We hit the Bankass Tele road and decided to ride up the Falaise du Bandiagara (cliffs) before going to see the Dogon Villages. Really, since I decide to do this trip a year ago, riding my bike on that road was sure to be a highlight. The road has a pretty steep grade, goes from cement to gravel, to sand, and back again. It twists upward, exposing streams that turn into waterfalls, dogon villages tucked away in the distance, and an amazing view over the plains. Arriving at the top just after sunrise literally moved me in an amazing way. As I sat there on the bike the whole thing took my breath away and I thanked God for getting me to this point. I leaned over and told JJ that if we left now it'd all been worth it. I'm pretty sure he wasn't impressed but I sure was. I soaked it in for a minute and then fired the bike up and headed down the cliffs. Enjoying every turn, shutting the bike off sometimes just to hear how quite it really was. We got down off the escarpament and turned left to go to the Dogon village Tele. The road was quite sandy, so I hit the throttle and plowed on. Turning toward the waterfall, which was now just a trickle, the sand got over 12" deep so I turned the wheel hard and gassed it, letting the front wheel break the bike and the back spin the bike around. I got it turned around just in time to see JJ slow-motion fall to the ground. His first time in sand. I helped him get the bike up and turned it around for him and we then drove to the small campement on the left side of the road to get a cold coke (pictured). We found a guide, well better said a guide found us quickly, and I chatted with him to see what he was like. Turns out Gabriel Guindo, an accomplished guide who guided for President Bush when he came to Mali years ago, spoke several languages fluently and was a perfect match. If you're going to Dogon land, email him at guindo_gabriel@yahoo.fr . Gabriel took us up into the village and even though it was my second time there, I enjoyed it just the same. We got a lot of attention there for the bikes and I enjoyed showing people the different "toys" I had for the trip. Everyone said we'd be able to take the donkey path along the villages on the bikes so we headed out around 10 a.m. to tackle the cliff road.
The cliffs were amazingly beautiful after passing the village of Ende. Huge towers of rock shot up off the cliffs, sometimes as towers, other times as mushrooms, but every time amazing. The road was tough, even for me, and JJ was really showing some fortitude by sticking in with it. About 1 1/2 hours into the ride the sand started getting really deep. Up to this point i'd been able to throttle through it, staying stood up in second gear. I got up some speed but stayed seated instead of standing up. The sand got deep, the front wheel started plowing and pulling to the left and as I felt myself starting to fall I put my foot down to try to stand up off it and let it go. Unfortunately, my saddle bags were fat and instead of letting me step off the bike the bag grabbed my leg and as the bike lurched forward my foot, pinned against the embankment and bike, was forced to turn backward as the bike threw me to the ground. I didn't realize any of this until I tried to get up, sensing the agony from my ankle. My hips and right leg are facing forward but my left leg is turned and my foot is facing backwards. The other problem was that because the bike was so much on top of me my right thigh was getting burned badly on the motor. When I lifted it up the weight went to my ankle so I had to shift back and forth between the two. My chest was pressed against the imbankment and while usually i've got ample strength for any task, i was useless. I knew JJ would be behind me but I wasn't sure how far. Some time later, maybe 5-10 minutes later, I could hear his bike so I started screaming. By now the pain was making me go crazy and although up to this point I'd controlled my breathing, seeing him rounding the corner made me lose it. The only problem was that he hadn't seen me yet. So he crawled down the ditch and back up, rolling slowly, until finally he saw and hear my screaming. JJ dropped his bike and on his second time got the weight off my ankle, allowing me to free myself. He thought it was broken by looking at it, and to be honest, so did I. Somehow though, everything was sore, but nothing severly hurt. The burns blistered on my thigh but I had my Adventure Travel Kit with burn care so I treated it, covered it, and within 3 days the pain was gone. For the day my ankle really didn't even bother me, even though it hurt like crazy that night.
We pressed on for another 3/4 mile but soon JJ buried his bike in sand, we dug it out, talked with a local who said it only got worse from there and I belatedly agreed to turn around and go back. This Dogon route was to be an epic part of the trip, going where few had gone, but with my injury and the inadequacy of the BMW FS650 to perform off road, we decided we had to turn back. I called Grace to tell her what happened and eerily Grace had sensed it just minutes after it happened and had been in prayer since the accident. We talked with some guides about routes, one of which would have run the top of the cliffs and then dropped down off of them, JJ had experienced enough off roading for the day.
The decision to take the tarmac meant 300km to do with the sun on it's way down. We decided to push forward to try to shave one of the days off for JJ so we road hard from Bandiagara to Sevare and then to Doentza that afternoon. We gassed up in Bandiagara at the station next to the White Horse Hotel and a guy tried to sell me drugs. This guy was pretty distracting, my leg hurt, and JJ then knocked a scooter over with his bike. While all this was going on I got my gas and pulled forward to catch my head. I'd left my backpack, which the dearler brought to me, and then JJ noticed the Ching Shen tire i'd strapped on the back was being ruined by hitting the new kenda when i hit bumps. It had plenty of clearance when I wasn't on it, but my weight and the bumps had nearly cut through the side wall. I saw an old man on a Yamaha 125 at the station with the same size rim and ran it over to him, much to his appreciation. It was good to see him drive off with it, smiling with his prize. Even though it'd never handled the punishment to come, for him it'll probably serve a year or more. The road from Bandiagara to Doentza was great, amazing views and rock formations and a steady hot wind. The guys at the gas station said it was 120k to Doentza, it ended up being over 200km. The road was mostly good, but about 50k to Doentza the road breaks down into tons of potholes. As you approach the city the cliffs get closer on the right and two amazing towers of rock cover the horizon on the left where the road turns to Timbuktu. We got there at 5:30pm and tried to go to Chez Jerome, which was closed. Apparently he's been in France for the last year settling some legal matter. We headed up the road to Campement Hogon. This camp was pretty dingy, but they let us camp on the roof. I cooked dinner on the camp stove, set up tents, and took a shower in the incredibly hot bathroom downstairs. To be honest, I was quite wiped out and my ankle began to swell and shoot pain when I put weight on it. It didn't matter though because we were there, 1/2 a mile from the Timbuktu road. A good nights sleep and a 5:30 a.m wake up the next day.
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