17 - Road Trippin

20 Sep 2010

Well I’m nearly finished with the cattle stuff. Have been spending some time with Tokkie and Dirkie showing them the ropes of the computer program. With some practice they should be able to take over without any problems. . . . . . hopefully.

David finished up his hunt with the 72-yr-old Costa Rican guy and we decided to head out on a road trip as there really is nothing to do here when we’re not hunting, filming or doing cattle stuff. Printed out a Google map, packed up a tent and some food and hit the road.

First stop was Chimanimani National Park on the eastern side of Zimbabwe, bordering Mozambique. We slept the first night at a very nice waterfall creatively dubbed Bridal Veil Falls. It was soooooo nice to be down there in that secluded little valley between mountains with the water and the moisture and the vegetation. We were the only people there and we would have stayed longer but there really was nothing else to do there except look at the falls.

So we moved on to a different area of the park which was as arid and hot as the falls were moist and cool. The parks worker who was watching over the place was ecstatic to see visitors. I think we were the first in his whole 14-day shift, which doesn’t really surprise me. Tourism in Zimbabwe is kind of an oxymoron at this point. We hiked following a map which had been printed in 1999 and which David had pilfered from the deserted and run-down national parks office in Chimanimani town. I was honestly surprised it hadn’t been rolled up and used as smoking paper yet. Anyway, the hike was incredible. A rugged 2 hours of nearly vertical landscape that was totally alien to anything I’d ever seen in my life. Huge tortured slabs of rock jutting out of the land below had been painstakingly ground into strange shapes by the eternal elements. Topsoil was nonexistent and little scrubby grasses somehow clung to meager existence in the sand. I felt sorry for them.

We crested and dropped down slightly into a sort of hidden plain surrounded by these strange mountains. The plain was laid bare and sunbaked. Part of it had been intentionally burned to encourage the grass to send up new green shoots, probably for cattle although we didn’t actually see any there. Tucked in the crook at the far end of the plain was a really beautiful waterfall and we spent an hour or so there enjoying the mist and munching on apples and fruit rolls before heading back across the plain and starting the long trek back out. We were pretty wiped out after it was all over, probably thanks to the mainly-flat landscape we’ve been tromping around in for the last 5 months. It’s amazing the different muscles that get used for different terrain.

Had a nice night’s sleep there on the side of the mountain and headed down the next morning, taking the parks worker with us. Apparently he decided his shift was over and he was going to hitch a ride with us into Mutare, the next big town on our route. Mutare was actually larger and more organized than we thought it would be. Picked up a couple of things from the supermarket and continued north to the Rhodes/Nyanga National Park. Upon arriving we were astonished to find in the office, along with the usual parks workers and hangers-about, a hippie! She had harem pants and a tank top on, her hair was all in black-style extension braids, and of course she had the requisite face piercing. However, she earned my admiration when I learned she was traveling around Zimbabwe on the “public transport.” Cringe. Anyway, we teamed up and went on a walk to another nice waterfall, which David climbed, and returned covered in small worms. Hm. Hopefully not the burrowing type, still waiting to see.

The next morning we gave our hippie a lift 10-ish miles from the camp to do the short hike up a small mountain to the highest point in Zimbabwe. It was one of the windiest places I’ve ever been, windy enough for me to cop out and sit in the car while David and the hippie hiked up to it. Apparently I didn’t miss out on much. The wind was bad, of course, but also the air clarity was pretty bad, from a combination of dust and smoke from people burning the grass, so there wasn’t much to see from the top.

After that we three made a quick side-trip to a trout hatchery in the park. It was small and looked fairly unregulated but there were trout there, some really big ones too. We then headed out of the park and dropped the hippie off on the side of the road at the junction where our ways parted. We headed northwest, through the dingy, artificial-looking capital city of Harare and continued on up to Chinhoyi where there were supposedly some nice caves. There was a cave, and the clear blue pool in the bottom of it was amazing, but that was really about the only thing that was. Everything was graffitied on and chipped off and stinky. The camp right next to the cave (and the highway) was full of squatters and we spent a very alert night sleeping there in our tent. Every time we heard footsteps outside our tent David would poke his head out, knife in hand, to make sure our truck was not being broken into. We left early the next morning and continued still north, heading for Mana Pools National Park.

Mana Pools is the place where every Zimbabwean tells us we have to see before we leave. And now we know why. The entry and camping fees for this park were twice what they were for the other parks, probably because it was really the only one that could still be called functional. The campground was neat and orderly, with numbered sites right along the Zambezi River which forms the border between Zimbabwe and Zambia. When we drove into camp there was a bull elephant right there plucking branches from the trees, to the delight of the white campers sedately watching from their lawn chairs.

Driving around the park that afternoon there was an abundance of wildlife, including things we don’t normally see around Threeways like buffalo, hippo and elephant. But it wasn’t until nighttime when we discovered what the real attraction of Mana Pools is. As we sat by our small fire finishing our dinner David looked off to the side and spotted something sitting in camp a short way off. He shone the flashlight towards it and lo and behold it was a hyena! In camp! It trotted off away from the light, not really threatened but obviously not happy with having been spotted.

Anyway, we decided to go for a short night walk around camp and saw plenty of hippo, buffalo and more hyena. During the night the sounds of life all around us were amazing. All kinds of munching and grunting and laughing and whooping. At one point we opened the tent door to find a small herd of buffalo grazing not 5 feet from our tent in the moonlight. It was thrilling. We considered staying another day just so we could spend another night there, but decided it was time to head home.

The original plan was to stay overnight somewhere south of Harare, but David decided he would rather not deal with the hassle of finding a good place to stay and pushed through to Threeways. I was secretly glad he did, although I was on the edge of my seat the whole drive after the sunset. The roads here are basically just wide enough for 2 cars to comfortably fit side by side, with no shoulder or safety zone in case someone passing up ahead does not make it in enough time. The sides of the roads are absolutely littered with the crumpled remains of head-on collisions. Scary.

But we made it back safely and have spent an incredibly hot, slightly boring day here organizing our room and relaxing, which is probably what we will be doing for the next 6 days while waiting for the 26th, when we get on a plane back to civilization.

16 - Costa Ricans and Cattle

28 Aug 2010

Dirkie’s been back for a few days now, and it’s so nice to have her back. The new lot of hunters are here, a group of 6 Costa Ricans. They are so funny and entertaining to be around, but it’s very crowded here. Tokkie brought in 3 extra PH’s to handle the overload, and David’s been busy nonstop. His client, whose name I’m still not sure of, is a tall, slender, older man who’s always smiling no matter what happens. However, he’s not much of a walker so David’s been sitting with him in the blinds every day, all day. Doesn’t exactly make for great footage, so I’ve been doing more loafing.

Today was the day we were supposed to get started on the last sweep through the cattle but. . . . .

Last night round about 3 am some fool decided to sneak into David’s client’s room and make off with his pants and his wallet. So the whole ranch is being turned upside down to try and root out the culprit. Unfortunately the client didn’t tell anyone until 7-ish this morning, so whoever it is has a pretty decent head start. So the cattle will have to wait until Monday. Oh well.

On a good note, we’ve been having more warm days than cold, although it means that the greenery is more like greyery and brownery now. The 3 extra PH’s here are great fun to be around, always joking and telling stories and fooling around. One of them was attacked by a wounded leopard a while back, and he has the footage on his computer. Verrrrry scary. Luckily he was not seriously injured, but it was a scary sight.

1 Sep 2010

The Costa Ricans are still here. Seems like more things are being wounded than killed, but at least they are having a good time. I’ve been going out to the cattle during the day with Tokkie and straightening out all the tags and making sure I have the right information on all of them. Time-consuming, but it means the end is near woohoo!!

Tokkie was busy one day and we weren’t going to be able to do anything with the cattle so I went out hippo hunting with one of the temporary PH’s and his client. It was a wonderfully hot day, I am SO glad the weather is warm. And it seems like it will be this way for a while. Spent the whole day walking and walking and walking. The client shot at and missed the hippo, so we spent more time walking to try and find the thing, which had mysteriously vanished from the lake after getting a real fright. Other than that, the most excitement we had that day was when one of the trackers nearly stepped on the tail of a 5-ish foot long snake. Screamed like a little girl! Got a little sunburned, a little sore, but it was nice to be outside filming again.

We’ve been without power for a few days, so haven’t been on the internet too much. I’ll use that as my excuse for not writing for so long. David’s client wounded a kudu last night, so he’s out there today with one of the dogs and half a dozen trackers trying to find the thing. From the footage it looked like it was a very nice one so they’re hoping to recover it. Also, it’s just not nice to let animals wander around in the bush with bullet holes in them.

I guess we’ve reached the stage where life here has become fairly normal, because I really can’t think of anything exciting or out of the ordinary to relate. Or maybe that’s the result of not writing often enough, who knows. Either way, will try to have something exciting to say next time!

15 - Just Life

12 Aug 2010

Good gracious I’ve done it again. It’s been nearly 2 weeks since last I wrote. Oh well. Things here have been pretty hectic. David, Tokkie and the crew of 5 Australians came home. I think I was probably equally grateful for their safe return and for the replenishing of my chocolate supply. The hunting in South Africa was successful, with all the Australians getting more than one animal in a 48-hour period. The hunting down there is of a whole different breed, firstly because of the terrain. The land is open grass and scrub land. This makes spotting the animals a breeze, but complicates the stalking part. Here at Threeways the bush is still much thicker than it usually is at this time of year, although the last 2 or 3 days of fierce wind is promising to thin it out. But even if all the leaves were gone, it’s still forest, making spotting the animals before they spot you the name of the game.

Tokkie had one night’s rest and then took off in the morning to take Mandy, Terri and David back down to the airport. He’s been doing an obscene amount of time behind the wheel lately. I would probably be out of my mind by now if I were him. He seems to take it in stride, though, as he usually does with things that are unpleasant but necessary. David was assigned to act as guide for one of the Australians, a pleasant guy named Marcus. Another one was given into the custody of Kenneth, a black PH who has been temporarily hired to take up the slack. And the other three Aussies were sent off to a different ranch, supposedly to hunt buffalo amongst other things.

David slipped into his new role with pride and excitement and has been executing it with all the professionalism that can he can muster. Unfortunately I have been feeling somewhat under the weather and have been opting to catch all the extra sleep I can in the mornings. So I send him off at 6 am with the cameras and we have been separated during the day, seeing each other for a short time at lunch and then again before bed. It might be an alright arrangement except for one unfortunate character flaw of David’s. Unfortunately it’s this same character flaw which makes him a good surrogate PH: his enthusiasm for the clients. When we have a spare moment after lunch in the afternoons, all my significant looks, hints, and throat-clearing are not enough to drag him away from the guys to spend some time relaxing with me. It takes nothing short of a blunt statement expressing how sure I am that the clients would like some time to themselves to extract him from his rapt conversations with them. Same concept goes for after dinner. Maybe his enthusiasm will cool with time but somehow I doubt it.

Anyway, David succeeded in acquiring an extremely nice kudu for Marcus, as well as a warthog and 2 impala, which were all the animals Marcus wanted. The other guys came back from hunting buffalo with sad tales of how there was not only a marked lack of buffalo, but most other types of game as well. So, somewhat dissatisfied, we sent them all back down to the airport. The next group, also Aussies, arrived the next day and began hunting today. David is again in charge of one of them and has been out all day hunting and getting to know them. Half of the group has again been send off to a different ranch, and so our numbers here remain handleable.

Dirkie decided to take this time to head to South Africa and continue working on her wedding plans so I have been stuck in the office doing. . . . .well. . . . . not a whole lot. Sometimes I wonder what keeps Dirkie busy here all day long. And then I wonder what it is that I’m not doing that I’m supposed to be doing. . . . Also the weather has become very cold and blustery which makes me want to just snuggle on the couch and read and watch tv. Kind of sad I’m missing the summer weather in the other hemisphere. But 4 of our 6 months here are spent already and we’ll be back in paradise before we know it. Enjoying the wildness and fun while we’re here. Doing what good we can. And hopefully learning something in the process.

15 Aug 2010

Well it’s been more of the same here. David has been having fun guiding one of the Aussies, while the others have gone off to Mateke Hills. David is beloved by all the hunters and loves the attention and being in charge. He got another nice kudu last night for this new guy, and now they are after eland.

The Aussies have been really good conversational fun at mealtimes and it’s been nice to have some humor and new stories around. Australia seems like someplace we’d like to visit in the near future. Quinn came back from the concession a few days ago. He succeeded in getting a nice elephant for his client, but the buffalo were nowhere to be found. They have been looking for leopard here, but so far with no joy. And the client is leaving tomorrow so chances are not looking too good for the leopard. Oh well.

The weather the last couple of days has taken a turn for the better. The winds have gone and the temperature during the day is in the 70s and 80s, sunny in the morning and clouding up a little towards the late afternoons. Everything is drying out still, and there’s very little green left in the bush. But the rainy weather usually comes October-ish, so the flora and fauna here won’t have to wait out a long dry season.

Dirkie is still down south, so I’ve been stuck hanging around the house still, monotonous but relaxing in a way too. Definitely won’t complain when Dirkie makes it back here. Am just about finished with the cattle stuff. The last big step is to go back out there and put them through the crush again one by one and correct all the tags. And I’m sure there are one or two out there that were not in the group when I did the initial roundup too. After I do that, all that’s left is to recheck that they’re all in the program one more time and send the records off to be registered with the national herd registry here. Will be really glad to have all that settled.

14 - And More Rain!!

Can’t believe it’s another rainy day today. After a week or so of the normal freezing morning, burning afternoon, freezing night and clear skies, the rain returned. It’s been lightly raining or drizzling all day today. We went out this morning despite the weather to check on the leopard baits for David the hunter, who has had a really great hunt so far and has bagged amazing specimens of buffalo, hippo, nyala, zebra, bushbuck and giraffe. The family has another 4 or 5 days and the leopard which was actually number one on his list is playing hard to get. Of 6 or 7 baits we have scattered around in the bush, only 3 have been hit, and all by females which are technically illegal to kill. So we’re holding out for a male but time is running short. And although the rain makes for beautiful scenery it really spoils the hunting. And makes for a freezing cold ride on the back of Quinn’s Toyota Hilux.

David left me 3 days ago to go down South with Tokkie. The two of them have been shopping ever since and are picking up the new clients tomorrow. They will then head further south to hunt a few animals which don’t live here on Threeways and then drive all the way back up here to the ranch. They should be home on Tuesday if everything goes as planned. It’s even more freezing cold down there than it is here and David dislikes shopping nearly as much as I do. Needless to say we’re both excited for this little excursion to be done with.

The day David left I went out with the group hunting in the morning, but by the afternoon I was feeling somewhat sulky and sorry for myself so I decided to take the rest of the day off. I was relaxing in the house roaming around on the internet and flicking through tv channels when I heard 4 shots very close to the house. I called on the radio to see what was going on and my worst fears were realized. They had shot a big bull giraffe. And I wasn’t there to catch it on film. I was very disappointed and felt even sulkier than before but decided I should at least venture out there and get some shots of the result. Nothing nearly as spectacular as it would have been to film the action but I did get some nice photos. And it was fascinating to see the giraffe so up close. It was the first one I’d seen shot and it was an interesting sight. It was a huge animal but it honestly looked much smaller on the ground. It had a very strong herbal, almost sagey smell to it and it was covered in scrapes and scars from past fights with other bulls. The sun was down by the time the skin had been removed and most of the meat butchered up so I did not get to see what the giraffe’s insides looked like, but apparently another giraffe needs to be shot sometime in the near future to replace a skin that went bad so hopefully I’ll get to explore the inner workings then.

Every afternoon Mandy has sat by the same water hole waiting for that same eland to come back. Apparently her dad has a different sub-species of eland at home and would like to have one of these ones. So far no luck though. The giant bull has not shown hide nor hair at the waterhole for days now. And there’s almost no chance he’ll show up today with the weather being what it is. The really disappointing thing is that Mandy has only shot one thing since she’s been here, and it happened after everyone came back from the buffalo/hippo hunt down on the concession. Tokkie asked me to stay at Threeways and get some footage of a female hunter for the promo video, but in reality not a whole lot of good advertisement has come of it. I could easily have gone down and seen the buffalo and hippo hunts and still been back in time for the one shot Mandy’s actually gotten off.

She’s hunted every white-tail season with her dad for the past who knows how many years and so she’s undoubtedly a good shot. But you don’t hunt white-tail from the back of a vehicle, or on foot usually so she’s been nervous and timid. David actually was beginning to get frustrated because after 5 days or so she had still not killed anything and it was making him look like he didn’t know what he was doing. The truth was that there were actually a few opportunities in those days where a hunter more experienced in this style of hunting would have had no problem taking. Anyway, the perfect opportunity came while we were out checking the leopard baits one morning. About 150-200 yds down the road, lo and behold a zebra walked out. It stood in the very center of the road almost perfectly broadside and stared at us long enough for Mandy to get settled and get a shot off. It was ever so slightly low, but did the trick and there were hugs and handshakes all around.

So I decided to nap instead of venture back out into the elements this afternoon. It's been lazy and relaxing. Maybe I'll be more productive tomorrow :) Pictures to come soon.

13 - Rain!!!

22 July 2010

Today is one of the most unexpectedly beautiful days we’ve had in a very long time. I woke up this morning at the usual 6 am and decided I was going to sleep in. Poor David had to get up to take the clients out hunting. I pawned off camera duty on him as well and snuggled deeper under the covers. Round about 7:30 my body refused to stay asleep any longer and I rolled out of bed, did some long-overdue tidying up and headed outside.

To my astonishment and great pleasure the sky was overcast with low-hanging grey clouds. The air was still and warm as though insulated by the fluffy cloud blanket overhead. It was also deliciously moist and my pleasure grew as I started walking up towards the house and began feeling little drizzly kisses on my face.

By the time I reached the house the drizzle had turned to light rain and everything was foggy and subdued and beautiful. My hair has returned to its normal state of semi-frizz and my nasal passages which have been tortured by the dryness for the past weeks are finally happy again. I know the rain can’t last forever, but I am sure enjoying it while it’s here. It’s actually a very rare thing to have rain right now, as it’s the middle of the winter dry season.

Anyway, we sent Charlie and Russ (who did eventually succeed in getting his leopard) back to the states a few days ago. It was a sentimental parting as we’d all become good friends and had lots of fun together over the last 2 weeks. The new clients are a small family, mother (Terry), father (David) and daughter (Mandy). The father and Quinn went off to Chikwalakwala yesterday to hunt buffalo, and David is in charge of taking the daughter out for zebra and giraffe. The four of us sat yesterday in a blind next to a waterhole without seeing hide nor hair of zebra or giraffe. We did, however, see a rare and wonderful sight: a bull eland.

It was the first time in my life I was able to actually see an eland’s entire body at the same time. Every other time it has just been a flick of the massive hind quarters as it propelled itself away into the bush, or a glimpse of the upright spiral horns as it hurtled itself away from me. In other words, I’ve only ever seen them running. But yesterday he was totally unaware of our presence in the blind and he magestically sauntered out in the open, wary but unafraid, heading towards the water. I was speechless at the sight of him. Huge, heavy, masculine body covered in a flawless hide the color of dry grass. The muscle rippled and flowed beneath his skin with each step. His face was incredibly intelligent-looking with big bright eyes and thick horns sticking straight up between his ears. His neck was nearly as thick as the rest of his body with a draping dewlap swinging down low to his chest. An incredibly beautiful animal, and an extremely rare sight. There are plenty of them here on the ranch but they are shy and reclusive and do not like lingering where people are. I was secretly glad when Mandy decided she would not shoot it because she was unsure if she had permission from her father to take an eland.

Other than that, not a whole lot has been going on. David has discovered that mahogany is still too hard for his power tools. I think he’s resharpened the chainsaw blade 3 or 4 times already and is beginning to get discouraged. Apparently the wood is easier to cut when it’s still slightly damp, but we only discovered this after days of battling to cut.

I have been dismayed by the gradual deconditioning and disappearance of every ounce of muscle on my body, despite the active lifestyle here, and have put my foot down. There is no gym here or dumbbells or anything so I have taken 2 large plastic bottles and filled them a little past halfway with sand from the river. The bottles have handles on them convenient for lifting in various ways, but also for slipping on to each end of a bamboo pole to use for bench press or squats or biceps curls. We’ll see how long I’m actually motivated to stick with it, but I have succeeded in making my whole body deliciously sore, a feeling I’ve not had in too long a time. So a special shoutout to all you ladies out there in the Berea Curves sticking with it and keeping in shape. You are awesome!

David and I celebrated our 3rd anniversary a couple of days ago. Seems like it’s been much longer than 3 years. We’ve done so much in so little time. Last year I started making an anniversary book on my computer, and now that we have a couple of years behind us it has been so fun to look back and see what we were doing, what we were thinking. Part of the book is for each of us to write a secret message to the other that will be sealed to be opened on our next anniversary, and it was so sweet to open that note from David and read the words that he wrote to me a whole year ago. Can’t wait for next year to read what he wrote this year!

Well as I’ve been writing this the light rain has escalated into a downpour and the roaring on the metal roof of the house is music to my ears. Loving it here in Zimbabwe but can’t wait to get back to tropical rainforest.

12 - Pianos and Croc Hunting

11 July 2010

Well we finished our marathon shopping trip in South Africa and picked up the clients from the Joburg airport. They are Charlie and Russ, both from the south and both hilarious. Charlie somehow got to calling me Elizabeth, and I was going to correct him but I loved how it sounded in his awesome southern accent so I didn’t. He later on found out what my real name is and was somewhat confused as to why I kept letting him call me ‘Lizbeth. Guess he just didn’t understand.

We headed north the next day and were appalled when we arrived at the border. The line to get in to get our passports stamped was half a mile long and probably would have taken us six hours or so to get through had we been required to stand in it. However, Tokkie knows some reliable people at the border who help expedite the process for him in return for an occasional impala or warthog. Sometimes I wish things worked that way in the States.

The day after we got back to Threeways was Sunday. Having discovered there is a church branch in Masvingo we decided to make the trek out there and see what it was like. We showed the address to Tokkie before we took off and he looked at us doubtfully and told us it was in the “townships,” which is another word for ghetto-ish neighborhood full of black people. We were not deterred and made the 2 and a half-hour journey to Masvingo where we were directed to the correct area by a number of different people. We had no idea whether to be looking for a house, store, hovel or some other sort of building as we had heard it was a fairly tiny branch and so we were astonished to spy a very Mormon-ish looking brick building with a steeple on it and a big plaque on the side with Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints written on it.

We pulled through the open gate into the parking lot where there was only one other vehicle: a white truck with the “LDS Charities” logo on the side. We cautiously entered the building and were greeted by a smiley young man in his Sunday best. They were just singing the opening hymn as we made our way to our seats in the chapel. To our surprise there was a white face sitting up behind the pulpit, and another one playing the electric piano. The rest of the congregation was black, but all were nicely dressed and singing their hearts out. It was fast and testimony Sunday and nearly every person in the room got up and bore their testimony. It was a very neat experience and we had a great time. The white couple apparently only made it out to Masvingo once in a month or 6 weeks and so we were lucky to have caught them. They were from Canada and were serving a mission out here, but will be going home in a few weeks.

Back on the ranch, Charlie and Russ have been making life a lot of fun. They love to joke and play around. They’re always making fun of each other, one saying how the other is deafer than a doornail, the other saying he would use the one as leopard bait but the leopard would never come because he smells so bad, and so on and so forth. They actually remind me a lot of David and Sean when they get together. Lots of fun.

Charlie’s main goal was to shoot a croc, and so for the first 4 or 5 days he and Quinn made daily trips down to the Limpopo to find him a good one. On the 2nd day I asked if I could go along and film the hunt. Charlie obviously had some reservations about whether or not I’d be able to keep up and whether or not I would do anything to put his hunt in jeopardy. I reassured him I knew how to handle myself in the bush and after a while he accepted me as part of the group.

When we finally decided which one he was going to shoot, everything happened fairly quickly. Quinn led us down to a small reed patch on the river and we crawled forward slowly until we were in position. Charlie was just taking the first look down his scope and I was still moving into position to get the shot on film. Generally a hunter will take a minute or two to get comfortable and be 100% sure of the shot on a crocodile because the target area is only about the size of a quarter and any mistakes will mean a wounded croc with almost no chance of recovering the trophy. So Quinn was whispering into his ear to take his time and I was lining up to find the best angle to film from when BANG!! The shot took Quinn and I both by surprise. Quinn’s ears were uncovered and my recording of the event was mediocre at best. Apparently all Charlie heard was Quinn tell him to shoot, and so he shot. Deafer than a doornail.

Anyway, the shot was true and after 2 more just to be sure, the croc gave a few last spasms which shook it off the bank and into the water. However, he was in an eddy and was not swept away in the current. All that was left to do was send Fani out in an inflated tire tube with 2 shovels for paddles and some rope to attach to the croc and we had the trophy on the shore. We took plenty of pictures and skinned the thing. I had a lot of fun digging around in its insides and seeing what was there. It was a female and full of eggs and all sorts of other fun surprises. The heart was beating in my hand long after I had cut it out of the chest and sliced each chamber open to see what was inside. Really cool.

I was actually relieved to have the croc hunting over, as it meant a daily 3-hour each way journey in Quinn’s Toyota Hilux pickup truck. Charlie and Quinn of course sat in the cab, and I had to figure out how to make myself comfortable in the bed with the trackers. It was cold and windy and uncomfortable and my eyeballs were constantly at risk from the thorn bushes flying past my face.

Back here at Threeways Russ has been hunting for a week for his leopard. He and Tokkie are sitting tonight in a blind where a bait has been eaten. Hopefully they will be successful. After leopard Russ wants a croc and a hippo. Not excited for another croc, but a hippo might be fun.

One really nice perk about being based at Threeways instead of the concession is my new piano. I worked long and hard to find it while in South Africa, but finally succeeded. At first we went to look at some really nice refurbished upright pianos. The price was decent and they looked and sounded great. The problem was that we were not going to be able to transport any of them back to the ranch that trip. It would have to wait another 2 weeks or so. So I started thinking that maybe an electric piano was the way to go. They are portable, cost about the same, never need tuning and can be resold for nearly the same price without too much hassle. So I called every ad in the classifieds and finally found someone who had a good enough one for a decent enough price. The piano was delivered to us the morning we were leaving South Africa, and I was playing it that night in my room.

I have since relocated the piano to the lounge area where I entertain (in more than one sense of the word) any guests who are there in the evenings. My repertoire is small and simple but I’m working on expanding it. It’s amazing the amount of free sheet music available on the internet. It’s also amazing the difference it’s made in my state of mind. Without music things just never quite feel complete.

11 - Unborn Cows and Snakes on the Toilet

30 June

Well the piano in Musina didn’t work out so great. David, Tokkie and I went across the border to check it out, and to do some other errands and shopping. The crossing was a breeze, surprisingly, except for the part where David and I had overstayed our visas by something like 45 days. But I smiled at the nice man behind the counter and apologized and promised never to do it again and he waived the 500 rand each fee.

We made it to where the piano had been resting for years in a somewhat run-down home on property owned by Tokkie’s best friend Frank. The property had basically become a storage yard for all kinds of might-be-useful-someday junk. It was the kind of place I could have poked around in for hours. I love junk. Especially old junk. So I very eagerly entered the home and was shown to a deserted hallway where the poor piano stood forlornly as it had obviously done for many years. It was a beautiful antique, lovely wood, probably real ivory keys, very finely filigreed with carvings. But obviously not played or maintained for a very long time. I opened it and caressed it in anticipation, but my heart sank at the dreadful sound that came from it as I tested out a chord. I rechecked what notes I was playing just to make sure that it was not human error, played the beginning strains of “A Poor Wayfaring Man.” The melody was unrecognizably out of tune, but in addition to that there were obvious mechanical problems with the instrument beyond simple tuning issues. I almost started crying as I realized there would be no use in bringing home this poor neglected piece. I felt very sad for the poor piano as I gave it a last look over my shoulder and left it standing in its hallway, to remain unplayed for the next who knows how many lonely years.

The next few days on the ranch were spent relaxing, helping out in the office, and digging hard and deep into the mess of cattle records. David and I spent days in the cattle pens putting each animal through the crush to record its identity and take a picture. I got tired of chasing each animal around in order to get a good picture and settled on the method of simply snapping a quick shot as each cow was let out of the chute. Some cows exited sedately and with dignity, making for wonderful photography. Others launched themselves out wild-eyed and kicking. These made for wonderful action shots, although their value for later identification of the animals is definitely questionable.

Once all the animals were inspected, I entered each of them into the BeefPro computer program, reassigning many of them with new numbers to try and get the all onto some sort of sensible system. I then made a worksheet to link each animal’s old numbers to its new ones. This all sounds fairly simple, but it meant long hours at the computer, and was definitely not the most fun part of the trip. But it is necessary and something I said I would do here. I still have to attach each animal’s picture to the respective file, and enter in data about artificial insemination and pregnancy test, which I am now going to say a short word about.

The veterinarian who does the pregnancy determinations (PD’s) for Tokkie’s cattle is one of the most awesome people I’ve met here in Zimbabwe. His name is Oom Japie (pronounced yahpee). He is in his late 70’s, early 80’s, but with a great sense of humor and an incredibly active mind. His personal history was nothing too new to us. . . a Rhodesian farmer born and raised and now just scraping by after his whole life was taken from him during the land grab. He is an infinite well of knowledge about the history of Africa in general, but also the area immediately surrounding Threeways. The stories he told us around the dinner table had all of us youngsters completely enthralled, wide-eyed in wonder. Wild tales of the characters who had inhabited and tamed the veld, of lion hunters and war times and of how things were done back in the day.

But Oom Japie was in his element with the cattle. For anyone who does not know how a cow is tested for pregnancy, allow me to enlighten you. A gloved hand is inserted into the cow’s rectum (sometimes up to the elbow), through which her internal reproductive organs can be palpated for signs of a growing fetus. I was present for the whole 200 something PD’s he did, to record the results. About halfway into it, I was overcome by my curiosity and asked Oom Japie if he had brought an extra glove with him.

Oom Japie seemed actually pleased at my interest and was an excellent and patient instructor. The world inside a cow’s rectum is actually amazingly complex-feeling. During early pregnancy, there are only subtle signs that anything is going on, and I was instructed to search for these signs with “bold, sweeping motions” of my hand. A cow who was around 4 months pregnant was somewhat more obvious, with a small but mobile calf easily felt within the womb. But my absolute favorites were the cows who were 7 months pregnant or more. I could feel the entire calf moving around inside the cow. When I grabbed his little hoof, he would yank it back out of my hand. I held their little heads in my hand, and one of them started nibbling on my finger through the layers separating me and him! It was truly a magical experience, manure and all.

I was sad to see Oom Japie go, but grateful for the stories and hands-on lessons I’d had from him. He will be emailing David and I some articles he’s had published about his research on how the Great Zimbabwe ruins were actually built by Venetians. After he left, we had another dull few days entering more cattle data. A married couple stayed in the camp for a few days. The wife was originally from Japan, the husband from Denmark. They were working for the UN and had traveled all over the world for their jobs. We took them out on a game drive and it was really wonderful to see how they appreciated the wildlife and the beauty of the outdoors. Some people either just don’t see how amazing it is, or don’t think it’s cool to express it, but these two had no qualms about appearing amazed and awe-struck. It was actually quite refreshing.

The next interesting occurrence happened a few days after the UN couple left. I was in the house working on the computer, David got up from the couch to take a potty break. He re-emerged from the bathroom in record time, and told me that I had to come see what was on the toilet. Well, David has tried this ploy on me before and so I was not about to leave what I was doing. He sometimes has a kindergarten-ish fascination with the toilet and all things surrounding it. However, this time he repeated himself and it was obvious he was not trying to trick me into anything disgusting. I got up and cautiously peered around the door into the toilet room and, lo and behold, there was the tail of a snake hanging into the toilet bowl!

I was horrified to think of how many times I had gone to the bathroom that day on that same toilet, and even more so after David coaxed the thing down onto the floor and we discovered it was a spitting cobra!! It was only maybe 2 feet long at most, but it was terrifying to think of the terrible fate David and I had both been spared. David caught the thing and dispatched it with a ballpoint pen through the brain. Since this incident I always take a really good look at the toilet before I take a seat.

My birthday was a lazy, relaxing affair. I slept in late, did some work on the cattle stuff, went for a walk with David, and generally loafed around. David squeezed some fresh orange juice for me, Tokkie and Dirkie brought me some bananas and avocados from town, and then I had the most divine foot massage from David later on that evening. David hates feet, and so it was an especially meaningful gift.

The next day (yesterday) Tokkie was leaving for South Africa. David and I decided that I would go with him. We both would have gone but that would have left nobody at the ranch, and would have made for a crowded ride once we picked up the 2 hunting clients who arrive on the 2nd. I went mainly to do some looking for a good, cheap piano, as well as some music for the hunting videos. And some books. And some tools for bead-making. And a few other odds and ends.

The ride down to SA with Tokkie was long but enjoyable, with the border being the exception. Generally leaving Zim to go into SA is painless and quick. But apparently someone decided recently that everyone who passes through the border must have their name recorded in the system. This one simple change had the effect of bringing the works to a grinding standstill, and the line to get into the immigration building to get an exit stamp took us 2 hours to get through. It was ridiculous and we were both relieved when it was over. The rest of the drive was spent in pleasant conversation, some of it geared towards gleaning information for my book, some of it just pleasant conversation.

Today we shopped. And shopped. And shopped. And anyone who knows me knows how little I enjoy that sort of thing. The perfect piano is still eluding me, and I’m beginning to lean towards a keyboard rather than an actual upright piano, mainly for convenience’s sake.

I have also been on the computer more than I have been in a while. The internet at Threeways is good enough for email, occasional Googling, etc. However, it is not good enough for Limewire or youtube or any other kind of live streaming-type programs. So I have been spending my spare time here in SA at Tokkie’s brother’s house enjoying the world of free music now available to me. I really don’t know how I survive without it.

It’s cold here, and last night I awoke roughly, confused when I rolled over to snuggle with a David who was just in my imagination and nearly fell completely out of bed onto the cold floor. This 4-day trip will have been the longest we’ve been apart from each other for nearly a year. Needless to say I’m very much looking forward to getting back to him.

10 - Just Call Me Cowgirl

20 June 2010

Eventually Tokkie came home. I think he really enjoys having someone at the house who can take care of things so he can be gone for as long as he wants to be gone. And it doesn’t bother David and I at all to be here on our own. Most days nothing really exciting happens and we have a chance to relax. Occasionally someone interesting will come through the overnight camp and we’ll have some good conversation. Usually we just find things to entertain ourselves.

David finally convinced me to help him saw that big dead tree in half. It didn’t take too long, as he had already cut halfway through it, but it served as a very blunt reminder to me of how out of shape I have become. I run a 3 or 4-mile loop three or four times a week, but other than that I don’t really get any good weight-bearing exercise. The running is really fun out here, though, and David usually comes with me. I often see some wildlife and I always come back feeling refreshed and invigorated. I usually take at least 2 of the 3 dogs with me when I go, mainly for safety reasons, and they have a blast too. They run wide circles around me, jetting off into the bush on the left, circling around in front of me, coming back to my side to check on me, and then hurtling off in the opposite direction. Their energy is astonishing, which I guess is a trait of their breeds (jack russels and fox terriers). The third dog is still a puppy, but he’s growing up quickly. He has come running a few times with me, but by the time we make it back to the house he’s usually pretty blown.

I have tried to commit myself to starting a lifting routine out here, but the weather has just gotten so darn cold that I really just don’t want to move. Sometimes getting out to run takes a huge effort, so I’m not sure how successful I’ll really be in motivating myself to do stretches and lifting exercises. Probably not very.

Anyway, when Tokkie returned from South Africa he brought some extremely exciting news. I sent him an email asking him if he would ask around and see if anyone had a second-hand piano they’d like to sell me. Apparently his friend in Musina (just across the border on the SA side) has a piano laying around his house that he said I could have and use as long as I wanted to for free. So the plan is to go across the border tomorrow to pick it up, along with a few other supplies and things we need, and bring it back here to Threeways. I’m very excited. Life without music is just. . . . flat somehow. Devoid of a whole dimension.

The night before Tokkie returned, we had a little bit of a scare, though. We were sleeping in Tokkie’s room (which we do when he is gone so we can keep an eye on things at the house), and we woke up to the sound of startled chickens next door by the workshop, which is not a very quiet sound. We assumed a civet or serval or something had come and was finding a meal, so we went back to sleep. The next morning we took a walk over there to find out what the commotion had been about and found a very disturbed Mavis. Mavis is the black lady here who is sort of the overseer of the camp staff. She speaks very good English and it was obvious something was not right. She proceeded to tell us how she woke in the middle of the night (she sleeps at the workshop) to the sound of the chickens, and also footsteps outside her window. She opened her curtains a crack to peek out and saw two shady-looking guys standing there smoking. She said they then started throwing rocks around and rummaging through things in the workshop, although they did not take anything. She was certain they had come to kill her.

Whether or not these guys had any murderous intentions, or were just drunk and stumbled into the wrong place I don’t know. But we did arm ourselves and slept lightly that night. David was hoping someone would try to break into the house so he could blast them, but I was certainly grateful that nobody did. We had a long discussion about what did and did not constitute self-defense.

Other than that, things have been fairly normal and nice here. A friend of Tokkie’s from the war by the name of Jan is here with his two sons. They are sort of freelance hunting for wildebeest, as a favor between friends I think. They are nice guys and it’s good to have them here. Tonight the camp is fully booked, and we will be very busy come dinner time.

I have become sort of the madam of the house since Dirkie and Quinn are still away. It is kind of an unspoken expectation that the woman is the one who clears the dishes and presides at meal-times and makes sure everyone has what they need. I don’t mind it most days. It’s kind of like playing house, except for real. But sometimes it does get annoying. It will be nice when Dirkie comes back and takes her job back from me.

David and I have spent the last 2 days getting a really good start on sorting out Tokkie’s cattle. We have the guys round them up in groups of 100 to 150, and then put them through the chute one at a time, documenting what their ear-tags and brands say, what color they are, whether they are pedigree or grade, and trying to correlate that information with what I have gleaned from the helter-skelter records up at the house. There are a lot of discrepancies and I have to keep reminding myself that I can only do my best with what I have at my disposal, nothing more. The real problems come when the brand and the ear tag say two different things, or when the ear tag is missing and the brand was not done well enough to be legible, or when both the brand and the ear tag do not jive with what the paper records say. It is annoying and I’ve resigned myself to the fact that there will be mistakes no matter how hard I try.

Something that actually annoys me more than the messed-up records is the way vaccinations are done. It seems that the cattle guys just sort of sit around and think to themselves “hm. I haven’t jabbed any cows with a needle lately. It must be time to vaccinate them for something.” And then they come to the house and gather up a bunch of bottles of various cattle medicines and set about administering them, seemingly without knowing what exactly they are giving them. And the worst part of it is that Tokkie doesn’t seem to know either, and that there are NO records kept as to what cow is given what medicine/immunization at what time. There’s not even any messed-up records to go off of. Once I have the identification records straightened out as much as I can, the vaccinations are next. There will be no more of this arbitrary sticking. And I am going to do my best to explain the importance of sterilization and cleanliness, and the difference between sub-cutaneous and intra-muscular injections, and why it matters. I probably will just end up more frustrated, but we’ll see what happens. I discussed the matter with Tokkie’s friend Jan, who has a few head of cattle himself. His opinion on the matter was not encouraging. He said that sometimes if something is working reasonably well then it’s best to just leave it, as it just takes too much energy to change to something more organized. We will see about that.

On a different track, David has come up with another money-making scheme, in addition to the chicken-farming, cow-trading, videographing, tilapia-raising, vegetable-selling, second-hand clothing importing, and various other schemes he already has floating around in his head. When we are in South Africa tomorrow he wants to buy some cheap drills and power saws and such to make wooden beads. There is all kinds of beautiful dead hardwood here of all colors and grains, and I think he could be on to something. The beads will have a hand-carved look to them and we plan on pushing the “buy this and you are helping the starving Africans” angle for all it’s worth. In the end there’s not a whole lot of falsehood in that statement anyway. Except, of course, for the starving part.

Also, I’ve worked up my courage enough to actually bring up the subject of writing a book with Tokkie. He thinks it’s a wonderful idea, although I’m not sure he really grasped the fact that I want the book to be based on his life. Will hopefully start putting pen to paper soon. I have this grand sprawling idea in my head of how it will go, and I’ve been a little afraid to actually start it in case it just falls flat. Guess that’s kind of cowardly. We’ll shortly see if I have what it takes.

9 - The Quicksand Phase

Well. . . . . now that it's been 3 weeks since my last update. . . . . I won't bore you all with a detailed recap of everything that's happened since then. Just a general outline. And a recommitment to do this more often.

The Galkas finished up their trip with a few more casualties and headed for the airport. The next group of hunters, a father and retired police man from Houston and his 3 children, followed closely on the Galkas' heels. It was really a pleasure to have them here. The youngest was 11 and so cute, and it was so much fun to have some younger people here to chat with and joke around with. The death toll was low, only a zebra, a vervet monkey and a black mamba, but it was one of the more fun hunts.

The group after them was from Spain, and the original plan was for half the group to go hunt elephant on the Chikwalakwala concession, and the other half to stay at Threeways hunting plains game. David and I were left to man the house while everyone was away in South Africa picking up the Spaniards and more supplies. We got a call from Quinn the day before the hunters were to arrive. He was at the border coming back to Threeways and wanted us to be ready to leave for the concession when he got here. This is what caused me to remember that I had not as yet written another update as I had hoped to. I realized it would be another week before I would be able to catch up with things, and wrote a hasty mass email to everyone letting them know that David and I were still alive and would be updating soon. (I've hit that point in journal-keeping which I like to think of as the quicksand phase. It happens to me nearly every time I re-decide I'm going to keep a record of my life, and most times I just end up staying stuck. This time I'll do my best to drag myself out of the pit and forge on.)

Anyway, we packed up everything we'd need for the next week, loaded up and drove down to the concession with Quinn. We were instructed to set up the camp and have everything ready for the hunters' arrival the next day. By the time we arrived at the camp, however, it was dark and we decided we'd do the setup in the morning. Quinn returned to Threeways to await the arrival of the Spaniards. The weather here is cooling down considerably and it was difficult for me to wrench myself from under the covers early the next day and get moving. There's nothing gradual about the weather here right now. The afternoons are hot enough for shorts and t-shirts, and I break a sweat if I'm doing anything physical. The instant the sun hits the horizon, however, the temperature plunges and if I don't have a sweatshirt nearby I become very cranky. The nights are regularly in the high 30s, low 40s and the mornings are brutal until somewhere between 8:30 and 9:00 when the sun hits a magical height in the sky, and I'm instantly peeling off the layers.

Anyway, we finished setting up the camp by lunch time and were just getting ready to scrounge up some food when Quinn drove in. But he was not attended by any Spaniards, and had not brought any food or supplies as we had planned. He disembarked from his vehicle and announced with a smile that the Spaniards had changed their minds and no longer wanted to split up to hunt elephant. They would rather stay together and hunt plains game at Threeways. I'll admit it was somewhat flabbergasting, and I was a little disappointed that we would not be having any serious action, but there was obviously no use wasting energy being annoyed, so we set to work breaking down the camp we'd just finished setting up. It came down much faster than it went up, and we were on our way back to Threeways. It was not a total waste, as we were able to witness a rare, gorgeous colorful sunset on our way back. Generally the sky here goes from bright blue to black in an astonishingly short time, with only a flush of orange low on the horizon to mark the place the sun vanished. On the rare evening when the air is clear of dust, but there are a few clouds in the west, the scene is totally different, with all the pink, yellow and orange splendor to herald in the twilight. This was one such evening and it was a delight to behold.

There were 5 in the group from Spain. The main man was Jose, and he paid for his 2 body-guards, a friend who was a wildlife specialist, and a translator to accompany him on the trip. I was extremely relieved that there was a translator, as I had been feeling somewhat apprehensive about putting my Spanish skills on display. However, I realized the next day that I was not completely off the hook when Tokkie asked David and I if we would be responsible for guiding the 2 body-guards during their time here. They were extremely tolerant of my butchery of their language, and we generally made do, with surprisingly few misinterpretations. The group had planned to remain at Threeways for a week. However, Jose was not happy with the way things were going. He apparently was not getting enough action, and would rather have more shooting than hunting, so he made a new plan with Tokkie to head down to South Africa where the bush is not so thick and the animals are much more restricted in their movements. If shooting is what he wants, he'll most likely find it there. The body-guards seemed to have had a nice time, though, and tipped us generously for being their guides.

So the whole group took off to South Africa. Quinn and Dirkie were delighted to be left unexpectedly with a free week on their hands, and so they took off to South Africa as well to do some serious planning for their wedding. So David and I are here alone again. Tokkie is due back on Friday, Dirkie and Quinn will be back sometime between the 17th and the 20th. We are getting used to the rhythm of running things over here and have not been caught without the answers as often as before.

David has found a dead tree he wants to make into a table. The only issue is that we do not have a functioning chain saw, and so he has been hacking and sawing at it with hand tools. This may not necessarily be a bad thing, as it occupies him for hours at a time and he does not seem to get bored with it. At the moment he has gone off with one of the guys to take a look at some cattle they want to sell. We've made contact with a man who has agreed to buy all the cows we can get ahold of for a certain price, which happens to be nearly twice the price we would be paying to buy them from the local guys. So it looks like a fair investment of our money, but we'll see how it pans out. I am relaxing at the house today. A repair man has come to fix the walk-in refrigerator here (for the third time) and so I'm keeping watch on the place until he goes. After that I think I will go for a long walk.

Anyway, sorry to be so general and bland this time. Will get my butt out of the quicksand and have a nice story for you all next time I update!

8 - Dangers of Sitting in the Back of a Land Cruiser

18 May 2010

Time here passes slowly and quickly. I cannot believe that we have been here a little over a month. It seems like we were arriving in the Joburg airport just a week ago. But when I think of all the things that have happened and all the fun we’ve had, it seems too much to fit into just a month.

Nothing too huge has happened in the past week, but a few small incidents are worth mentioning. The first happened when we were out with Mr Galka on a game drive. I was sitting on the back bench of the Cruiser with the trackers. When we go for game drives the bench and chairs in the bed of the Cruiser are elevated so that the passengers’ heads are well above the roof of the cab so as to have an unobstructed view of the surrounding bush. It is wonderful to sit there on the back, the wind whipping my hair, the sun on my face and 360 degree views of the life around me.

There are some dangers involved in this kind of seating, though. The bench seats are particularly dangerous, as there is not a whole lot to grab onto to keep oneself upright, especially when the driver overlooks one of the many deep aardvark holes in the road. While sitting on the back bench one must also be constantly wary of low-hanging plant life, often resorting to last-minute duck-and-cover maneuvers to avoid one’s face being scratched off. More than once I have been sitting on the back, totally absorbed by the beauty surrounding me, and been caught unawares by a malicious low-hanging thorn branch. The result is a decidedly ungraceful lurch of my body, arms and legs flailing as my head is wrenched backwards by my hair, a large chunk of which is usually left behind on the offending piece of greenery, waving in the breeze like a spoil of war.

On this particular game drive one of the trackers spotted an impala and called for Tokkie to stop and reverse a short way for Mr Galka to have a better view of it. I had thus far succeeded in avoiding any undesirable encounters of the botanical kind, but this was not to last for long. I was straining my eyes in the direction the tracker was pointing as Tokkie began to reverse slowly. So totally preoccupied was I that I had forgotten about the small branch of curved thorns which I had previously avoided when we were driving forward. I was rudely reminded of it as I felt the claw-like thorns dig into my left ear just as the Cruiser rolled to a stop. My head followed the branch as Tokkie put the Cruiser into first gear, the impala gone. My reaction was to grab the branch with my hand to try to keep it from pulling me completely out of the vehicle, which got me nothing except more pain, this time in the palm of my hand, and if it were not for the quick action of Lazarus the tracker I would probably be less an ear today. He snapped the twig off above my ear just as the Cruiser began to gain some real speed. I was then at my leisure to disengage the thorns from my tender earlobe, feeling somewhat less enchanted with the beauty of the surrounding bush. I am healing well from this little mishap and am glad to report that none of the thorns succeeded in making it all the way through my ear.

Other than that, there has been reports of another problem elephant and three problem buffalo roaming around. It’s difficult to know what to believe when things like this crop up because all the meat from problem animals is up for grabs to whoever happens to hear the gunshot and come running. Free meat is definitely something to lie for, and it puts Threeways in a somewhat awkward position. On the one hand, it is Tokkie’s contractual responsibility to go after any real problem animals to protect the people who live on the concession. If he does not do something about a reported problem animal and someone gets hurt or killed, he could be in a position to lose the hunting rights he has already paid for, no refund. On the other hand, if he goes after every “problem” animal that is reported, not only is he out the money and time and fuel spent to track it down, but he also is potentially taking out an animal which could have been made into money on a hunt. Like everything around here it is a line which must be walked with caution.

Anyway, Tokkie decided that the rumored problem elephant warranted at least an investigation, so the past 2 days have been spent on the concession chasing 2-day old spoor and wild stories. It has made for some wonderful bush walks, but seemed to me to be a massive waste of resources. Although, I suppose in the long run it was better to at least show up and move around in order to avoid conflict and accusations later on. Yesterday we walked through a section of the concession which none of us had ever been to, and was radically different from the other areas we’d rambled on. The trees were tall and green, the land was scattered with small hills, some pure rock, others sandy, still others covered in fertile soil. We followed a small flow of water to its source, a small bubbling spring coming straight up from the sand.

At one point when it had been some time since we’d seen human life we stumbled onto a small shantily-built encampment. There were a few hovels squatting forlornly on the swept dirt, a worm-ridden yellow dog growled lethargically at us, and a little black-and-white cat kept a wary distance. A woman of indeterminate age emerged to talk with the trackers. She wore a knit cap, a filthy t-shirt fashioned into a tank top, and an old bath towel wrapped around her waist. Her face was wrinkled and twisted into a permanent grimace of such character that I could not help taking numerous pictures. She had maybe never seen a camera in her entire life and I found myself wondering if she thought I was as interesting as I found her to be.

When we had moved on, Tokkie confided in me his convictions that this woman and her husband were poaching out there. We had seen more game spoor way out there than we had in other areas of the concession, and the woman and her husband did not seem to be lacking for food.

Dirkie and I have been taking walks together in the evenings, which has been really fun and relaxing. I’ve decided that my volatile first impressions of her must have been clouded by stress or moodiness or something because she is a very sweet girl and I’m finding myself becoming better friends with her every day. She and David and I spent 2 days cutting, spicing, and hanging meat for biltong and jerky. Can’t wait until it’s finished drying, although the changing weather may delay the process a bit. The temperature has dropped significantly from shorts and t-shirt weather to jeans and sweater weather. The drive home from the concession yesterday evening nearly froze my face off.

I’ve spent some time working on Tokkie’s cattle records and now have a better idea of the enormity of the mess and state of disorganization they are in. I anticipate that it’s going to be an ongoing project for the entire remaining 5 months, but I dearly hope it doesn’t take that long. I might lose my mind.

Today Mr Galka is sitting in a blind with Mrs Galka. Their son may or may not be walking around looking for wildebeest. I am not totally sure if he went out or decided to hover around camp for the day. He is very ready to head back home, and that’s putting it lightly. They leave the day after tomorrow, and I honestly think all three of them are very eager for this vacation to be over. For some families 14 days in the bush is just too much.

Otherwise, things are just peachy. David and Tokkie have been scheming up various business plans for us to start over here, everything from cattle and chicken farming to small loans and private schools. And according to David’s mom our India stuff is selling for plenty enough to make it worth our while, so who really knows what we’ll end up doing. We bought a GRE study book and are also thinking of going back to school. Who really knows where we’ll end up. . .

7 - Just Another Day

11 May 2010

Since the elephant hunt, there has not been a whole lot of excitement going on here, with one notable exception: my Quiksilver visor which has been with me through thick and thin for the past 5 years, ever since I found it abandoned on Hukilau beach, has disappeared without a trace. I had it in the morning when I hopped into the Land Cruiser to go out hunting, but when we got to where we were going it was nowhere to be found. I have even offered a reward for whoever finds and brings it back to me, but to no avail. And if that doesn’t work, then probably nothing will. I think I most likely dropped it on the ground somewhere and someone picked it up thinking it had been discarded, as it admittedly looked like a piece of trash. However, it was my favorite hat and there will never be another like it. RIP, old friend.

Other than that, every day has been fairly normal. We begin at around 5:15 am with a good breakfast, and then go our separate ways for the day. Our hunting client enjoys sitting in blinds at water holes, which doesn’t exactly make for great filming, so I often stay at the house and do stuff on the computer during those times. His son, however, enjoys walking and so whenever he goes out with the guys I follow. So far he’s only shot a zebra, but I did get some decent footage out of it. David sometimes goes with me, and sometimes not. Quinn has only partially recovered from being sick and so he has been staying with the vehicle during the day. I have no doubt he’ll be up and walking around very soon, though.

We all reconvene at the camp for lunch, which is often a heavy, greasy affair that generally suits my taste buds just fine but does mean things to my digestive tract. Usually after that we spend a couple of hours lounging and loafing around while the sun passes its zenith and the heat starts to drop off a bit. However, Mr Galke the hunting client is not accustomed to this midday time wasting and is often fidgeting and itching to get back out into the bush again by the time it’s over. He cannot be much less than 70 years of age but the man has an endless wellspring of energy. His talks constantly about anything and everything and never seems tired or worn out. It is an amazing phenomenon and I can only hope that when I’m old I have half the energy this man has.

After our afternoon siesta we go out again, walking or sitting in the blinds. So far the death toll has been 3 impala (although one was never found), 1 warthog, 1 wildebeest, 1 zebra, and 8 francolin (a small partridge/quail-type bird). Today Mr Galke is sitting by a waterhole, and his son is out walking around in search of wildebeest number two. I decided to sleep in today and update my journal, do some more work on Tokkie’s cattle program, and generally loaf around until a productive project comes to mind. I still have to find the perfect spot to hang up our hammock, fix the velcro on some second hand boot covers we’ve been given (it is an awful nuisance walking through the bush with all the pokies and grass seeds getting stuck on your socks and falling into your shoes), study for the GRE and research what kind of graduate school program I’d like to go into (any and all suggestions welcome), edit the latest footage so the Galkes can have a DVD to go home with, the list goes on and on and on. But what’s most likely to happen is that I will sigh, look around me, think that all those things can wait for another day, and go for a nice long walk in the bush.