Masai Mara with Ricki and Julie
Soon after flying over the peak of Mt. Kili, we made the first of four touch-downs in Masai Mara. It was my first time landing on a dirt runway. A giraffe about 10 yards from the edge of the runway watched us with a very wise expression as we taxied past him and then U-turned and bumped along at top speed to take off again. If he had been wearing a hat and holding red flags, we would have been in a Richard Scary book. As we climbed, to a lower traversing altitude, we could see thousands and thousands of wildebeest milling about on the savannah. We continued west and north for 10-15m and by the time we landed at our next stop, there was not a single wildebeest to be seen. In all the rest of our trip, we saw only a scattering of lone wildebeest who, for whatever reason, had stayed through the dry season and were not migrating with the herd. It would be a few more weeks until they reached the northwest plains en masse.
When we landed, we were relieved to be met by only a driver, a guide, and a very modest looking green landrover, instead of the maasai brandishing tinsel garlands, champagne, and droves of uniformed staff to take your luggage, wipe your brow and blow your nose (yes, we really saw this happen at an earlier stop). We stopped a few minutes from the airstrip for our first glimpse at the slow-moving, muddy Mara River. It was deep enough for the hippos to completely submerge themselves and surface sporadically with loud grunts, keeping a close watch on us. Occasionally one would get a little lift and make a tremendous belly flop as it surfaced reminding us of a hump-back whale minus all grace.
We were greeted at Bushbuck Adventures Camp by Alice and her team, all extremely warm and welcoming. The camp itself was a semi-circle of canvas tents with canvas bathrooms at the back. It was very peaceful, unpretentious and comfortable. In other words, perfect. After lunch and a short nap to make up for our early departure, we set off on our first game drive. We saw many mixed herds of Thompson’s gazelle, grants gazelle, impalas, zebras, a few wildebeest, and one antelope we hadn’t seen before- a topi. Topi are large antelope, nearly the size of a wildebeest. Their legs are yellow from the hoof right up to the knee and then they have a large blue patch on the flank and shoulders, like an upside-down exclamation point on all four corners.
Further into our drive, we spotted a herd of the common mini-bus. As we moved closer to observe their strange behavior in their natural habitat, we were distracted by the pride of 23 lions basking in the setting sun.
They remained calm and motionless as the paparazzi closed in. After a few minutes, we wandered off again and were rewarded with a spotting of a cheetah and her two cubs. Her athleticism and grace were breathtaking. She was on high alert, scanning the horizon in every direction (looking carefully between the 4x4s). Eventually she turned attention back to her cubs, 
flopped down on the ground and let them lick her face and bite her ears. After she had returned their kisses, she walked directly over to our car and leapt onto the 4 foot high hood. Everyone drew in their breath in unison and then held it, waiting to see if she would jump onto the top of the car, which was open to the air. She didn’t. She stayed on the hood for about 10 minutes, enjoying the view from the higher vantage point, occasionally peeking through the windshield at us. Her cubs walked back and forth under the car, tumbling over each other and wrestling, sizing up the hood to see if they could join mom. When she was ready, she gracefully poured herself off of the hood on the other side of the car in one fluid motion and sauntered into the bush with her two little ones running to keep up. We were bursting with awe for this spectacular creature and the close proximity she allowed us to share with her for a few unforgettable minutes. There were several times during the trip that I felt that we drove too close to the animals and disturbed them, because we wanted to be close to them. But I look back on that moment and know that she chose to be close to us.
Saturday
We woke up at 6am for our morning game drive. We gawked at dozens of antelope, a herd of buffalo being groomed by an entourage of red and yellow-billed oxpeckers, and a few baboons. We came upon a couple of ostriches and we thought the male was doing his courting dance, squatting on the ground and swaying back and forth with his great poofy wings spread wide and his naked neck bobbing and swaying in time. When we got closer, he stood up and suddenly - up popped Mrs. Ostrich… turns out it was his mating dance rather than his courting dance!
We drove to the edge of the ridge separating the conservancy from the reserve. James, our guide, told us this was where we were going to see rhinos. So we got out and followed Amos, a fellow with a big stick and a ranger uniform, up the hill to our left. Suddenly, we were in the presence of a two-ton white rhino. We were literally 15 feet from him. He ignored us as he gently swung his head back and forth across the grass cutting it back like a lawnmower. He was a white rhino, a grazer, named
Wazi-wazi which means ‘crazy’ in Kiswahili. We could see every fold of his armor, every twitch of his ear, even examine his toenails. He is one of three rhinos at that sanctuary who are guarded night and day, by guys with sticks I guess… Amos wanted us to see the other rhino so he walked a short ways into the brush and we heard him whacking his stick against the trees. Suddenly another gigantic rhino broke out of the brush and joined Wazi-wazi in the little clearing, followed by Amos driving her like a cow!We didn’t think anything could top that, but the excitement was far from over. We stopped at another spot on the Mara River to ogle some more hippos, who were even more suspicious of us than the last ones. As we watched, we noticed a very large croc slip from the bank into the river. We could barely follow the ripples he made in the muddy water as he swam along the bank and then stopped directly opposite the lodge on the riverbank. There were two guys doing repairs at the nearby lodge and they had a ladder propped up against a tree near their observation deck. One guy was standing about 15 feet from the water, holding the ladder steady at the bottom. There was no doubt that the croc was going to make a move for him. The croc slowly crept out of the water. James whistled, but the guy didn’t hear. Just as the croc started to sprint with his jaws gaping, I yelled at him again and he leapt out of the way, putting the ladder in between himself and the croc. Then he made a hasty retreat for the safety of the raised deck, his eyes bulging. The croc must have been a bit spent from his sprint so he rested at the bottom of the ladder for quite some time, while the poor guy probably went to change his underwear…
After a lazy afternoon back at camp, we piled into the Land Rover again for our evening drive and a short walk. We got out of the land rover and walked for a ways amongst the gazelles and zebra. An old wildebeest with a flowing mane and tail kept his sights on us as we examined skulls and tracks and flowers. A storm was gathering directly ahead of us, but to the left and right of the thunderhead we could see a rainbow on the horizon, created by the sun setting behind us. When it started to thunder, we loaded back into the vehicle. We stopped to watch a few lions who were themselves watching the clouds. When the first few giant raindrops started to fall, they reluctantly hauled themselves to their feet and padded into the cover of the brush. Just as we turned back towards camp, the skies parted and the downpour began. As we sped back to camp, we saw a very old male impala standing majestically in the rain. A few wildebeest passed us in a flat out sprint as if trying to stay dry by outrunning the rain.
Sunday
Friends of ours had visited the Mara the week before and reported seeing thousands of wildebeest gathering in the south east corner of the park. A week later, they must have still been milling around there because we saw very few where we were in the north west quadrant. We pushed Alice to try to find out if the wildebeests were moving and if there was somewhere we could see them amassing. She learned that there was an outside chance that we might see them gathering at the river crossing in the central part of the park. It had rained a lot and the roads were very muddy. Alice warned that the drive might be more than three hours and there was a chance we would get stuck, but we decided that we would regret it if we didn’t at least try. So we left early on Sunday morning with our driver, Paul, and our Masai guide, Steven, to cross the northern part of the Reserve and try to see the great wildebeest migration with our own eyes.
The ‘roads’ were slick. They were more like a choose your own adventure of deep, muddy ruts, which were dangerous to follow, but also risky not to. For the better part of an hour, we slid, fish tailed and often glided perpendicular to the tracks. When Paul gunned the motor, all 4 tires spun furiously and mud rained down on us through the open roof. Ricki wisely kept her eyes squeezed shut most of the ride, but especially during the sideways driving. Luckily Paul had mad skills – we didn’t get stuck once, but stopped to rescue several other stuck vehicles along the way.
The roads inside the National Reserve were much better maintained and Ricki finally opened her eyes. As we drove towards the river, we passed a small group of elephants with the smallest newborn baby I have ever seen. Steven estimated that she was probably less than a month old. There was a single topi perched on every termite mound or large clump of grass as far as the eye could see, making a very Dr Seuss-esque landscape.We finally arrived at the Mara River near one of the famous crossing sites, but there was not a single wildebeest in sight. As we ate our picnic lunch, I looked out at the vast savannah and I could imagine the millions of wildebeest pouring over the plains, churning up the wet soil with their hooves and mixing it with their poop. Like Nature’s roto-tiller, renewing the soil and making the perfect conditions for the next crop of grass that would sustain them on their way back to Tanzania. Absolutely brilliant!
While we were scanning the river for birds and hippos, we noticed some zebra crossing a bit further upstream. We drove to where they were crossing to watch them. They patiently queued on one side of the river single file and swam to the other side in an orderly fashion.
But they seemed to be going the wrong way. They were headed south to meet up with the wildebeests and then turn around and come north again with the migrating herds. This plan turned out to be slightly evolutionarily backwards. As we watched, a few gigantic crocs slipped into the water and waited. Within a span of 15 minutes, we watched the crocs pick off three baby zebras. They instantly spotted the ones who got just a little bit too far from their moms and they came out of nowhere to pull the
tiny thing under.
We were too far away to hear the cries of the baby, but none of the other zebra seemed to notice or be deterred in their dodged queuing and swimming. To be honest, it didn’t even seem that the mom noticed the baby’s absence. Although, to be even more frank, I have no real clue as to which stripey horse thing belonged to which other stripey horse thing. We teetered between not being able to tear our eyes away and not bearing to watch anymore. We finally left after Ricki sat down and closed her eyes.Monday
We left for another early morning game drive while some of the team stayed behind to make breakfast and break camp. We were rewarded with an up close look at a lion couple, the male with a huge bushy mane. Unfortunately, we got this glimpse by barging past several safari vehicles already too far off the trail, bouncing over rocks and scraping through trees to corral these majestic animals within an actual tourist trap. After we begged our driver to leave them alone, we continued our journey and came across 2 very full cheetahs crossing the road, their bellies swinging and nearly scraping the ground. They could barely reach the puddles to drink. Ricki wanted to know if they were pregnant, but Steven pointed out that they were male.
After breakfast, Patrick and I had to catch our flight back to Kilifi. On the way to the airstrip, we stopped to do a little shopping at one of the Maasai villages. We haggled hard for a blanket and a couple of salad spoons. Steven, who knew everyone in the village, laughed in complicity as we haggled. Afterwards, we talked about why Maasai don’t eat zebras and when he might use his spear to protect his cattle. He showed us how he threw his club and spear and explained which weapon could be used at close range and which at longer range. Patrick felt very honored that Steven allowed him to try out both his club and spear, launching the spear such that the practice end skewered the dirt and the blade remained sharp.
We said goodbye to Ricki and Julie, who had another two nights in the Mara before returning back to the US. When we got on the plane, the pilot informed us that we would be making a short additional stop to check on another plane that was having some mechanical problems.
We stopped at an airstrip with the tiny wood and tin shack hung with a crooked ‘DUTY FREE’ sign. Lots of sun burnt wazungu were milling about. It was very hot and we finally settled in the shade of one of the airplane wings. Both the crew of our plane and the crippled plane formed a tight circle of white shirts and ties as they discussed the situation. Eventually they began smoking cigarettes, laughing and betting Tuskers about what would happen. We didn’t catch much, but got a little concerned when we heard one guys say: “Restart the engines? What if it burns?! Am I to be responsible?!” We were glad our plane was ok…
1 comment:
I just about died laughing at the memory of skidding across the savananh through a foot of mud, only to look over at Grandma with her eyes tightly shut!
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