Merciless winds. Rocks. Heat. Desolation. 
Undrinkable water. Terrible roads. This is how I imagine the aggregate of Lake Turkana, where some of the very oldest human fossils have been discovered and where early hominids, habilis and robustus, roamed for more than 2 million years. My imagination proved not far off. It is hot. The windblown sand scours skin. There is no water for us to drink or use for washing. Since leaving Loiyangalani we have seen no other white people, no travelers. Lake Turkana is windy, barren and inhospitable, difficult to drive to and dangerous, all of these things are true. It is also wild and beautiful and the people who somehow manage to live here are tough as the rocks they walk on. They live in small squat huts 
built of branches and covered with whatever is available – plastic sheeting, cardboard, old fabrics. Anything to hold back the relentless winds and sand. Early hominids did not have these. They did not build or create houses. They used one tool – the rock shard – and only that one tool, unchanged, for a million years. Imagine there is only one iPhone and it is used for millennia. Talk about stuck in a rut. But when you find something that works, stick with it right?
So how did early hominids even get to the point where they 
walked upright on this ragged landscape, using their single tool? How did the quadrupedal creature evolve into the bipedal? We may never know. We do know that in Africa thirty-five million years (!) ago a creature called Aegyptopithecus evolved with ape-like characteristics and eighteen million years after that, Proconsul evolved with a somewhat ape-like anatomy. Then another seventeen million years spin by with little fossil record until Kenyapithecus came into the picture. The earth followed its trail around the sun for still another fifteen million years before 
the hominid forms appeared, these creatures who so graciously left us their bones and footprints fossilized on the land. There are more questions than answers now and the answers lay here in Kenya at Lake Turkana, if anywhere.
In case you were wondering, the time it took us to grind our way over the rocks and out of the lake valley was three hours – a short time span compared to the millions of years this lake has been a part of mankind. Above the lake, on hilltop after hilltop, bright new wind turbines stand tall. The wind is so strong I can hardly open the truck door yet 
none of the turbines are spinning. Someone must have forgotten to plug them in, we laugh. As tools go, these aren’t being used today.
Travel guidebooks, websites and forums will give you advice on how much to tip whom in Africa and how much you might expect to pay for services. They all caution against over-tipping and in some cases that is true, such as when a huge tip might make for little incentive to continue working. But while Jim and I tip whatever we feel like (and after nine months we have a feel) there are situations that cannot be covered by a guidebook or a forum. When this happens you are on your own.
Traveling south after spending a very rainy night in Kitoro we pass over soggy gravel/dirt roads and cross rivers over makeshift bridges without any problem. Then ahead of us we see a long expanse of running water and a lot of men gathered around. Before we could make sense of this we are surrounded by tribesmen. Turkana, Samburu, Maasai, and others crowd three deep around the truck. “We will push you across” the English-speaking tribesman says. “First take the air filter out, then shut off the engine and we will push you through the water.” 
Do what? How deep is the water? They indicate it is up to their waist. We roll up our windows to confer privately and watch as more men walk across – obviously the current isn’t too strong. Yet, anyway. We decide to risk it – to go around is at least a couple days out of our route. Using the engine here would be a disaster, water would surely soak the electronics. Push it is.
As we move about the truck to prepare we are literally embraced by half-naked tribesmen who have no sense of personal space but it is not uncomfortable. This is Africa. There is a confidence coming from them, they have pushed rigs across before us. “How much will this cost?” 50,000 shillings for each of the two channel crossings. OK, now how do we know if that price is too high or low? Do we dicker? Guidebooks aren’t going to help with this. How much are we willing to pay? What if we make it 
across and the car dies anyway should the electronics get wet? We’d be royally screwed at that point. I tell Jim, I bet they get us half way across and then raise the price. Sure enough, the price went up to 75,000 shillings for a total of 150,000 as we reached the far bank. That is about $42USD and worth it, the Beagle is 2,200+ pounds and the far bank was all uphill. I couldn’t believe 15 guys could get a good enough grip to move the truck through the water much less uphill. And the engine starts right up. Success is had and the price paid. This is what money is for.
But another group of local travelers did not fare so well. The engine on their Toyota would not start and we towed them 40 kilometers on the dirt road to the next town. A good deed, with many god bless yous given for our time. Hope it turns out ok for 
them. On we go, this time on a paved road. Boy, are we in dire need a car wash and we will tip well for it. Why not? This too is what money is for.
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