. Soon the flag drops and my mind has wandered so far from the 130km race that lays ahead it feels like a shock. It's almost a shame to force the lactic acid induced reality check upon myself. But the racer races and soon I’m bridging up to Lucas Baum and Hans Becking on a rocky climb, sure that if I don’t make this bridge they will disappear up the road for good. These race brain decisions are instinctual, like the wildebeest running from the chaos. It's hard to decipher if the body or brain is reacting first to the input of the race playing out before me. Soon a lead group forms. We are seven or eight. The pace is very high and the terrain requires full concentration, all the time. Rocks, ruts, single tracks, it's all there, all the time. My body is responding well and I push the pace along with Lucas and Hans for no reason other than the idea of competition itself. It's a raw and simple format of racing that makes this event so appealing . We will all push, some will stay others will be dropped, we will all arrive empty. After 70 or 80 kilometers feel something hit my leg and Tsgabu informs me my wahoo had fallen off. I continue riding for approximately 2 seconds. In those seconds I way up the possibility of continuing without it and the repercussions of going back for it. I know at this speed stopping will mean never seeing the front again. I also know that riding the migration without navigation is impossible, it cost me the race last time I was here. I hit the breaks and circle back, scanning the road as I go. I see it. Its come off with the mount, I must have missed that on my bolt check. User error. With no way to re attach it ,as the tiny bolt is lost, I put it in my pocket and begin to chase knowing I need to keep someone in sight for directional purposes. I can see the group splitting to pieces in front of me and I set my sights on Keiya who is the first to be dropped with this injection of pace. I catch him quickly but realize soon his legs have gone hollow and I’ll be breaking wind myself. Next is Tsgabu, who is roadside plugging his tire. I realize it’ll be best to have a partner to chase with and wait for him to catch up. Together we make good progress until the only two who remain in front are Hans and Lucas. Our group is now four and I push hard the last 10km simply for the sake of pushing hard. It now feels good. My body aches but my mind is singularly focussed on the most efficient line through this mine field of a road. With a handful of kilometers left I’m Brocken from my trace as a group of riders stand on the trail. They are completing the short course but here they are stopped behind a group of Masi men who are blocking their progress. They explain he is the land owner and he is refusing to let them through. Hans and Lukas had pushed on, I weighed up the situation and figured it best to wait and respect the owner of this land. The small insight I have into the negotiations to gain access to these incredible lands allow me to understand it's better not to push those relationships. We wait a few minutes and after the land owner received some new information , I’m not entirely sure where from, he moves his motorbike allowing us to pass. I finish at the back of our trio in 4th position. I unpack the race with Jordan and Tsgabu as well gulp down water and sip on cold cokes. Next it's a shower, the showers here are among the most memorable of my life but I’ll explain that later. I have lunch with Tsgabu and we debrief further. He is more analytical that me and I enjoy his insights. I tend to leave the racing at the finish line but here, reliving all the small intense moments that make this race unique is a pleasure. I gab a cold white cap and sit down on the lay back sram chairs soaking it up. Riders finish beneath a blow up banner with the plains, teeming with wildlife behind them. The local women have set up a makeshift market next to our camp and I take the opportunity to buy some shuka cloth for home. I’m too tired to haggle and I take no issue with the increasing price of each item purchased. The labor put into simply walking the plains here to sell is mind blowing let alone what it took to make these brightly decorated peices. Who am I to decide a price on that. I leave with 5 shuka cloths, a bowl and down 20000 shillings. The pleasant interactions had have given me energy and perspective. I share dinner with a German named Georg who now lives in Foster NSW, right near Port Macquarie where I grew up and still feel most at home. Small world.

Day 8

Breakfast for me is boiled arrowroot mixed in with the oats. An unlikely combination that hits just right. I have the time to wait for an espresso so I do. Its Wonderfull, Rapha had apparently gone to great lengths to bring this rocket machine from Europe last year and its pouring gold this morning. The baristas are from Nairobi and we chat briefly about the coffee scene there. Today we will finish at a different camp so it’s necessary to pack a bag for out two nights there. It only takes a couple of minutes and I take it to the ruck to be transported. Todays stage will take us up a long climb that I know well from other editions. The race begins will a series of attacks from Amani and the black mambas. Tsgabu obviously has a plan and he is acting the leader, directing his team with a fierce determination. Lucas is leading the race and seems frustrated to have his lead tested by this young group of east Africans who are proving they have the legs to compete. The situation becomes tactical and tense when a group of riders break clear with Lucas and Hans marking Tsgabu seemingly focusing their frustrations on the instigator. Jordan Schleck of team Amani has bridged to this group and I know he stands a good chance on this course. He sits third overall and his 45kg body will fare well on the long climb ahead. Our group is a stalemate and I set a tempo simply to keep the peace. Not a hard tempo. I have no ambition to catch the group ahead just yet. I also feel no responsibility to help the leader when the Jersey is his to defend. We reach the climb some 4/5minutes behind the leaders. Tsgabu launches a searing attack from the base with an incredible display of character and ability. He is soon out of sight. I know this climb so I set a pace I know will bring me to the summit the fastest. This has me with Hans and Lucas on the lower slops. As we gain elevation the dusty white roads become red and more moist. The dry vegetation give way to lush green trees and the thinning air is strangely easier to breath. I notice my front break rubbing and the headset that I though was loose earlier in the stage is in fact a loose front wheel. Knowing this is not something I can ignore I stop and tighten it after locating the 6mm on my multitool whilst still in motion. It costs me 20 or thirty seconds but my legs are good and most of the climb is ahead. I pick my way past Lucas and Hans at the aid station and set about catching the remaining riders. By the time we summit the only rider left is Jordan having caught Lawrence Naeson close to the top. I push the incredible single track decent after catching up with Jordan on the plateau. I take some measured risk but this descent is about as much fun as you can have on a gravel bike and I enjoy it all. We are now three in front with 30km left to race. I push hard without help until the finish. Lawrence has a bad back and Jordan is on his limit. Having ridden the final with my nose in the wind the whole way my sprint Is lacking and Lawrences back is just strong enough to come around me in the last 300 meters to snatch the win. Im frustrated for a minute but I’ve enjoyed this stage. Lucas and Hans come through 2/3 minutes back.

The showers! Oh man the showers here are Wonderfull. A tarp square acts as the screen. A large bucket is hoisted about having been filled with hot water that warms on the fire nearby. The bucket has a makeshift shower head attached that is turned on via a small lever on the side. The hot water that streams from this bucket feels completely at odds with the surroundings. A luxury that is to be savored. I turn it on barely to make it last as long as possible, washing my kit and shoes first before my body. The top of the tent is a great place to dry clothes as the sun heats the dark outer layer. John and I interview David, my young roommate, who gives us an incredible blow my blow on his journey from first bike to a migration start. The insight into his story helps me appreciate just how much more complicated that road is for a young cyclist from Nairobi. Next we interview Mary who rides for the black mambas. Her story is another incredible one and the appreciation she has for the freedom the bike gives her is something I can relate to despite coming to that conclusion from very different beginnings. I lye down in my tent before dinner and listen to music. I have no phone signal here and I’m grateful for it. I listen to songs Ive heard before but without distraction they take on a new meaning. There’s nothing to do but listen. It's magic.

Playlist:

Dedi Dedilee- Breeder LW

Dialing In- Thom Yorke

Alive (Iwant to feel)- Floodlights

The fairest of seasons- Nico

Jackie B- &friends

Big Iron- Marty Robbins

Linger- The Cranberries

Nothing changes- MGMT

Nebraska- Pony face

Ta Ta Ta- & friends

Cold Shoulder- Zach John King

Like This or This- Hommel

100 shots- Young Dolph

Maybe- Moeaike

https://www.strava.com/activities/14876170472

Day 9

Waking up in the tent to my alarm with the knowledge of the terrain we have to cover before I can rest again in this tent is daunting. The toughest stage is ahead of us and the fatigue is now significant. I bookend breakfast with visits to the espresso boys. We start the race at an unsustainable rate. But competition is competition so I buy in and launch my own attack. There is no grand plan to it apart from simply being involved. The single track through the forest here is one of the greatest pleasures you can have on a bike. I take the opportunity to push the pace and thin the group down. When we exit the forest only Jordan, Hans and Lukas remain. Jordan works less knowing Tsagbu is chasing close behind. A tactic that is completely understandable but one the others take issue with. I’m not interested in tactics. The surroundings and route don’t pair with ego and ambition in my opinion. I continue to ride hard until I notice my rear break rubbing. This time it’s my rear wheel that is loose. When I stop to fix it the others disappear up the road and the fight has left me. I continue somewhat glad to be removed from the battle that rages ahead. Alone on the plains I look around and become aware of how lucky I am to ride a bike in this Wonderfull place. The breath of Tsgabu breaks my thought and the intensity of his chase is jarring. I tell him I’m done with the fight up front but he calls me out in my defeat. It's a race after all and he has no doubt we can get back in it. We chase with a renewed spirit and soon find ourselves catching Jordan and Hans. Lucas is ahead alone. Tsgabu pulls a hero turn into the last climb with the idea of putting Jordan into contention. I take over when we hit the final 15km climb and try to make inroads into the minute lead Lukas clings to. The gap whittles itself down with the pace my legs can handle. The four of us find ourselves together on the plateau after the climb tops out. Lucas and Hans seem hellbent on getting rid of Jordan. I enjoy his company so I side with him. We throw some haymakers but we’re all too fatigued to make a difference at this late stage. The descent is technical and rough so I decide that’s the only spot to make a difference. Knowing the risk I let go of the breaks and send the thing. The speed is reckless but its win or loose now. Two thirds of the way down I feel the rim touch rock and know my gamble hasn’t payed off. I stop and plug the tire without urgency. I played my card and came up short. I set off on a half hearted chase and to my surprise , catch Hans and Jordan without much effort. They are stuck in a stalemate with Lucas busy up the road winning the stage. The tactics seem petty and I simply wish to make it back to camp. The rain begins to fall as I pull the others towards an inconsequential sprint. I finish in 4th. The way the guys raced briefly angers me but a shower, again, cures all. A shower along with a few white caps and some hot chips from the food truck. We all chat it out and ultimately laugh about it. At the end of the day it’s a bike race and racers will race how they see fit. That we can all agree on.

Day 10

The final stage will take us back to our original camp. My kit is still wet from yesterday so I hang it directly above the fire to dry. The stage begins fast and It feels that scores must be settled amongst the front runners. We all take turns pushing the pace, attacking, sitting on, repeated and multiplied. Its ego driven racing that I don’t particularly enjoy however I participate taking long hard pulls for no reason. When my wheel comes loose again I take that as my out. Mentally another chase seems beyond me today. The other riders are not far in front and no moving particularly fast anymore but I decide to slow down and enjoy the last 60km. This land is to amazing to let myself become negative and removing myself from the front of the race seems the best option. I sit for 10 minutes at the next aid station having a chat, eating chips and water melon. These last kilometers I’m more able to pull my focus from line choice on the road and take in the surroundings. I ride in with David. It feels fitting to finish with my young roommate. My mood is soured when I hear how the finish played out but I’m resolute it won’t ruin my day. I drink a few beers with Tsgabu as a storm rolls over the plains in time to dampen the finish ceremony. There’s word of elephants the other side of camp but I can’t see them and having seen a bunch, way to close during a night push in Tanzania a few years ago I don’t feel the need to pursue it further. The mood is nice, a tired sense of accomplishment amongst competitors and organizers alike. It's an achievement to complete this course and an unbelievable feat to put this event on. I pack I my bike before calling Rachel while I have a quick lye down before dinner. The roar of a lion wakes me. It's 3am and I’ve unknowing fallen asleep. The sound awakens something. My body knows this means danger. Hundreds of thousands of years tell me so. And that fear feels good. I lye awake and not just awake, alive.

Day 11

Pack up, drink some coffee and jump on the bus headed to Nairobi. Ive made this trip enough to know we’ll be on here all day despite the relatively short distance we need to travel. After being slowed early on by a river crossing we watch the animals through the open windows. The bus travels the dirt paths much slower than a swarming bike race and the change of pace is nice. When we hit the tarmac Maddy suggests we play we’re not really strangers. I’ve never heard of it, and we more or less are. It involves asking a group a single question and listening to each individuals answers. It sounds straight forward but the questions are challenging. We have a small group and the questions begin. If you could be anywhere right now, where are you and who are you with? What’s your biggest insecurity? Do you have any toxic traits? Whats the biggest lesson youve learnt this year? Not insignificant questions. They require deep thought and feels like the kind of reflection that comes a little easier being tired and far from home. We are now no longer strangers, as the games name suggests and the conversations that flow from it are amazing. The kind of honest talk that comes easier with people you are just getting to know. I take thirty minutes solo to make a song on garage band and take a break from my rearward facing seat that began causing nausea on the final climb to Nairobi. I enjoy making music while traveling. I’m not great but it does bring me into the moment instantly and keeps the creative brain alive. The trip has come to a close and as usual my time in the Masi Mara has provided time and space for learning and reflection. I’m filled with an energy that a trip like this can often take rather than provide.

Book rec- We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo , picked this up in Nairobi on the way out and has had me thinking ever since.

My bus song-skip the first 10 seconds

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