I was going camping for the first time in my life. In fact, I was sleeping in a tent for the first time in my life. Well, technically, it was my second time sleeping in a tent. One day last year, James and Bobby were told to set up the big army tent in the Wright’s yard. Not entirely sure why. But anyway, after they set the whole thing up, they didn’t feel like taking it right down again, and we didn’t feel like letting all that lovely tent space go to waste, and since it happened to be Mary’s birthday, we had a sleepover. Yes, we really roughed it. Anna, Mary, Kipsy and I dragged mattresses, pillows and flashlights out into the yard and had an awesome time. We told ghost stories and freaked each other out with hypotheses of snakes crawling in through the gap at the bottom of the zipper on the tent flap…and woke up early the next morning to the smell of scrambled eggs wafting out of the kitchen window about a foot away…
So I was going camping for the first time in my life. And what better place to start, than in the Kidepo Valley National Park, surrounded by potentially vicious wild animals.
When we got to the park, we went to the ranger station and were joined by Benard the ranger. His purpose of coming with us was to show us animals, and help us dumb American tourists build the fires and to remind us not to feed the lions. But everyone knew that really he was just being the person with a gun for the mental security of anyone who might potentially freak.
The camp site was up on the top of a short little knoll, hardly big enough to call itself a hill. On the western side, we were walled in by a crag but to the east the land flattened out and dropped like a stairway into the valley. Along each “step” there was a clump of rocks and trees, sort of like those lip-things people put on stairs to make sure you don’t accidently wear the wrong socks, slip, and break your leg. Don’t worry, no body fell off a cliff or anything. But if they did, it’s not like they could claim it was camouflaged… Anyway, it was beside one of these “oases” that Rach, Anna and I set up or little orange two-man tent. It was pretty sweet. Seriously, all we needed was a dog, a pair of spankin clean hiking boots, and a river in the back ground and it was basically a picture out of an L.L. Bean catalogue.
The ever-helpful Ben assisted us in building a fire and we ate dinner as the orange glow of the flames replaced the deeper orange of the setting sun. By and by weariness from the journey stemmed the flow of excited conversation and people began to turn in. Pretty soon, Bobby, James, Anna and I were the only ones left. We huddled close to the fire as the coolness of the African night settled around us. My nose was chilled to the cartilage. I’d forgotten how cold it could get when you’re not sleeping under a metal roof that takes a long time in cooling down. Even with sweatpants, a hoodie and an uber-insulated sleeping bag that crinkles like a bag of potato chips at the slightest movement, I could not get warm when I went to bed that night. I woke up the next morning sore from having shivered myself to sleep. Not the usual cause of soreness on a camping trip, I’m told…
After a quick breakfast we hopped in the cars and set off into the sunrise in search of some animals. I really wanted to see some cats. I had only ever seen two lions in the wild before, one was shy and wouldn’t come out of the grass, the other was depressed or something because it didn’t even lift its head to look at us. I guess visiting enthusiastic lions could potentially end badly. But the way I see it, you only get to live once (and die once), so why not make a good story out of it? Maybe not the smartest mindset to live with, but it definitely adds a happy note to every situation.
We were rounding the edge of a shallow canyon when we saw them below us: at least half a dozen lionesses wandering lazily through the brush. We stopped the car safely at the top of the ridge and watched. Either they were strangely restless lions or lionesses in general can’t really make up their minds about anything. One minute they would be lying in the grass, chins on paws sleeping quietly, then they would roll over in the grass, swish their tails and lie belly-up for a while. Then suddenly they would leap to their feet and pace back and forth from one lion the other before choosing a different place to lie down and clean themselves. They totally reminded me of our cat, Carmen, at home. Just, a lot bigger. Ignoring the fact that their species is kind of famous for eating people, they were totally adorable! After a while they disappeared behind a clump of bushes and we kept going.
We had not driven for five minutes when we found the male lions. And this time, they were not safely at the bottom of a canyon. There they were, probably the two biggest lions on the planet sleeping peacefully by the side of the road. Under Ben’s careful direction, the car was driven seriously within ten feet of the beasts and the engines were switched off. The lions raised their majestic heads and turned to look at us, but other than that did not move. We didn’t move either. I can’t speak for the others but I was definitely scared out of my flip flops. Not scared in a hide-your-face-and-faint-dead-away kind of way but in a this-would-be-the-most-legendary-way-to-die-ever kind of way. And like I said, they were BIG. Like if Hobbes had a mullet and Mr. Wright was as tall as Calvin. Like that.
We sat there on top of the car, watching the lions in awe. The bigger of the two yawned, white teeth gleaming bright as they were big. Captivated, I didn’t even notice the three others who lay just beyond their friends. They all seemed not to mind our presence. Ben said it was because they were not afraid of the vehicles. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.
After at least half an hour, the smaller of the two stars stood and suddenly he didn’t seem that much smaller. He stretched and then walked slowly down the gentle slope to a barely muddy riverbed. The others stood one by one and followed suit.
We continued, though I confess, all the animals we saw after that seemed kind of lame. And there were A LOT of them. Herds of elephants, giraffes and zebra dotted the whole valley. The buffalo and hartebeest moved in herds so large, passing them was like trying to cross the red sea before God parted the waters. Warthogs were EVERYWHERE. Boy, are those things ugly. Even the small ones are hideous, though when you see any abnormally small animal, it automatically gains the cute title.
All in all, it was a very good day. That night, wrapped up in a Doritos bag that was supposed to be my sleeping bag, I dreamt of lions. Like the old man in the Old Man and the Sea did. They were opening their mouths to yawn. And then I heard an unfamiliar sound, like a strangely nasal and sporadic generator.
Rach sat up.
“Did you hear that?”
