🚗 The Journey Begins: Nairobi to Suswa Town
It’s 6:00 AM and Nairobi is still quiet as you load up your 4×4 with gear, snacks, and that first wave of anticipation. The road out of the city winds through Kikuyu’s misty hills and into the dramatic descent of the Mai Mahiu Escarpment — a jaw-dropping stretch that opens up the Great Rift Valley like a cinematic reveal.
By the time you hit the base, the sun’s rising behind you, spilling golden light across flatlands dotted with acacia trees. You swing through Mai Mahiu town, grab firewood or last-minute supplies, and continue another 45 minutes to Suswa town, a rugged outpost on the Narok highway that feels like a gateway to somewhere forgotten.
🚙 The Road to the Mountain
From Suswa town, you leave the tarmac behind — literally. The road turns rough, rocky, and completely unmarked. You need a 4×4. Or nerves of steel. The track carves across wide savannah, past Maasai herders wrapped in shukas, past goats skipping over volcanic rock. There are no signs, no barriers, no fences — just open land and a sky so vast it swallows you whole.
About 14km in, you arrive at the base of the mountain, greeted by local Maasai gatekeepers, who collect entrance and camping fees. If you’ve arranged a guide, this is where you meet them — often dressed in traditional attire, spear in hand, grin on face, ready to lead you into their backyard.
🏞️ The Ascent: Hiking the Outer Crater Rim
The hike begins on the outer slopes, a steady but manageable climb across dusty volcanic earth, basalt boulders, and scattered dry grass. There’s no manicured trail — just goat paths, foot tracks, and the rhythm of your boots.
As you ascend, the views explode. Behind you, the floor of the Rift Valley stretches endlessly, the SGR railway slicing across it like a toy line. Around you, wind whips across ancient lava ridges. The higher you climb, the cooler the air gets, and the more surreal the landscape becomes.
Reaching the outer crater rim is a jaw-drop moment. You look down, and the inner crater reveals itself — a second, deeper bowl hidden inside the mountain, ringed by cliffs and dense, circular forest at its base. It looks untouched. Like something out of a different century.
🕳️ Into the Earth: Exploring the Lava Caves
After soaking in the crater views, your guide might lead you down toward the lava caves — a maze-like system of volcanic tunnels formed by molten rock long ago. One minute you’re in open bush; the next, you’re squeezing through a cool crack in the ground.
Inside, it’s silent and dark. The Baboon Parliament Cave — a massive chamber with soot-blackened walls — is especially eerie. Baboons actually sleep here at night, and you can see their tracks and bones. Sunlight streams in from cracks above, cutting through the dust in golden beams. It feels sacred.
Bring a headlamp. Bring humility. These caves are wild, raw, and unforgettable.
⛺ Overnight Camping on the Crater Rim
As the sun begins to drop, you set up camp. Most people choose a flat section near the outer rim, close enough to the caves, but far enough to feel completely alone.
There’s no light pollution here. When the stars come out, it’s like someone spilled diamonds across black velvet. The Milky Way is visible. You can hear distant hyenas cackling in the valley below. You build a small fire with local firewood, cook your dinner by flashlight, and listen — really listen — to the silence.
It’s chilling. Beautiful. You sleep in a tent under a universe that’s alive above you.
🌄 Day 2: The Inner Crater (Optional but Rewarding)
With a guide, you can descend into the inner crater the next morning. It’s steep and slippery, but manageable. The crater floor is its own micro-ecosystem — green, shaded, with trails that feel like they’ve been walked for centuries. There are no animals here — at least not that you see — but the forest pulses with birdsong and wind.
You emerge later, sweaty and smiling, standing once again on the crater’s edge, knowing you’ve walked through the body of a volcano.
🎒 What You’ll Remember
- The absolute silence — no traffic, no generators, no phones
- The sheer scale of the double crater, more dramatic than any photo could show
- The smell of scorched rock and dry grass
- The stars — brighter than anywhere else you’ve been
- The Maasai guide’s stories, passed down across generations
- The sense of isolation and discovery, like you’ve gone somewhere most people never will
📌 Final Thoughts
Hiking Mount Suswa isn’t just a trek. It’s a pilgrimage into the past, a living classroom of geology, culture, and raw wilderness. You won’t find manicured trails or reception bars. But you’ll find something wilder. Something purer.
And when you leave — dusty, tired, maybe sunburned — you’ll already be planning your return.