STUART FORSYTH .com

here is the continuation of the story.

Day three started early with the face-wash and the shuffle to the campfire for coffee and rusks. We discussed the morning’s walk with Steve and soon we were all bundled into the vehicle about to set out to the starting point for our walk. The air at 5:50am is quite chilly and we were all bundled up against the open air-conditioning that we so enjoyed the previous day. Arriving at the spot saw us wasting no time in donning our packs and heading off into the bush.The days walking was far more pleasant than Day 2 with us mostly following game trails and no ankle breaking rocks and not too many shin-snagging thorn bushes. The first big game we happened upon was a lone giraffe who had heard this troop of city slickers from a mile off and regarded us with a bemused long lashed expression that only a giraffe can give. Whenever we got too close for his liking he simply loped off a short distance turned around and fixed us with his interested look.

It was while playing bush tag with the giraffe that great excitement ensued, the ranger and Chris had seen lion a short way off but they were alert to our presence and disappeared into the bush. So perfectly camouflaged is the king of the animals that in all reality he could have been hiding a few meters away and we’d have missed him. We hot-footed in the general direction of the sighting but could only find a few tracks, confirmation of his fleeting presence.Retracing our steps we carried on along the game path and came across two rhino males fast asleep and oblivious to us. We were downwind of them so they were unable to smell us and even at 80 meters the decidedly myopic rhino would probably not see us. Of little comfort however was the bush, little more than a shrub actually, which provided us some shelter from being seen by a few tons of armored animal. Steve had reassuringly told us that morning that should we be told to climb a tree we should forthwith and without haste reconnect with the simian aspects of our heredity and scoot up as fast as we were able; great advise in a landscape with few trees able to support the weight of nine terrified men. So it was with much heart thumping when Steve whistled out loud and Mr. Rhino leapt to his feet and whirled to look at us; actually I got the impression he was squinting and couldn’t really see us but still.

Adrenaline levels upped a little when the rhino started pawing the ground and giving every indication of a morning charge in our general direction – they really are very very big up close and personal and I was left with no doubt that being run over by an angry rhino would be the comparison equivalent of me standing on a mulberry – very squishy, red and with lots of leaking juices. Eventually Able made some nasal-guttural noises which the rhino took offence to and the two of them thundered off in the opposite direction.

We then made for the riverine area and passed a few lone bull elephants. I quickly stepped off the path and was able to take this picture of a dry tree stump before the group realised I had wandered off with my camera again and the march was called to a halt while I fiddled with my exposure – I was really feeling self conscious about this by now. I love the textures and colours of this shot.

As we approached the river, Steve and Able would stop from time to time to survey the bush ahead for signs of game and danger.

The walk along the river was very interesting from a plant biodiversity point of view and it is incredible how much life packs in next to the little pockets of water. We came across a bleached skull which really highlighted for me how the bush, however beautiful and wonderful to visit, is actually a harsh environment where animals are fighting a constant battle for their survival. The protrusions from the horns are made by a boring [not as in yawn] moth that makes tiny holes in the horn and lays it’s eggs. The larvae are one of the two animals able to digest the chitin in the horn and the structures are formed from their chitinous excrement as they fight their way out. The other animal able to digest chitin is the crocodile; able to process hooves and horns and all manner of sharp poky bits that would otherwise interrupt the digestion of a fine meal.

The last photo in this morning set is that of the majestic and very funny coloured Fever Tree. Early settlers in South Africa would make camp in the refreshing coolness of riverine areas such as the one we found ourselves in; these areas are home to the Fever Trees. The other critter that really likes pools of river water in these parts is the Anopheles mosquito which carries the dreaded blood parasite which causes malaria. The settlers fell foul to the mozzies but never made the connection to the malaria and their heinous malady was blamed instead on the sick looking trees. The Fever Trees are covered in a fine greenish-yellow powder which brushes off like pollen; Steve told us that it was this powder that was blamed for the ‘fevers’. One more bit of tree trivia is that the fever tree has a very interesting way of excreting toxins. It will pick a low lying limb and somehow funnel all toxins to that limb. The branch then turns black, withers and dies and the rest of the tree flourishes. If you look at a larger version of the picture below by clicking on it you will easily be able to see the black limbs.

We returned to the vehicle and made our way back to camp for a sumptuous brunch of egg, bacon, sausage, toast, oven corn bread and cold beer.

After lunch the horns were out as the Marketos brothers battled it out for supremacy of the chess board. They and they alone have somehow managed to turn chess into a spectator sport.

At 3pm the drum called us out of our post-prandial lethargy and we were off again, this time to another riverine area where we were to have the most invigorating and terrifying experience of our trip.The walk was progressing beautifully, the air off the water was cool however I was a little concerned that due to the density of the bush growing near the river you could quite literally walk slap bang into an elephant. However these little niggles did not diminish the scenic beauty of the surrounds and I was able to take some lovely tree pictures – the picture below is a rock fig, perfectly adapted with flattened roots to cling to its rocky perch.

Now before I describe the incident that followed let me tell you about Steve. Steve was a very knowledgeable ranger who’s unflappable demeanor was a source of great calm to seven skittish city boys. He had been in a lot of interesting and dangerous situations which he described with humour to us around the camp fire. Steve had seen action, Steve knew what to do in any situation.Hence when the bush to our left literally erupted and I looked up to see unflappable Steve sprinting towards us, cocking the monster rifle and yelling for us to run I could have quite happily wet myself. I am pleased to say that this undignified event did not occur and the nine of us took to some pretty nifty high-speed sprinting. I dare say you would be hard pressed to find a trained athlete able to outpace our adrenaline soaked sprint for life. As the bull hippo got to the top of the bank where we had been standing moments before it paused and turned intent I’m sure of a little of the afore-mentioned mulberry squishing – thankfully Steve took this time to chamber a round in the rifle and the metallic sound of metal caused him to reconsider and rush off in the opposite direction.

When the rushing of blood in the brain had died down somewhat there was the definite joviality and back-slapping that can only come when manly-men have had a brush with big angry animals and the distinct possibility of grievous mortal harm. We continued on along the river in a somewhat less blase’ manner and the top spot directly behind the rangers, the coveted position for game spotting was now somewhat vacant with a lot of good-mannered ‘Please you go firsts …”.

A short time later we happened upon three even bigger hippo in a pool ahead, our path meandered directly past the pool and the big male made it quite clear that he was low on mulberry-fun and stood his ground, fixing us with a glare that dared us to attempt to come any closer. We took a collaborative decision that we’d had quite enough of near death experiences for one day and cut across the river circling back round to the vehicle.

We then drove to a wonderful sundowner spot where we could soak up the setting sun across a vista as far as the eye could see. Anthon and I took our tripods along and had a great time snapping the wonderful sunsets.

On the drive back to camp we did some night time game spotting and were lucky enough to see a hyena, a civet, a serval and two huge porcupines. We also drove past and then stopped and watched a lone bull elephant peacefully eating not more than 10 meters from the car.The evening after dinner was spent around the camp fire once more with some port and a smattering of pure malt whisky. As the conversation died away once more the sound of the fire became a mesmerizing focus to the blackness beyond and all sorts of night creatures going about their business. We drifted off to bed.

I was up early the next morning to take some pictures of the sunrise and after breakfast we were taken back to Skukuza and said sad farewells to our guides.

We took a slow meandering drive out of the park and I was able to take these last few pictures.

The Kruger Walk provides memories that will last me a lifetime, it is a special time in a special place with special people. I’d recommend it to anyone over the canned-game experiences so often touted as an authentic bush experience.It was incredible!

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