A towel fluttering in the crisp, cold morning breeze . . .

~~

Within the first few days of being on safari, we’ve seen all the typical bush animals, from antelopes to zebras, plus a few rarities - wild African dogs and a pangolin.

Even touching a pangolin is illegal, so this is the best shot we can get.

Its head is buried in the grass.

The pangolin, a rare, hard-shelled anteater, holds the distinction of the most trafficked mammal in the world. Despite having no medicinal value, pangolins are poached for their scales used in traditional Chinese medicine. In the 23 years our guide has been out in the bush, this is the 6^th pangolin he’s seen.

Wild African dogs on the move.

Wild African dogs, also known as African Painted dogs, are another rare sighting we had. Because the dogs are constantly moving and can run at 30 mph for up to three miles, seeing them is by chance – being in the right place at the right time. We were fortunate to come across a pack of about 15 dogs.

~~

It may be summer in San Diego, but here in Zimbabwe, winter is on the calendar for another month, and mornings are chilly as Mary and I prepare to head out for another day in the bush.

We’ve moved on to Nehimba Lodge, the second of three camps we’ve booked, and this one is a bit more rustic than the first one. Fortunately, it does have a bed, electric lights, shower, etc., but similarly to our past nights under the coziness of canvas, the room temperature is regulated solely by opening or closing the windows.

Or so I thought.

Pulling on my long woolen underwear, I notice a towel fluttering in the crisp, cold morning breeze inside our bathroom. Yes, all the windows and doors are closed, but the section where the wall meets the ceiling has an 8” gap to the outdoors, covered only by mosquito netting. This gap allows the wind into our room, making the inside temperature the same as the outside.

Despite the frosty mornings (frosty being a San Diego term used when the weather dips below 68F) here at Nehimba Lodge, we’re having a great time.

Nehimba, a word in Shona, one of the local languages, roughly translates to ‘Shit-ton of elephants’ or ‘A ton of elephant shit.’ Either way, with one, you have the other.

Before the sun makes its daily appearance over the horizon, we climb into the open vehicle and spend the morning banging and bouncing down rutted dirt roads in search of game.

Harris, our driver/guide, is following a single set of lion tracks but becomes a bit confused when they appear to backtrack on one another. His confusion quickly clears when we come up over a slight ridge, and two lionesses appear on our left. “There,” I yell.

Lazin' on a sunny afternoon.

Slowing to a stop not thirty feet from the pair, Harris calmly asks, “Do you want me to move? Your lenses might be too big to photograph them.”

“As long as it’s safe being this close, Mary and I can change lenses,” I tell him, a bit foolishly after coming eye-to-eye with these 300-400 lb killing machines.

During the half-hour or so we spend with the lionesses, Harris moves the vehicle several times to get better photos, coming even closer. I can imagine CJ is saying to herself, “Well, of course they did.” I look at my position in the open vehicle and the distance to the closest cat and estimate it to be less than 15’.

I put my camera aside and marvel at this setting. We’re not in a zoo, so there is no thick sheet of plexiglass serving as a safe viewing window. It was just us, the wide-open safari vehicle, and the cats.

Even though I desperately need to pee, getting out of the truck at this moment makes as much sense as fighting one of these lions over a banana. I tighten my bladder muscles.

Our perceived threat diminishes as a pair of warthogs mindlessly wander down the road, not 50 yds from us. Both lions become instantly alert, but with one too lazy to bother doing much of anything, the other is immediately in stealth-like attack mode.

Getting into attack mode.

Suddenly, the chase is on. The warthogs shuffle their stubby little legs as fast as possible as they make a desperate race to safety. The lioness sprints after. Minutes later, she returns, her tail between her legs. The warthogs survived the threat.

With lion thoughts of “Why should I waste energy to chase warthogs when we got easy pickens’ in that vehicle over there” running through her head, we decide to leave the two females and drive off.

Stopping for lunch at a watering hole, we are met by a few camp staff who have set up a table and chairs for us. The wood-burning grill is ablaze in preparation for grilling hamburgers. As we settle in to eat, a group of 19 elephants comes crashing through the bush and down to the water.

These are just some of the nearly 300 elephants we saw today.

It's exciting and yet bizarre, dining al fresco with elephants drinking, splashing, and wallowing in mud baths nearby. Once the elephants have their fill of water and mud, they move on. Another herd of 25-30 take their place at the watering hole.

I estimate we saw more than 300 elephants today. One herd has nearly 100 animals, ranging from big bulls with enormous tusks down to cute little babies you want to bring home.

Since it no doubt wouldn’t fit in the overhead baggage compartment, we leave it with its mom and head back to camp.