November 28, 2021

 

Satara, 1130

 

Sitting the restaurant with my sunglasses on, looking as cool as Roy Orbison… but I’m not. I left my glasses in my car, which is being washed now…. I can barely see.

 

Yesterday drove down from Olifants and took a long, quiet drive along the S100. Nothing exceptional from a game perspective, but many quiet, beautiful settings.  No cell coverage throughout the day so no new information on travel challenges. Somehow, in the middle of nowhere, I got strong cell signal and got an email from my friends at Wild Eye with whatever travel information they could share, and a text from my friend Karen Reed. And then it was gone and there was no reception through the evening at Orpen.

 

I woke up at 0400 to the sound of the first francolin, warning of the impending dawn. I looked at my phone and there were several new notifications. Cell phone service resumed sometime during the night. They included an email from Delta, confirming what had been reported in the media that the travel restrictions are limited to non-US residents. Am still considering whether to change up anything about my travel plans. It’s impossible to really assess levels of risk. For example, I could rent a car and drive to Johannesburg rather than take the one-hour domestic flight that I’ve booked. On the one hand, it’s an hour less trapped in a metal tube with strangers.  On the other hand, the drive is 6 or 7 hours long and hairy. Either way, I have a 16 or 17-hour flight in a tube full of strangers ahead of me. So, which is the greater risk?

 

So, I got up this morning and it was very cool (14.5 C) and the sun was coming up. I made a cup of instant coffee and went for a drive. Spent quality time at a hyena den with 5 beautiful, inquisitive cubs. These hyenas were very relaxed. I had to shoo cubs from chewing on the car (Avis loves that) and mom scarcely noticed. Then a meandering drive in beautiful soft light, taking in this last morning here. 

Headed back to Orpen and ran into a major scrum of cars, which can only mean lions.  And probably panting, hot, miserable lions sprawled out under a bush. I had quality lion sightings at Umlani and would rather not see lions now than fight the crowd just to see unshootable, miserable cats. Came back, changed up a few things and headed to Satara with the intention of a last breakfast here and to see if I could get my car washed. Most of the larger camps have that service available. I don’t feel like I must do it… but man, it’s really dusty out here and I’d be ashamed to bring the car back in the current state. On the way, crossed the dam overlooking a large body of water and there were hundreds of elephants congregating at the water. If you think animals don’t feel emotions like joy, you’ve never watched elephants playing in the water. It’s a joy for them and a joy to watch. The girls are cautious and tentative. Moms move them away from any approaching old bulls. The boys roughhouse and splash and dunk each other under water. One young dude threw an absolute tantrum, which must have lasted for 10 minutes. No telling what was upsetting him so. I couldn’t tell who his mother was and I’m sure she was doing her best to be invisible.

 

 

And then another scrum of vehicles, near the Satara camp. As I pulled up and stopped, I was looking at a large herd of buffalo, which certainly meant lions were around. A couple of folks whispered to me that lions were working the herd and the herd was visibly upset and nervous. After much searching, I could barely make out the top of a male lion’s mane in the grass. But he was down, and the herd was moving away. I decided to leave. Don’t know if that was the right call, but I could have waited for hours without results. My gut told me that lions would wait until dark, when it’s cooler and their superior night vision gives them an advantage with these dangerous animals. And later, no sign of a kill or buffalo so they must have moved off quite some distance.

 

November 29, 2021

 

Eastgate Airport, Hoedspruit

 

After breakfast, a long drive south to Tshokwane Trading Post and Picnic spot. It’s a nice location where you can buy rustic South African food and eat out under the trees, braving the monkeys and baboons. On the way, there were rumors of lions (again) and we all searched for a bit but they’d found a place to lay low and remain invisible.

 

Drove back toward Orpen but decided to take the little bit of my last day remaining to look for one of my favorite secluded spaces here.  I’d looked briefly for it shortly after I arrived in the Park but couldn’t remember exactly where it was and gave up. There was one more road I wanted to try. The afternoon was getting late so I gave myself until 1700, at peace with the idea that, if I didn’t find it, it would have to live on in old memories rather than in new memories. Nothing spectacular ever happened at the place for me, but it was secluded and shady and I’ve spent many hours just enjoying my coffee and the privilege of being there.

 

I headed south on the unpaved S140, one of the most corrugated roads in the Park, I think. Almost no traffic. Beautiful light. Usual suspects out and about. There’s a science to driving these heavily corrugated roads but I’ll be damned if I understand it. Mostly I try to drive fast, constantly searching for any pathway that wouldn’t jar my teeth loose. Driving fast on these roads is hard on everything, but not as hard as driving slowly….

 

The afternoon was getting late when I came to the turnoff for Talamati Camp. I was pretty sure that the turn that I’m searching for, marked by an unobtrusive, unsigned little two-track off to the left, was not this far south. But there were still 13 minutes until my self-appointed turnaround time of 1700, so I continued. What else was there to do. 

 

Passed some stalled roadwork, passed a group of impala with a large creche of lambs, and there, on the left was the turn-off. There. It. Was. With nine minutes to spare. I went down the two-track about a half kilometer and came to the spot. Everything changes in the bush, and throughout this trip I’ve found those favorite, secluded spots, and some have changed, and some are now unrecognizable. But this spot was exactly the same, leading to a quiet parking space on the banks of a dry riverbed, under a canopy of trees, including an enormous, beautiful fig tree. I stopped in this shade and tried to let go of the anxiety about time and travel and covid and commit all of this to memory. I shot some iPhone video to help cement the memory, but I know that I’ll never forget this place. And as I sat there, there was a kind of plopping around the vehicle, like things were falling out of the tree. I didn’t think much about that until I heard a quiet baboon vocalization and looked up, far into the canopy, and there were baboons lounging around, eating figs. Literally, lounging like Roman aristocrats, sprawled out, picking a fruit and if it didn’t meet their requirements, just dropping it to the ground. I don’t think they were trying to hit my car, but I’m certain they would have found that amusing. I snapped a few shots, and they couldn’t care less.

 

I don’t know what it is that makes a spot pleasing to the senses. I’m sure there’s some science about that, but this will always remain one of my favorite spots in the Park and obviously baboons also find much to enjoy in it. I stayed longer than my arbitrarily set deadline, marked it on the map and on the ground and eventually headed back, already feeling the anxiety of packing, and the focus required to do this arduous journey with so many damned unknowns.  I’ll take a one-hour flight from here to Johannesburg, then about a 10-hour wait while I get my PCR test and then board for the 16 plus-hour flight to Atlanta. Then the process of collecting luggage, going back through security for the long flight to Tucson. And then… Gina and I are still working on a plan. I’m trying to figure out a workable way to isolate for 10 days, out of an extreme sense of caution. And I don’t know if that even makes sense. 

 

We’ll see.  More later.