Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Our Mini-Staycation: Moremi Gorge

Me hiking in Moremi Gorge
My husband sees the world as full of possibilities. A former safari client once captured this well by saying “or, or, or” to describe Paul’s recognition of endless possible scenarios or plans. And, while this is a beautiful thing (in some ways), it sometimes prevents any plans from being made until one runs out of time and the future jumps up to smack you in the face! This is what happened with our vacation plans this year.

For the last couple of summer/winter breaks we’ve managed to take a two week overland trip somewhere interesting (2015 – Fish River Canyon in Namibia; 2014 – Malawi via Zimbabwe and Mozambique) and while I was hoping to do the same this year, I let the “or, or, or” go on a bit too long (we were first considering Zimbabwe (but worried a bit about the rioting taking place), then Zambia (but it’s quite expensive to drive in for a short visit – insurance, road tax, visas), then Northern Namibia) and so… we ultimately delayed so long we somewhat ran out of time and ended up doing a “staycation” instead.

If you are unfamiliar with the term a “staycation” it is when you spend a holiday in your home country rather than abroad (or at home and take day trips to local attractions). We had talked about returning to Moremi Gorge (in the Southeastern part of the country) after seeing the new chalets they built a few years back. The 2009 Furman Study Away group may remember the gorge as we hiked it during our time together in Botswana.

Crevice and Black pool
To be honest with you, I don’t remember much of the 2009 hike besides the terrifying initial stage of the hike. Very shortly after entering the trail, one must choose between swimming across an ice cold black pool and scrambling up a waterfall or scurrying up a rock face, laying on one’s stomach and slithering like a snake about 50-60 yards in a crevice which looked much too tight for human passage! I panicked. Not only was I overwhelmed by the fears of legal liability (what would Furman do if I lost a student off the side of a mountain? AND…what was Paul thinking bringing us here?!) but I don't exactly love heights or small spaces (and I loathe cold water)! 

The expanse of the crevice I slithered through
All the young enthusiastic students went through quite quickly and… I froze! This felt like Sophie’s Choice…impossible…which did I have a better chance of surviving? Ultimately I chose the rock slither but only with Paul talking me through the whole way and my holding onto his ankle with a death grip as he slithered in front of me (I have mostly forgiven him for bringing us there). After that, I don’t remember much of the rest of the hike. 

So…for our “staycation” I decide we should go back there. [My secret plan is to park myself at the base of the rock face/black pool and wait for him to return if they haven’t made a better way across. I’m hopeful that they must have done something if they bothered to build the chalets (I am terrified that they have not until we hike on the first day and arrive at the dreaded location)].

One bedroom chalet
The chalets are affordable and comfortable. They are self-catering so we need to bring all our food and supplies. There’s a beautiful outdoor shower run on solar power, a lovely porch for sundowners and a grill for food prep. At night, breath-taking views of the Milky Way greet us overhead and the mountain range surrounding the gorge looks like an ominous black wall of darkness. One night is so windy I am sure our thatch roofed chalet will take flight. The winds are so strong it sends our seat cushions and place mats into the thorny brush around us and carries one of the chairs on the porch down the side of the chalet and into the dirt!

Outdoor Shower
Kitchenette
Porch for sundowners
Our first full morning we sleep in (another thing about Paul is that he often underestimates how long it takes to get from point A to point B so what we thought would be a 5 hour drive was more like…8). By late morning we’re up and moving and decide to drive around the area a bit and get the lie of the land. We arrive at the trail head and are greeted by Zuma, a guide from the local community. He says he can take us for a brief walk to see some of the waterfalls but if we want to see the Cape vulture nesting spot, we’ll have to start out earlier the next day.

A bridge! Yippee!
Moremi Gorge is unlike any other place in Botswana. The permanent river keeps the area lush and green and Paul and Zuma spend much time discussing the scientific names of plants and trees (but I'm a sociologist, dammit!). When Paul asks about one Zuma doesn’t know he states that he is "still researching that one.” Paul likes this game and a walk that should take an hour and a half, takes…three. My heart palpitates in anticipation of having to make “Sophie’s Choice” again until we get to the spot and I see…a new bridge! A small climb up and down some rocks (holding on to cables in spots) and across the bridge gets us around the formerly risky spot (exhale!).

Waterfall in Moremi Gorge
Our Guide, Zuma, and I at Waterfall
On our longer hike the next day we make our way all the way to the vulture nesting spot. And, while on the 2009 trip, we had to scale a tall and treacherous rock face to get to the top of a mountain to look down into the nests (once I get past the post-crevice trauma I start to remember more), we are told by Zuma that they no longer allow people to do that because of the risk (Paul is deeply disappointed; I am deeply relieved!).

Cape Vultures Coming Off Their Nests
At the end of the gorge we get to the vulture nesting spot and look up to see many vultures flying overhead. Staring at the rock face across from us what looks like simply rocks at first reveals itself to be peppered with vultures sitting on nests. Our guide informs us that researchers came last year and counted 200 vultures on nests alone (not counting the ones soaring above). We look for a long time, like an adult game of “Where’s Waldo?” They are everywhere.

Cape Vulture Soaring Overhead
While the biggest fear triggers from last time are gone, the hike still involves some scurrying up rocks and crossing the small stream on multiple occasions but it is well worth the effort. 

On the edge of a rock face with cables to help
Making our way up to a viewing spot
There are also the dreaded mountain "stinging nettles" to beware of. Grab one of these by accident and you will remember it all night. Ouch!

Mountain stinging nettles - do not touch!
We are encouraged by a local birder in Maun before we leave to, in addition to seeing the Cape vulture nesting spot and the black eagles in the area, try to spot the mountain wagtail. We tell Zuma this and he does not disappoint. We spend some time at the second waterfall watching this beautiful bird wag his tail up and down as we searches for his lunch.

Mountain wagtail
Mountain wagtail
On our way back from Moremi Gorge we decide to divert and follow a sign for “Kaitshe Escarpment”. Throughout Botswana there are a series of signs with orange arrows that point you in a direction, off the beaten path, to find important historic/geologic sites. This sign brings us to the top of an escarpment (it is so exciting to see views from a point of elevation given that much of Botswana is F-L-A-T). When we finally get there we see stunning views of Sowa Pan and learn that a village was located at the top of this escarpment around 1000 AD. A large stone wall demarcates the edge the village. It takes us so long to get to the top of the escarpment that we decide to camp there for the night.
Sowa Pan from Kaitshe Escarpment
Stone Wall from Former Village (1000 AD)

We are all alone. At one point I hear something walking in the woods and explore to find a single white horse making its way along a well-worn cattle path (where is he going?). We have our sundowners overlooking the pan. Paul takes the opportunity to do some night photography and catches a breath-taking glimpse of the crescent moon (at a slightly different angle than we see in the Northern hemisphere). It is quiet and peaceful (except for the niggling feeling in the back of my brain most likely prompted by seeing the movie “Deliverance” – which, given that we camp in the middle of nowhere fairly often, I wish I had never seen!). 

Crescent Moon
Our drive back to Maun the following day takes us through Makgadikgadi Pans with a stop for lunch at Kubu Island (a camping spot in the middle of the pans loaded with Baobab trees). And so ends our mini-staycation and my last outing in Botswana before I return to the States for the start of the fall semester! 

Giant Baobab Tree (that's me at the base)

Monday, August 1, 2016

Predators: sometimes you win, sometimes you lose

Paul has left the tent to brush his teeth when I hear in a whisper, “Wild dogs! Wild dogs!” I rush out to see three wild dogs bounding through camp. They bounce and prance on full alert, clearly on the hunt for their breakfast. We follow them on foot, they pay us no attention. They double back and head out towards the open grassy plains. One perches himself atop a termite mound in hopes of getting a better look. 

The area comes alive as the potential prey becomes aware of the potential predator. A herd of zebra stampede off. Then a small group of water buck. Finally, impala take off at full speed, tightly clustered and running for their lives. The wild dog launches himself from his lookout and sprints towards the fleeing impala. “He’ll never catch them,” I think. “The gap between them is too wide,” I say to Paul. But at lightning speed he closes the gap. Two of his pack mates follow behind until one of the impala from the herd makes a life changing decision, he breaks off from the pack and heads towards the woods (NEVER LEAVE THE GROUP PEOPLE!). Now the entire pack rallies and it’s over for the stray. 

By the time we get in the vehicle and make our way across the pan all that remains of the impala is a large smudge of blood in the grass where the actual kill must have taken place. All five dogs have their heads down eating. If I didn’t know it was an impala, I would have no idea what it was. There isn’t much left. Two stop their gorging and sit to rest, bellies full and satisfied. One’s head and neck is totally covered with blood, I assume he was the sprinter who made the actual kill.

We watch them for a while until they are all satisfied and one by one they walk off into the woods. One straggler lingers behind making sure that no tasty morsels are left behind. He moves from one spot to another, picks something off the ground, chews a bit, then moves again and finds another nugget. Finally, satisfied, he realizes all his pack mates have left and heads off towards the woods himself.







Sometimes my students and past clients on safari have said they "want to see a kill". I really have no desire to. I saw (heard) a bat-eared fox killed by a leopard in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve once and the recollection of it still brings tears to my eyes. I know, I know…the circle of life and all, but that doesn’t make it any less brutal. I can’t help feeling bad for the impala and his poor choice. Just standing there eating your breakfast, chew, chew, chew, when out of nowhere a predator pounces. And it’s over in a matter of minutes. Geez! If I were an impala, I’d have an anxiety disorder!

We’re in Moremi Game Reserve for one night to give a star show to some clients on a mobile safari. Their enthusiasm for all we have to show them is contagious. Views of Saturn’s rings bring gasps and the bands on Jupiter, applause. It is so special to be part of someone’s safari experience by sharing the sights and stories of the Southern Skies with them. We pack up Paul’s 10-inch telescope and Bushmen tales of the constellations and we’re on our way.

Sunday on our drive back we decide to head out to Dead Tree Island, which is totally transformed since the last time we were there. With low flood waters this year we are able to drive in places we haven’t driven before and Paul turns on his GPS to gather the new road network. At one point in time, the GPS suggests we are under water in the Okavango Delta. Little does it know that things have changed. The area is mostly quiet in terms of animals – a few impala, wildebeest, but tons of baboons. We are coming across a mostly dry floodplain and see some lechwe grazing in the wet area. Lechwe are large antelopes with powerful hindquarters allowing them to push their way through reeds and wet grass. We see two safari vehicles stopped and amble over to see if they’ve spotted something.

They have, in fact, spotted a cheetah on the hunt for a lechwe. We watch for a long time and see nothing but grazing lechwe. Then we spot him, stealthily making his way through the high grass. If you look up from your binoculars, you lose him and must search again to find him. The lechwe are oblivious – chew, chew, chew. The cheetah picks his head up to get a closer look. We don’t know if the  lechwe heard him or saw him or smelled him but they cluster tightly together and use their strong hind legs to spring through the water away from the threat. Once a safe distance away they turn to watch him. As long as they have their eyes on him, they're safe. His cover has been blown. He sleeks off to find a shady place to rest under a bush. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.

Lechwe on the move

Cheetah in the high grass

Cheetah on the prowl