Running on no sleep and armed with a few cryptic directions from our Masai guide, we headed in the general direction of Kenya. The track was stunning! It skirted the lake shore, teeming with flamingos and other exotic critters.

The few Masai we encountered, moving their cattle along the road, were certainly confused by our presence, but always gave us a very friendly wave as we rode by.

The road changed constantly from rock to dirt, to mud, then to dry lake bed with a few small water crossings in between.

We now understood why the route had not been visible on google earth or our GPS devices. In many places, there really wasn’t a road in the traditional sense of the word. With the seasons, the path probably changed constantly . We used the most recent tracks as a guide, but our riding options across the open terrain were infinite. Just pick a line and race across the landscape! The views were spectacular with Lake Natron to our right and the giant Rift Valley walls to our left.

For the first few hours the riding was technical, but fast, and we had high hopes now that this “ghost road” would work out in our favor.

However, as daylight began to wane, the road became more technical, until finally, we lost our track altogether. The road disappeared, swallowed by the lake and mud from recent rains erasing any sign of traffic that had passed this way before us. The road became nothing but a muddy inlet that seemed to have no end.

We spent some time searching for a way forward, but darkness caught up with us. We decided this spot was going to be home for the night. The search for our road North would have to continue in the morning.

Wondering if this was the end of the route for us and hoping we wouldn’t have to backtrack hundreds of miles to the typical border post at Namanga, we went to sleep listening to a symphony of baboons, whose screeches echoed eerily off the valley walls.