The Awesomeness of a Morning Bush Walk (KNP 4)

Out in the wildness of the bush

Probably one of the most amazing things one can do in the Kruger National Park is to go on an early morning bushwalk. Admittedly this means rousing oneself at the ungodly hour of 04h30 in order to meet the guide at 05h15 and then facing an incredibly freezing drive in an open Landrover to the walking spot. Given it’s winter, temperatures are a bit extreme – down to about 2 degrees in the early morning (never mind the windchill factor), and up to over 30 degrees come midday.

We walked with two rangers, Ewoudt and Hubert – both armed with rifles carrying ammunition that would genuinely have floored an elephant with one shot. This is the bush, it is dangerous and although no one would ever want to do it, sometimes needs must.

Bush trekking

We started our walk in the chilly morning air under an indigo sky. The sun was only just stretching and casting a pink-purple hue over the golden landscape as we walked. Colours are startling in the bush – vibrant, rugged and mesmerizing. The sun, a fiery red orb, finally rose behind the bare outstretched arms of the Jackalberry and Marula trees, warning of the heat to still come.

Purple sky

Fiery sunrise

Beautiful sunrise aside, it has to be admitted that the ten humans tramping through the veld were probably one of the least pretty and more rowdy sights that morning. Human voices – and smells - are out of place in the bush. Silence is key, but the dry grass as it scrunched underfoot made keeping quiet extremely difficult.

As we advanced through the savannah, Ewoudt, the primary ranger, motioned us to stop and be still. Our eyes scanned the bushveld. Somewhere, lurking amidst the khaki and the gold was something large and grey. An elephant? No – the beast that lumbered into view was the archetypal armoured tank, a white rhino. Huge beast. Short-sighted and not at all keen on humans. We crept forward as the beast hulked between the bushes. We were downwind of him so he could smell us, if not see us. His twitchy little ears waggled back and forth and he looked increasingly unsettled. Then with a mighty snort he was off, moving with remarkable grace for one so huge (males weigh between 2040 – 2260 kgs) and disappeared down a hill.

Mr Rhinocerous, short-sighted and shy

We tramped on, crossing an open scrubby plain – and coming across the remains of a wildebeest and then an impala. By the time the lions, hyenas and vultures have had their fill there is very little left of the poor beast that once was. The skull and horns are all that remain. Everything else is crunched and munched – the hyenas being keen on the bones, while the Bateleur Eagles relish eyeballs. Nothing goes to waste.

Wildebeest horns - not much left

Impala horns, even less left

Eventually we reached a dried out riverbed. The Kruger Park falls in a summer rainfall area so in winter waterholes and rivers dry up. As we trudged across the sand we saw a troop of baboons scatter from the riverine scrub, shrieking and barking as they loped away. Next a herd of impala appeared and scattered swiftly in agile leaps and bounds. Ewoudt picked up a handful of sand and let it fall, checking the direction of the wind. We were in a good position, upwind of whatever might emerge from the trees. Again, he motioned us to be silent and led us forward as two elephants appeared from the trees at the river’s edge. We stood maybe 200 m from them as they tore at branches and stripped leaves. Awesome. Amazing. Words cannot do the experience justice.

Ellies arrive at the edge of the riverbed...

...and move toward rich pickings

I see you...

Breakfast

A sudden, gruff cough made me lift my head. It was a sound I’ve heard in other bush twice before. Ewoudt nodded. “Leopard,” he murmured.

We moved on, and clambering up a granite outcrop we stopped for a snack, our voices ringing out, incompatible with the bush, carrying over the miles, probably scaring every animal away.

Snacks devoured, we headed back towards the Landrover, pausing to examine a rhino midden. They’re latrine animals and a male rhino will use between 20 – 30 middens to mark out his territory, kicking up the dung to spread it about. A low growl in the distance told us lions were afoot and sure enough, a large paw print in the sand proved the point.

Rhino midden - though this is probably the dung of a female, left at the edge of the dominant male's midden

My what big feet you have, Mr Lion...

Ewoudt told us that two days before whilst out walking with another group, they’d come across a lion and two cubs. They paused to watch, marveling at the sight – and totally unaware that the rest of the pride had gathered and were circling around them, locking the group in. As Hubert, the other ranger said, “It was an exciting moment!”

My words and images can’t possibly do justice to the experience and so all I would say is, if you ever get the experience to visit a game park that does early morning walks, do it. There is nothing so awesome, nothing that quite puts you so in touch with wild nature as actually walking in it, being part of it, respecting the magnificence. And scared? No, not for one moment, it was just all too amazing. I’d take my chances in wild nature any day – it’s safer, I’ve no doubt, than walking on the streets of Cape Town or Johannesburg.

Winter riverbed