“It’s cheap. If it breaks, I’ll just buy another motorcycle bag.” It sounds easier than saving a little longer and buying something better. But the old bag does not disappear, and neither does the money spent replacing it.

At Turkana, we could have made the business decision to compete at the low end of the market, where price is the main selling point. Use low-quality PVC and cheaper materials, make it look like quality, low-budget manufacturing and sell it at a price that makes replacing it seem painless. When it fails, hopefully the customer comes back and buys another one.
We choose not to go that route.

A low price can eventually bite much harder. Poor materials and low-budget workmanship make something cheaper today, but not when you have to buy it again next year. Multiplied across millions of purchases, that thinking has created a wasteful culture where we buy cheaply, use things briefly and throw them away without much thought about where they end up.

We want no part of that culture.

This is why quality-made motorcycle gear is better value over time.

Make it proper and worth keeping. It’s really that simple. Use the hell out of your gear, care for it and repair it when necessary. If you can still strap it to a motorcycle years from now, we have achieved our goal.
That does not mean a product must remain pristine. Luggage that has crossed countries, been baked in the sun, rained on and dragged around campsites will show its age. We do not expect a ten-year-old bag to look showroom-new. We expect it to keep doing its job.

Cheap is not the same as good value

When a budget product rips apart on a trip or falls apart after a few uses, the bargain becomes considerably less impressive. You replace it and eventually replace the replacement. Before long, being cheap has become an expensive habit.
Real value is better measured over years than at the till. A $200 product replaced four times is not necessarily better value than a $600 product still working years later. A cheap product that fails is not a bargain. It is an instalment on the next one. And the next one…

The waste does not disappear

Throwing something away does not make it vanish. It simply moves somewhere we no longer have to look at it. The global clothing industry gives us an ugly example of where this thinking leads. Large quantities of unwanted clothing are exported from wealthier countries. Some of it gets a genuine second life, making clothing affordable and supporting livelihoods. The problem is not second-hand clothing, but rather clothing made so badly that it cannot have a useful second life. It is clothing made so badly that it cannot have a useful second life.

Ghana’s Kantamanto market shows both sides of the story. Some of the imported clothing is resold, but the damaged and badly made stuff still has to go somewhere. The United Nations Environment Programme is working with Ghana, Kenya and other countries on the challenges surrounding the international used textile trade.

In Chile, discarded clothing has accumulated in the Atacama Desert. Something bought for one season can become pollution for generations. And that’s after using raw materials, energy and fuel to manufacture something and ship it halfway around the world, only for it to be worn a handful of times and thrown away.

Made to be used

Turkana gear is supposed to get dirty. It should be strapped to motorcycles, covered in dust, baked in unrelenting sun and taken down roads that looked considerably better on the map.

Fabric fades, webbing gets filthy and bags collect scars from thousands of kilometres of travel. Repairs may eventually become part of the product. None of that bothers us if it still does its job.

We are equally uninterested in trends that make useful products feel obsolete. Good motorcycle luggage should not become obsolete just because this year’s fashionable colour has changed or you have bought another bike. This is one reason we emphasise modularity in our motorcycle adventure soft luggage. When you change motorcycles, your luggage should be able to come with you.

This is not about buying expensive stuff

Good gear costs money, and we know not everyone can choose the best option every time. Our problem is not with someone buying what they can afford. It is with an industry that normalises disposable products because selling you another one next year is good business.

Expensive and well-made are not the same thing either. A fancy logo and an impressive price do not guarantee quality. What matters is whether something is made properly and can take years of actual use. And when something eventually wears out, you should be able to repair it instead of throwing the whole thing away.

The Turkana standard

We want the weathered old bag still strapped to a motorcycle years later, perhaps after being repaired once or twice. We want the saddlebags that move from the old bike to the new one instead of being discarded whenever the motorcycle changes.

Making products this way is not always the cheapest option for us. Better materials cost more. Proper stitching takes time. Reinforcing the places we know will take abuse adds work. We accept that because the alternative is making gear we would not want to travel with ourselves.

Our job is not finished when somebody pays for a product. We have to think about what happens after thousands of kilometres of corrugations, bad roads, dust, rain, falls and relentless UV exposure. When something eventually does wear or break, can it be fixed rather than thrown away?
Those questions matter more than convincing you to buy another bag next year. We would rather make one good product worth keeping than sell the same bad product five times.

That’s the gear we want to make. Made for your life. Built to outlive it.

The post Durable Motorcycle Gear Is Better for Your Wallet and the Planet appeared first on Turkana Motorcycle Adventure Gear.

For many years, we have explored Southern Africa, sometimes by 4×4 overlanding but predominantly by adventure enduro motorcycles. That adventurous spirit eventually gave birth to Wild & Moto Media, a platform through which we share our journeys in various forms of overlanding, discover remarkable places, and occasionally capture the stories and images of adventure events through the lens of photography.

Yet, some journeys remain unfinished chapters for us; Kaokoland, Van Zyl’s Pass and the Marienfluss had long occupied that space. It was a challenge we had spoken about for years, one that slowly evolved from a dream into a plan. More importantly, it represented the closing of a chapter we had hoped to complete together.

As we left Johannesburg and pointed our vehicle northwest towards Botswana and Namibia, the planning gave way to reality. Fourteen days, thousands of kilometres and countless memories later, we would return with a deeper appreciation for the landscapes of Kaokoland, a healthy respect for Van Zyl’s Pass, and renewed confidence in both our machines and the equipment that carried our lives across some of Southern Africa’s most demanding terrain.

What followed was more than a New Year’s trip; it became the culmination of years of dreaming, planning and exploring — and ultimately a journey that reminded us why we ride in the first place.

Day 1 – Heading West

The wait was finally over; months of planning, route discussions, maps, and dreams gave way to an early departure from Johannesburg. Kang, Botswana, would be our first overnight stop on the road to Windhoek and eventually Kaokoland. Border formalities at Skilpadshek proved less painful than expected, although two motorcycles on a trailer caused enough confusion among officials to briefly bring proceedings to a standstill before common sense prevailed and the paperwork was stamped.

Botswana welcomed us with unexpected potholes around Kanye and persistent rain. Beyond that, the roads opened up and the kilometres slipped by easily. By late afternoon we rolled into Kang, where cold beer and a warm meal marked the beginning of the trip. The only thing with more endurance than an adventure rider proved to be the local mosquitoes, which ensured that sleep would remain somewhat elusive.

Day 2 – Chasing Blue Skies

Clouds and rain remained our travelling companions as we continued towards Windhoek. Yet the weather had transformed both Botswana and Namibia. Landscapes normally associated with dust and drought had become green and alive, and neither of us complained about the overcast conditions.

Once in Windhoek, the support vehicle was unloaded, and attention shifted to the bikes. Luggage was secured, final checks completed and anticipation steadily built. The tar roads had done their job; tomorrow the adventure would truly begin.

Day 3 – Finding Our Rhythm

The cool morning air around Windhoek made for a pleasant start, but Namibia quickly reminded us that recent rains had changed the game. Corrugations, mud, standing water and riverbeds showed evidence of flash floods that had swept through only days before.

The route towards Omaruru and Vingerklip provided spectacular scenery and abundant wildlife, and somewhere between the river crossings and the rocky two-spoor tracks we began to find our rhythm. There was chaos at first. Riding gear, luggage and gravel all seemed to have their own opinions, but eventually the kilometres started flowing.

By the time we reached Khorixas, temperatures had climbed to 35 degrees, and we realised something important: being fit and being riding fit are two completely different things. Tomorrow, Namibia would raise the stakes.

Day 4 – Welcome to Namibia

Leaving Khorixas, we knew the warm-up was over. The wide gravel roads soon narrowed into two-spoor tracks before eventually introducing us to Elephant Trail, Khowarib and later Klein Serengeti. Over the next 160 kilometres, rocks, sand, riverbeds and fesh-fesh slowly replaced the easy rhythm we had found the previous day.

Temperatures climbed relentlessly, eventually pushing beyond 44 degrees. Progress slowed, and the kilometres became hard-earned. Somewhere along the route, an elephant skeleton lying next to the track served as a reminder that this is a harsh environment where nature sets the rules.

By the time we reached Sesfontein, our fun meters were full. The original camping plans had disappeared long before, and with daylight fading, we found ourselves searching for a place to spend the night.

Eventually, a quiet spot in the bush became home. A small fire, a cup of coffee and the sounds of the African night were all we needed. Unknowingly, the day had prepared us perfectly for what still lay ahead.

Day 5 – Gathering Strength

After the punishment of the previous day, we allowed ourselves a slower start. Twelve hours in the saddle and a night under canvas had taken their toll, and for the first time since leaving Windhoek, there was no urgency.

The ride north towards Ruacana proved to be a welcome change of pace. Mountains and open landscapes accompanied us to Opuwo, where fuel and a quick meal replenished both bikes and riders. From there, the tar road carried us to Ruacana and eventually to Ryacana Campsite, a hidden gem tucked away in the bush overlooking the Kunene River valley.

For the remainder of the afternoon, life slowed down. Mud was washed off the bikes, chains were serviced, clothes were cleaned and luggage was reorganised. The simplicity of camp life returned and, with a pair of well-deserved T-bone steaks on the fire, spirits rose again. But beneath the relaxation, we knew this was more than just another overnight stop, tomorrow, the journey would enter a different chapter.

Epupa Falls, Van Zyl’s Pass and the remoteness of Kaokoland lay ahead. Fuel would become scarce, water precious and distances measured not in kilometres, but in hours. As darkness settled over the valley and the fire burnt low, we checked the bikes one last time and packed with purpose. The next three days would become the heart of the journey.

Day 6 – The Road Nobody Talks About

Leaving Ruacana, we followed the old border road alongside the Kunene River towards Epupa Falls. After the previous day’s rest, both body and mind felt recharged, and the easy pace along the river made it difficult to imagine what lay ahead.

Recent rains had transformed the Kunene into a powerful river. Flood marks stood high in the trees, and the falls themselves thundered through the gorge beneath ancient baobabs. Camp Cornie offered a welcome stop and a cold beer overlooking the river before we continued to Epupa Falls, where swollen waters provided one of the most spectacular sights of the journey.

After topping up fuel at Okangwati, we set off towards Van Zyl’s campsite, seventy kilometres away. Seventy kilometres – it sounded simple enough; it wasn’t. The track immediately deteriorated into a mixture of sand, rocks and rough two-spoor. Progress slowed. Temperatures climbed beyond 40 degrees, and the terrain became increasingly hostile. Downhills littered with loose rocks forced us off the bikes and onto our feet. At times it felt as though every kilometre demanded complete concentration.

The landscape became wilder, the mountains steeper and the rocks larger. Somewhere along the route, exhaustion slowly replaced excitement. Then came one of the greatest blessings of the entire journey: a cattle borehole. Friendly locals switched on the pump, and we drank deeply, replenishing every bottle and hydration pack we had. At that moment, fresh water was worth far more than fuel.

Eventually, after nearly twelve hours in the saddle, we rolled into Van Zyl’s campsite. Dinner was simple, conversation minimal, and sleep came easily. Tomorrow we would finally meet the pass everyone talks about; little did we know that the hardest work had already begun.

Day 7 – The Heart of Kaokoland

The morning started quietly; a guinea fowl announced the dawn, and the cool air along the river brought welcome relief. Ahead lay twelve kilometres of road that have become legendary amongst overlanders and adventure riders alike. On paper, it didn’t seem intimidating. Reality had other ideas.

Loose rocks, steep descents and technical sections demanded patience more than bravery. Several times the motorcycles had to be switched off and carefully walked down rocky slopes. Momentum was important, but so was knowing when to stop and help each other.

Ironically, the famous descent seen in countless YouTube videos proved less intimidating than some of the sections leading to it. Slowly, metre by metre, the valley floor came closer, and then, suddenly, it was over. The relief was enormous, but the day was far from done.

Ahead lay the Marienfluss, stretching into the distance beneath towering mountains. Beautiful, remote and unforgiving, it offered a different kind of challenge. Corrugations, sand and temperatures approaching 46 degrees steadily drained what little energy remained.

Then came Joubert’s Pass. By now, the appetite for rocks had long disappeared, but the mountain had one final lesson to teach. Slowly and carefully we picked our way through the pass before eventually descending into the valley below.

When Marble Camp appeared in the early afternoon, it felt like an oasis. Cold Coke, cold beer, shade and the kindness of strangers, never had simple things felt so luxurious with Van Zyl’s Pass and Joubert’s Pass behind us. And somewhere between the rocks, the heat and the exhaustion, we realised that the reward had never been the pass itself.

It had been the journey to get there.

Day 8 – Fuel and Perspective

After the previous day’s battle through Van Zyl’s Pass and Joubert’s Pass, simply riding in fourth and fifth gear again felt like a luxury. Bodies were stiff, knees sore and the accumulated fatigue of the previous days still very much present, but the mood had changed. The major challenge was behind us, and we could finally allow ourselves to absorb the vastness of Kaokoland.

The morning started with more sand and rocks, as if Namibia wanted one final reminder that easy kilometres are earned in this part of the world. Fortunately, the D3702 eventually brought relief, and the motorcycles settled into a more comfortable rhythm. Fuel consumption improved, and for the first time in days, we found ourselves simply enjoying the ride rather than focusing on the next obstacle.

And what a landscape it was! Wide plains stretched towards distant mountains, grasslands met desert sand, and the endless horizons made us appreciate just how remote this corner of Namibia truly is. Along the way we came across several stone mannetjies standing silently in the wilderness, their origin unknown but somehow perfectly at home in the landscape.

Fuel, however, remained the theme of the day. Puros provided relief, while Sesfontein delivered uncertainty when the pumps stood dry. Eventually, with a little help from the locals and a measure of patience, we secured enough fuel to continue south.

By the time Palmwag appeared on the horizon, one motorcycle had barely sixty kilometres of range remaining. It was a small reminder that in remote places, plans often take second place to circumstances. After days of dust, heat and hard riding, Palmwag Lodge offered something equally valuable — a hot shower, a proper meal and a comfortable bed. Luxury is a relative thing, and that evening it felt absolutely wonderful.

Day 9 – Learning to Slow Down

Palmwag marked a change in tempo. The objectives we had dreamed about for years were behind us. Van Zyl’s Pass, the Marienfluss and Joubert’s Pass had become memories rather than challenges still waiting ahead of them. For the first time since leaving Windhoek, there was no pressure to reach somewhere or to prove anything.

We allowed ourselves a slow breakfast and deliberately chose the easier roads toward Brandberg. Recent rains had transformed the landscape and provided beautiful contrasts between green plains, dark mountains and dramatic skies. Corrugations remained part of the journey, but after Kaokoland they felt almost insignificant.

A brief stop near Twyfelfontein and the Burnt Mountain provided an opportunity to stretch our legs and enjoy something cold before continuing south. Eventually, a different D-road tempted us away from the main route, and soon enough we found ourselves back on two-spoor tracks, following a riverbed toward Brandberg White Lady Lodge.

Neither of us had much appetite for more sand and rocks, but the scenery more than compensated. With Brandberg rising ahead of us and the late afternoon sun softening the landscape, the final kilometres passed easily. White Lady Lodge proved to be the perfect place to slow down. The rustic tents, a proper shower and a relaxed evening around good food reminded us that recovery is also part of adventure.

Looking back, we realised that while difficult roads create memories, it is often the quieter moments in between that give a journey its meaning. Tomorrow, we will make our way to a place that has always held a special place in our hearts — Spitzkoppe.

Day 10 – Returning to Spitzkoppe

After two days of rest at Brandberg White Lady Lodge, we were ready for the short ride south to Spitzkoppe. Since our first overlanding journey in 2017, the granite peaks have held a special place in our hearts. There is something about Spitzkoppe that brings calm. It is a place that reminds you how small you are in the grand scheme of things, while at the same time allowing you to appreciate the raw beauty that Namibia offers so effortlessly.

Recent rains had transformed the landscape yet again. Green grass stood in contrast to the ancient granite formations, and under overcast skies the ride south unfolded at an easy pace. Even after our rest days, the accumulated fatigue of Kaokoland was still present. We had reached the point where concentration in technical sections required effort and where the body quietly reminded us of the previous weeks.

By late morning we arrived at Spitzkoppe, but rather than immediately searching for a campsite, we headed for the community restaurant and enjoyed a few cold beers while reflecting on the roads already travelled. There was an unspoken realisation between us that the journey was slowly drawing to an end.

Later that afternoon, once the worst of the heat had passed, we ventured towards the southern side of the reserve. A few kilometres beyond the old graveyard, we found exactly what we were looking for — a quiet campsite with spectacular views and complete solitude.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent wandering among the granite formations with cameras in hand, enjoying the scenery and taking in every last moment. As darkness settled over the mountains, we prepared supper and sat quietly beneath the stars.

With Spitzkoppe casting its shadow over camp, it felt like the perfect ending to an unforgettable adventure. Tomorrow we would return to Windhoek.

Day 11 – Closing the Chapter

It does not happen often, but we allowed ourselves the luxury of sleeping until 07:30. A light shower during the night had left the tent damp, and there was no urgency. Coffee was made, and, unusually for us, very little was said.

Part of us wanted another day on the road, another campfire, another destination, another sunrise somewhere in Namibia. The other part looked forward to Windhoek and the comfort of a proper bed. If we are honest, the greater part wanted to stay and continue riding.

Eventually camp came down for the last time, and we headed towards Windhoek. The final gravel roads, which only days before would have demanded our full attention, now felt almost effortless. Somewhere during the previous two weeks, without really noticing, we had adapted.

Halfway to Windhoek, a padstal and some Geelveld biltong provided one last excuse to delay the inevitable. Eventually, though, the city appeared on the horizon. Back at the lodge, we loaded the motorcycles and spent the afternoon resting before sharing dinner with Petra, who had faithfully watched over our vehicle while we explored Namibia.

Heading home felt good, but it also marked the closing of a chapter. Looking back, we realised that the journey had become far more than a New Year’s trip through Namibia. Together, we had reached what we considered the pinnacle of adventure riding — completing Van Zyl’s Pass, Marienfluss and Joubert’s Pass unsupported on heavily loaded motorcycles.

Yet the greatest reward was never the passes, the photographs or the kilometres; it was sharing the experience together. Because one day the dust is washed off the bikes, the gear is packed away and life returns to normal, but some roads remain with you and long after the journey ends, they quietly begin calling you back.

The next chapter is already loading – mid-2026 awaits.

Packing for the Unknown

Adventure riding has a way of exposing poor decisions. Carry too much and the bike becomes difficult to manage. Carry too little and you quickly discover what you left behind. The challenge is finding the balance between comfort and self-sufficiency, especially when the route ahead is measured in days rather than kilometres.

For this journey, simplicity became the guiding principle. Both KTM 890 Rallys were fitted with Turkana Gear’s MadMules rackless system. The bulk of our equipment was carried in a pair of 15-litre Turkana bags mounted to the MadMules, while separate 5-litre bags housed the technical essentials. Two 20-litre duffel bags completed the luggage setup and carried our camping equipment, clothing and personal items.

The arrangement allowed us to separate living necessities from technical necessities — a small detail that proved invaluable as the days unfolded. Clothing was intentionally kept simple. A few changes of clothes, base layers, rain gear and camp shoes were all that made the cut. Space was reserved for the things that mattered most: water, food and tools.

The technical bags carried everything needed to keep the motorcycles moving — tubes, tyre levers, pumps, a chain breaker, spare bolts, filters, oils and a carefully assembled tool roll. Nothing excessive, just the essentials built up over years of riding and travelling across Southern Africa. They also housed those items you hope never to use but are grateful to have when the unexpected happens.

Food was basic and functional. Coffee, gas cartridges, ration packs and enough supplies to remain self-sufficient when the nearest town or campsite was still many hours away. Water, however, received special attention. In Kaokoland, fuel can usually be found eventually. Water is not always guaranteed.

Over eleven days, thousands of kilometres, endless corrugations, sand, rocks, river crossings and temperatures ranging from cool mornings to 46°C afternoons, the luggage simply did its job.

No shifting loads, no broken straps, no drama. Perhaps that is the greatest compliment one can give adventure equipment. By the end of the trip, the Turkana Gear bags had become part of the motorcycles themselves — quietly carrying our lives across some of Southern Africa’s most demanding terrain while allowing us to focus on what really mattered.

The journey ahead.

About the Authors

With a lifelong connection to nature and the outdoors, I have spent many years exploring Southern Africa, sometimes by 4×4, but predominantly by motorcycle. Through Wild & Moto Media, these journeys have found expression in stories and photographs that seek to capture not only the places themselves but also the emotions and experiences that come with travelling through them.

My journey began behind the lens as a freelance sports photographer, and I still return to that world whenever the opportunity arises. Motorcycles, however, have become far more than a subject to photograph. They have become a way of exploring landscapes, meeting people and experiencing the quieter side of adventure.

Together with Ezelda, we continue to explore Southern Africa in various forms of overlanding. Ezelda, who represented South Africa at the International GS Trophy in Mongolia in 2018, is a phenomenal rider and adventurer in her own right, whether behind the wheel of a 4×4 or in the saddle of a motorcycle. Over the years, we have shared countless journeys, believing that adventure is not measured by distance travelled, but by the experiences shared and the stories that remain long after the dust has settled.

Nature remains our refuge, while motorcycles provide the means to reach places where the ordinary gives way to something more meaningful. The camera has become a companion rather than the destination — a way of preserving the moments found between the dust, the light and the uncertainty that accompany every journey.

Wild & Moto Media is simply the expression of that journey.
– Callie & Ezelda

Copyright ©WildMotoMedia. All photographs, text and content featured in this article remain the property of the authors unless otherwise stated. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced, distributed or used in any form without prior written permission from the copyright owners.

The post Two Weeks, Two KTM Adv motorcycles, and the Long Road to Kaokoland – Namibia appeared first on Turkana Motorcycle Adventure Gear.

We are Mia & Max, and with our two travel companions (currently two Honda CRF 300Ls), we love to throw ourselves into adventure. We love travelling on small roads, discovering other countries and cultures, and letting ourselves be captivated by this wonderful planet called Earth, with all the beauty, diversity and challenges that this can sometimes bring.

In 2022, we rode from Hamburg (Germany) to Tehran (Iran) and back on a BMW F650ST and a Honda Transalp. Chronically overloaded, we filled every millimetre of the Turkana HippoHips. This included more than three pairs of trousers, chocolate and unnecessary items in the ‘better to have than need’ category.

We quickly realised that our possibly somewhat excessive luggage also posed challenges off-road, and it didn’t take long before we ended up on our sides with the heavy bikes. The HippoHips stood by our side, cushioned the fall, allowed us to crawl out from under the motorbike effortlessly and were a reliable and robust companion.

With the switch to the small CRFs, it was time for a change – we opted for the 15-litre version of the MadMules. With the smaller bags, we had to reduce our load, and it worked!
Because, as described above, it usually looked as if we had a support vehicle or at least a mule for our luggage. (Maybe Turkana chose the name MadMules because of people like us?)

Three weeks in Scandinavia – lakes, mountains, rain.

We have just returned from a three-week holiday in Denmark, Norway and Sweden. Sounds like a picture-postcard idyll, and it was. But not only that. We started in sunny Denmark, driving along small coastal roads between wide fields. A few days later, we were already on the Norwegian high plateaus, barren, windy, sometimes above the clouds

And then there are the seemingly endless forests in Sweden, where you can walk for hours without encountering anyone and be completely immersed in nature, until suddenly three moose cross the track in front of us! The surprise at this unexpected encounter is as great for the moose as it is for us. These animals are so majestic and large that we feel very small on our CRFs afterwards.

Why Small Adventure Bikes Like the Honda CRF300L Make Big Motorcycle Trips Better

And yes: the weather. It can be quite unpredictable in northern Europe. One minute it’s blue skies, the next it’s black clouds and rain that feels like you’re standing under a shower. That’s why the north is not for motorcyclists who shy away from rain

All these amazing places, once taken for granted when you live a life of freedom and space which you believe will last forever. This journey was a pilgrimage for which I am so grateful and blessed to have been able to achieve.

Practical, waterproof and… usable as an airbag!

It was important to us that our luggage solutions could withstand heavy rain and remain reliably watertight even if the bikes ended up in a puddle – it’s all happened before! In addition to being waterproof, they needed to be robust, lightweight, durable and easy to repair. That’s another reason why we chose Turkana luggage solutions.

We mainly ride off-road and away from the main roads, where we regularly get our Hondas dirty. Sometimes because the ground was softer than expected, sometimes because we underestimated a muddy path, or because Max hadn’t had enough to eat and was no longer as focused.
NOTE! Chocolate MUST remain on our packing list.
The MadMules also have an unexpected additional function: they act as airbags for the bike. The outer pockets cushion the impact when you fall, protecting the fairing and, above all, your legs, as the bike rests on the bags and not on your limbs. When we find ourselves lying in the mud again, we get up, shake ourselves off, check the bikes and bags – and everything is fine.

An additional convenience for everyday travel? The waterproof inner pockets!

Quickly take them out, tuck them under your arm and you’re done. No more hours of dismantling and reassembling. And that’s priceless when you’re riding through rain for the third day in a row and want to at least put on a dry T-shirt in the evening

In addition to the side pockets, we also have the duffel bag with us. We store our tent and all our camping equipment in it. Everything is rainproof and in one place. But more importantly, there’s enough room for food!

Because let’s be honest: travelling without food is only half the fun. In Scandinavia, we got lost in the huge supermarkets and bought far too much. From Swedish cinnamon buns to Norwegian chocolate, Danish liquorice and delicious smørrebrød, we had it all. And all of it had to be stored somewhere. The duffel bag has room for it all – and keeps it dry, no matter how hard it rains.

The duffel bag – our rolling pantry

Conclusion – less baggage, more freedom

This trip showed us once again that the MadMules and the duffel bag not only ensured that we carried less, but also changed the way we travel. Less stuff means more freedom – and more focus on what matters: the landscape, the encounters, the adventure.

And the next time we find ourselves somewhere in Scandinavia – rain from above, mud from below – we’ll know that we have everything we need.

Credit: We are Mia and Max, motorcyclists and explorers from Hamburg – the perfect “Gateway to the World.” In 2022, we rode east for six months, crossing 13 countries and 20,000 km of roads and trails. We left our comfort zone, discovered new cultures, and met incredible people along the way. That was just the beginning. With our bikes, we want to keep venturing into the unknown, exploring Europe and beyond, chasing the bigger adventures still waiting for us.
https://wege-wagen.world/
https://www.instagram.com/wege_Wagen/

Copyright ©Wege-Wagen. All photographs, text and content featured in this article remain the property of the authors unless otherwise stated. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced, distributed or used in any form without prior written permission from the copyright owners.

The post From Hamburg to Scandinavia on Lightweight Adventure Bikes – Honda CRF300L With Turkana Gear appeared first on Turkana Motorcycle Adventure Gear.

How does one plan or even decide that this is going to be the trip of a lifetime?

After all, there will surely be more trips; whether done by myself or others, there will always be journeys planned and adventures to ride.

This particular trip started from a light-hearted question to a mutual friend one day while we were out on a ride. “Would he like to accompany me on a bike trip to my homeland, Zimbabwe?” I didn’t think for a moment he would take my question seriously. His riding ability far supersedes my own, his knowledge of adventure riding through Africa is extensive, and while he would be the perfect chaperone, I could not imagine that he would want to babysit an under-skilled, middle-aged female rider through Zimbabwe. But he did. And so did my nearest and dearest.

I now had two of the most suitable, most experienced, and most capable men a person could ever wish for on board with my idea, and so it started.

Not being experienced enough to know what luggage gear to purchase, as this was my first ever long-haul trip (and by long trip I mean more than just a weekend away), I was nudged in the direction of the Turkana Mad Mule luggage system. Usually, my nearest and dearest carried my overflow of essentials, which never included tools. This time, I had to kit myself out properly.

A light-hearted question turned into 1,000Km (620miles) of unforgettable roads.

I spent a couple of hours browsing the internet, looking at reviews, asking questions, and eventually purchased the 15L setup. I couldn’t wait to get it onto my bike for a test ride. Once I had it woven through the system, I loaded the inners with my washing, and off we went to test the balance and how it would affect my handling.

A middle-aged rider, a homeland calling, and the gear that carried it all.

Let me explain. I have only been riding a bike for three years. My skills and experience are limited, and any change to my bike raises my awareness of potential catastrophe or crisis. This is natural and comes with age — so any advice I can give is this: don’t start riding bikes at 53; it sets you back.

The luggage, however, with a balanced weight of about 6kg on each side, did absolutely nothing to the handling of my bike. I was delighted, as this had been one of my biggest concerns about the trip. 

We entered Zimbabwe, locked and loaded, on the 8th of September 2025. We travelled fabulous rural roads and clocked over 1,000km, albeit slower than my two bright lights would have wanted. But we were safe, we didn’t have any problems with the bikes, and we got to see the places we planned:
Honde Valley, with lunch at Aberfoyle Lodge, before taking the Tangenwa Road to Nyanga.
The Big Tree in Chirinda Forest, Mt Selinda.
Dear friends in Chipinge.
Lifelong friends in Chimanimani — visiting Bridal Veil Falls, Tessa’s Pool, Rathmore Forest.
My old homes on the forest estates: Charter, Tilbury, and Imbeza Valley, where I lived as a young woman starting my family.

All these amazing places, once taken for granted when you live a life of freedom and space which you believe will last forever. This journey was a pilgrimage for which I am so grateful and blessed to have been able to achieve.

Lessons, fears, and blessings from my first long-haul motorcycle trip.

I say to those who dream of riding adventure: just do it. You don’t have to ride like Adam Riemann or Chris Birch. Get the right people on board who share your dream and who have the skills and patience to support you on your trips. Plan your ride and load your Mad Mules for… a trip of a lifetime.

Credit: Jackie Anderson

Part of Jakie’s trip was to nail the Turkana Challenge Safari #3 points

The post From Nervous Rider to Adventure Pilgrim: My Journey Home – Zimbabwe appeared first on Turkana Motorcycle Adventure Gear.

Three amigos on a mission to prove you don’t need big adventure motorcycles — or good decisions — to have a great day. We grabbed a Triumph Scrambler 400X, a Royal Enfield Himalayan, and a CFMoto 450MT Ibex.

Then we slapped on some Turkana MadMule rackless soft saddlebags, fitted a Bullfrog 5L tank bag on a GeckoGrip harness, and strapped a PelliPouch handlebar bag to each bike. After that, we hit the streets and the ridiculously scenic mountain passes around Cape Town for the day, ghosting work like total delinquents.

The idea? The TurkanaGear soft luggage motorcycle pannier systems aren’t just for big 1200cc monsters. Turkana pannier rackless bags fit pretty much anything; no racks, no drama.
And to prove the new generation of small-capacity motorcycles are fun, good-looking and great for more than just commuting.

Turkana Motorcycle Soft panniers: Rugged, Rackless, waterproof, and Ready for Any Bike

They’re tough, modular, waterproof, adjustable for any size motorbike, simple to strap on, and just as happy on the morning commute as they are bombing down a gravel pass.

The bikes? All surprisingly capable. The Triumph is the flash retro one, lightweight and agile; it can do dirt but is happier on asphalt. The Himalayan? The Himalayan is laid-back, built like a tractor, and will get you anywhere. The CFMoto? Total wildcard. Punchy and fun, it shows up with no pedigree but still walks out like it owns the place.

They’re all beginner-friendly, but don’t let that fool you; these bikes aren’t just for first-timers figuring out which end of the clutch to pull. Whether you’re new to riding or have years of dirt under your nails and sand in your helmet, these machines deliver.

From City Streets to Gravel Passes: One Setup for Every type of motorbike Ride

They’re light, easy to handle, forgiving when you stuff up, and simple to fix when you eventually do. Cheap on fuel, low on maintenance drama, and built to take a beating, they’re the kind of bikes that let you focus on the ride, not the stress.

From weekday commutes and coffee shop runs to weekend camping trips and long-haul gravel adventures, they’ll get the job done and still make you grin while doing it.

 Triumph Scrambler 400X

• Engine: 398cc single-cylinder, liquid-cooled, 29 hp, 37.5 Nm torque.
• Weight: Around 179 kg wet.
• Ground clearance: ~195 mm.
• Why it rocks: Classic scrambler looks with solid build quality. Light, flickable, comfy on tarmac, and capable on light gravel.
• Good to know: It’s not a hardcore dirt machine, more of a retro street bike that can handle mild trails. Ideal for mixed rides with a bit of show-off style at the café, just unadulterated fun!
• Tank Size: 13 litres Decent for mixed use, roughly 300+ km range if you’re not riding like a hooligan.

Royal Enfield Himalayan

• Engine: 411cc air-cooled single-cylinder, ~24.5 hp, 40 Nm torque.
• Weight: About 196 kg wet.
• Ground clearance: 230 mm.
• Why it rocks: Simple, rugged, dead easy to fix. Built like a tractor. Loves slow, technical stuff and chewing up rough roads.
• Good to know: Not powerful, but that’s the point; you can plod over rocks and through rivers all day without drama. Super forgiving for newer riders or chilled adventurers.
• Tank Size: 17 litres A bigger tank suits longer stints. Can push 400+ km on calm rides thanks to low fuel use.

CFMoto 450MT Ibex

• Engine: 449cc parallel-twin, ~31 kw, 42 Nm torque.
• Weight: About 185 kg wet.
• Ground clearance: 220 mm.
• Why it rocks: Total dark horse. Peppy engine, light clutch, surprisingly refined. Affordable, cheerful, and punches above its price.
• Good to know: Not a prestige brand, but they’re getting serious; parts support is improving, and these bikes are proving themselves under rough use.
• Tank Size: 17.5 litres On the 450MT Ibex ADV spec. That’s seriously big for this class; you’ll get a very solid range, easily over 400 km. Making for a great continent-crossing machine.

Proof you don’t need sense, MAD skills, or a giant bike to have a damn good day

What makes the Turkana MadMules so damn versatile?

The MadMules are a rackless, modular, waterproof, soft luggage system, which means they strap directly onto just about any bike; no expensive, heavy metal pannier racks are needed. And the system only weighs around 2,5-3kg

That’s a huge deal, because it cuts weight, cost, and faff.

They’re built from custom-developed adventure-grade fabrics, tougher than your average Cordura or nylon, and designed to handle excessive UV, mud, grit, rocks, and whatever else Africa, Patagonia, or the Rockies can throw at them.

Why they work on anything:

• The fully adjustable harness system plus clever tension straps means you can mount them on a skinny dual-sport, a chubby ADV bike, or even a small street scrambler.
• The side pockets and top roll help distribute weight properly so you’re not messing up your bike’s balance; they don’t flap around like cheap one-season bags.
• Modular design: you can strap on or remove extra bags (like your TrekBag, Bullfrog tank bags, or PelliPouches) depending on whether you’re popping out for a weekend or disappearing into the sticks for two months.
• A lightweight setup = keeps your bike nimble and doesn’t overstress subframes (especially critical on small bikes).
• Fully waterproof inner liners keep your kit dry without needing ugly rain covers.

GeckoGrip, Bullfrog & PelliPouch: small bags, big damn difference

The GeckoGrip tank bag harness is basically your universal problem solver. It wraps around just about any bike’s tank or seat and lets you secure a Bullfrog 5L motorcycle tank bag without scratching paint or worrying about weird shapes. No magnets, no flappy straps, just a clever hold-fast system that hugs your bike like a persistent piece of mud between the front wheel and fender.

The Bullfrog 5L itself is a bombproof little waterproof rolltop. Big enough for snacks, cameras, gloves, chargers, bribes, or whatever you carry. And because it mounts on the GeckoGrip, you can swap it to another bike in minutes.

Then there’s the PelliPouch handlebar bag a small, tough stash spot that bolts straight onto your bars. Perfect for your phone, documents, or anything you’d rather not dig around for in the main bags. It’s all built with the same overkill-level adventure fabrics and waterproof liners, so rain, dust, or that surprise water crossing won’t kill your day (or your phone).

Together, these bits turn your bike into a modular adventure rig. Want to ride light? Just run the PelliPouch. Longer days? Slap on the Bullfrog. Weekend trips? Fill up the MadMules. Easy, fast, and zero drama.

What makes Turkana gear such a no-brainer? It’s dead simple. This kit doesn’t care if you ride a skinny little street scrambler, a chunky dual-sport, or a dirt-chomping beast. Modular, rackless, and fully adjustable, it straps on with zero fuss, with no fancy racks or four-hour garage sessions needed. It’s waterproof, dustproof, and built from fabrics that laugh at rocks, thorns, or your worst packing decisions.

Commute to work, blast off for a quick overnighter, or vanish into nowhere for a month. Add a bag, drop a bag, switch it to another bike, all done in minutes. Stop overthinking it; just ride.

Why we’ve got it so damn good right now

The truth is, we’re living in a golden age for two wheels. Not that long ago, your choices were either a rattly, shitty-looking delivery bike or something so pricey you’d have to sell a kidney just to insure it.

Now? You’ve got sharp-looking, mid-sized machines like the Triumph 400X, Royal Enfield Himalayan, BMW 310/450, KTM 390 Adventure, and CFMoto 450 that are easy on the wallet, easy on the eyes, and dead simple to ride. Whether it’s your first bike or your tenth. Or part of your 5 must-have-in-the-garage collection.

They sip fuel, laugh at rough roads, and pull double duty as weekday commuters and weekend wanderers. Paired with Turkana’s modular, bloody tough soft luggage that fits anything and goes anywhere, it means adventure isn’t locked behind a fat bank account or a giant ADV rig.

Basically, there’s never been a better time to grab a bike, strap on some bags, and go see what’s around the next corner. No excuses, just ride.

Thanks to Royal Enfield South Africa, Triumph South Africa, CFMoto, Mira ActiveWear, Claude Deyzel and Mike aka LekkaRides for all the help ghosting work, and have a blast of a day

The post Why Turkana’s Rackless Panniers Are Perfect for Any Bike, Even the Little Guys appeared first on Turkana Motorcycle Adventure Gear.

When I bought my first BMW GS in May 2008, I quickly got sucked into the world of adventure biking. I remember watching a short movie of guys doing a trip to Van Zyl’s Pass in Namibia. And I remember that I yearned to also experience an adventure like that, with the challenges, hardships, and all. But life happened and dreams fade….

Zimbabwe is an offroad adventure riders heaven. Free from tourist and Starbucks this is grid in the teeth

Fast forward 16 years, 8 bikes and many off-road courses, competitions and skills challenges later, I received a phone call from a certain Mr Mark Taylor: “Come join us on our next Zimbabwe adventure”.

And just like that, all these memories came tumbling back. All those dreams covered by layers of, well, mud, dust and sand, were back. And I realised, this is the one, the adventure I always dreamt of..

Looking back, this was the dream trip I had always hoped for, and I could not get enough!

To ride 2500km through bush-veld, mopani veld, past majestic Baobab trees, and to never (not once) encounter a fence or a closed gate. That is real adventure riding.

We saw sand tracks, river beds, easy to mild rocky single tracks, gravel roads, forest roads, granite boulder koppies, and a few very tough rocky climbs. We saw the Chimanimani mountains, rode through Big 5 territory, saw waterfalls, swam in Tessa’s pools (icy cold water), magnificent vistas from massive Gomo’s. 

We even slipped into Mozambique incognito for the most spectacular lookout. We experienced original bushmen drawings in a cave not open to public (still in pristine condition), and sunrises and sunsets to wax lyrical about, in leopard country.

Donkey carts by the dozens (2, 3 & 4 donkey powered), met people who had never seen white people in real life, rode through villages that had never seen a vehicle in it. Some days we rode without ever seeing a vehicle the whole day.

And in every village we stopped for something cold, locals would approach inquisitively, asking “where you’re from?” “where you’re going?”, and the inevitable “what is the top speed of your bike?” (300km/h of course). But always friendly, never aggressive or confrontational. Everyone lives a hard life, but they remain friendly. And everywhere we felt safe and welcome.

One gets the feeling that they want to improve, want to rebuild their country, pull themselves up with their bootlaces. And it is sobering to realise that our country is heading down the same road, just 30 years behind.

Was it hard? Yes it was, I won’t lie. Day one is not regarded as separating “the walkers from the talkers” for nothing.

You better know (or learn quickly) how to ride sand because there’s a lot of it. That’s why weight is so important, this is not a trip for heavily laden beasts of burden….

As the days went on, the riding got easier as the going shifted to more rocky terrain. In true Mark Taylor style, every day had its challenges, but none selected just to wear you out, but rather to take you to a beautiful view or some other reward – and boy oh boy, did we see spectacular vistas!!

There were sections of road (two in particular) that we all wished it would just end (fesh-fesh over ruts and rocks), but sometimes one has to take the bad with the good. But the rewards on the other side of those roads made it worth while.

What about my body? I won’t lie, every evening I was tired, and every morning had a few stiff limbs, aches and pains. But I have a solid base fitness, and I made sure I was fit and ready for the trip. You have to be fit to ride red/black routes 9 days in row and not break yourself. So be ready, and don’t say you weren’t warned. There’s a reason this trip is “by invitation only”…..

My bike and gear was carefully chosen and well researched. The KTM 890 Adventure R was my weapon of choice, and she did not disappoint. The 890 did not put a foot wrong, did not miss a beat or puffed an ounce of blue smoke (several punctures aside).
Nothing was too hard; sandy riverbeds, rocky climbs, water crossings, sandy tracks, all I had to do was point and shoot, and she cruised through it with no hassles. What a bike!!

The other important choice was a luggage system.

The criteria was strict: it had to be lightweight but strong, yet large enough for this and other trips, and keep the weight as little and as low as possible.

 My luggage weighed just over 6kg. I search far and wide, looked at videos from Chris Birch and others, until I stumbled on a YouTube clip by Michnus Olivier about their Turkana Mad Mules luggage system, and I instantly saw this was by far the best of all the offerings. Michnus did me a good “Easter deal” that I couldn’t resist.

It is a fantastic system; it’s fully adjustable and carries the weight down low. It’s dust- and waterproof, made from extra sturdy material, seams are double stitched and strengthened, really solidly made. It’s all made in SA and comes with a lifetime guarantee. And compared to the competitors, by far the best value for money.

I had a strap failure (wag-‘n-bietjie’s thorns are not friendly), and Michnus replaced it with a smile (and some mild banter). It’s good to know they stand by their products, will repair any little misdemeanours, and are always ready with advice and support. Now if he can only polish out the scratches from the thorn bushes, he’ll be my hero (I guess that’ll remain as memory stripes)….

If you read this far and yearn for a great adventure, this is the trip for you. Adventure Riders SA’s Mark Taylor and Treffon Smith put up a great show; every day is better than the previous; logistics were seamless; they were always ready to help where something went wrong without dragging a whole workshop with them. I was impressed with what they brought with in such compact luggage and what they could fix with seemingly no tools. These guys know how to put a great trip together. Bravo Mark Taylor & Treffon Smith (Adventure Riders SA & KHWELA ADVENTURES ZIM GRAVEL TRAVEL)

Article and photos: Theo van Niekerk

The post Zimbabwe; adventure riding is still a proper motorbike adventure. appeared first on Turkana Motorcycle Adventure Gear.

In the far north, close to the Namibian border lies a vast barren landscape. A place we have all explored in some shape or form, but never traversed it unsupported.

The idea was simple – three friends, three bikes kitted with the new Turkana MadMules rackless soft luggage and five days to go do epic shit. Riding from sunrise to sunset carrying everything we need with us. Searching for freedom and being pioneers in our own minds. Or like I like to put it – Expedition leaders of our own expeditions.

When riding in such remote places with no support and having to be totally self-sufficient there are two things in my mind that is important.

Reliability of your equipment and a positive attitude. The positive attitude we knew we had, we just had to ensure that we had the most reliable tools to get us there and back.

Because of the technical terrain and the distances, we had to cover each day, big bikes would not have made sense. So, we opted for some lightweight 500cc bikes. They are easier to handle in sand and rocks, lighter on fuel with long range tanks and we could fit mousses to avoid punctures. In other words, the perfect tool for the job.

But everything in life comes with pros and cons. Where you can load a big bike with everything you own plus the cat, the smaller capacity bike is limited.

For one the 500 does not really have a sub-frame so adding luggage is a challenge.We looked at all the available options. Riding with Backpacks – which would impact our water carrying ability, strapping bags to the back and all sorts of soft luggage systems available on the market.

After seeing a picture of the Turkana Mad Mules on a KTM 500 and knowing that the designers themselves have first hand experience of travelling for prolonged periods of time, I had to get in contact.

We managed to get hold of two 15L sets. We fitted them to two of the bikes and divided our luggage between them. At first, I was a bit sceptical as I am very weary of strapping anything to a motorcycle. It must be 100% safe and secure before I would even consider doing so.

Setting off and following in the dust of my friends I took it easy. Watching the other bike with Mad Mules ahead of me to see whether it is moving around or impacting the handling of the bike at all. After hitting the first ruts and a dead-end we pulled up next to one another pointing at the bags, giving a simultaneous thumbs up and raced off into the distance.

If there is one thing other than functionality that sets the Turkana gear apart from the other products on the market it is the quality. They come with a lifetime guarantee, and for a damn good reason. These things are sturdy enough to survive a small nuclear blast.

As we had no set route and only followed waypoints on the GPS, we unintendedly took them through 5km of thorn trees, rocks, dust, water and whatever nature could throw at us. Not once did they move or impacted the handling of the bike. The bags fit snugly to the bike and is 100% dust proof. 

Not even the gnarly thorns could penetrate the MadMules rackless luggage

Unfortunately, the trip ended a day early with a nasty crash, but the Mad Mules, or Insane Mules as I like to call them was a revelation. As we all know the more space you have the more nonsense you pack. In that regard the 15L is perhaps a bit of an overkill for one person.

For our next expedition we have already decided on the perfect set-up. We will have three sets of 10L Mad Mules fitted to each bike. It is more than enough space for a week’s comfortable travel and will allow for better weight distribution between the three bikes.

I am a firm believer that one should try different products and set-ups until you find what works for you, your riding style and the trip you have planned. The Turkana rackless MadMules is just that for me. It is so versatile that you can fit it to any bike, and in my case, even my bicycle now that I cannot ride a motorbike for a few months.

I cannot wait to see what appears under the Christmas tree this year

Article and photos: Charl du Plessis
Find him on Instagram

Copyright ©Charl Du Plessis. All photographs, text and content featured in this article remain the property of the authors unless otherwise stated. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced, distributed or used in any form without prior written permission from the copyright owners.

The post Turkana MadMules expedition to the Richtersveld appeared first on Turkana Motorcycle Adventure Gear.

We had piled enough food, water and other necessities on board to keep us going for the next five-six days, and it was a great way to truly give our prototype Turkana Hippo Hips 30L pannier bags a run for their money! It’s amazing how much you can get in them.

The morning of our Lagunas Route adventures had arrived and we headed off to get some bottled water from a local shop before rocking up at the fuel station and filling multiple cans full of fuel, fortunately, most of it on the roof of our friend 4×4, and others being strapped on top of our panniers.

The panniers were held in place by a hook and loop system, which meant they could be adapted to any pannier frames, which was great for our Suzuki DR650 aftermarket frames. The thin backing plates also meant that the bags had some support on the inner side so didn’t collapse into the frames too much. It was then time to set off South towards the famous Lagunas Route.

The road quickly turned to loose, powder-like sand as we headed down to Villa Mar.

Expedition – Turkana Prototypes on the Lagunas Route, Bolivia

I struggled a little in some places where the sand suddenly became deeper and on one occasion, I ended up going down. Unfortunately, it was right next to a solid bank and as I fell, I hit my head hard on the side.

My brain shook and my earpiece dug into my ear and the side of my head. I think that I may have had a concussion for the first time in my life and for the rest of the evening my head was pounding.

Tackling terrain like this was one of the reasons why we chose to use rugged soft luggage..

Much more friendly for your legs when you have an off and no having to bang it back int shape after, and when made properly like these bags, there was no sewing back together in the wilderness required, not like our previous bags.

The day was drawing to an end. We found a large area that dipped down out of view of the road, so we tried it out and decided it was hidden and sheltered enough for one night so we all got tents up and started cooking. My head was still banging but luckily with a few painkillers, it settled down. We didn’t sleep too badly, even at 4250m and -9 degrees Celsius outside.

Kelvin thought he heard footsteps in the night, however, upon naked investigation with just biking boots for protection, there was nothing there. We thought it was maybe just animals because the next morning a whole herd of Llama’s were grazing near our camp spot.

We packed everything away, and once we got going again we followed the stony road to the official park entrance. We followed the dusty road along and soon came to deep water crossing with soft sand, however, we were able to cross where it was a little shallower and fortunately, neither of us hit any super-soft patches on our way through and the bikes remained un-drowned. We continued on and the views were truly amazing.

There were wide, flat open spaces, some cool red-brown rocks, and a backdrop of mountains in the distance.

The dirt road was really rideable even with all the weight, and the sun was shining bright and warm, which made a huge difference to our comfort.

We pulled into a small village called Quetena Chico, and a tiny hostel managed to squeeze us all into a shared dorm. Once the sun started disappearing the temperature dropped dramatically and in the morning the temperature was -11 degrees Celsius before the sun really came up. We paid 10 Bolivianos for a pancake breakfast and check-out was about 7.30am or something crazy so it was an early start; not fantastic for a sleepy sloth like me

The lakes we started passing, namely Laguna Hedionda and Laguna Kollpa, were truly stunning, the latter being particularly beautiful with an abundance of white salt and pretty pink flamingos. Some of the birds were still imprisoned by the frozen water it was still that cold.

Lake Chalviri was a treat due to the Polques hot springs, and after a couple of days without a shower, it was very welcome. We then continued along the same route down to Laguna Blanca and Laguna Verde. The road was so corrugated but the amazing landscapes made up for it, and everything on the bikes stayed in place; we were quite impressed. Laguna Verde was overlooked by Volcán Licancabur, and that together with the bright green-blue lake was really spectacular in the desolate landscape.

The following day the first stop of the morning was the incredible Sol de Mañana geysers.

I had been impressed by the one small Geyser id seen in Peru near Colca Canyon but this was something else! There were large holes full of bubbling mud, steam, and lots of different colours and the landscape was just other-worldly. We spent so much time there, just taking it all in.

It was one of the true highlights of the Lagunas Route adventure. We then continued on to Laguna Colorada which is one of the most famous lakes with its red tinge and three species of Flamingos.

We could see it in the distance with a vast area of barren landscape between us and the lake, and it also marked the end of the National Park! I had made it! The bikes and the luggage once again had done their job and survived some of the toughest challenges of this two-year trip. We’ll definitely be using the Turkana bags again!

Words and photos: Suzie and Kelvin Prevett.

The post This is how we find out if our motorcycle soft luggage saddlebags survives appeared first on Turkana Motorcycle Adventure Gear.

We keep testing and aiming to keep improving on the Turkana motorcycle soft luggage bag pannier range. When you live in Europe, as I do, the top adventure destination is Morocco. From Amsterdam, it is about 2,000 km as the crow flies to Tanger.

Riding there and back is too far for a short trip, but luckily there is a quicker way to get there. A week before my departure, I dropped off my motorbike at a cargo company that took it to the southern tip of Spain. I flew to Malaga in the early morning, picked up my bike, bought a ferry ticket and arrived in Morocco in the late afternoon. A long day, but a guarantee for an instant African adventure.

The search for dunes

The plan was to ride as far southeast as possible, in search of the high dunes south of Erg Chegaga, near the border of Algeria. It is a great route to test the prototype HippHip 30L Turkana saddlebag and duffel bag.

From Chefchaouen, the lovely blue city in the north of Morocco, I rode to Midelt to pick up the ‘Cirque the Jaffar’, an offroad track through the High Atlas with dramatic views. Leonie and I had been here seven years earlier in preparation for our RTW Trip.

At that time, the big bikes with heavily loaded aluminium panniers, a lack of riding experience and a bad version of food poisoning made it the worst track we had ever ridden. This time, it was a different story. On my light Honda CRF250L, with the light soft luggage set on the back, I could fully enjoy the rocky piste and the amazing scenery.

I continued passed Agoudal towards the Dades Valley, famous for the winding road that leads into the gorge. Another day of riding brought me past Zagora, the gateway to the Sahara. At the end of the road, in the town of Mhamid, I found a place to camp.

At home, while looking at the map, I noticed a track through the desert leading from Mhamid to Foum Zguid. I had always wanted to ride the dunes and now I was here, I wanted to give to ride this track.

I stocked up on water and fuel and waited until the late afternoon to start riding, to avoid the scorching sun and to be able to wild camp in the desert halfway through the track. I set off in the direction my GPS was pointing to but noticed there were about a dozen tracks leading into the desert. It was hard to find the right track, but I chose one and rode off.

The sand was deep and hard to ride. I hit the gas, going as fast as the little CRF250L would carry me and tried to keep momentum. My rear wheel swirling in the deep sand and the engine revving.

After a few kilometres, I was far away from the original line on the GPS. This was probably not right. Just when I was about to turn around, I saw a patch of green on my left, an oasis with lush green palm trees. Someone was waving at me. I had not been dehydrated enough for this to be a mirage, so I turned left.

At the edge of the little palm tree forest, two men welcomed me and pointed to a rug on the ground. “Du thé?” one of them asked when he pointed towards a black burnt cattle. Yes, that would be great. He poured three cups, holding the cattle high above the little glasses.

The sweet tea tasted great. In broken French and some English, we talked about my bike and the track. They said I had taken a wrong turn and pointed towards a hill in the distance. After a second glass of tea, I took off and followed their instructions.

I could see a car riding over the dunes, popping up every now and again.

It was riding on the same track, in my direction. I was parked in a rut and from his side he could not see me or the bike and would hit it if he continued. I ran to the top of the dune and waved my arms to stop him. The car suddenly turned 90 degrees and stopped near the track.

I pointed to the bike, half in the sand, and he understood I needed help. Together we dug out the bike. The man looked at the packed bike and my tired face. He shook his head and made clear he thought it was not wise to continue.

I agreed that it was better to turn around and head back to the campsite. While I struggled on the track, the car stayed behind me until we reached the main sand road where our paths parted. Grateful for the help from this stranger, I returned on the campsite, completely exhausted and suffering from a slight heatstroke. Although my adventure-seeking heart had wanted to continue on this quest, my head made me turn around. Another bike, another time, with a friend, I’ll tackle these dunes for sure!

I continued the test ride through Morocco through the oasis town of Tata and the city of Ouarzazate, the desert location for many Hollywood movies. By the time I arrived back in Chefchaouen 10 days later, I added another 2.500 km to my bike and the first kilometres to the Turkana Gear.

Both the Turkana HippoHips and the Turkana Duffalo had held up greatly! The terrain had been rough, with rocky riverbeds, dusty gravel roads and sandy tracks. I had ridden in the rain in the high Atlas and for days in the burning sun in the desert.

I had dropped the bike multiple times and packed and unpacked the bags every day. They did what they were designed to do. Apart from minor design changes to the look and feel of the bags, this 2019 Turkana Test Ride confirmed these bags are production ready!

By Peter Scheltens

The post How to make sure we covered all the bases appeared first on Turkana Motorcycle Adventure Gear.

There are two routes from Kenya to Ethiopia and vice versa. The main road through Marsabit is about interesting as watching paint dry and is the most popular with travellers. And then there is the route which is the road less travelled via Lake Turkana. This route inadvertently thought us quite a bit about the motorcycle soft luggage bags we eventually designed.

This route is more a track that can take days to traverse but is much more fun with incredible dramatic landscapes. Lake Turkana is the world’s biggest desert lake and Africa’s most saline. Fondly called the Jade Sea because of its breathtaking colour. It is surrounded by an arid, seemingly extraterrestrial landscape often devoid of life.

We got told at Jungle Junction, an overlanders oasis in Nairobi, Kenya, about the route from a few overlanders and with fair warning that they did not advise riding the Turkana lake route unsupported. Especially on motorcycles.

What makes the route so dangerous, yet interesting is that overlanders need to carry their own fuel and water for the nearly 900km of the route.

Most travellers team up with 4×4’s trucks to carry their fuel and water, and for added support, when things go wrong. Just to add some more zest to the mix for this adventure, the route follows the lava rocks and sand that is also crossing into Marsabit, making riding slow, dangerous and potentially a killer of tyres. It is extremely remote and you can not just summons a helicopter or rescue effort if things go wrong.

This is desolation valley! You are on your own!

We were completely out of luck with any backup overlanders. This is Africa and there are not hordes of overlanders and very few ever choose the Turkana route. Eventually, we decided to buy some fuel and water containers and go at them on our own. In addition to our bike’s 18L fuel tanks, we each carried an added 15L of fuel, an additional 10L of water with me and full water trippers on our backs.

We started the route at Isiolo in Kenya and the next stop was at Maralal. In the last town, we were sure to get fuel and water, we set out. A motorcyclist is a rare sight in the village and with strange looks from the locals, we left late afternoon on very heavily laden bikes en route to Lake Turkana.

Not 5km out of town the road slowed to technical rock climbing all the way up the escarpment. We only managed 25km for the rest of the afternoon and late the afternoon set up camp beside the road.

If it started like this we were sure as hell going to suffer the next 5 days through the inhospitable landscape!

Early the next day the road meandered over amazing mountain ranges and the most beautiful surroundings imaginable. The going was slow and although it was partly overcast it was as hot as hell. The entire road was badly eroded and corrugated, little did we know the 1st and second gear 20km/h riding was going to be the majority of the route to Ethiopia.

The route to Loiyangalani became a bit easier with its powdery sand tracks and at some places, we could even use 3rd and 4th for a few hundred meters at a time.

As the day progressed, the heat got really unbearable, it must have been well over 40’c.

Just about 50km before Loiyangalani we rode into the lava fields. It was like being on the receiving end of a nasty ‘bitch’ slap, you are suddenly wide awake focusing on not to crash.

Riding on fist-size marbles that throw your front wheel all over the place in a hollowed-out track and still trying to avoid the sharp-edged rocks requires your full attention. Riding out of the track was impossible and dangerous.

I am sure this place is Satan’ home, and even camels succumb to the terrain it’s really not a good environment for people. How the tribes survive here is an absolute mystery, it is a brutal place. The huts resemble squatter camps more than anything else, and there’s no water, except lake water and which is salty but drinkable and some waterholes.

Tired and thirsty late that afternoon we reached Shady Palms Campsite in Loiyangalani. We could not remember when last we felt so tired. We each downed 1.5L of beer and at least 1.5L of water before going to bed and did not even go for a pee.
With a WTF expression on our faces, the manager at the campsite told us there are showers with hot water! Well up to now we got used to mostly cold showers because that was all that campers got at campsites in Africa. But, here, there was no cold water! In 40’ degree heat, we had a shower which was great but was scolding hot!

We took a ‘rest-day’ and strolled through Loiyangalani village with its roughly 1000 inhabitants and home to three different tribes of people. It is an oasis in the desert, with lots of palm trees and a hot water spring. And nothing else. The heat was unbearable even with the wind blowing, we decided to rather relax in the hammocks and drink beer.

The next morning with the sun mercilessly beating down on us the technical riding started soon outside the village. There’s a strange exhilaration about travelling alone in such absolute desolation. Life and adventure are so much more prickling.

In one of the dry river beds, we came across a group of men scooping water from a well for their camels. As we stopped under the trees we were greeted with sceptic looks. It was only then that we saw the size of the water well. Roughly 6m deep and 5m across tapering down. They cut steps down to the water.

The men stood in a row passing the bucket to the top man. They offered us one of the buckets, I tipped it over my head, damn, it felt good! Relaxing a bit like that makes it difficult to get back on the bikes.

We had to keep going, a while before Karsa gate entered the national park the road turned really nasty. The track turned into one bad rocky bed. Our hands took a beating from the vibrations and the bikes fans were working overtime in the heat. In the back of my mind, I could not stop worrying about the tyres, those rocks are sharp and it does not take much to cut a tyre.

Eventually, late in the afternoon, we rode up to the park gate and collapse onto the cement floor under the cool shade of the grass roof.

We were dead tired and dehydrated.

The two guards just smiled at the two crazies and went on their merry way watching local soap operas on their solar-powered TV.

We did not have the energy to ride anymore. The men at the gate told us 9km away there’s a small canteen where they might have a beer or two! After half an hour rest we dragged ourselves back to the bikes and head off to find the canteen. Fuck, 9kms sand riding can be a lifetime away!!

As we sat outside the canteen downing some beers and drinks, staff told us all their food and necessities are delivered by boat from the other side of the lake. Nothing gets trucked or driven into the park by road, the road condition is just to beat up. Even their drinking water gets delivered in 200L drums. We stocked up on beers and eggs and pulled into a dry river bed under some big trees for a very hot, long night.

The first 10km just after sunrise was quite easy. We hoped it would last and be in Illiret late the afternoon. Well, it did not last!

One thing we learned was that planning goes out the window on routes like these. Our speed dropped to 20km/h on average and our fuel consumption to a 16km/L which presented a fresh new hell. Our next place to get fuel would only be in Turmi or Granada, Ethiopia and still a good 500km away.

This is where the proverbial shit hit the fan in bucket loads.

Exactly at the intersection to Koobi Fora research station, the track turned to a challenging sand track. This is why this terrain is so unpredictable, only 2mm of rain can turn it into a fast rideable track, or not. The weight of the bikes and the soft powdery sand made riding it virtually impossible and 4×4’s had dug up the sand to such an extent that it offered no grip.

THE BIKES KEPT DIGGING INTO THE SAND.

When we got them to float the track altered direction. Overgrown bushes and thorns hanging into the track hit us on the face and body and our progress slowed to a crawl. Neither of us is new to sand riding and can cope with most sand tracks with ease, but this was the first time that we got into sand tracks that were really difficult to ride.

It took us over 2 hours to negotiate the 12km sand track to the research station. The bikes were starting to overheat and we used all our water. This was as bad as it could get as we were smack in the middle of the route and recovering us or the bikes from there would be a huge challenge.

Eventually, when we reached the buildings a man gave me much-needed water in an old 5L oil container.

The container was wrapped in the dirty old sponge, tied up with an electric cable as a homemade water cooler. It took us quite some time to cool down and feel normal again.

The local staff offered to cook us some fried lake fish and rice as it would help restore our energy for the next day and we were going to need it! Gratefully, they filled our water bottles from their 200L water drums. Apart from being a scientific research station, the place is a graveyard to old Land Rover wrecks that in days gone by only made it there and died.

We went to bed with trepidation knowing the next day’s riding was going to be challenging. While the coffee was brewing the next morning and we packed up the tent, there was not much talking. The first piece out of Koobi Fora is sand and with the bikes warmed up, we stormed into the sandy field in a northerly direction trying to avoid the previous day’s route.

By now it was a lot of fun riding the rocky roads, skills got sharpened up in a jiffy, progress was great and we were in good spirit chasing over some of the dry pans that formed next to the lake. As we got closer to Illiret we saw Zebra and some other big buck trotting away as we rode by.

At Illeret we needed to get stamped out at the police station before heading off to Omorate, Ethiopia, 60km away. God knows how de hell people make a living here and from what. The police were extremely friendly, and even escorted us to the closest cold drink. There is no official border crossing here between Ethiopia and Kenya and we made our own based on the GPS coordinates.

Meanwhile in Ethiopia, unknown to us, there was an early start to the rainy season and the only two big rivers we still had to cross, 25km before Omorate, were full-flowing. The first river I walked and we managed to cross it quite easily but just 5km away the second big mother of a river nearly 500m wide in full flood left us dumbstruck.

As a precaution, I walked through and nearly got washed away by the force of the water. The bad news was that the bank was washed away too deep for us to exit the other side. As we stood there contemplating what to do, a local casually dressed man came up to us on a small Chinese bike with an AK47 over his shoulder.

Quite a friendly chap turned out to be a local policeman. We communicated via self-improvised sign language and smiles. We gathered that he had to get to Omarate himself and gestured we can follow him as he knew another route.

We looked at each other with very tired expressions but had no other choice.

It meant riding back 20km and crossing the one river again then taking a northerly direction towards Omorate. He rode the small bike like a real pro enduro racer and we made good progress via the cattle tracks.
Around 17km before Omorate the policeman stopped indicating to me that his fuel tank was empty. We offered him our last 2L that were in our jerry cans hoping we could get a few litres in Omarate. As our next known fuel stop was still 200km away.

The small village of Omarate is a busy little place with curious people and we were soon greeted by the familiar “you, you, you…money, money” that all the other overlanders warned us about.

As we reached the local immigration office, a small skinny man came over to greet us. Our names got dotted down into a book that resembled “the dog ate my homework” and we were free to enter Ethiopia.

We were quickly whisked away to the local hotel by a fixer. The only hotel was in fact a dodgy brothel, which was confirmed by loud moaning and groaning noises emanating from the rooms throughout the night.

Cats mating made less noise and porn stars will cry from envy. We opted to pitch our inner part of the tent outside the room and rather sleep in our own bed. The pleasures of travel.

Our last issue was to get fuel as we had about 5L or 7L left in our tanks.

We were up early the next day to try and find fuel and since it was still 185km to the rest camp close to Granada we wanted to get going while it was still cool. The problem was we would not make it to the Granada with the fuel we had. With some luck, a local at the hotel took us to a friend in Turmi the next town who had some fuel stored for himself in 200L drums in the back of his house.

Fuel in these remote is an extremely valuable commodity. He sold us some at quite an inflated price, but that is how it goes.

We were happy we finally made it into Ethiopia!

Words & Pictures: Michnus and Elsebie Olivier

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