Day 6 – Voi to Mariakani – Nothing Stops Us

Day 5 presented a frustrating obstacle. We never had planned to drive anywhere and then have to backtrack. What happened to Tsavo!? Well, this quickly became a secondary issue. As we woke up the next morning, our support car was broken down and we had no way of getting back to ‘Tsavo’ anyways.

As we pushed the car out of our guest house parking lot – it’s important to note, this is a ‘push start’ car most of the time anyways, (Kenya, ha!) – we found a mechanic in the back alley. Between the ‘mechanic’ and I, we figured out the problem, there was an arc between the wires and the engine that prevented the spark and the engine starting. Mechanic speak for no power, no fire, no go. How did we find this out? Well, considering all 30 (seriously, this is Kenya) ‘mechanics’ that came by had a different opinion I did not agree with, I finally got into the engine, put my hand on the distributor and proceeded to shock the hell out of my hand finding the arc! Not fun.

After a few hours and some band-aid repairs we got the mighty Peugot up and running again, but we’d lost half a day. Speaking to more locals, it became very clear that going back to Tsavo would be a bad idea. Between the animals and the criminals, everyone, impressed we had made it safetly this far, recommended we just move on from Voi. Goals change, so we changed our goal. We were not here to have anything bad happen, it wouldn’t be helpful to skate4kenya, the Sauder Africa Inititative or any of our objectives. It was time to leave from Voi.

Voi was still about 150 Kilometers to Mombasa, so we would have at least 2 more solid days. We strapped up, loaded up on water and headed back out on the road. I spent the better part of my morning angry about Tsavo and anry about the car. It’s not as if our plans weren’t fluid and flexible, but I wanted to skate it all – heck I still skated after crashing outside Salama!

Hitting some of the heaviest headwinds yet and more uphills (were there going to be any real downhills!!) took my mind of anger and focused it on pushing and sweating to climb and move forward. The speed bumps we first encounteres yesterday just kept coming as well and we had to either smash through them or roll around them. The speed bumps would prove to create the next real obstacle of the day.

About 40 kilmometers outside Voi, Val, Rob, and I (in the order from back to front) were rolling on the edge of the Mombasa highway rather than directly on the shoulder, avoiding the speed bumps to make some better and easier time. There was intermittent traffic, but nothin too heavy. Vehicles pass each other and us with ease normally in the 2 lane road. When there was 2-way traffic, we headed back onto the full shoulder to give way. We’d had mixed experiences with traffic, some honked friendly and waved or gave us the thumbs up and some honked angry and sped up to show their contempt. Others would slow to ask what we were doing and applaud and others would slow and yell, finger and throw garbage at us, telling us to get off the road. I think we’d agree, 80 percent were ok and generally friendly or confused by the Mzungus.

Today was not my day. As we skated in the order I described, a bus, the WORST and most dangerous vehicles on the road, came honking wildly. There was NO other traffic. I didn’t notice Val and Rob being forced off to the shoulder behind me as the ‘MODERN COAST‘ bus gunned down on them and I didn’t hear them yelling. I just trodded along exhausted and gave the old right hand thumbs up and waved the bus by. THERE WERE NO OTHER CARS. Something just sounded wrong, I turned and as I turned a hopped off my deck to avoid the speeding bus behind me. He was too close and too fast and clipped my outstretched right arm and hand, smashing my hand, knuckles and fingers.

Blood everywhere, I yelled for the guys to call the support car, which wasn’t more than half a kilometer away. I was FURIOUS!!! These busses were the WORST as it was, but this one aimed for us – literally. He couldn’t have gotten any closer if he tried without leaving the road and hitting the speedbump shoulder! With the car there I started to wash and antiseptic swab, but saw another Modern Coast bus coming. I got out into the road and blocked his path – this one would have to kill me to get by. He opened his door and I just started in on him and demanded the info for the company and the bus ahead. Who was I kidding, this is Africa. He was terrified (I didn’t realize Fred was behind me with my machete) and said they have no radios and he has no idea what bus it was, they just leave on a schedule and arrive as they get there – yeah, as FAST as they can!

After collecting the info and letting him go, I just walked off from my team and shrunk to the curb. I was angry, depressed and just ready to quit. The bus I stopped made it clear to us that they knew about the Mzungus and had seen us before. The bus that hit me knew – if this one saw us, then the other had seen us as well. Total bullshit!

I sat on the edge between the shoulder and dirt for a good 20 minutes watching a rural man herd his goats and a group of traditionally dressed boys chatting with the team. It was the first time since we left Nairobi that I wanted this to be over. Falling in Salama was my own stupidity and lack of experience, getting cussed out, having garbae thrown at us and then gettin hit by the bus was somethin completely different. Ultimately, we couldn’t stop. If he had seen us before, he would surely see us again on his way back and that, in my mind would be enough – you can not stop us. I picked up my deck, thanked the team for the bandages and just started pushing again, Rob in chase.

After another hour, hand throbbing, no town in sight and no clear indication when we should end for the day or where we would stay, it was getting late and time to get off the road for the day. It was the right decision regardless. Half a kilometer down the road the shoulder ended and there was no way we would be able to push without a shoulder for safety. The bus incident was not the only evidence we couldn’t be ‘on’ the road full time.

The decision was made to keep driving till we found a place to stay and start pushing again in the morning wherever the shoulder returned. It finally returned about 50 kilometers from Mombasa at the edge of a town called Mariakani. Rather than go all the way into town, there was a guest house here on the outskirts with a Choma attached to it. We negotiated a price for the rooms, dinner and breakfast and decided to stay here.

My hand was a wreck, but I was alive. Even the cold shower wasn’t going to get me down tonight. Tomorrow we would return to the 50 kilometer mark and the ‘safety’ of the shoulder and make our final push for the finish.