Sudan has always been one of the countries I was most looking forward to visiting.  In my mind, Sudan is where where the adventure would begin in earnest.  I was right.  Gone were luxuries such as hotels, air conditioning, and tarmac.  Instead we have been treated to otherwordly desert landscapes, exhilirating riding, and the friendliest people of the trip.  We camped in the empty vastness of the Nubian desert under a full moon.  We have been invited into people's homes for food and tea in remote Nubian villages.  We have put ourselves to the test against the most challenging terrain we have yet encountered, including deep sand and dust, loose rock, hard ruts, and dry riverbeds.

In many ways the riding in Sudan reminds me of Bolivia - you pick your own route from a series of tracks leading off into the open desert.  The major difference is Bolivia was shockingly cold whereas Sudan is shockingly hot. 

The challenging riding conditions, while incredibly fun, have also led to some mishaps.  We've all come off our bikes multiple times.  The riding has been particularly challenging for Jerry, as his knee still cannot support the weight of his bike, causing him to drop it more often than he would otherwise.  He also is unable to pick up his bike by himself.  On one occaision, he managed to get his leg pinned underneath a pelican case when his bike went over.  He was unable to free himself.  Fortunately I was close by (having just picked up my own bike) and heard him screaming and ran over to lift the bike.  I am happy to report that Jerry emerged unscathed.  Despite the drops and episodes of getting stuck in the deep sand, Jerry has done remarkably well considering most of the conditions we've run across over the past couple of days he was facing for the first time - and with an injury.  It was a solid performance from a guy who just got his motocycle license last November.

Tom's worst spill happened when he hit a dip full of soft dust that gripped his rear tire, sending him flying.  Other than a nasty looking bruise, and a head to toe coating of dust, he came out no worse than he went in. 

My own scariest moment came in similiar conditions.  I was riding through a layer of dust several inches deep.  It was like riding through talcum powder, and my rear tire was sliding around.  I thought I saw some solid ground way off to the right and decided to make a bee-line for it.  Unfortunately the desert had other ideas.

Between me and the solid ground I sought was an area at the bottom of a small hill filled with what I thought was even deeper powder.  There were ruts a foot deep cutting across my path where it looked like a truck had powered through.  I wanted to avoid the hot unappealing task of digging and pushing my bike out.  Thus, to avoid getting bogged down in the soft stuff, I gunned the throttle and stood up on the pegs.  It would have worked if it had indeed been foot-deep talcum powder.  It was not.  Yes, there was a thin layer of powder a few inches deep on the surface.  However, the ruts were actually formed from dried mud as hard as cement. 

When I hit the first rut at speed, my suspension bottomed out sending me straight up into the air.  My bike achieved lift-off as well, as evidenced by the 4 foot gap in my motorcycle track where my bike launched itself over the lip of the rut.  With me in the air, my riderless bike started leaning to the left.  My bike and I fell together in a heap.  My leg was pinned at an awkward angle underneath the bike.  I felt a sharp pain in my knee followed by numbness.  There was a moment when I thought I had seriously hurt myself.  Luckily, when I pulled my leg free, I had full range of motion and could put all my weight on it.  Other than some joint-line tenderness, I am fine.  Whew.

Two nights ago, as I was riding through the Sudanese desert at sunset, with nothing but sand and rock formations bathed in crimson light as far as the eye could see, I realized there was no other place I'd rather be.  This was even better than I had hoped Sudan would be, even though I had high expectations to begin with.  What a stunningly beautiful country.   

Sudan's beauty is only matched by the friendliness and generosity of its people.  We've had people chase us down the street because we left a tip and they wanted to return it to us.  It seems like every village we pass through is full of people waving us over to join them for food and tea.  We've taken them up on a few of these offers.  For example, while waiting for Tom and Jerry to catch up one morning, I stopped at a school after getting waved over.  I was fed breakfast and tea.  Soon, I found myself surrounded by schoolchildren.  I read some lessons from their English reader, and felt like a movie star being the centre of attention.

Later, we decided to rest in a village during the intense heat of midday.  After a pleasant conversation with some of the locals over cold drinks, we decided to leave our bikes and hike down to the Nile to have a nap under the palms.  We left our helmets, gloves - just about everything we owned - with our bikes, which were about 500 metres away in the centre of the village.  We were completely confident that everything would still be there when we returned.  I cannot say that about too many places I have visited.  We could have taped money to our windscreens and nobody would have taken it.  The Sudan that I have seen is probably one of the safest places on the planet.

That's why the suffering in the Darfur is so heartbreaking.  It is almost impossible to believe that such horror could exist in the same country as I have just experienced.

Sudan is not an easy country to visit, which makes being here even more satisfying.  The visa application/approval process is complex and time consuming (although it can be done quickly in Cairo).  The only "overland" route into the country from Egypt involves a 17 hour ride on a hot overcrowded ferry bookended by seemingly endless red tape.  The process was lengthened even more because we had to wait an extra day in Wadi Halfa for the barge carrying our motorcycles to arrive, and the whole red tape process was replayed again before we finally rode our bikes into Sudan.

Because the ferry only sails once a week, it acts as a bottleneck to bring together everyone traveling overland from north to south together.  We met up with two fellow Canadians, Sam and Peter, who were both riding KLRs.  I had exchanged emails with Sam before leaving Canada after he stumbled across my blog and saw that we would be heading in the same direction at about the same time.  They hope to make it all the way to Cape Town by August 19th, putting them on an even tighter schedule than us.  I enjoyed meeting Sam and Peter in the flesh in Egypt.  It was great hanging out with them on the ferry and later in Wadi Halfa while we waited for the bikes.  The last time I saw them was in Dongola the day before yesterday.  Peter had gone over the handlebars and badly bruised his ribs.  His mule may have taken the worst of it though with a possible bent frame.  I wish him well and hope to see him and Sam again on our way south.  You can follow their adventures on their blog.

We also met up with Steffen, a German riding a classic Tenere.  He had stumbled across this blog, so we were in email contact even before he arrived in Aswan and saw our KLRs parked on the sidewalk in front of the Nile hotel.  The Nile hotel was also the temporary home of a group of 4 Italians.  2 of them were on motorcycles (including a beautiful KTM Adventure 990) and 2 of them rode in a support truck.  I have spent many miles wondering what goodies they have in the back of that truck.  Is there a fully functional kitchen?  Do they make waffles and omelets every morning?  Do they have a cooler full of ice cold drinks?  There must be some spare parts in there too somewhere.  It makes me wonder how we can possibly do this trip without a support vehicle.  The Italians are seasoned adventurerers, having gone on several round-the-world trips in the past, including a rare trip from Europe all the way to Beijing. 

Last but not least, we also met up with a couple, Andrew and Debbie, traveling by Land Rover from London to South Africa (http://www.wheahwe.blogspot.com/).  They are actually moving back to South Africa after living in the UK for 9 years.  They are allowing themselves over 6 months for their "move", including a month at Debbie's family's farm in Zambia.  What a perfect way to move.

For the past 2 nights we have been staying in the luxurious Bougainvilla Guesthouse in Khartoum.  It is a hang-out for ex-pats and people working for NGOs, etc.  This morning while having a coffee on the villa's pleasant rooftop patio, I had a conversation with Shereen Zorba, the deputy spokersperson for the AU-UN mission in Darfur.  She was excited by our trip and within minutes was phoning her reporter contacts.  I did a phone interview with a Khartoum newspaper reporter.  Our story is supposed to appear in tomorrow's edition.  I won't know what it will actually say because it is in Arabic.  If it says that I am the team leader, that is clearly a translation issue.  At one point I was asked if I thought that the ICC's indictment of President Bashir for alleged war crimes in Darfur (big news in Sudan) would affect the distribution of ressources for HIV treatment.  I was certainly in no position to give an informed opinion, and I said as much.

Shereen also put me in touch with Jennie Matthews, who works for AFP (Agence France Press).  Jennie and two cameramen came to the Bougainvilla this afternoon.  They took us out for a ride along the Nile.  It looked like they were getting some great action shots of us riding our bikes through dunes.  They'll also have some money shots of a group of kids pushing Jerry's bike out of the sand.  Jennie interviewed us about our trip when we got back.  Any press coverage we get would go a long ways towards raising awareness of Dignitas and Riders for Health.

Tomorrow, after a delicious Bougainvilla breakfast, we intend to cover as much of the 572 km to the Ethiopian border as we can.  After the stiffling heat of the Sahara, we are looking forward to the green cool mountains that await.