The Laikipia XC would cover 500 kilometres spread over six days, six stages and include 10,000 metres of climbing - I was a little nervous, but the overwhelming feeling was one of excitement.

My prearranged driver had stood patiently waiting amongst a wash of faces in the arrivals area at the airport whilst I organised my visitor’s visa. Following a warm greeting of ‘hello my friend’ like we’d known each other for years (something I would get very used to during my time in Kenya) we loaded my gear into a van and before I knew it, I was being whisked into the busy streets of Nairobi, a city of some four million people.

The driver was taking me to the Tribe Hotel, the meet up point for all the teams competing in the Laikipia XC. Staring out of the van on the journey to the hotel was complete sensory overload. I was physically tired from an early departure out of Dubai but my brain was wired watching scenes so foreign to life as we know it in the western world. It was a Sunday morning but there was busyness everywhere.

Outside the van I took in the whirr of construction, destruction, rickety shacks, people walking with animals, roadside vendors and sadly a fair amount of roadside rubbish. I’d viewed similar sights during recent time spent in South Africa but the one thing that stood out as being different was the heightened security presence amongst it all. Police patrols wielding massive road spikes and heavy guns were present amongst it all. Initially, I found this a little unnerving but in time I learned there was nothing to fear and they quickly blended into the mêlée of the busy streets.

Eventually, I arrived at the rather elaborate six-star Tribe Hotel.

Given my early arrival into Nairobi I was the first of the riders to arrive. Sitting in the lobby I was offered a coffee and within minutes was identified by Kevin, our official photographer for the event. He, with expensive SLR camera in hand; me with helmet in one hand, espresso in the other. I guess you can take the boy from Wellington, but not his need for good coffee.

Unbeknown to me at the time, Kevin and I would be spending lots of time together in the race. He’d end up jumping on and off the back of two-stroke motorbike snapping photos of us, whilst I (and race partner Tere) rode along with varying states of euphoria and physical anguish painted on our faces. In addition, Kevin was to become the man of a thousand hands, juggling not only his SLR but extra water bottles for us for the longer race stages.

Soon after my arrival others began to show up, including Tere my good friend and race partner for the event. Tere and I were competing in the mixed category as ‘The Little Pesos’. We’d travelled together previously in South Africa so knew each other well.

In the following hour, more competitors (many ex-pat Europeans living in Nairobi) trickled into the hotel with their respective race partners, life partners, gear and bikes. We were an eclectic bunch with a wide range of race experience.

10am was our designated departure from the Tribe and the crew had us packed up and on the road as per the schedule. From Nairobi, a 180km bus journey lay ahead to the Naro Moru Lodge, our destination for the night.

By mid-afternoon we arrived at the Naro Moru, and the effect of the altitude was immediately noticeable. This wasn’t surprising of course as we were at the foothills of Mount Kenya, Africa’s second highest mountain.

What was left of the afternoon was taken up with the pre-race formalities I’ve become so accustomed to over the years. The big difference to any other event I’ve competed in was the stunning location and the willingness of the crew to help set up our bikes.

We were told Mount Kenya could be seen on a clear day from the lodge but despite its obscurity there was no denying we were on the fringe of a unique mountain environment. Far off in the distance we could see where the treeline of the forest receded and the openness of the mountain landscape began.

WORDS BY JUSTIN PRICE PHOTOGRAPHY BY KEVIN MIDEGO

Laikipia XC MarathonAN AFRICAN STAGE RACE, COMPLETE WITH ELEPHANTS.

MY ARRIVAL AT JOMO KENYATTA AIRPORT IN NAIROBI EARLY ON THE MORNING OF JULY 6 BROUGHT ON FEELINGS OF EXCITEMENT AND TREPIDATION. I WAS HERE IN KENYA TO TAKE ON THE LAIKIPIA XC WILDERNESS RACE WITH RACE PARTNER TERE CROFT FROM CHILE.

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Monday, day one of the race dawned and despite an average night’s sleep (my body clock was still somewhere between Dubai and South Africa), I was pretty amped. The riders

assembled for a quick pre-race picture and there was a feeling of heightened anticipation about the group.I was feeling particularly inspired that morning after meeting Douglas, a blind rider who was going to be piloted around the course on a tandem mountain bike. Douglas had been a victim of the US embassy bombing in Nairobi back in the nineties. A case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time he’d been driving past the US embassy when the bomb had gone off, blasting glass and debris into his eyes and taking away his sight forever. Douglas and his 22-year-old co-pilot Joe were all smiles and just as amped as I was. After talking to them, I quickly forgot about any jetlag or altitude-induced fatigue. If the obstacles we face are relative to the challenges of those around us, I didn’t have much to worry about.Stage 1 was set at 51kms with 950 metres of elevation gain. The second shortest of the six stages it was designed to ease us into the six day event. We began alongside the Ewaso Ng’iro River which runs beside the Naro Moru Lodge.Disengaging my brain, I took off from the start-line like I was in some World Cup XC event. I’ve never really been one to ease myself into anything, my pre-race caffeine fix normally to blame. Tere had latched onto my wheel and for a time she had the whole field hanging on the back of her. We made our way over single trail and rough dirt ‘murram’ roads through a nearby town. We crossed an air field and the Equator. The corrugations on the road were extremely hard, and I was immeasurably thankful for the plushness of my Pivot 429.Eventually we broke into forest double track. The riding here was sublime, not so much because of the terrain under our tyres, but for the vistas we were looking out on. By this time we’d been racing for close on an hour and I figured we were well clear of the rest of the pack.We relaxed the pace a little to enjoy the view from the peaks and when the forest canopy gave way we could see views of Mt Kenya right in front us.Whilst in the forest we were constantly on the lookout for animals, out of both interest and trepidation. We knew there were elephants in the region and protective elephant wire fences spaced sporadically along the route were a reminder to remain vigilant. Along many of the forest roads we could spot what we thought was elephant dung, and we quickly lost count of the number of monkeys we’d seen.

Eventually we began to climb up the foothills of the mountain proper. In the heart of the Mount Kenya forest there were tall green trees, massive ferns and the sounds of wildlife all around until we arrived at a riverbed clearing which according to our Garmin had us only a few kilometres from the end of the stage. There was a small river crossing on the other side and Tere spotted the next team within a few hundred metres of us (later that night the two South African riders Mark and Kearn would joke Tere looked as though she’d seen a lion - the look of fright unmistakable).From that point on it was probably the fastest we’d ridden all day. The hammer went down and on the last few kilometres of chalk-marked singletrack we dug deep, far deeper than what we needed to as it turned out, successfully crossing the day one finish line first in around two hours. The course had taken us to a high point of 2400m before descending to the campsite at 2166m.The benefit of coming into the camp early meant we were able to try for the first time all the facilities and services that had been laid on for the riders. This was military level organisation in full effect. There was a mess tent, logistics and admin tent, food preparation area, latrines, hot showers and a series of two-person tents (one per rider) and importantly a massage tent readily equipped with Alex, massage therapist to the stars and now us.It wasn’t long before I found myself on Alex’s massage table. Alex was not only an expert therapist, but also a capable bike racer himself.Well-fed at dinner, we then found ourselves retelling the day’s war stories around a large campfire. In the background we could hear a cacophony of animal sounds as the Mount Kenya forest came alive for the night.The next day we rose early from our tents to be greeted with the stunning views of Mount Kenya. Even though the day before hadn’t been particularly arduous or lengthy, I felt a little fatigued. I attributed this to the altitude.Day 2 the stage began by heading back into the Mt Kenya forest through a series of narrow paths into the Shamba land to the small town of Timau. Near the town we lost track of our position on the course and turned back to retrace our steps. In so doing we reacquainted ourselves with the chase group. We then proceeded to get lost together!Each team was carrying a GPS unit of sorts but knowing where we were on a map was one thing but being able to physically get to the next point was the real difficulty. Our options as they presented themselves were to troop through a crop of sugar cane or drop into a nearby ravine and scramble our way up the other side.

Consensus prevailed and we took the more adventurous hike-a-bike a bike option into the ravine.Back on track again the tempo lifted in sync with the course

elevation. Temperatures also began to rise and were now well into the mid-thirties as we headed up and into the conservancy of Lolldaiga Hills.In the Lolldaigas we were told there were 400 elephants. Thus we were escorted by rangers who job was to ensure the trail was clear. We hadn’t seen any elephants to date but there had been plenty of zebra, wildebeest and impala.After a steady climb up a gradual dirt road we reached a high rocky outcrop and could see right down over the Laikipia plateau. The view below was other-worldly, the expanse below so massively barren and scrub- like. We then traversed a rocky ledge on a surface reminiscent of somewhere like Moab. Sun drenched the red rocks, and the surface had our tyres sticking like cheese to pizza. I took my hands off the brakes and allowed myself to reach an insensible speed. For me this was as good as it gets.Back on gravel road we continued further on into the Laikipia valley. As the day gave way to afternoon the temperature had begun to ebb off, but for a Kiwi not long out of a New Zealand winter it was still plenty hot.Eventually we edged up a small gravel road climb. Twenty or so metres ahead I spotted a herd of elephants very close to the road. I signalled back to Tere to slow down, and dismounted. Tere drew up along beside me and motioned to her right. I hadn’t noticed a large elephant by itself, probably within 5-10 metres of us. This was likely to be the bull elephant, the protector of the herd. He had been chowing down on a tree. He spotted us and gave us one hell of a John Wayne staredown. We froze as he threw his trunk up to the sky, let out a loud trumpet and flapped his big grey ears. We didn’t fancy standing still any longer, so quickly got back on our bikes and headed back the way we’d come.We kept riding until we were out of sight of the herd and their protector, the bull elephant, and waited patiently in the hope they might clear off. As luck would have it after about 10 minutes the big gear truck pulled up alongside us. Despite taking copious amounts of dust into our lungs we decided to draft behind the truck for a few kilometres. We passed by the elephants - this time they had moved away from the road. I counted 10 including two babies linked behind their mothers, trunk to tail.Shortly after we arrived at the finish line at the foot of an impressive rock face. Day two had ended covering 76kms with an elevation gain of 1260 metres. Again, we’d managed to cross the line first.

That evening ( to everyone’s amusement) Tere produced Go-Pro footage showing our ‘incident’ with the elephant and the unmistakable look of a man who was in need of a spare set of undies.No-one else had got quite as close to the elephants as us, but everyone had experienced a long eventful day. As was the case the previous evening, fires were lit around our camp as a deterrent. Again the usual sounds of the wildlife coming alive rang out as the night drew on.Day 3 and a 101km stage lay ahead of us. I woke feeling energized. I felt so good I was keen to go solo, give the stage a good crack and push my own limits as much as possible. Our overall lead was all but sewn up but I had to ensure there was consensus before I ditched my team-mate for the day. Tere was happy to ride at her pace for the day in the company of the two Kenyan support riders, Vincent and Joe.Tere and I rolled along with the Vincent and Joe for the beginning of the stage through open savannah and dry grassland. Along the route we saw Masai tribesmen working the land, happily waving out to us with their machetes, which I found quite entertaining.Feeling good, I went ahead of the others under the midday sun. Even the Masai were now seeking shelter from an unyielding blue sky. At one point I’m sure there were birds circling overhead waiting for my demise. This is what I love about racing, the suffering and exertion rolled into one with the ultimate goal of leaving all your effort out on the course. If it weren’t for competition, you’d be unlikely to push yourself this hard.Eventually I came to the entrance to the Mukogodo Forest. The forest is massive, covering 74,000 acres. The forest was also home to 35 big mammals, 12 small mammals and 210 species of bird. After the incident with the elephants the previous day - and since I was now on my own - I found myself overly reactive to the even smallest of sounds whether they be from mammal, bird or whatever.Near the finish the terrain became loose and rocky; I dialled my suspension and let the bike crest over the rocks, the dried up river-beds and the occasional tree root. The riding here was supreme.Using the whole breadth of the trail to find the best line, I came across Helen, the race organiser hammering her way toward me in a 4wd, clearly enjoying the challenge of negotiating the terrain in a beaten up Range Rover. A quick exchange and she informed me I was close to the finish.I arrived to find Alex, sitting under a twig of a tree waiting for the gear truck and his massage tent to arrive. In the distance we could see the truck ‘temporarily misplaced’ on a nearby hilltop. We couldn’t help but laugh.

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Day 4 dawned. I was still feeling pretty good, probably owing to the training camp I’d done with ‘Cowbell Coaching’. What I hadn’t realised was the toughest days were to come. The

distances of the stages didn’t really reflect the level of exertion required. Often it was the ambient temperature that was the most taxing variable. Collectively, we had all thought day three was going to be the hardest stage. How wrong we were. In an effort to avoid riding in the hottest part of the day we’d decided as a group to begin stage four earlier than the previous day.

Day four would cover 51kms with 1409 metres of climbing but beginning with a 15 kilometre descent worthy of any enduro series race. It was important to keep the straight line speed in check so as not to get caught out by the loose rocks and sandy steep corners. I drifted wide a few times on the track and snuck a peak out over the Tassia Conservatory, another epic view. It was easy to imagine prehistoric man cruising about the plains, spear in hand.

Eventually we reached the bottom of the descent and found ourselves grouped with the South African riders and James from England, now riding on his own. Despite feeling fatigued I egged the others on, pushing the pace. I was wary of our limited fluids and wanted to make of the most of the temporary reprieve the sun was giving us by hiding behind the clouds.

Having plunged onto the plateau, we now faced a 20 kilometre climb to get back to the camp. As we reached the base of the climb the sun broke free and the temperature hit 36 degrees. This was suffering at its best. I was in my element!

Part way up the climb Tere and I regrouped with James. We rationed what precious little water we had. I’m sure the birds were circling overhead again. Not long after we heard the whirr of a motorbike engine and a few minutes later Kevin the cameraman arrived and replenished our supplies. I was gob-smacked to see he was wearing a heavy leather jacket. We joked it probably helped he was born with 60+ Zulu sun protection embedded in his skin.

Reaching the top, we traversed the flats, and past a school. Waving out at the children was greeted with a mix of cautious apprehension and elation as we high-fived them on the way through.

After a final short rocky descent we crossed the finish line with James in tow. The Little Pesos were glad to be home.

Day five and I could feel the effect of the previous day’s efforts. During the previous night’s dinner I’d broken my rules and had a glass (or three) of red wine. This may have affected my level of sprightliness that morning.

Day five traced our way back to Mount Kenya, a distance of 71kms with 735 metres of climbing. The stage beginning at 1700m above sea level and ending at 2600m. We began on the murram roads through the Borana Conservancy. Along the roadside we saw the great vibrant colours of the Masai children in their brightly coloured clothing. We passed through several small villages and two lakes.

Though feeling fatigued I wanted to push hard for the finish so I took off, chasing Kevin on the motorbike.

Before entering forested singletrack I reached a feed zone. This was

near the halfway point and I’m sure the smile on my face belied just how knackered I was feeling. I pleaded to the gods for Coke and as luck would have it, it was forthcoming. Casting aside temptation to skull the whole bottle, I left some for my team-mate and the other riders. The rich sugary goodness of the Coke kicked in and I felt my system come back online. I pedalled hard through flowing descents and into darkened forested singletrack.

In the forest there were small groups of people gathering sticks. At one point a group of kids waved their sticks enthusiastically whilst running beside me. It reminded me of the Masai tribesmen who had waved their sharpened machetes at me - there was no escaping the genuine friendliness of these people.

Near the finish there was a short hike-a-bike section. The forested landscape had now given way and I began to enter farmed land. Bordering the farms were fields of eye level sugar cane and a twisty path where you really had to keep focused.

On a dirt road between the farms I enthusiastically took my hands from the bars yelling “jambo” at some kids. This was really poor timing as my front wheel hit a big corrugation in the road and I went down, hard and awkwardly. The kids thought this was hilarious. Once I’d composed myself we all stood around in fits of laughter. I shared with them what sugary treats I had left in my pockets. Upon reflection, I’m glad I fell - otherwise this moment wouldn’t have happened.

Shortly after, I arrived at finish line. This had been the best of the riding so far in terms of the variety of terrain we’d covered in the stage. Despite not being a huge distance it had taken me almost four hours to complete.

Day 6 - the final stage, a short 25kms on forested singletrack.

The course ran in a circular loop which we would complete twice. I was keen to ride the first loop at time trial pace, and then regroup with Tere for the final loop so we could cross the finish line together. We both got a little misplaced at the end of the first loop and met up just before entering the manicured lawns of the Mt Kenya Safari Club. We crossed the finish line together; arms aloft, the sense of accomplishment was huge.

The Laikipia XC was more than just a bike race. It was a life experience and safari rolled into one. Special thanks to Helen Kinuthia and all her crew. The event organisation was second to none and the volunteer crew extremely friendly and helpful throughout.

With luck, we are hoping ‘The Little Pesos’ will be on start-line again in 2015.

Editor’s note: “One thing Justin forgot to mention is his placing in the Laikipia XC Marathon. He and race-partner Tere Croft were the overall winners of the event. Congrats Justin and Tere”.

Go to mid-ego.blogspot.com to see more amazing photos of the race and the area. To find out more about the Laikipia XC and to book your spot for the 2015 race go to www.laikipiaxc.com.

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