Into Africa Part III: Ulusaba

Our journey from Cape Town to the Ulusaba Private Game Reserve in the Sabi Sand Game Reserve required two flights, one of them onboard a 10-seat, one-propeller plane. Jason and I were a little concerned about vomiting in this small aircraft based on the accounts we’d read of frequent upchuckings. I’m pleased to report no barf bags were needed.

no props for one prop
This plane’s one propeller didn’t inspire confidence.

It is impossible for me to relay the surreality of our experience at Ulusaba. Our plane landed on a private airstrip in the middle of the reserve with the savanna pushing in on all sides. After deplaning, we were loaded into an open-top Land Rover. Coming up the rough path to the lodge in that vehicle, I felt like I was on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland. That sensation only increased as the evening progressed. On our first game ride, Jason and I were awestruck. Within minutes, we met a leopard named Ravenscourt. Yes, all the leopards that roam Ulusaba have names, which seems appropriate since Ravenscourt reminded me of a big house cat. When we came across him, he was sniffing the ground, spraying movie-popcorn-smelling urine, and rolling around in the grass. Just a few minutes later, we encountered a pride of lions comprised of two lionesses, a cub, and the mane papa. They were all lounging in the grass, some on their bellies. Mind blown!

head of the pride
I wouldn’t want to be his dentist.
in awe of the paws
Lion paws feature 1.5-inch claws and can get up to a foot wide.

Afterward, we consumed drinks and snacks while teenagers from the local Shangaan tribe performed dances and drum music for us. I got selected to dance with them. I felt pretty silly trying to shake my legs next to their graceful quaking limbs.

hunters and humans
On a safari, you get disquietingly close to creatures that could kill you.
a herd indulgence
Elephants love the fruit of the marula tree.

Over the next few days, we went on five additional game drives, each involving hours of exploration. Drives are done around 5:30 in the morning and 4:30 in the evening because the animals are most active then. We were incredibly exhausted by the time our three days in the bush were over, since we were only sleeping about five hours every night. Still, we saw less than half of the Sabi Sand Game Reserve. Here’s a bit of what we encountered during each of these amazing outings:

Morning

  • Golden orb spider, an arachnid that gets up to a couple inches in size
  • Giraffes, right outside the lodge
  • Zebras, including a week-old baby
  • Wildebeests, hanging with the zebras
  • A herd of 12 elephants, consisting of females, youngsters, and babies
  • A spotted hyena
  • Bee-eaters, colorful birds that really do eat bees
  • Vultures
  • Weaverbirds
  • A hippo, popped out of a pool we didn’t even notice
  • Impalas, a successful (AKA common) species
  • Fungus-growing termites, our guide ate one
  • A terrapin, a freshwater tortoise

Evening

  • A female leopard, named Kelly Dam
  • Ravenscourt the leopard, stalking impalas
  • A side-striped jackal, a reclusive species most don’t get to see
  • A cape buffalo

Morning

  • A bush walk, covered below
  • A hyena den with cubs
  • Warthogs

Evening

  • Lions, one of them bellowing a 50%-strength roar that vibrated our vehicle
  • Waterbucks

Morning

  • Hippos
  • A crocodile
  • Kudus

You may notice that rhinos, one of the Big Five, are not listed above. I will not discuss rhino sightings in this post. The danger of poaching is too high to make any mention of them online. We may or may not have seen some. If you are interested in that topic, talk to me in person.

a banded baby
This foal was roughly a week old.

As I mentioned above, one morning we went on a bush walk. A bush walk, as its name implies, entails getting out of your vehicle and walking through the bush. Your ranger carries a gun across his chest with very big bullets. It isn’t loaded; it’s really just there to make you feel better about wandering around where you could get eaten not to prevent you from being said feast. Although a bit unnerving, a bush walk is a great way to observe details you miss when you are in a vehicle. We came across dung beetles rolling butt muck, which was surprisingly cool. We saw ink mushrooms, rhinoceros beetles, millipedes a foot long, and some poisonous African butterflies. While we were walking about, our guide took the opportunity to spit some poo. Yes, locals chuck impala droppings competitively in what translates to “butt poo spitting” contests. It was gross and amusing.

Ravenscourt
Leopards are supposed to be solitary and secretive. Ravenscourt was not.
Kelly Dam
This female leopard, Kelly Dam, was much more timid around people.

The game drives were incredible, but it’s hard to adequately describe the wilds of Africa. My perspective has changed dramatically from visiting Sabi Sand. Seeing it in person, you understand the harshness and fragility of this environment. The animals aren’t anything like zoo dwellers. Even the lions we saw, the so-called kings of the savanna, looked like life had been hard on them. Although all part of the same ecosystem and close in proximity to each other, each species had its own habits and social structures. Seeing how all the pieces fit into the system was fascinating. Incidentally, the leopards were one of the few exceptions to the general dinginess. They appeared pristine, like something you’d want to pet… as long as you didn’t mind losing a hand.

uppity cuisine
Ravenscourt killed this impala in the middle of the night and pulled it up a tree to keep the hyenas and lions from snacking on it.

Since survival in such an unforgiving environment is difficult, pretty much everything in the savanna wants to hurt you, even the plants. Thorns the size of fingers protrude menacingly from many trees and bushes. And if the vegetation doesn’t bite you, the ticks on it will. Ticks are everywhere- on animals, on grasses, on the side of the road. We even found one in our vehicle. Many creatures have legions of these leeches on them. We managed to not get bitten by these suckers, so no African tick-bite fever for us!

a colorful bee-eater
Bee-eaters catch insects like wasps and bees in flight.

Between gawking at animals and gawking at the food we were stuffing in our mouths, we fit in a community tour one afternoon. It was interesting and rewarding to see the village that has a symbiotic relationship with Ulusaba. As part of the tour, we visited a school. The kids were cute and a little overwhelming. They wanted to be held, touch our light hair, and play with any technological devices we carried. We basically got smothered by this darling throng.

lethargic felines
I learned that lions sleep a lot.

Speaking of Ulusaba, allow me to share a few more details about the reserve. The Ulusaba Private Game Reserve was established over 30 years ago. Because it takes decades for wildlife in a reserve to become “relaxed” around humans, animals in new reserves behave a lot more skittish and unpredictable. Those in Ulusaba were definitely relaxed; they seemed to view our presence as inconsequential. Of course, that doesn’t mean we were invisible to them. Ravenscourt, the leopard, looked right at me on multiple occasions.

a savanna sunrise
I could get used to sunrises like this.

Most of our meals at Ulusaba, and there were a lot of them, were eaten outside. During our evening banquets, our fancy table would be littered with beetles attracted to the warm lantern light. Our last night, we ate dinner out in the bush under a giant marula tree. A massive bonfire burned, African music filled the air, and a different set of stars twinkled down on us. It was kind of unbelievable.

Keep the ball rolling!
Dung beetles can roll up to 10 times their bodyweight.
a leggy creep
This foot-long millipede defends itself by secreting a poisonous cyanide-containing compound.

Even though Ulusaba is quite posh, it is still in the middle of a wild landscape. Sometimes that landscape makes itself at home. A lizard dropped on Jason’s head while he was in our room. Monkeys came by our lodge one afternoon, cased the joint, and tried to get in. I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and found a giant wood spider flattened against the wall right next to the switch I had just flipped on. I left that light on when I went back to bed… purely for aesthetic reasons of course.

misty glee
It rained nearly nonstop during our last drive. Fortunately, Ulusaba provided heavy-duty ponchos that kept us relatively dry.

Although a completely foreign environment, the staff made us feel at ease at Ulusaba. I’ll admit, I cried a tear or two saying goodbye and getting on our plane. I haven’t teared up leaving a vacation spot pretty much ever.

Predator prejudice?
Hyenas are actually smarter than primates when it comes to cooperative problem-solving.

I’ve rambled enough for one sitting, but I do have some safari tips I will touch on in an upcoming post. Since our trip back to Amsterdam was a beast, and I’ve covered enough animals already this time, that will be the subject for another week as well.

Into Africa Part II: Cape Town

After a 12-hour flight from Amsterdam, we arrived in South Africa at nearly midnight. My first impression of South Africa? The air smelled different, earthy and humid. It was a rejuvenating change from the winter we’d left.

all awake
Unlike the Domtoren, we didn’t climb these stairs in a semiconscious state.
getting to the Point
The views slowed our pace on the two-mile hike around Cape Point.

We only had a couple days to explore Cape Town, so we packed in the sights tightly. We spent our first day with a group of Jason’s coworkers and their spouses exploring the Cape of Good Hope and Simon’s Town. At the Cape of Good Hope, Africa’s most southwestern spot, we stood on the edge of the continent surrounded by craggy splendor. We hiked to Cape Point, a dramatic cliff topped by the Cape Point Lighthouse and cuffed by the ocean. While the area was crowded with tourists, the agitated water and battered slopes still gave a sense of the tempestuousness of this wild headland. The wily chacma baboons thieving items from sightseers added another layer of unpredictability to the setting.

It's a sign!
Since we had just come from Amsterdam, we found this signpost at the Cape Point Lighthouse amusing.

In Simon’s Town, we visited the 2,000 African penguins that call Boulders Beach home. Yes, Africa has penguins; they are probably called African penguins for that reason. I didn’t let those waddling waiters have all the fun at Boulders. I splashed into the Indian Ocean in that sheltered cove too. Well, I thought I did. As it turns out, the Atlantic and Indian Oceans meet without much fanfare at Cape Aghulas not Cape Point. Most of the Cape Town locals don’t even have that straight. Yup, I just waded unwittingly into the exotic Atlantic.

Cape Point Lighthouse
The Cape Point Lighthouse rests precariously on a cliff about 800 feet above the turbulent ocean.
Cape Point
Cape Point may not technically be the southernmost tip of Africa, but it certainly felt that way.

The next day, a group of the spouses sought the top of Table Mountain while our significant others put in some work hours. Table Mountain is an oddity among peaks. Its nearly-flat crest extends for two miles. It forms an unmistakable backdrop to Cape Town’s cityscape.

Boulders' birds
African penguins only live in southern Africa and are endangered.
a fair-weather fowl
The thought of penguins doesn’t usually conjure up images of Africa, but perhaps it should.
a bogus ass
The African penguin is also called the jackass penguin due to its habit of braying.

That morning was gloriously clear, so the view-hungry tourists swarmed the Table. We waited about 45 minutes in the queue for the tram to the top. Although I expected Table Mountain to be level, I was surprised by how far its flatness stretched. Its summit wasn’t just scenic though, it was uncomfortably warm. My feet decided this heat was their cue to expand further. Did I mention that my feet swelled up as soon as I crossed into the Southern Hemisphere? They remained bloated until they arrived back on their own side of the planet. Then, they magically deflated. Is that a regular thing? Or are my feet just melodramatic homebodies?

on Table Mountain
Table Mountain rises 3,500 feet above the peninsula.

After Table Mountain, we had just enough time before dinner to see a bit of the Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden and stop in the Bo-Kaap district. The Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden is widely regarded as one of the best in the world, not only because Table Mountain cooperatively postures behind it but also because it features the wealth of plants unique to the Western Cape. Our pause in Bo-Kaap was brief but gave us time to snap some vibrant shots. Bo-Kaap’s colorful streets seemed a little worn between the weight of visitors and the hardships of residents.

Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden
The Western Cape is home to over 2,200 indigenous species. The Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden is a beautiful place to appreciate some of these.

Thus, our quick interlude in Cape Town ended. The following day, we were off to Sabi Sand Game Reserve by way of a couple flights and one propeller. I will cover that surreal experience next week.

Being Flakey

Sometime after it stops snowing each year, I recount all our snowboarding escapades. But did it ever start snowing last season? Now, with the 130 inches of the 2018-2019 season softening the disappointment of 2017-2018, let us remember the pitiful powder that came before.

Waiting for snow during Utah’s last ski season was like waiting for a snail to complete an Ironman. Jason and I hit the slopes for the first time near the end of January on a base of only 59 inches. Pathetic. A storm had just dropped about 10 inches on Brighton, so we took advantage of those meager flecks. It hadn’t snowed enough to bring in the crowds, but it was enough powder to make the mountain agreeable.

perfectly acceptable
Our second day on the slopes was entirely adequate.

We didn’t go out in February. There were a couple decent storms during that month, but it was always ungodly windy during and after them. When we went again in mid-March the base depth was only 68 inches. Although there was no new fluff, the pleasant 40-something weather pulled in the snow-starved crowds. We had to vulture to find a parking spot in Brighton’s lot. The snow was peppy despite being ancient; it was forgiving and fast.

lift drench
It’s a strange sensation having streams of frigid water run down your snow pants and pool in your boots.

Near the beginning of April, we ventured to Brighton again. Even though we went on a Saturday, the resort was the deadest we’ve ever seen it. The chair lifts were mostly empty. Why you ask? Rain. Not just a few drops here and there but a complete downpour that didn’t let up for hours. The showers only transformed into flakes above about 10,0000 feet, close to the top of the mountain. We boarded approximately an hour and 45 minutes, our shortest stay on the slopes ever. We got drenched in that little span of time. Our gloves were so soaked on the inside that they felt like dumbbells. They had to be dried out using hair dryers over a series of days. We had rivulets streaming down our legs into our boots and finished with sopping crotches. The rain-topped snow behaved odd. It was slow and sticky in spots at the top and extremely slushy at the bottom. The ground made slurping noises as we slid across it like your annoying coworker probing for the last dribbles of his Big Gulp. The bizarreness of the situation gave us a good laugh though, and we loved having the mountain all to ourselves.

A snow crow?
Jason called this pose the “soggy scarecrow.”

The last day we boarded was the closing day of the season. We have to get at least one good day of spring boarding in every year, and this was it. The weather was perfect, in the mid-50s with plenty of sunshine. The parking lot was completely full, but the slopes didn’t have many people on them. Party in the parking lot? Around 3:30, half an hour before closing, the Snake Creek lift lines expanded more than we have ever seen, but no one was on the runs. Apparently, all those folks were trying to reach some celebration at the top. I was trying to reach some snow at the top. It was a nice day to end the season on.

heaps of sunshine
Heaps of snow can be replaced by heaps of sunshine in the recipe for a delicious boarding day.

Chione was displeased by our sporadic visits to her wintery shrine during the 2017-2018 season. Only going boarding four times is shameful and the least amount we’ve done in probably a decade. Fortunately, the current season has got the powder power that 2017-2018 lacked. I will cover that another time, hopefully less than a year from now.