Two Wheels to Heaven — Take Two

You’d think it would be easy-peasy this time round, cycling downhill from Nairobi, and stopping at the foot of Mt Kilimanjaro? 

Far from it.  

Despite training in snow, floods and freezing temperatures in England, careful planning, linking up again with our old friends Sandy and Juliet to join us, and arranging for Geoffrey, our previous guide, to follow us in his Land Cruiser. Finding four suitable bikes to hire in Nairobi (one of which constantly let us down), we were challenged by the daily distances, bike failures, punctures and the heat, which rose to over 40 degrees Celsius.  

We had to accept the distances — our route took us on back roads limited by the locations of places to stay, so it was a question of getting on with our four-day ride. 

You may well ask why we do this? For us, it’s a beautiful challenge to throw ourselves at and immerse ourselves in a country — ‘adventure cycling’, we call it — to sample the fabric and textures of the countryside, to meet people, see how they live and to experience our journey through it. And on the way, usually travelling side by side, we are always looking, trying to understand and absorb what we see, whether it is the countryside itself or the flora and the farming within, the architecture, or how people live within the landscape. 

But you cannot keep looking out at the big picture, as at the same time, being on a mountain bike, following dirt roads, you must pay attention to ‘finding the right line’. While some of the roads we cycled through were up to 7m wide, the texture and make-up of road surfaces differed widely — from sand to corrugations — so we were always zig-zagging, hunting for the optimum comfort and traction.  

Other times, when the conditions became too uncomfortable, we would veer off into the bush to find beautiful singletrack routes created by ‘boda-bodas’, the Kenyan motorcycle taxis. Following a dirt ribbon into the wilderness is the ultimate experience. 

Even though we knew that ‘Kili’ was towering somewhere ahead of us, she kept herself hidden. Only in the afternoon of day three, she finally revealed herself. You cannot imagine the attraction and thrill of cycling in open and wild scenery and being almost pulled towards such a magnificent beacon. 

On day four, Rosco, CEO of Angama, joined us. He swapped his bike with Juliet’s, which had been groaning with a duff crank bearing, and all five of us headed out of the bush onto the main road leading to Kimana. 

Just outside the town, we were greeted by my sister, Nicky Fitzgerald, and some of the Angama Amboseli family, and two tuk-tuks (three-wheeled scooters), bearing ‘Karibuni Tena’ welcome banners, and together they accompanied us into the Kimana Sanctuary, for the final stretch to Angama Amboseli Lodge. 

The excitement of cycling through a potentially wildlife-infested landscape was palpable. While we were perfectly safe, with Askaris aboard each tuk-tuk, it was an emotional end as we rounded the last corner, four abreast, to cross the tape and into the arms of the welcoming Angama family.  

We dropped our bikes and ran to be greeted by chanting and dancing Maasai awarded beautiful basketry ‘medals’ (each with our initials) and toasted with smoky-tasting Maasai milk as a celebration drink from General Manager, Collins.