The 2022 Africa Journals, Chapter 19: There are Game Drives and then there are GAME DRIVES!

 Chapter 19:

There are Game Drives and then there are GAME DRIVES!

"But African time was not the same as American time…As African time passed, I surmised that the pace of Western countries was insane, that the speed of modern technology accomplished nothing, and that because Africa was going its own way at its own pace for its own reasons, it was a refuge and a resting place.”-Paul Theroux

We landed at Keekorok airstrip around 11 A.M. and walked into the welcoming arms of our African guides.   It felt like we were being welcomed home, even this is only my second time lodging at Enkewa camp.

Keekorok is located near where all the roads come together in the lower right.    Enkewa camp is in the area southwest of the airstrip.

The guys load all our luggage  except cameras into one vehicle and it heads immediately to camp.   

The camp Land Rovers appear to be brand new and I recall the owner, Jose, telling us he had ordered new vehicles just before the COVID pandemic hit and closed down so many camps in Kenya.

I climb into a three-row truck with Peter driving and I expect he will follow the luggage truck.  Pretty soon I realize we aren't passing any familiar landmarks.   We are also on a Ferrari Safari, which is what we call driving far too fast for scanning the landscape for animals

Peter has the two-way radio on high volume.   This is unusual because almost all the guides are now using cell phones for communicating privately with each other.

I lean back, hold on, and imagine that Peter is a young man with his first hot car and loud radio blasting across the savannah.   I'm not far off.

We come upon a herd of zebras and wildebeest and Peter slows down to let the animals cross the track.

First stop:   some beautiful Coke's hartebeest, so-called because the shape of their horns resembles a heart.

A large antelope at  46 inches at the shoulder, these animals weigh a little over 300  lbs.    They prefer dry savannah and forested woodlands, and will often move to more arid regions after rainfalls.    They have been spotted at the 13,000 ft. elevation on Mt. Kenya.

Hartebeest share similar traits with wildebeest, topi, and blesbok in that they have elongated heads with forequarter sloping to hind quarters.    There are several varieties of hartebeest, with a couple having become extinct.

Next, I ask Peter to stop ("Oh, look! A calf!") so we can photograph two eland with a calf.    Can't miss calves, no matter what species.

The common eland is the largest antelope at up to 6 ft. at the shoulder and males weighing up to 2200 lbs.   While they are the slowest antelope at 25 mph, they can jump 10 feet from a standing start.   Males have a large dewlap and are really impressive animals.

This is an interesting item from Seaword.com:   When walking, tendon or joints in the eland's foreleg produce a sharp clicking sound, the cause of which has not been widely investigated. The sound carries some distance and is a good indication of an approaching herd. Some scientists believe it may be a form of communication; if a male is walking through his territory, the clicking which can be heard for up to a mile away, may alert another eland about this territory.

We leave the elands and soon slow again for a herd of zebra and wildebeest.   The zebra are blocking the track, so Peter moves forward slowly.

Then, the reason for the rush appears.   A leopard was spotted earlier and the guides are taking us to see it.   

I laugh to myself at something Marg said a few years ago:  "These guys are hard-wired to find leopards."    She and I were once lined up to take photos of elephants against the horizon at sunset.   Suddenly the guide yelled at us to get back in the truck.  

Then they raced down into a gully--and there was a famous female leopard known as Fig, who was walking through a scrum of safari vehicles.    It was too dark for photos.

We missed the elephants on the horizon.

Our first look at this leopard.

She moves into a ditch where she is partially concealed and carefully scans for game.    Then she moves back into the depression and walks along it, closer to the main herd.

Leopards are beautiful and impressive cats.

Leopards are about 6 feet in length and females weigh up to 88 lbs, with males weighing 130 lbs.   They are powerfully built cats that can carry their prey up a tree to protect ion from other animals that might steal it.

Leopards are primarily nocturnal so seeing one out in the daylight at noon is exceptional.   No wonder we were in such a rush.

It is remarkable how close the herd animals are as the leopard watches for the right one--a calf, or a sick or wounded animal.   Some even wander closer to her, apparently unaware of her presence.

Apparently she doesn't see a likely catch, so she lies down in the grass.   That's where we leave her to continue our drive.

Fifteen minutes later, the guides find two female cheetahs roaming through the grasslands and brush.   They are sisters, out one their own though they still have mantles on the back of their necks.   A mantle is a long patch of hair that helps camouflage cheetah cubs.

Cheetahs have long bodies--four feet plus another two or three feet of tail.   They weigh from 75 to 120 lbs.

Their sprint speed has been measured at 71 mph, though they can exceed that when pursuing game.

When big cats are spoken of, cheetahs are generally included.   Some internet sites claim that they aren't true cats because they can't roar.

A video for you.   Our guide, Dominick, suggested the names Napi (Brave) and Nanyorri (Beloved).   The names were adopted.   This was a first sighting of these two out on their own.

It's a video!   Play it!

Some information from Britannica on what makes cheetahs are so special:

Cheetahs have evolved many adaptations that enhance their ability to sprint. Their legs are proportionally longer than those of other big cats; an elongated spine increases stride length at high speeds; they have unretractable claws, special paw pads for extra traction, and a long tail for balance. Internally, the liver, adrenal glands, lungs, bronchi, nasal passages, and heart are all large to allow intense physiological activity. During a chase, cheetahs take about 3¹/₂ strides per second and 60 to 150 breaths per minute. 

Like most cats, cheetahs are very affectionate with each other and will often groom each other, as this one is doing to her sister.

Do you see the longish hair on the back of the neck and shoulder?   That is called a mantle and is a form of camouflage for young cubs.   Note the long tail.   That acts like a rudder and also stabilizes the cat at high speed.

We spend a lot of time with the cheetah sisters and leave when they seem to be ready for a nap.

We are heading in the direction of camp now and come across some elephants with very young calves.

This calf is so young you wonder how it can reach high enough to suckle.

Finally I recognize the scenery and realize we are close to "home."

But, before we get there, we see the third and last members of the Big Cats of Africa-- lioness with her two cubs.

All three of the Big Cats in one drive--leopard, cheetahs, and lions!    And we haven't even reached camp from the airstrip.. Phenomenal!

KUDOS to our guides!!!

Can't forget the jackal pup we see.

And then, we roll into camp.   Happy with the drive, happy with the camp and happy, happy with lunch that featured broiled chicken and salad, topped off my personal favorite--the Chocolate Amarula Mug.

The Maasai Mara National Reserve, where we are now, is the tiny dark green spot at left, on the border with Tanzania.   It covers 580 square miles.   It is unfenced and conservancies along its upper borders increase the habitat for animals.

This map shows Kenya on the east coast of the continent at the equator.

Dear Clyde, I am so sorry about your favorite dining room set....

 NOTE:   Hours after I woke this morning from a strange dream, I remained so affected by the look in the ape's eyes that I wrote the story down, trying to get some control over my feelings.    Once it was down on the computer, I figured I'd inflict it upon you.   Enjoy

I walk into the Dimond Mall (correct spelling) near the zoo and see a sign asking for the donation of foam cushions and other flammable material.   I look into the sunken zoo and see hippos, lions, and various other creatures wandering around on the tiled floor in what looks to me like a swimming pool with no water in it.

 

A woman had fallen into the Olympic-sized swimming pool/zoo and was fatally bitten by a hippopotamus a couple days ago.   She had fallen from the open balcony of a fine-dining venue that overlooked the zoo.  (There IS a Dimond Mall in Anchorage.   It does not have a zoo or even a swimming pool.   It does have a skating rink.)

 

The zoo has decided to euthanize the hippo, named Hugo, and relieve the carcass of its head for examination.  The cushions are needed to provide space under the fallen hippo so straps can be installed to hoist the beast onto a table for autopsy and then for fuel to cremate the carcass.   All in view of the public, which has now crowded around the sunken zoo.

 

By coincidence, a girlfriend’s favorite dining set is nearby as is an old couch of mine.   I strip the furniture of the cushions and throw them into the zoo.  Each piece lands perfectly next to the others.   The animals, by this time, have been removed.   Only Hugo the Hippo is in the pit.  As luck would have it, that furniture is enough to cover the entire bottom of this large arena.

 

That done, I go in search of my girlfirend to explain what I’ve done and why.   I find her and her three children sitting in another part of the vast mall.   As I’m explaining, a large, sedated ape is asleep on some nearby foam bolsters.   She stirs, rolls over, and holds out her left hand to me. 

 

The look in her eyes is one of pleading for empathy and help so I reach out and touch the heel of her hand. This ape, named Joy, is the mother of Hugo (who is a hippo, mind you) and she is frantic with worry about him.

 

She stands and offers her arm to me.   I take her elbow and she leads me down the mall to the security entrance of the zoo.   She holds her hand to a scanner, then holds her eye to the optical scanner.   She passes the check, but we walk around that entrance and go to a wide-open public entrance, manned only by a receptionist.

 

Joy and I walk past her and descend part-way into the zoo/pool by a staircase.  One of the biologists stops her and tells her she should not be here.  The deceased Hugo, whose head now resembles a rhinocerus, is already on the autopsy table.

 

I leave Joy with the keepers, ascend the stairs, and ask the receptionist if an animal behaviorist is available to talk with.  I’m asked to leave my name and number, which of course I can’t remember.   I think the behaviorist would be quite interested in learning of my inter-action with Joy, but I am dismissed.

 

I return to my friend, whose favorite dining set I destroyed and will be used to fuel a fire to cremate Hugo’s remains (all in full view of the public).   Shortly, a medical tech appears and asks me if I am the one who walked with Joy, and when I respond in the affirmative, she tells me that I must come with her to be put into quarantine because I might have been exposed to some (twenty-letter) bacteria.

 

I will have to spend the night until staff has an opportunity to test me for the (twenty-letter) bacteria and get the results.

 

I’m escorted to Room #4.   When the door opens, the room is no wider than a regular elevator car, with doors on each end like some elevators cars.   A handsome young man occupies one bed.   There is a short, half-length curtain meant to provide privacy, with maybe two feet in between the cots.   I am told to change into the hospital garment.

 

I decide that if I’m going to spend the night here, I am going to get something to eat first, so I wander off into the mall again.   I wind up in an area where several other people are waiting for the zoo medical team to see them.  I tell staff I’d like something to eat and shortly someone arrives with a huge hamburger piled high with fries and with more fries on the side.   

 

There are also a Coke in an 8-oz. glass, a six-pack of Heineken beer, and a large bottle of red wine.   I devour the burger, the Coke, a bottle of beer, and a third of the wine.   (That should be enough to put me in a coma for a week, if not kill me outright.)

 

Suddenly I’m in a wheelchair.   I start offering beer and wine to the other patients.  My “roommate” Bob is there, but he declines.   I pass out the remaining five bottles of Heineken and open them with a tiny bottle opener hanging from my backpack. (Yes, a backpack.   I also have a duffle bag, and another satchel.)

 

I learn Bob’s story.   He is a safety guard on a new extensive toll road/bridge that crosses Westchester valley in Anchorage, from 15^th Ave to Fireweed Lane.   (This completely imagined road/bridge has figured into several other of my dreams.)

 

One night a few days ago, Bob spotted a man trying to sneak under the bridge without paying the toll.  The man jumped from the bridge.   Bob also jumped off the bridge, after reading all the Miranda, safety warnings, of course, and landed on the man.   The 50-foot drop almost kills both of them.   Instead of going to a hospital, Bob has come to the zoo medical staff for assistance.   He is in tough shape.

 

Still overwhelmed by the interaction with Joy the ape, I go in search of a notebook so I can spend the time in my cell writing it all down.   I find a bookstore that sells notebooks.   One that had about four pages sells for $17.95.   I keep looking.   A used notebook, with all the pages written on, is $.80 and I decided to buy that one.    (This notebook thing is another recurring theme in my dreams.)

 

Before I get to the cashier, though, I spot a red, leather-bound notebook with Margaret R Wood printed on its cover.   I look inside and there is a small woolen scarf carefully folded inside a pocket.  I remove it, intending to send it to my friend Marg.   I buy the notebook for $.90, and return to my “cell.”   Down in the sunken zoo, staff is cremating Hugo.

 

My gear is on a trolley that I’m pushing in front of my wheelchair.   When I open the door to my cell, the rear door opens also and my gear trolley, along with Marg’s notebook, go sailing through and into the zoo pit, which, unaccountably, is filling with water even as Hugo is being cremated.

 

I look around my cell as staff rush to snag my gear from the water, overlooking Marg’s bright red notebook.   Bob, in his agony, has peed his bed, the walls (including mine), and the floor clear out into the mall aisle.

 

I wheel my chair to the zoo receptionist and tell her of Bob’s mishap.   “You’re supposed to be in quarantine,” she scolds.   I don’t tell her about my foray to get lunch or passing out beer and wine to the other patients, who now are contaminated also  if I’m contaminated.

 

A couple guys arrive with a mop bucket and start cleaning up Bob’s pee mess.   That’s when the dream ends.

 

 ***

 

 No wonder I woke up tired.

 

 

 

 

The 2022 African Journals, Chapter 18: The Misfits Leave Tsavo West National Park

 Chapter 18:

The Misfits Leave Tsavo West NP

The difference between chirping out of turn and a faux pas

depends on what kind of bar you're in.--Wilson Mizner

After last night, it's probably a good thing we're leaving Finch Hattons luxury resort this morning.   The Canadians started it.    The two Americans joined in whole-heartedly, leaving staff no doubt as to where we stood on the scale of cultural finesse.

It began innocently enough.   Randy and Sylvia were off on a trip to a rhino reserve and weren't expected back until late.   That left Randy's five other wives climbing wearily out of the Land Rover after the late game drive and staggering toward the main pavilion under the weight of all our gear. 

Marg, hereinafter know as the instigator of trouble and good ideas, said,   "I'm going to have a grilled cheese sandwich with French fries for dinner.”

"GOOD IDEA!"  chorused the rest of us.

And we did.   We sat down at the table covered with a pressed white cloth, candles,  and an array of wine glasses and ordered grilled cheese sandwiches with fries all around.   Someone told the waiter to give the chef our apologies.   After all, we still wanted breakfast in the morning.

Did we get two slices of American cheese food product on white Wonder bread?   No, our dinner came with homemade bread (crusts trimmed) and white cheese of some kind.   Plus, regular fries like you get in America and Canada.  It was the perfect dinner.

A meal fit for barbarians.   It was one of our favorites of the whole trip.

We opt to skip the morning game drive.   There is  packing to be done and we have to be at the airstrip for our flight to Nairobi.   Yes, we have to fly all the way back to Wilson airport in Nairobi and catch another flight to the Keekorok airstrip in the Maasai Mara to get to our next camp.   Each flight was about 35 minutes, so it was no big deal.

Some staff express surprise that we don't want a game drive in the morning and mention that another party went out in the field every chance they had.   Well, good for their enthusiasm.    Frankly, we seemed to cover the same couple miles, saw the same rock hyrax, the same giraffe at the bend in the road, and the same scenery every time we went out.  Game was limited and in deep brush.  It seemed like we never got more than a couple miles from the lodge, except for the night we went to the Maasai Olympics.

Plus, we are spoiled from being in places where game is plentiful and easier to focus a lens on.   And we are looking forward to our next camp.

I want to emphasize that these opinions are my own, and only mine.   I enjoyed my time at Finch Hattons.   It was restful and pleasant and a very nice lodge.

That is not to advise against going to Finch Hattons.   It is a lovely resort and there's lots of action around the water.   Staff does everything within its power to please and the food is very good.

In the morning, we have breakfast, say goodbye to staff, and to the hippos in the water.   The airstrip is only minutes away.

The weather this morning is grand and I get a clear shot of Mt. Kilimanjaro before leaving Tsavo West National Park.

Marg debarking in Nairobi at Wilson airport.

We get some snacks and cold sodas from the lounge  at AirKenya and then board a plane for the flight to Keekorok in the Maasai Mara.

Waiting at the airstrip there is a line of safari vehicles.   Somewhere in there are the vehicles that will take us to Enkewa.    

The Enkewa guides spot us immediately and soon we are saying hello and hugging them.   Marg has been here a number of times.   This is my second time and I feel like I'm going to my second home.

There are a number ri of camps serviced by this airstrip.   They all aren't waiting for us.

And we're on our way.   But, wait.   I don't recognize this route!!!

That drive was so unusual that it requires a post all its own, so I will close this one for now.

The 2022 African Journals, Chapter 17: Olympians All

 

Chapter 17:

Olympians All

 

Never put an age limit on your dream.

-Dana Torres, four- time Olympic swimming champion.

 

 

 

I’m spending some free time on my lovely deck at Finch Hatton resort, trying to catch a pied kingfisher diving into the water and coming out with a fish.    It’s a challenge with  inherent monumental frustration, but oh-so-fun.   You never know where the bird is going to hit the water.

 

All you can do is focus on the bird as it hovers and try to follow its quick flight path from side to side and up and down.   Then, depend on your reflexes and fast shutter speed to catch something.   Anything.   I could get them coming out of the water, but not going into it.

 

On the way to lunch, a Skyes monkey is spotted high up in a tree by the bridge and we all try to get photos but it’s well hidden by branches.   Yes, we are armed with our cameras because of the sunbirds in the flowering bush beside the dining area.   Staff has set baskets on side tables for us to place our cameras in, rather than putting them on the floor.

 

We fill the baskets and the rest go on the floor.

 

After lunch, I’m back on the deck and a bunch of Syke’s monkeys appear across the narrow neck of water beside my tent.  After a while, I see one on the shore the and watch it.   It approaches a long-dead tree trunk and sits down.

Then it sticks its hand into the log, withdraws it, and licks its hand.  Not until I get the photos on my computer do I see what it is eating and even then I’m not sure with it is. 

You need a lot of room to include the tail in a photo.

Note how wet the monkeys hand looks.

 

 

Some small, whitish things can be seen on its hand and lips.   Other photos show a sticky, slimy substance somewhat like saliva or honey.   The monkey carefully licks its hand, turning it over and inspecting it for more, and then puts it back in the log.

 

These are several guesses:   termite eggs or some other kind of insect eggs.   As for the slimy stuff, I’m left with saliva, and that’s a poor guess.

 

 

Later, we’re out on our game drive.  

 

Tsavo scenery

The vervets came out to play on the lawn at camp.

Vervets

Vervets

Suddenly, the driver turns and heads back in the direction of camp but instead of turning in the drive, he drives farther than we have even been from the lodge.   On and on we go with this Ferrari Safari, and then he takes us down a hill and into a flat meadow.

 

A tent is set up with a table full of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages and an assortment of cheeses, nuts, and crackers.   It’s what’s called a sundowner, but this one requires audience participation beyond eating and drinking.

A tall, slender Maasai is holding a spear and shield.   This is Isaac and he is posing for us.

 

I ask him to look fierce and that brings a smile to his face.  

 

“No, fierce.   Mean.”    He giggles.

 

No matter how solemn he tries to look there is always the hint of a smile.   Our ribbing doesn’t help.

This is as  fierce a look as Isaac can manage.

We are going to be treated to the Maasai Olympics, a demonstration of the three traditional Maasai warrior weapons:   a spear, a bow and arrow, and a rungu (akin to a knobkerrie).

 

The spiel is that the tradition of boys having to kill a lion with a spear for his right of passage to become a warrior is now being supplanted by the “Maasai Olympics.”  With tourism becoming a major part of Kenya's economy, many young Maasai have turned to protecting lions, elephants, rhinos, and other iconic African animals.  Javelin throwing contests provide the young men a chance to earn prize money as well as show off his prowess.

 

Rungu

So, we are participating in a much smaller version of the Maasai Olympics.

 

 

First up is rungu throwing.   A target is set up with a basket attached behind it to receive the rungu, which is a hand-carved long stick with a hard knob on its end.  

 

I did okay once I threw a couple and got the feel of the rungu’s weight and balance.    Not great, but I did make a basket or two.   Randy did very well.  

 

The archery target is at the left.   We stood ridiculously close to all the targets.

Up next was archery.  I practiced western-style archery when I was younger but this archery was different in a couple aspects:  the bow is not held vertical but at a 45 degree angle tilted  to the right and the arrow is placed on the left side of the bow string.

I did well.   I would have had three bulls eyes had one arrow not hit an arrow already in the target.   I think it was Sylvia who did exceptionally well.

It was too dark for throwing the spear by the time that came around.

 

This was a hoot!   Everyone who wanted to participate did.   The sun set while we were pretending to be warriors and many of my photos with my cell phone did not turn out.

 

Nonetheless, Marg captured these videos:

 

 

Pointing to my two bullseyes.   What would have been a third is lying on the ground after hitting another arrow.

And with that, Randy and his Six Wives returned to Finch Hatton luxury resort where we dined a fresco under a full moon, entertained by a bushbaby dashing about the roof tops and serenaded by the sweet song of a tiny nightjar.

***

Red-headed agama

We got a peek at two elephants here.   This one.....

...and her calf.

Gray-headed kingfisher.

A couple zebra.

Maybe a pet hyrax isn't such a good idea.   Look at those teeth.