We’d heard rumors of the unique beauty of Lake Natron, but no casual conversation would prepare us for what the morning sun revealed beyond our camp. It’s a fantasy land. Rugged, gorgeous and isolated would describe both the geography and the tribes it nurtures. Enormous volcanoes dominate the horizons and sloping down from the cloudy summits are ancient lava flows marked with hot springs that bubble into the alkaline lake.

Only 10 feet at it’s deepest point, the 25 mile long alkaline lake’s caustic environment discourages predators from threatening it’s primary residents, the Flamingo. Lake Natron hosts the only breeding ground in East Africa for 2.5 million Lesser Flamingos and they’re not hard to find…

Flamingos always seem to turn up in the strangest of places. Aside from classy American lawn decor, I’ve seen Flamingos on half frozen lakes at over 10,000’ in Peru and on the shores of the Pacific. Here in Tanzania they were happily scooping for algae in a lake caustic to most animals and enjoying air temperatures of 104 deg F.

Although the lake itself doesn’t support much animal life beyond the flamingo, the surrounding terrain and natural springs draw in antelope, giraffe, baboons, zebra, wildebeest and many more. Even the occasional lion wanders in to hunt antelope and keep the local Masai villagers on their toes.

This is Masai country! It’s their territory and one doesn’t just wander around in it as an outsider where people still carry swords and spears. We paid a community fee to the nearby village leadership for permission to camp. Also required by the village, was a local guide to explore the area. Like us, most adventure bikers steer clear of areas with regulations that might infringe on their freedom to explore, fees and required guides being a significant infringement. The reality of it is that in Tanzania you’re not going anywhere without a fee and if the locals want you to have a guide, sometimes you don’t have a choice. In this case, we were assigned a guide from the local village and he was awesome. He was an infinite source of information on the local area and most importantly a link to the local population. He was our “in” for Natron.

During our 24 hour stay at Lake Natron, we put some serious miles in on foot. The obvious first step was to explore the lakeshore near our camp. Wading through the weird salt pools and alkaline mud, our guide, Lukus, showed us the best spot to see the flamingo flocks and pointed out their nests.

Later that afternoon, realizing the futility of closed toed shoes, we hung our boots up to dry in camp and switched to sandals for some local canyoneering. Again, it was Lukus that the made it possible, showing us where to cross the river, which rock faces to traverse and which cavern to swim into without being washed over a waterfall.

Wading, swimming and scrambling behind Lucas we pushed upriver to a cavern that was curtained by a waterfall. Passing beneath the falling fresh water fall, we swam into the deep pool of swiftly flowing salt water that supposedly originates from Ngorongoro crater. This was as far as we could push as we didn’t have any ropes on hand and the daylight was fading. We will be back for this one. Hopefully before Laura Croft’s next tomb raider crew tries to shoot their next film here.

The day with Lukus, wandering among the flamingos of Natron, visiting with the Masai and swimming among hidden waterfalls was an awesome change of pace from our usual motorbike bound adventures. However, throughout our day, I couldn’t help but become enamored with one massive volcano peering down on us from it’s lofty heights.

What if??? Katelyn and I talked it over with our guide and he seemed keen to facilitate the endeavor! Ol Donya Lengai is still revered as a god by some local Masai and understandably so (“Ol Donya Lengai” translates to mountain of the god in Masai language). The active volcano had blown it’s top just 9 years ago, spilling fire, ash and lava onto the savannah below. It still bellows forth a nearly constant rumble from it’s new crater and leaks steam and gases from it’s summit. We worked it out with the local village leadership, greased the wheels a bit and ultimately secured permission to climb.

We’d stayed up late sorting kit and prepping a paraglider while battling a mean swarm of mosquitos that had moved in on us for dinner…their dinner. As we bedded down for a few hours sleep, strong weather moved in and slammed our tent with gusts of wind and rain. Conditions for a climb and fly were looking grim as my watch alarm buzzed at 11:30 PM. Starbucks instant coffee brightened the night and the three of us enjoyed a cup before setting off at midnight.

It was our guide that insisted on the early start. He wanted us to catch the sunrise on the summit and avoid scrambling down lava flows in the searing midday temps. This made sense, especially since I was packing a glider in the unlikely case the weather improved. Ascending under headlamp, the hike transitioned into a scramble as we squeezed through rocky gullies cut in the lava flows. This was an engaging and interesting mountain to climb! While not really technical, it was airy hands-on scrambling near the summit with real consequences in certain spots if you slipped. I’d compare it to the Longs Peak Key Hole Route in Colorado.

We found ourselves ascending too quickly and at risk of summiting long before the sun was up. So we snuggled into our puffy jackets and hunkered down in a ravine for a few hours sleep. As dawn approached, we were back at it ascending the last bit to the summit. Nearing the top, I couldn’t help but notice that the steam emitting from numerous cracks and fissures around us was drifting strait up. This hinted that the wind had subsided and my pulse quickened as I sensed a summit flight was quickly becoming a reality. Under the mornings first rays of light, we popped over the crater rim at just over 10,000’ in perfect conditions.

I’ve seen some big gaping craters before to include Orizaba and Cotopaxi. However, this one really tops it off! It may not be adorned in ancient glaciers and rise to lofty heights above 18,000’, but Oldonya Lengai boasts the deepest meanest crater I’ve ever seen!

A catwalk of a rim surrounds a massive hole that drops away several hundred feet below to a crater floor pockmarked by steam vents and active lava flows. A constant rumbling and popping noise emits from the crater discouraging us mortal visitors from loitering too long on the “Mountain of God”. Our guide was looking half frozen and a little nervous as he patiently waited for me as I ran around the summit looking for the best launch option.

He wasn’t the only nervous one. Regardless of how many times you do it, flying bits of sail cloth off of mountains never gets boring. The unworldly reward of flying comes at the price of fear management. With airy exposure on two sides matched with steam jets belching up from the underworld, this launch took a good deal of focus. Our guide, who’d never witnessed freeflight before, was wide eyed and looked on in apparent horror as I coaxed the wing off the volcanic rock, pulled it overhead and stepped into the void.

I accelerated away from the rim and down the mountain, flying between two lava pinnacles, until I gained enough speed to level out with maximum glide. Katelyn’s 16m mini wing carried me effortlessly in smooth air 5,000′ over the savannah floor. Taking advantage of the smooth conditions, I swung back towards the volcano to contour it’s steep terrain and explore it’s rugged beauty from the sky. There’s something special about sailing alone through crisp morning air high above Africa. Its this sort of adventure medium that fires up all our nerve endings, ignites your spirit and opens your mind to the incredible world around us.

As the suns rays chased the mist and morning shadows off the mountain, the first bit of turbulence began to nudge at my canopy. Heeding the sign, I leaned off to one side of my harness and steered away from the mountain aiming for open airspace.

Meanwhile, Katelyn and Lukus were coming down the hard way. With vision no longer limited to headlight beam, Katelyn got to see what she’d climbed up during the night.

A couple hours later we all linked up at the base of the mountain, where I’d been dutifully holding down a piece of shade for several hours. Katelyn reminded me that I only climbed half the mountain 😊. Having been roaming around all night on a volcano, we probably could have used a rest day, however, the anticipation of the route ahead and whether we’d actually be able to pull off the “smuggler’s route” to Kenya was luring us forward. Time to put the last remaining bits of our tire tread to work!