The 2021 Africa Journals, Ch. 10: In Which We Breakfast with Lions

 

Chapter Ten

In Which We Breakfast with Lions

"A lion chased me up a tree and I greatly enjoyed the view from the top."

--Confucius

    

     I once again tried to get my camera lens to retract.   It would not;  it was stuck fast.  I checked the little thermometer on my camera field bag.   It registered 100 degrees Fahrenheit.

I could still use it, but at 440 mm only.   I  had another Nikon camera with an 18 to 400mm zoom lens.   Both the camera and the lens were inferior to the other camera and lens, however, I was thankful I was still in the photo game and my trip wouldn't be ruined.   I simply wouldn't be able to get the best quality photos.

For now, I would use the second camera except when I was far enough away to use the first camera and its longer lens.  

As things turned out, it was the shorter lens that came in handy right away because we were so close to several lions that the long lens was too much.   This coalition of lions numbered six or seven but one was away with his new girlfriend.

These lions had full bellies, indicating that they had made a kill and dined well during the night.   All they wanted to do was sleep.

     When we first saw them they were lying in deep shade.   Some moved into the sun while we were there.

    We call these "flat cats."   See the trees on the far left of this photo?   That's where we drove for lunch.   Not too near, but not too far.   Lions will attack humans on foot but we were far enough away that we would have plenty of time to throw our coffee and muffins in the air and race to the safari truck.

Our picnic spot.

Breakfast with lions.

Eggs, granola, yoghurt, bread, butter, cookies, individual jars of fresh fruit, tea and coffee.

Baked egg, muffin, bread and butter, .  

    Back at the lions, one  had waded into the water for a drink.   We caught him splashing back to dry land.

    We left the sleeping lions and turned back towards camp.   However, no matter where you're going, elephants always have the right of way.   Always.

The photo above and the photo below illustrates what a loss I had when my 200-500mm lens locked up at 440mm.   Both of these photos were taken with my Tamron 18-400mm lens seven seconds apart with several intervening frames.  The top photo was at 80mm and the bottom photo at 116mm.   The ability to zoom in and out is so critical.

    Once the elephants passed, we stopped in a large area that was free of trees and waited for this helicopter.

        And this medical tech.

    Ah, dear.   Time for our Covid-19 PCR tests that would enable us to fly back to Kasane and then on to Johannesburg in South Africa. She took both mouth and nasal samples.  This was now my third PCR test on this trip and I would have one more before heading home.

Marg

ACK!   Want to know what this test cost--a tech delivered by helicopter and results promised by the next day??    $400 USD!

    That done, we meandered back to camp.

    The lady riding with us had a sharp eye for woodpeckers and I was able to get these shots of a Burchell's woodpecker.

    Back in camp, it was sanitize your hands, download photos onto external hard drives, and relax before lunch.   Marg was doing my downloading with her computer so I had time to do a dress rehearsal of packing my camera bag to see  if my now-elongated lens would fit in the bag.   

    It did, but horizontally rather than upright.    That did not leave any room for my smaller lens.    I would have to carry it in my "purse" which was also a camera bag.   But I didn't have to pack my big lens in my checked bag!

Lunch.   Couscous, Bibb lettuce, beets, bean salad, and chicken.

Next:  The final game drives in Selinda and back to Johannesburg.

Living Alaskan

Years ago, a couple local fellows complained about me to my husband.    They had spotted some windfall trees after a winter storm and the next morning they geared up to go cut them for firewood.   By the time they got there, they said, I was loading the last of the rounds into my truck.  Every time, they complained.

What they didn't mention, and what my husband knew darned well, was that though the fellows started out in the morning, they stopped at one of the local bars to fortify themselves for the chore ahead.  By the time they were well-fortified, those windfall trees were on their way to my wood stove.

 But that was years ago.   Here's how it's done today.



Some things are better done in late fall or winter.   Some people don't know any better.

Count me among the latter.

That's why I spent the past couple days perspiring heavily, drinking gallons of water, and using a half roll of paper towels drying my face, all the while bucking up some spruce trees felled by my neighbor.   I was so anxious to get started with that, I forgot to take photos, even though I had a camera in the basket on my ATV.

So, here's an "after" picture:  After I cut the limbs off, after I cut the logs, after I loaded the pieces on a trailer, after I hauled them to a spot where they joined other wood I'd previously cut, after I unloaded them, and after I tarped the pile, but before the rain started. Such a nice feeling--getting the pile covered before the rain.    Just minutes before the rain started.

Yesterday I continued with this cold-weather project, fortified once again with water and paper towels.

You can tell the old, seasoned wood from the new, green wood just added to the pile.

The process of splitting the rounds into pieces that will fit in the woodstove.   This is the fun part.   Actually, it's all fun.   (Ed. Note:   Not all Alaskans think firewood gathering is a "fun" chore.   Some have been "affected" by living too long under the rays of the Midnight Sun .)

Seasoned wood split and loaded on the trailer, green wood split and on the ground.   I'll stack them in different places in the woodshed.   That's my project for today.

All the while I was doing this, I was entertained by a cute little yellow helicopter landing and taking off, apparently giving rides to guests at a wedding taking place at a  nearby inn.

Not all Alaskans engage in this firewood chore.   Some lead lives that appear normal to folks who don't live in Alaska.   They have homes and condos and apartments with no wood-burning apparatus (apparatuses?   apparati?) of any kind, hence they have no need for firewood, but they are the ones who scream the loudest when the electricity goes out in winter and their furnaces won't work.

Some of those folks might want firewood to take camping so they can have a campfire.   Assuming, of course, that they have secured said wood securely on whatever vehicle they transport it.

The unsecured wood?   I pick it up alongside the highway when I'm picking up litter.   Can't let a good piece of firewood go to waste.