An Epic Bike Ride Across the Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia
16 - 17 March 2020
16 March (70.8 km, 44.0 mi) - Debre Markos to Dejen
17 March (42.8 km, 26.6 mi) - Dejen to Gohatsion, across the Blue Nile Gorge
Some stretches of road have become legends in the cycling community. Occasionally these segments become famous for their scenic beauty. But more often, they are infamous because of their difficulty. When you start planning a bicycle tour that crosses one of these areas, it will loom large in your plans and your mind as you approach. The crossing of the Blue Nile Gorge in Ethiopia is one of those rides.
Why? Well… It’s deep. It’s steep. And the high-altitude sun will sap your strength. Cycling across the Blue Nile Gorge with a fully-loaded touring bike will test your mettle. It’s not for sissies.
So it was, that the Blue Nile Gorge had been hanging out there, on the edge of our consciousness since we started our ride south from Cairo, Egypt, three months ago. For a while, we thought we might be taking a different route through Ethiopia (to the east, through Dessie) that would have avoided the Blue Nile Gorge. And to be honest, one of the things that made us reconsider that decision and take the western route through Bahir Dar was the chance to cycle across the gorge. We wanted to see the spectacular scenery, but also to test ourselves, and prove we could do it.
Even in the context of Ethiopia’s big mountain climbs, the Blue Nile Gorge stands out. Heading southeast, the ride across the gorge is approximately 40 km long, involving dizzying descents followed by a 1,480 m (4,855 ft) climb. It’s comparable in height to the climb onto the Ethiopian Plateau, but covers fewer kilometers, so it’s much steeper. (Map image courtesy of Ride With GPS.)
Now, here we were, just a day away from cycling through the second-largest canyon in the world. Thinking about what lay ahead made me a little bit queasy. But it still seemed somewhat unreal. We had another 71 km of cycling to go before making it to Dejen, the town perched on the northern rim of the gorge. That gave us time to reflect on the challenge ahead, and to let the anticipation grow.
The ride to Dejen was quite enjoyable, because it was another cloudy day. In fact, it appeared as though the rainy season was going to arrive right on schedule (the probability of rain in Ethiopia rises fast starting in the middle of March). Rain was forecast for the afternoon, but fortunately the precipitation held off and we didn’t have to contend with wet roads. Instead, the clouds kept the temperature cool, so that we were more comfortable than usual riding through the Ethiopian hills.
Packing away my sweater after the morning chill. Chemoga, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
A Classic African Wildife Scene
Believe it or not, a highlight of today’s ride was the opportunity to see a group of vultures feeding on a carcass. They’re not colorful, or particularly attractive to look at. But they are interesting to watch. And there’s something about vultures around a carcass that evokes the Africa you see on television, where there always seems to be a crowd of vultures on a lion kill.
But we’ve seen remarkably few vultures in Egypt, Sudan and Ethiopia. They are persecuted in many places. As a result, we’ve often seen dead animals just rotting by the side of the road, with no carrion birds to eat the meat. It’s a shame, because vultures do a good job of cleaning up those messes, and preventing the spread of disease from dead animals. We were glad to see them.
Just like on TV, the vultures squabbled with each other over the carcass - flapping, jabbing each other, and squawking as they jockeyed for a chance to grab a morsel of the meat. They looked a bit awkward, strutting around in the grass while trying to bluff their way through the crowd to get close to the food. There were at least three species, including African White-backed Vultures, Ruppell’s Griffon Vultures, and Hooded Vultures. Part-way through the show, a local dog joined the fray, sending the vultures scattering and complaining about the interruption in their meal.
While we were watching the vultures, half a dozen locals stopped to watch us. They were curious about what we found so interesting. We got the impression that they would not have given the vultures a second thought, until they saw us looking at them. The people were particularly intrigued when PedalingGuy walked part-way out into the field to get closer photos. I remained back on the road with the bikes. After a few minutes of watching us, the local folks also started looking more closely at the vultures. A couple of them gave me a thumbs-up when I glanced their way. It was a reminder that sometimes we don’t see things that we have become accustomed to, until someone else shows interest. Then we’re reminded of the uniqueness and beauty all around us.
There was a big change in scenery today. We started seeing more open, grassy valleys and fewer of the big eucalyptus forests. We rode through several, high-altitude basins (7,600-8,000 ft) surrounded by hills. The broad valley floors were blanketed with the short stubble of over-grazed grass. Very big herds of donkeys and cattle - much bigger than what we saw in the smaller mountain valleys - roamed across the grasslands in scattered groups.
Here, a cluster of alien space pods is camouflaged as teff haystacks. Lumame, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
The grasslands were sprinkled with herds of donkeys and cows. The dung cakes (front) are collected for use as home cooking and heating fuel in areas where wood is scarce. Bete Kristiyan, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
People Are Starting to Avoid Us
After arriving in Dejen, we noticed that people were starting to treat us differently. When we went out to buy a few cold drinks, nobody crowded around us - which was very unusual. And as we walked down the street, some people moved away from us as we approached. We surmised that this was because they were afraid we might be carrying the COVID-19 coronavirus. A couple of people shouted, “corona!” at us, confirming our suspicions. Cyclists in other parts of Africa have started reporting similar encounters, including having people not want to sit next to them on a bus. With some justification, Africans believe the virus is being brought to the continent by foreigners. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been in Ethiopia for more than a month. Our white skin makes us stand out, and people are starting to be wary.
It was kind of nice not having people hassle us on the street, but the reason people are avoiding us isn’t good.
The next day we would tackle the Blue Nile Gorge. As we rode into town we could see the chasm off to the left . And we could see it pretty well from the third-floor window of our hotel. The canyon looked gigantic. It definitely made me a little bit nervous.
What a Day
Today we cycled across the Blue Nile Gorge - a legendary ride, well known among people who travel overland across Africa. And guess what? It really was epic.
Right out of the gate from the town of Dejen, the road starts its descent into the canyon. For nearly 20 km, we careened down a breathtakingly steep hill, zig-zagging back and forth along the face of the canyon with an overall drop of 1,400 m (4,600 ft).
That’s a big hill. Route and elevation profile for the Blue Nile Gorge. (Image courtesy of Ride With GPS.)
The first thing we noticed as we started downhill was the lousy condition of the road. The vast majority of roads in Ethiopia have had awesomely smooth pavement. They’re way better than the roads in Egypt or Sudan. It is said that China has invested lots of money into the road system in Ethiopia, and it shows in the good quality of many of the roads. Unfortunately, that didn’t hold true for the road through the gorge. For whatever reason, this road is in horrible disrepair. From the very beginning, the asphalt was cracked, rutted and wavy. We had to maintain absolute focus on where our wheels were headed during every single moment we were moving, or we ran the risk of losing control of the bike from hitting a bump, side-swiping a fold, or getting a wheel caught in a crack. Fortunately, traffic was pretty light.
Here we go! Heading into the first hairpin turn on the descent into the Blue Nile Gorge. Dejen, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Quickly, we found ourselves heading into the first of many hairpin turns. With downward gradients in excess of 15%, it was a real challenge to brake with enough force to negotiate through the bends. The lumps and folds in the asphalt didn’t help, because they kept us from choosing the optimal line through the curves. We often had to negotiate the turns while keeping our wheels within the confines of ruts less than 0.25 m in width.
Look out below! That speck on the road below is me. PedalingGuy took this shot from the top of a single hairpin turn in the road, which shows how fast the road was plummeting into the gorge. Dejen, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
As if the road itself wasn’t challenging enough, Ethiopia threw me a couple of extra curve balls. Right after PedalingGuy took the photo above, the terrain on the left side of the road rose quickly until I was cycling next to a high ridge. Then I heard the tell-tale “clack-clack-clack” of rocks falling onto the road from above. Someone up on the hill was throwing rocks down upon me. My mind raced back to the incident we heard about in Bahir Dar, where a fellow cyclist was badly injured by rocks being thrown from above. I hustled a little bit further down the road, then pulled off to the side to wait for PedalingGuy to catch up.
When he arrived, he shouted, “The people throwing stones are coming closer, we need to get going!” And he started to take off. Flustered, I lost my balance while trying to get a fast start and tipped over on my right side - directly into a vicious thorn bush. These were not small blackberry-like thorns, but rather full blown sewing-needle-length thorns. It was demoralizing. I grumbled, pouted and cursed as I tried to carefully extract the many thorns that were impaled in my skin and clothing. All the time worrying that whoever was throwing rocks might catch up and rain down more stones. It was a lousy way to start the day but there was really nothing I could do other than pick myself up, pluck the thorns, compose myself, and get rolling again.
The rest of the descent was every bit as challenging as we had heard it would be. My hands were exhausted from applying the brakes, and I had to stop often to rest them. In over 25,000 km of bicycle touring (15,500 mi), we had never gone down a hill that was as long, steep and treacherous as this one.
On the bright side, stopping frequently allowed us to savor the views of the canyon. The gorge is huge, with grassy mesas that end in steep cliffs that plunge down to the river’s edge. The road into the canyon would often be visible as a thin ribbon far below, with itsy-bitsy trucks and buses snaking down into the valley. The tiny size of the distant road helped put the massive extent of the canyon into perspective.
The view is so gorgeous, my hands feel better already (after intense braking and subsequent stop to enjoy the view). It may look like we are at the top just getting started, but we are already more than halfway down the gorge, resting on a plateau with lots of downhill still to go. Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
The tiny size of trucks and buses on the road far below helped put the grand scale of the gorge into perspective. Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Adding to the fun, the road surface got worse and worse as we rode down the face of the canyon wall. Pretty soon, we started hitting sections where the pavement would end suddenly, launching onto patches of rough rocks, dust and gravel. Each time, we’d have to squeeze the brakes even harder with our tired hands, so as to not gain too much speed, and lose control after hitting the rocks and loose gravel. If a vehicle passed at the wrong moment, we’d get dusted like powdered donuts, with the fine dirt kicked up by their wheels. On one fateful section, we hit a rock and gravel patch just as we were coming out of a hairpin turn. I lost control of my bike and tipped over, again. Sigh. Luckily, I wasn’t going very fast, so the worst injury was to my pride.
This torn-up spot in the road actually wasn’t too bad. Some were much bigger, with ruts and bumps. Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Along the way, PedalingGuy kept trying to convince me to try riding in the drop position on my handlebars to have greater leverage on the brakes. I was afraid to do it, because I never feel like I have as much control of the bike in that position. It’s okay out on the open road, as a way to ride in a more aerodynamic position when we’re trying to go as fast as possible, or riding into a stiff wind. But it’s a more challenging position when creeping slowly down a steep, winding hill, where excellent bike handling can mean the difference between staying upright, or landing in a thorn bush. Also, I have small hands, making it hard for my fingers to grip the brakes down below. But after my second spill, I knuckled down and decided to give it a try. My hands were aching, and I needed to do something to increase my braking power without putting more strain on my hands.
It turned out to be a really good suggestion, of course. My fingers barely reached the brake levers, but I had just enough overlap that I wasn’t actually in danger of losing my grip. I rode carefully, doing my best not to gain too much speed. But braking was definitely easier, so it was possible to keep the bike moving more slowly.
In two hours, we reached the bottom of the canyon having covered the first 20 km at only 10 km/hr (barely over 6 mph). That’s not too snappy, especially going downhill. There was plenty of daylight left so we weren’t too worried about the time. But it’s safe to say that it was probably the slowest downhill we’ve ever cycled.
Just before crossing the Blue Nile bridge, we were treated to the sight of a couple of Grivet Monkeys by the side of the road. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Then we cycled across the bridge over the Blue Nile. For security, the bridge is guarded and you are not supposed to stop while crossing. We discovered this when the guards on both sides of the bridge got very agitated when we stopped for a quick look and a photo. Once we made it over the bridge the guards flagged us down, and we had to wait while they gave us a lecture. They kept going on and on, but we played dumb and pretended to not know why they were scolding us, which wasn’t too difficult since we couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Eventually they realized how unsatisfying it is to yell at someone who isn’t phased by their words, and we were allowed to move on.
It was definitely worth putting up with their scolding to catch a glimpse of the gorge from the bottom. The bridge itself is still quite high above the river, offering a commanding view of the canyon as it winds its way into the distance. We were there at the very, tail end of the dry season, so the water in the Nile was quite low, exposing large, rocky shoals.
Blue Nile seen from the suspension bridge along the Addis Ababa-Bahir Dar Road. Just don’t stop too long on the bridge. It will annoy the guards very much. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Then came the hard part. On the far side of the bridge, the road immediately begins its uphill climb to the southeast rim. Fortunately, there was a large troupe of Olive Baboons hanging out by the side of the road, providing a welcome distraction. They were scattered in small groups all along the first 5 km or so, as we churned our way slowly up the face of the cliff.
And they’re incredibly tame. Lounging along the roadside, they would gaze at us with only mild interest as we passed, while continuing to groom each other or scratch an itch. So it didn’t come as much of a surprise when we saw a couple of people in passing vehicles toss food to them. They were clearly hanging out, waiting for those scraps. That explained the high numbers of baboons, and their lack of fear. Baboons can be pretty aggressive, and the big ones can really hurt a person if they want to, especially if they’re used to being fed and have lost their fear of humans. But these guys seemed pretty chill, and thankfully didn’t show any aggression towards us.
A big troupe of Olive Baboons was a welcome distraction as we started our ascent out of the Blue Nile Gorge. Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
This big guy wasn’t fazed at all as we passed by - although he was probably disappointed some food didn’t accidentally drop out of our panniers. Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
On the downhill side of the ride, we had passed through quite a few small villages, accompanied by a whole lot of yelling of, “money, money, money!” and, “foreigner!” So we were very happy to discover that there were far fewer people on the uphill side, and that they were much friendlier. Being harassed while cycling up a steep hill is the worst.
For the first 10 km uphill, we saw hardly any people at all. The baboons were by far the most numerous residents. And even though the vegetation was sparse, we saw some cool birds, too.
Mocking Cliff-Chat. Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
PedalingGuy’s energy held up really well. But by the 10th kilometer going up hill under very hot sunny conditions, I was in pretty rough shape. Sections of the climb were really steep. And when we’d reach the top and pull over for a break, my chest would be heaving and I could hardly catch my breath. Often I’d feel dizzy for a minute or so, until I could get enough air back into my body that my brain could start to focus again.
I… just… need… a… minute… to breathe. This is what total exhaustion looks like as one gasps for air. Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Then, just as I was getting really worn out and overheated, help arrived in the form of four boys about 12-15 years old. And not a moment too soon. I had gotten off my bike and was pushing it uphill, in order to cross a patch of road that had deteriorated into rocks and gravel and was impossible to ride. The boys eagerly offered to push my bike up the hill for me, and I was too tired to object. Pretty soon, three of them were marching my bike up the hill faster than I could walk, and the other one was helping PedalingGuy push his bike. It was a huge effort to keep up with them, but also a great help. They were absolutely thrilled when PedalingGuy gave a couple of them the opportunity to ride his bike. They managed to keep the rubber on the road, barely.
About a kilometer later, we reached the edge of the village of Filiklik - the only town of any size on this side of the gorge. The road leveled out somewhat, so we said “goodbye” to the boys, and looked for somewhere we could take a break. We found a small shop by the side of the road that had a couple of chairs and some shade from the unrelenting sun. It was perfect. We sat for a while and sipped a couple of cold Cokes while we recovered from the effort to get this far.
But we still had about 7.5 km to go, uphill. For the rest of the afternoon, the views continued to be spectacular. There was a bit of a haze in the air, but as we climbed higher and higher, we could see distant mountains that were probably 50 km away. We took lots of breaks so we could rest and rehydrate. And each time we would sit and marvel at the beauty of the canyon as it wound its way into the distance.
What a gorgeous view. Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Happy with our progress so far. Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
It also was fun to look back down the road, to see where we had come from. Cars, trucks and houses all looked small as we gazed back onto the roads we had just climbed.
Yep, we rode up that big hill. Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
As we approached the top of the gorge, there was a pull-off alongside the road that was spacious enough for a bus. Sure enough, as we approached, a big regional bus pulled off the road and onto the gravel. At first we thought they might be dropping off some passengers at a rural stop. But then everyone piled out of the bus and ran for the bushes. It was a rest stop, and all 40+ passengers were simultaneously scurrying around trying to find a semi-private spot to pee before the bus took off again. Then, one by one, they climbed back onto the bus and it headed up the road.
It was clearly a regular stop along the route, because a small band of local villagers had gathered there to meet the bus selling fresh fruit, snacks and trinkets to the passengers. We also stopped there briefly, before heading up the next hill. As we were getting ready to leave, one of the boys who had been begging picked up some stones, and tried to hide it from us. We know what that means, as soon as you turn your back you are a target.
PedalingGuy told me to head up the road, and he’d handle the kid. He gave the boy his very best, “you are going to be in very big trouble if you throw those rocks in your hand” lecture. He pretended to get very mad, followed by softening his tone and befriending the kid. The boy dropped the stones, and even gave PedalingGuy a fist-bump. That was nice. Nonetheless, from other similar experiences we knew that there was still a chance the boy would pick up the stones again and throw them as we rode away. In this case, PedalingGuy was lucky and managed to make it up the road without a shower of stones in the back.
To my great relief, when we finally reached the lip of the gorge, at around 40 km, the gradient became much more shallow. We were finally able to ride at a faster, more reasonable pace into town. It had taken us ten hours to cross the gorge. There was almost no flat terrain for the entire day. We spent two hours traveling down into the gorge and eight hours cycling our way back out. But we had achieved our goal, and conquered one of the toughest, single-day rides in Africa.
The smile of victory. We conquered the ride across the Blue Nile Gorge, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
In Gohatsion we treated ourselves to a big, comfortable hotel room, plus a dinner of omelettes and vegetable soup.
There’s nothing quite like the feeling of relaxation that comes after a strenuous day of cycling, followed by a satisfying dinner and a comfortable bed. We slept really well that night.
