Recapping the last post, Kerry and I went for a day to trip into the Rift Valley to go hiking in Hell's Gate National Park. We saw numerous wildlife and completed our first successful rock climb. Now we were headed to the main event, the Hell's Gate Gorge Trail.
As I mentioned in the last post, neither of us had done much research on this place, relying instead on vague word-of-mouth recommendations from colleagues. We knew there was a big hiking trail in the park but had no idea its length, it's difficulty, or most importantly, where in the park it was located. Jimmy said he had been there the week before, so we relied on him to at least get us to the trail head. The entrance to the trail had a nice rest area, complete with picnic area and washrooms. We had to pay another entrance, which, to our surprise, included the use of one of the park's guides--a young Masai tribesmen--to walk with us for the duration and answer any questions we might have. The trail led us mostly through a dry river bed at the bottom of gorge. The scenery was spectacular.
Despite the intermittent rain, there were a lot of people out on the trail. Kerry noted that there were quite a few local Kenyans out hiking and that the park was not overrun exclusive with Western and Asian tourists, as is the case with many parks not just in Kenya, but throughout the continent. While we debated the rise of the Kenyan middle class we heard in the distance the sound of running water and of footsteps hurriedly coming toward us. Rounding a bend in the river bed we encountered three people running from the direction we were headed and shouting, "the water is coming!" These are definitely the words any hiker walking a dry river bed encased by 75-foot walls fears. Our Masai tribesman bravely ran on ahead and came running back to inform us that we still had time to view the waterfall if we hurried. And thus, the river of death that our fellow hikers had convinced us was bearing down on us turned out to be a false alarm.
But all the same, we backtracked and head down the second fork in the gorge that would take us to the end of the trail. Our guide early in the walk told us that the gorge contained numerous hot springs--in fact, the nearby town of Maji Moto means hot spring in Swahili--and we finally found one jetting through a crack in the wall. He also told us the filmed part of Laura Croft, Tomb Raider there, too.
The hike, inevitably, concluded with a steep ascent out of the gorge onto high ground that meet up with a road that would lead back to the trail head. Along the road were four Masai tribesmen selling necklaces, rungas (Masai clubs), spears, and Masai blankets. We passed on the souvenirs and walked back to the car and began our next quest, which was looking for lunch. Jimmy said he knew a place in the nearest town of Naivasha, which was on the way back to Nairobi but right by Lake Naivasha, famous for being home to Hippos and a lot of flamingos. We sat down at yet another British colonial-era club, this one called the Labelle Inn, and ate a well-earned lunch.
We didn't feel much like sitting on a boat trolling Lake Naivasha for Hippos following our meal,besides, it looked like it was going to rain--and it poured on our drive back--so we called it a day and headed back to Nairobi. Definitely a great day trip and one that we can't wait to go back and do it again.
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