A quick note from the Masai Mara

Been without connectivity for about 5 days here in the Masai Mara, and just have a short window to write.  The truth, too, is that we've been busy from the moment we arrived here.

Short version (and I'll try and post more later) is that this has been an amazing experience.  We're staying in an isolated tent camp along the banks of the Mara River.  It's small, and private, and we're the last group of guests for the season.  They then completely dismantle and store the camp until next June.  Every night we hear amazing animal sounds and we routinely have hippo eating in the camp after dark.  Last night we heard hippo (hippo are right down in the river below the bluff on which the camp sits), baboon, hyena, lion and leopard.

Sightings have been excellent. Amazing really.  The landscape is hard to describe.  There's nothing to block the skies so big views in every direction and it's softly beautiful everywhere you look.  The density of animal life is astounding.  Almost overwhelming.  The migration is over, but the rains have been weird so there are many more wildebeest than we would usually have this time of year.

A couple of days ago we took a hot air balloon ride over the Mara.  Amazing, except for the loud, loud tourists we shared a basket with.  More to come on that.

And now lunch is served so I have to run!

Nairobi!!

Yay!!!

Fly to Mara tomorrow.

Travel and travails

November 18, 2018

City Lodge

Johannesburg              

My friend Phil Abbott used to tell us that the word ‘travel’ is derived from the word ‘travails’.  I looked it up just now and Phil is right – according to the Oxford English Dictionary.  It makes sense to me. There’s so much in common.

Yesterday was mostly uneventful.  Very hot in the Park, lots of wasted time driving around looking for living creatures. What actually happens when it gets hot – like approaching 100F – is that the animals largely declare a truce.  It’s too hot to chase anything, and it’s too hot to run so they just scatter under some sad little tree or bush somewhere and wait for night so that life can return to normal.  We did see a cheetah yesterday, sitting under a sad little tree off in the distance – that characteristic stance and profile against the shimmering heat. But too far and too much heat haze to bother shooting.  

We checked into Orpen Camp again for our last night in the park, hot and, speaking for myself, feeling pretty defeated photographically.  Then the thing that is Kruger happened.  Orpen is a small camp, with a pumped waterhole just outside the fence, lit by a single light.  Animals come there are throughout the night and it’s possible to sit on some benches along the fence and just watch.  Our first night in Orpen, three rhino came down to drink and last night our neighbors alerted  us that there were lions and rhino at the water hole.  So, we quit packing and walked to the fence to find the waterhole full of elephants, who’d evidently pushed everyone else away.  This was a fairly large breeding herd of a dozen or 15 elephants and they stayed to drink and then the matriarch gave the elephant low rumble “let’s move” sound and they all trailed off.  A few minutes later, the three rhino moved from out of the shadows to the water hole, and then there was a single form and then another and then a stream of lions coming in to drink. They clustered on one end of the pool, while the rhino stood at the other end.  And while the lions were drinking, a hyena passed by, keeping a respectful distance from the lions.  So, in 20 minutes, we saw elephant, rhino, lion and hyena, sitting on a park bench a few steps from our beds. By the way, I think there is a webcam from this waterhole on the SANParks website, if you're curious.

Hail Mary shot of lions drinking in the dark 

We got up early this morning and were first out the gate at 0430.  The ranger who opened the gate told us that lions had killed a buffalo outside the other gate (there’s a second gate leaving the camp toward the Park exit), but we went ahead and drove into the Park.  After about a half hour of nothing, Gina and I decided to backtrack and check it out.  We talked to the ranger again, who was unsure exactly where the kill was.  We did eventually find a spot where the kill took place – there were many vultures and we counted 10 hyena around, but no visible kill and no lions present.  We just continued up the road.  This is a paved road and it goes from the Orpen Camp to the actual exit of the Park for probably 10 km or so.  The gate into the Park was not yet open so we had the road to ourselves and it wasn’t actually even clear to us if we were supposed to be there, but we continued and coming over a rise we saw a figure in the middle of the road.  As we got closer we could see that it was a male lion walking away from us in the middle of the road.  We approached and followed at a respectful distance, not wanting to pressure him too much.  He was thin and clearly had had some sort of hip injury and was limping slightly. Eventually he stepped off the road and walked through the grass, beautifully backlit for a short distance before angling off into the thick bush.

Lion

And that was pretty much the end of our time at Kruger.  We packed up and drove to Eastgate Airport in Hoedspruit to catch the shuttle bus back to Jo’burg.  After a hair-raising 6 hour drive, we checked into the City Lodge to get a meal and a few hours of sleep before walking to the airport to catch the 0200 overnight flight to Nairobi.  When we arrived at the airport, we noticed first that the flight had been delayed and when we tried to check in we were told that the plane had been downgraded and there weren’t enough seats for all of the passengers and they could book us on tomorrow’s flight and they were sorry for the inconvenience.  We pleaded and leaned on them, but at the end of the day didn’t heap abuse on them.  It’s kind of heartbreaking though. We planned this for almost a year and now we have to re-work it and we lose a night in the Mara and at least one drive.  We now are scheduled to fly out tomorrow (today now…) at noon but arrive too late to get to the Mara so will spend a night in a hotel in Nairobi and fly to the Mara the next day.  I woke up Tanya from Wild Eye with the situation and she immediately began re-working and we’ll firm it up tomorrow.

Thus, the travails.  We walked back to City Lodge, went back to our old room and now it’s 0130 and Gina’s asleep.  We’ll have time to get some sleep, have a leisurely breakfast here and hopefully not get bumped again.  This kind of stuff happens in travel, but somehow it’s easier to swallow if it’s weather, or a mechanical issue – something that’s about our safety as passengers. I assume that this was an economic decision on the part of Kenya Airways. Which sucks, but one thing about travel is that it will teach you something about letting go, whether you want to or not.  

The good news is that we’re well, my clothes still smell like braii fire from Kruger and the internet at the hotel actually works great.

A couple of images I've edited

Cape buffalo

Marabou stork in flight

Last night in Olifants

November 16, 0608

Olifants

Been an eventful night. 

Took a late afternoon drive yesterday without photographing much.  Best shot was a young, male hyena who walked parallel to the road, but it’s stressful you know trying to drive and pull cameras out and set up and keep track of the hyena and then deal with other vehicles who want to know why you’re slowing down…. Then the moment is lost, and you have nothing but the taste of defeat and a mouthful of profanities for tourists.

On the way back, we went up to the overlook across from the turnoff to go to Olifants.  You climb, maybe a half mile, up this winding road to an overlook, which is one of the places in the Park where you can legally ‘alight’ from your vehicle – at your own risk of course.  Gina and I were up there with another vehicle with a middle-aged South African couple, watching the sunset. This location was where I had my first interaction with vervets. On my very first day in the Park in 2009, I stopped here and got out of my car to take in the view.  I heard someone shout, “They’re in your car!” and turned around to see a couple of vervets rummaging around in my car, because I’d left the window down. I ran to the car and the vervet effortlessly exited on the opposite side with the bag of almonds that I had just bought.  He ran up into a small tree, not 10 feet away, and opened the package and began eating almonds right in front of me.  That was my lesson, and my opportunity to learn that if you lock your shit up, there will be no problem with vervets.  

So, this South African couple were out, looking at the sunset and taking photos when a mother vervet, baby on her chest, appeared out of nowhere and made a run for the door. The man yelled and was quick enough to beat the mother to the door, while kicking gravel at her.  She behaved pretty aggressively and kind of challenged the guy.  Now keep in mind that vervets weigh about as much as a large house cat, but they can be kind of fierce.  I don’t know how often anyone actually gets bitten by vervets (my guess is that it’s very rare) but I’m pretty sure it would ruin your day and send you to a clinic outside of the Park.  The wife was busy cooing at the mother and taking video while the man stomped around, looking mad.  I didn’t actually see her feed the vervets (others had arrived – turns out they were lounging quietly just a few feet away) but I saw the vervets scrambling, picking up something on the ground, while wife video’d away.  Gina and I were getting into the car to leave when I saw angry man walk over to the driver’s side door and pull out a slingshot. Seriously, another damned slingshot. What is it with grown men and slingshots?  Park won’t let them have firearms, so they want the biggest weapon they can get their hands on to deal with these little vervets?  What a dick, and what mixed messages for the vervets – wifey feeding, cooing and videotaping while Jungle Jim is ready to lay the beasts down….  I’d had enough and so drove off, roiling in self-righteousness and expressing myself loudly to Gina, who was after all stuck in the car with me.  We went rolling downhill, not speeding, but not paying a lot of attention to anything except diagnosing all that’s wrong with the human condition.  Then we bumped right into a HUGE elephant bull, minding his own business.  I was surprised, and used very short, one syllable words.  He was surprised too.  By the time I’d collected my wits and could really appreciate him, I could see that he was also collecting his wits and wondering why he should put up with this crap. I could actually see him thinking that, so we scooted.  It was a reminder to not get so distracted in judging others that we miss opportunities (and threats) right in front of us.  As we drove, Gina was saying, “Stop, take a picture” (No) and I could see this massive old man stride across the road.  And the little devil side of my brain created a fantasy where angry slingshot man bumps into the same elephant, who’s significantly more irritated now, and ends up upside down on the hillside somewhere.  In spite of what Gina says, I will never be a saint.

Had a nice dinner on the deck of the restaurant overlooking the Olifants River, then bed early with the plan to get up at 0330, take an early morning drive and then back here to pack up and move on to Orpen for our last night in the Park. Heard lions way off in the distance.

But… at 0145 this morning the car alarm went off.  Man, nothing makes your adrenalin peak like a freaking car alarm parked right outside of your bungalow on a dead quiet, dead dark night.  Especially when you’re deep, deep in sleep. I was dreaming about something, but of course immediately had the dream pushed out by the sound of the alarm and then need to attend to that. I was probably dreaming that I was a genius trying to solve the problem of global warming, but we’ll never know now. Anyway, by the time I had lights on and was trying to find shorts, the alarm stopped and reset.  Crap.  So, grabbed head light and climbed the stairs and walked around to see nothing, glad that I didn’t have me for a neighbor.  I don’t know what was up – it was breezy but not like a windstorm and there was nothing stirring at all. Turns out that a car alarm went off in some camp we were in last but quickly turned off and we assumed, with great self-righteous judgement, that one of our neighbors messed up.  Now, I think a different story emerges….

With that drama, it was really hard to go back to sleep and I think I’d just started to drift off when the alarm went off at 0330. I made an executive decision to shut off the alarm and go back to sleep (trust me, Gina didn’t mind).  I decided that, rather than spend our last morning bouncing around rough, dusty roads, we’d take advantage of the beautiful view that we had to book a year in advance and just stay in and watch the morning unfold.  And dozed off, waking with some awareness that the sign was rising, and the francolin were calling at the beginning of the dawn chorus.  Then I heard something tug at the screen door.  So, our bungalow here is a circular concrete building, maybe 18 feet in diameter with small cut outs for a toilet/shower and for a sink. The front door opens onto a porch, overlooking the river, which has some built in cabinets, a sink and table and two chairs (where Gina and I are sitting now).  The front door has a screen door and a locking solid door, but because it’s so hot here, we just sleep with the screen door open. There’s a sliding lock on the door, but it doesn’t work. 

Every camp solves the monkey problem in a different way.  Vervets and baboons know how to open refrigerators, and they know what refrigerators are for (and we think we’re so damned great).  In many camps, refrigerators are outside, on the porch, but protected by a metal cage. In some cases (like Letaba), you actually have to position the refrigerator in way so that the door can’t be opened.  In other camps, like Orpen, they just move the refrigerator into the living area.

So, laying in bed, barely conscious of the first golden light and the calling of francolins, we hear a couple of tugs at the screen door.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the door open slightly and something that seemed like a large, black dog come inside (it’s funny how your brain processes), heading straight to the refrigerator.  Then I saw an arm reach up to open the door.  In that instant, both Gina and I shot upright and blurted out ferocious animal noises – like, “Get outa here!  Why I oughta…!  Let me at ‘em!” and it was gone. With a moment to process, we realized that it was a freaking baboon and that he was trying to stealthily get into the bank where we keep the food.  Now, vervets are fierce, but baboons are a whole different level.  We just sat there and laughed.  THAT was finally the alarm clock that got us moving. 

And now the sun is higher and it’s clear and hazy and you can just tell that it’s going to be a stinking hot day.  This is our last day in the Park.  We drive today to Orpen, spend the night, and then head to Eastgate Airport in Hoedspruit tomorrow morning to drop off the car, catch the shuttle back to Jo’burg, sleep for a few hours, and then catch a 0200 flight to Nairobi to begin the next chapter.  I’m hoping and expecting that the next chapter will be better photographically.  I’ve not really gotten anywhere so far.  But it beats working.

November 15

November 14, 2018

Olifants Rest Camp

Three in the afternoon and sitting on deck at river view bungalow at Olifants.  Olifants is situated on a high bluff overlooking the Olifants River.  The river consists of a very wide river valley and this time of year the river is made up of many small channels cutting through the rocky, sandy river bed. Some of the channels appear to be barely moving but others move enough water to create small series of rapids and generating a sound of flowing water that we hear even up here at the top of the bluff.  The river flows due west and directly under our bungalow takes a 90 degree left hand turn, heading south.

As I started to write, a large family group of elephants crossed the river right to left. The matriarch seemed to be in a hurry and wouldn’t let them spend time in the river, rushing them through the bush on the other side.  I noticed a large bull trailing along behind and thought that maybe that was the reason – bulls can be troublesome as they trail a family group trying to determine if there are mating opportunities.  And now, I see, way on the other side across the bend, a very large herd of elephants literally running across the sandy river bed into the bush.  Something is up – something very upsetting to them – but not something I can detect from here.  Maybe there are lions down in the river bed.  Lions aren’t generally a threat to elephants but if the family has many young, they won’t be at all comfortable remaining in the presence of lions.  They’re gone now, and in the middle distance I see a bull slowly walking through the channels of the river, unbothered by whatever drama the breeding herd was experiencing.  

There’s the usual bird drama down in the river – I can hear Egyptian geese squawking about something and way down at the bottom I see a fish eagle standing in the water, that unmistakable speck of bright white in the river.

It’s warm to hot, but not unbearably hot, and there’s a gentle breeze blowing.  Barely the whisper of a cloud in the sky.  No hint there of the rain that’s badly needed here. Just below me, on our side of the fence, there are a couple of female bushbuck, eating grass in the shade. Maybe 10 meters away.  Bushbuck are commonly found in camps – they seem to adapt to being around people easily, and they figure that hanging with people improves their odds of surviving Mr. Leopard and living to an old age.  It is, however, a little acknowledged fact that Mr. Leopard does come into the camps to shop for a bushbuck from time to time. Still, their odds are better and it’s best not to tell tourists everything.

Last night we took a drive before gate closing and had a nice sighting of a herd of buffalo with extreme backlighting as the sun was dropping toward the horizon.  It was hard to work – the bush was thick with scrubby mopani and buffalo just keep moving, meaning that you have to work fast. But I’m hopeful that I got some useful shots.  Then we came back and had a huge, delicious and slow dinner at Letaba.  You just can’t be in a big damn hurry here, the way we all seem to be at home.  Or, you can I guess, but it will be a miserable experience and every day we see people who seem to be intent on having a miserable experience. For our part – screw that.  We’re in the coolest place on earth and the days are counting down and we’re not going to get upset over slow service for a great meal.  My strategy, actually, was to just make the gin and tonic a double….

We got up early this morning and actually got out the door at 0445, which isn’t exactly early, but it seems like it’s good for us.  We headed west on the paved road toward Phalabora, taking a couple of beautiful loops on unpaved roads, encountering a very relaxed elephant family group and eventually rejoined the main road.  Some distance down, there is a dam, with some water in it and a pullout (I forget the name of the dam, and the map is in the car and it’s SO many steps from here…). Folks often stop there to watch hippos or birdlife, but we noticed more cars than usual so we pulled in.  Looking down from the overlook, into the sandy bed of what is this pond when it’s full, there was a dead buffalo (one of the dagga boys, I’m afraid) with a large male lion feeding.  It was a very fresh kill. The carcass was barely disturbed and the lion’s face was covered in bright red arterial blood.  It was very far away, but with the 600 and the cool air (meaning minimal heat haze), I was able to get some shots (I think).  We stayed for a while and then this massive lion got up and walked off out of sight to the right, still a great distance away.  Some of the folks there then pointed out that there was a lion very close to the car park, out of sight from where we were parked so when traffic cleared out for a moment, I repositioned to find a sleeping young male lion – not the same lion who was at the kill – this one much younger. We waited for quite some time for him to get up, or at least lift his head.  Eventually he did, and I was able to get some tight portraits of this boy. I don’t think it’ll be great stuff – his face was in dappled light as the sun came through the bush – but it was something.  We were getting ready to go, when another young male showed up and sat down near him. Eventually a few vultures showed up (it’s also evidence that the kill was fresh, because it was right out in the open and for sure there will be a mob of vultures hanging around by now), and the prime male came back out in the open to feed more on the carcass and to also run off the vultures.  While he was feeding, a large herd of buffalo came down to drink.  It was interesting to watch from our high vantage point because they moved as a group in the direction of carcass and lion, but pulled up and stopped dead – I assume when they suddenly smelled lion. After assessing the situation for a while, they abruptly changed direction and exited stage right.

Eventually we decided we created enough images of a young male lion sitting in dappled light for the world to get by, plus we had to check out of Letaba, so we headed back, packed and hit the road to Olifants.  Breakfast on the deck overlooking the river, a short drive and another encounter with a very hot family group of elephants, and then check in at 1330.  And now here, with Gina napping, me tapping and hippos bellowing in the river below.

In a bit, we’ll load up and go for a short, end of day drive.  The time in the car is physically confining, and there’s certainly discomfort in that. But it’s nice to have the time to be apart from daily drama of real/home life/what I do for money, to think and appreciate being observant of the world.  I try to see and hear and smell and sense what’s happening around me and that focus on the present is for me very healthy.

I have many changes ahead of me.  I’m leaving an honorable, long time employer and I’m noticing pain in that for me. I’m going to a new job, with new challenges and strains and undoubtedly new dramas yet to come.  I don’t actually know how I’m going to pull off the next few weeks.  It sounds pretty awful if I think about it too much. I just know that I’ll get through it and that I’ll end up working with a new set of honorable people, doing work we all care about.  I’ll have a new opportunity to explore an outside world there.  I guess I have to think of the next few weeks the way I think about the flight over here, right?  It’s just going to be hard and uncomfortable and awful for a time, but then look where I am and what I see and hear and smell right now…. Like way, way off in the distance, way out there, I can see a family of warthogs working their way to the water.  Behind them, a group of bachelor elephant bulls. On the near bank a waterbuck. Black-capped bulbuls are flittering round my bungalow and somewhere out of sight, an Egyptian goose is making a fuss about something she doesn’t like.

I hear Gina stirring so time to get to it….

November 13

November 13, 2018

Letaba Rest Camp

On the porch, on  a hot clear afternoon, at Letaba.  Very bright, no clouds visible from where I sit. Very little stirring in the camp.  Gina taking a nap.

We left Biyamiti yesterday morning.  After the bush walk on Sunday, Simon, the camp ranger, invited us on the morning game drive out of Biyamiti.  He only had two guests booked and so extended that generosity, and we took him up on it. He told us that the evening before, he’d seen three male lions just the other side of the weir where I’d spent some time shooting.  That’s of course how it goes – if I had gone maybe a couple hundred more meters down the road, I’d have likely bumped into those boys….

The game drive was lovely, with a beautiful sunrise but, alas, no lions. It’s a pretty long drive from Biyamiti to Letaba, maybe six hours of steady driving, so we took a break at Lower Sabie for breakfast along the way and made it to Letaba at about 3:30. It was clear and hot and not much was stirring.  We did see one lioness along the road north of Satara, but she was a long way off and she just moved from one patch of shade to another through the heat haze.

Letaba is in the central section of the park, well north of Biyamiti and Lower Sabie, and it’s much drier here. They obviously didn’t get as much of last week’s rain and it’s barely greened up at all.  The mopani trees here are beginning to leaf but I think they leaf whether there’s been any rain or not – they’re on their own schedule.  Mopanis are beautiful and when leafing, the bush fills with their butterfly wing-shaped, sparkling yellow green leaves. I took a short drive after arrival yesterday, but didn’t see a lot.  This morning we suffered from good intentions unrealized, and we slept in. We prepared a quick breakfast of corn flakes and yogurt and watched the vervet show.  I speak badly of vervets sometimes, but I actually admire their intelligence and gumption.  Basically, they’ve figured out that they’re smarter than the average tourist and they’re right. They roam through the camp in gangs, looking for opportunities to take food and I’m sure that they are successful every single morning. I don’t want to seem to be smug about it – both Gina and I have been outwitted by vervets at some point.  Most tourists see them as nuisances but, again, I secretly admire the little bastards. This morning,  in our part of the camp some tourist in his plaid shorts, polo shirt and sandals with socks took it upon himself to proclaim vigilante law and began patrolling with a slingshot, flinging rocks around at the vervets.  These monkeys have seen it all before and this little self-righteous shit was not big concern to them – they just drifted on to another part of the camp.  What is it with people like that?  You just have to secure your food, and if other people get raided by vervets, they’ll learn their lesson and it won’t happen again. And if it happens twice, well, good for the vervets.  It’s not that hard.  But there’s some kind of authoritarianism latent in human nature, isn’t there. Some kind of stern father complex that wants these little creatures to obey our property rights like little children. I gave the guy the stink eye and shook my head, so I’m sure he felt properly and thoroughly chastised. Grrr.

And with sleeping in and exercising my own self-righteousness, we didn’t get out of the gate until 0545. It sounds early, but the sun is well on the way to being up, and the period of ideal light is approaching the end.  It was cool this morning, high 60s, and we began with a very clear sky.  Then there was just the whisper of a few very soft clouds. Then, there were hundreds of soft, pastel clouds in the sky, eventually merging into a rumply sort of overcast, then breaking up again into hundreds of soft clouds and then disappearing altogether.  It was actually quite a show which I only noticed because we drove around for hours without seeing much at all. Saw some cape buffalo – what are called in Afrikaans, “dagga boys”, dagga being a word that apparently means mud, or cement. These are older, male buffalo who reach a point where they either get pushed out of the herd by younger, more vigorous males, or they can no longer keep up with the constant movement of buffalo herds.  They tend to congregate in small groups for protection – maybe 2 to 5 – and they tend to stay near rivers and drainage systems, where there’s water (buffalo must drink every day) and availability of soft grass. The term dagga boys refers to these old bachelors, who will frequently wallow in mud to cool off and relieve themselves of parasites.  They’re actually very dangerous to encounter on foot.  Because they’re separated from the herd, they are more vulnerable to lions and so they become much more reactive.  They’re on a hair trigger you might say. The three I ran into just stopped and watched me from the bush.  I’ve been around buffalo a lot and have never felt much risk while in a vehicle, but I was careful to give these old men some room. They seemed edgy and they’re pretty unpredictable, to me at least.

So another long, uneventful drive.  We’ll go out again for a couple of hours late this afternoon.  Time is running out for us here in South Africa – we’re here tonight, two nights in Olifants and then the last night in Orpen, before heading back to Jo’burg to fly overnight to Kenya. I’m hoping for better shooting in Kenya because so far, it’s been very unproductive for me.  I don’t know how much is me and being out of practice and also unwilling to fight a crowd for a shot of a sleeping lion, but so far, I’ve got almost nothing to show photographically.

But I do get to drive around gavel roads in the middle of nowhere with the possiblity of coming around a corner to find a leopard or a lion or an elephant standing the road. Hard to beat that.

Trying to post a few images....

I'll try and post a few images -

Here's our sunrise lion from two days ago....

A crocodile ripping apart a catfish at Sunset Dam

A saddle billed stork

Zebra

A yellow billed stork with a fish

November 11

November 11, 2018

Biyamiti Bushcamp

It’s 1:45 in the afternoon. I’m groggy after just awakening from a long nap. Gina’s still sleeping. It’s a very warm, clear day, but with a nice breeze. The house that we have at Biyamiti is a large bungalow, which has two bedrooms, two baths and sleeps five. Seems wasteful I know, but it was all that was available when we booked accommodations (back in January!) and we really wanted to be able to spend time in this camp.  It’s small (I think there are 15 units) and very isolated and private. It’s set along the dry river bed of the Biyamiti River, though our unit (#12) is set off the river and looks like it was just dropped into scrubby, thick bush.  Birdlife here is fantastic, though it’s settled down now as the birds are mostly hunkered down in the heat. Throughout the park, most of the bungalows have verandas or porches where you can sit outside in the shad and enjoy the bush. This unit and the one next door for some reason have enclosed rooms.  They’ve added aluminum framing and glass with two large sliding glass doors. I’m not sure why, but it really doesn’t fit these old, concrete bungalows with thatched roofs.

We haven’t seen vervets here, though we know they’re around and I’m certain create problems whenever possible.  What we have seen are very tame camp birds who’ve obviously been fed and pampered by previous guests.  When we first opened the sliding glass doors, a group of natal francolins just walked in like they live here, and just now, when I sat down to write, a redbilled hornbill just came and knocked on the door with his beak to let him in.

This has become my favorite camp here.  It’s just so peaceful.  No shop, no restaurant, no gas station, just a few bungalows spread out in the bush and a small staff working to keep the place going. And a cape glossy starling just walked to the open sliding door, looked in, awaiting an invitation and then walked off in disappointment.

Two days ago, on our last morning at Lower Sabie, we got up early and went for a drive north of the camp, taking a long unpaved road.  Just as the sun was rising, we saw a male lion crossing the road in front of us, moving left to right.  He was clearly on a mission.  Not in a hurry, but walking a deliberate pace and in a straight line, not looking at us. Not much to photograph – still pretty dark and he didn’t interact or look at us at all.  But being able to spend time in his world without being in a scrum of tourists parked on the side of the road is the best part of being here.  It’s a reminder of how fortunate Gina and I are.

Later that drive, Gina and I got to spend time sitting next to a white rhino bull, who was eating the grass on the roadway verge.  We probably spent 20 minutes with him, alone. You realize how vulnerable white rhino are to poachers.  Their disposition is generally very placid and it’s not hard to get right up to them. It’s like driving up to a cow. You can see how people with bad intent would find this such a tempting way to make some quick money.

Starling now back, standing on threshold of the door, waiting for an invitation that won’t be forthcoming.  Sorry.

We went back to camp, packed up to move and spent a nice leisurely drive headed to Biyamiti.  Along the road, we bumped into a black rhino.  Quite a different animal than the white rhino.  He took one look at us, and fled the road, but went into the bush, turned around and watched us secretly for a while before eventually moving off.  Black rhino are smaller, are browsers rather than grazers, more secretive and are generally more high strung and defensive (as you’d have to be when you tend to live in deep bush with limited visibility and room to move). It was a special sighting – we’ve only seen black rhino once before in the Park and both sightings were fleeting.

Yesterday was another beautiful, clear and not too hot day and we spent the day driving without a lot of photographic productivity.

Today, we got up early and went for a bush walk.  These are organized walks through, led by armed rangers.  The idea is to get out of your car and get you closer to the many things you can’t see from a vehicle rolling down the road.  Because Biyamiti is a small camp, there’s only one permanent ranger here so arrangements were made to meet other rangers from a larger camp so at the end there were 8 guests and 3 rangers for this walk at sunrise. It was a beautiful morning, transitioning from cool to warm. The walk was fairly arduous (for me, at least) but provided some elevation for beautiful morning views.  On the way back, we approached within about 50 yards of a big bull elephant in thick bush but then his trunk came up as he began to detect our presence and the group quickly moved off in the opposite direction back toward the vehicles.  And then home, wash some clothes, PBJ for lunch, nap and here we are.

Photographically, this trip hasn't been that productive yet.  You never know what's next of course.  I've edited only a small number of images, and haven't tried posting any yet due to very limited internet access (I'm connected by using a personal hotspot on limited cellphone coverage - sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't). I don't know when I'll have better access (probably when we get back to Jo'burg) and so don't know when I'll be able to post any images.  But I'll try....

We’ll take a drive this afternoon and braii a steak and veggies this evening.  Tomorrow, we pack up and leave Biyamiti and take the long drive north to Letaba Rest Camp.  Over many years, Letaba has been a favorite but it’s sad to leave this beautiful little jewel in the bush.

November 8

November 8, 2018

Lower Sabie Rest Camp

It’s been an eventful couple of days.  Tuesday night it rained all night long – a cool, steady rain with periods of high wind.  Our alarm went off at 0330  yesterday and we got up, ate a quick breakfast and loaded the car for a drive. The plan was to do a 5 hour drive or so, come back in time to load up everything to move to the next camp by check out time (1000).  It was cool (low 60sF)  and overcast, very blustery and damp, but not raining.  Cool enough though that we were bundled  as we drove with windows open.  Animals were clearly hunkered down, out of the wind and the damp, because we drove for several hours and saw almost nothing – one small family of elephants and a few birds.  That was about it.  

We started to make our way back to Orpen, driving on these empty, narrow gravel roads in the middle of the bush. We didn’t see many other vehicles, I assume due both to the weather and to the fact that it was Wednesday and the Park is noticeably less crowded on weekdays. One of the things that happens here is that the bush kind of encroaches the sides of the roads and the word ‘bush’ should not denote some cute soft, fluffy, soft bush, but a scraggly, hard bush full of sharp thorns. Drivers tend to bias away from the sides of the road because a moment of inattention can leave your car with very noticeable bush scratches if you graze one of those bushes.  On the way back on this gray, cold, damp morning a car approached me, leaning away from his side of the road.  And then he flashed his lights at me, I assume because he felt like I was encroaching on his lane. Keep in mind that we’re in the middle of nowhere, approaching each other at the breathtaking speed of 30 mph…. And I just leaned away from him a bit, saw, out of the corner of my eye a softball-sized rock and BLAM. The tire instantly deflated and I rolled to a stop knowing that I’d somehow managed to blow out the sidewall of the tire. Damn.  The other vehicle of course was long gone.  I limped a short distance to the intersection of the paved road, and got out and started trying to figure out how to change a tire on a Volkswagen Tiguan (it’s weird – it uses bolts instead of studs on the wheel assembly, and then it was these weird plastic bolt covers).  Had damaged wheel/tire off, and was mounting spare when a stranger jumped out and helped to get it buttoned up quickly.  He was awesome, and a reminder that there are people who will do good things for no other reason than because they know they can help.

Then it was pack up, get on the phone with Avis to request a replacement vehicle, and then check out of Orpen to head south.  A relative uneventful, and careful drive. Went to the airport at Skukuza first, because they told me a replacement car was there, but it wasn’t. They told me they’d call the next morning and deliver the car. Ran into an asshole bull elephant on the busy road from Skukuza to Lower Sabie, causing an entire flotilla of tourists to back up for several kilometers, while another flotilla of tourists followed along behind him happy that at least he was going their direction. 

The day remained cold and blustery, never getting out of the sixties.  Went through check-in process at Lower Sabie only to find that they’d issued keys to our bungalow to another party, back to the Reception to sort that out, dinner on the deck over the Sabie River and then in bed by about 7pm. Never shot a frame.

This morning dawned very cool (lower 50s) but clear and breezy. Gina and I left early for an easy drive, sticking mostly to paved road given the fact that we no longer had a spare. Didn’t see a lot, but the morning was glorious.  Did see a mother hyena with two teenaged cubs, but not photographable.  Did photograph some birds.  But not a very productive morning in terms of shooting.

Leftovers for lunch at about 1000.  Replacement car was supposed to be here by 1030, but they called to tell me that elephants were blocking the driver’s path and that he’d be delayed.  He just arrived, delivering a new RAV4 and taking the Tiguan away, no problem.  Africa is such a weird place.  In some instances, the notion of ‘service’ is just bizarre, but I don’t believe that I would have received this level of service from a rental car agency in the US. Avis South Africa was just fantastic.

And now it’s 1145 and just perfect in the camp.  Not hot, a nice breeze blowing. The camp is mostly empty now.  Departing guests are gone, arriving guests are not here yet. Guests who are staying over are mostly out driving about, being chased by elephants. It’s very quiet. Gina is taking a nap. A woman is slowly sweeping the porch of the bungalow opposite ours. Hippos are vocalizing in the river, which is maybe a hundred meters to my left. Birds all seem very happy that it’s such a beautiful morning after cold, rainy and blustery days.  There’s a large gang of baboons roaming around the camp, looking for trouble, but they won’t mess with me because, somehow, in baboon eyes, I’m kind of intimidating.

I’m aware that the clock is ticking. We have less time in the Park this trip because we’re stopping in Kenya on the way home.  I’m trying not to count the days but admit that, every now and again, those numbers start to crowd my consciousness. It hasn’t been very productive photographically, but Gina reminds me that we’ll get a lot of shooting in the Mara and not to worry about it.  And she’s right and wise.

I try to use these trips away to reflect on where I have opportunities to be a better person. It’s hard sometimes when you’re in the rat race, right? It’s hard to have the time, the energy and the awareness in those moments.  But here, with hours to drive about… you use your eyes to scan constantly but there’s a part of your brain available for processing and introspection.  I’ve thought a lot about the question of why or how I’m so judgmental about people.  It flares up constantly on the road, of course, watching other people drive, dismissing them as tourists (in spite of the obvious problem with that judgment), criticizing their lack of self-awareness and ignoring my own.  Often those judgements are associated with visible characteristics of those people. For me, for some reason, it’s Europeans. I don’t know why exactly. But they’re here in hordes, and they’re very visible. Yesterday, as we were walking into reception, I noticed that birds in a large bush near the entrance were just FREAKING out.  Then realized that some woman was trying to push her head into the bush to somehow take a photo with her iPad.  I assume that there was a nest in there or something.  I immediately told myself some story about what a bunch of assholes these people are (and I have no idea where this lady was from – for illustration, let’s just say it was Belgium), and fantasized intervening and asking if what the hell was wrong with her…. I didn’t because, apparently, I’m one polite SOB. And also her husband was younger and bigger than me…. But seriously, I went deep down this hole of judgement.  And, yes, she was behaving in a way that was unaware and stupid, but probably stupid in an ignorant way rather than in the sense of, “I’m here and don’t care what happens to a bunch of little birds” because, after all, I’m assuming she went through quite a bit of trouble and expense to get here to seethem.

And people who drive slower than me – what the hell is wrong with them? And people who drive faster than me, what the hell is wrong with them? And people who stop in the middle of the road to baby talk to a vervet who would just as soon shiv them and steal their food as look at them, what the hell is wrong with them?

Maybe I should save up all of my judgement for just one thing…. Maybe for all of us because of our lack of awareness as we sever all connection to the natural world and isolate ourselves into one little bubble, insuring that we lose whatever soul we have. Insuring that we cannot survive or thrive into the future.  That gives me something to think about.

Meanwhile, I hear fish eagles and brown-hooded kingfishers and swallows, and the women cleaning bungalows across the way are taking a break to talk and laugh and, while I can’t understand their language, I’m pretty sure to complain about management.

Maybe I’ll take a break and edit a few images.

November 6

Tuesday, Election Day,

First full day in Kruger National Park  

Travel was arduous but uneventful. We arrived in the Park yesterday afternoon, too tired to do much besides unpack, eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. We did not try to go out at all.  But sitting on the back deck, I noticed some dwarf mongoose in a patch of bush about thirty yards from the bungalow.  Beyond that is the fence to the camp and just beyond that is a small, pumped water hole.  I saw a tail swishing at the water hole so Gina and I walked over to see a large bull giraffe spreading his legs to drink.  Which is an amazing thing to see. And as we watched the giraffe, a trio of rhino emerged from the bush to come drink.  We didn’t have to go out, the animals came to us.

Our intention was to prep last night and take off early this morning, getting up at 0345 so that we can be ready when the gates open at 0430.  We set the alarm and went to bed at about 1930, woke up to elephants squabbling at the waterhole, back to sleep to  wake up with a shaft of beautiful golden sunlight coming into the room at 0515.  Damn, somehow the alarm didn’t set. 

But being the new, extra resilient me, it was not a problem…. We got up, ate granola and yogurt, made some instant coffee and headed out the gate.  We drove most of the day, stopping mid-morning at Satara for a hot breakfast. The morning started out beautifully sunny but a thin layer of clouds moved in and most of the day was overcast, and we did get a nice, light rain this afternoon.  Kruger is coming out of the very dry winter and heading into the wetter summer months, so it’s not unusual to have some transition of light rain in November.  Rain in the bush is a beautiful thing.

Not a very strong day photographically but, again, the new super resilient me isn’t letting that bother me…. We had a reasonable day in terms of sightings, mostly the usual suspects – several very relaxed elephant family groups, the usual antelope species (impala, kudu, steenbok, nyala), zebra, wildebeest, cape buffalo, scrub hares, leopard tortoise, baboons, martial eagle, some small owl (pearl spotted owlet?), magpie shrikes, red and yellow hornbills, lilac-breasted rollers, hamerkop, grey heron, nile crocodile, dwarf mongoose, white back vulture, giant kingfisher, tawny eagle and many others I can’t remember.  Not much photographically, best was probably an extended sighting with a male saddle-billed stork. Just beautiful.

After such a smooth travel experience, we hit a couple of difficulties today. After years of car rentals – dozens and dozens and dozens, especially when I was shooting racing – without ever damaging a vehicle, today I backed into a branch I didn’t see and broke rear taillight on the VW Tiguan.  Damn, damn.  I have full coverage but, still, damn.

And, just now I fired up the macbook pro and for the first three times, it would not load up Mac OS.  Now, THAT tested new resilient Dan to the max.  I was looking for an apple support phone number on my phone (try finding that number in a hurry…) when it started up on the 4^th try.  I’m still not confident and am thinking through back up plans (mainly to just store the cards until I can get home, which will change how I shoot).

I’m not going to try and edit any images tonight.  We’re tired and we need to get dinner going.  Tomorrow – up early (and this time we mean it), take a morning drive, back here by 0945 to load up and check out by 1000, and then drive south to Lower Sabie.

But now, it’s raining softly, light is dimming, Gina’s prepped the food and I’m about to light a fire to braii (cook over an open fire).  I’m drinking a glass of South African cab, and just got a glimpse of a hyena at the water hole.  So, it’s going to be ok for now.  

Dan Streck

Dan Streck Photography

danstreckphotography@gmail.com

210-838-4645

On the bus....

November 5, 2018

A little experiment here. Trying to blog by phone in bus, transiting from Jo’burg to Hoedspruit.

Arrived in Johannesburg late last night after about 36 hours of uneventful uprightness, mostly sitting on my butt.  This morning up at 0500, check out, wolf down complimentary (and excellent) breakfast, meet Trevor from WildEye in lobby to pick up 600mm lens, walk to station for shuttle and transit buses and board bus that will take us to Eastgate Airport in Hoedspruit, where we rent a car, drive to the Pack and Save for groceries, then drive to the Orpen gate to Kruger National Park. We’ll enter the Park there and spend I think 2 nights at Orpen Camp, which is a decent launching point for the Park.

Am very rummy from lack of sleep. The ‘bus’ is actually a 14 passenger mini van and is much tighter than the planes we spent last day and a half on. My butt really hurts....

Not much good to say much here except that we’re well, all going smoothly and we’ll be in the bush in 6 hours or so. We’ll sleep well tonight.

Final Preparations....

November 2, 2018

Tomorrow we board the plane in Redmond, to begin about 32 hours of travel to Johannesburg.  We fly first to Seattle, have a decent layover, fly to Amsterdam, with a tighter layover and then to Jo’burg. For the most part, it’s a miserable experience, but we just put our heads down and somehow get through it.  It’ll actually be good to have a short layover in Amsterdam so we can actually do a bit of walking, though it does increase the total travel time.  If everything goes to plan, we land in a hotel at about midnight, after about 36 hours of being upright.  Try to sleep for 5 hours or so, and then catch a bus to Hoedspruit (picking up a lens at the hotel), on the western edge of Kruger National Park.  Then pick up a rental car, probably stop for groceries and then drive into the park, arriving late afternoon on Monday.

And then the fun actually begins.

Over the past few days, we have nailed down a location to land in Sierra Vista for the next six months. We’ve packed about 70% of what we’ll pack. We’re going to stop now and Gina and movers will pack the rest when we get back. All of this is of course very upsetting for Tunzi the cat, who’s moved from a vague awareness that something was looming in her life, to full on confusion and unsettlement…. Cats don’t like change, and she’s probably less resilient than the average cat.  It’s going to be a tough few weeks for the smallest member of our family.

Gina and I slept in, went to Jacksons Corner for a last breakfast here and took a short walk downtown, taking in the beauty of this little corner of the world.  There are certainly things about living in Bend that are frustrating and goofy, but it’s still a beautiful place, especially in the fall, and Gina and I are feeling some melancholy about leaving.  You know, that thing where you hold two seemingly contradictory feelings at the same time? Excitement and readiness for a new challenge, with new sights and sounds, along with a sort of early nostalgia for what we’re leaving behind.  No regrets about leaving, and we certainly have no regrets that we’ve spent so much of our lives in this beautiful community.

Here's a little glimpse of downtown Bend in fall from our walk this morning –

And now on to Africa, and the ever-present possibilities of adventure in the bush.  It’s the best thing ever.  So to lions and leopards and elephants and vultures and eagles and the first woodlands kingfisher of the season.