Tanzania Journal - Day 8:Hippos in the Water; Elephants in the Mud

---

Running Log, 12/31/10 -- 24 minutes in and around Dik Dik Campground

On the last morning of 2010, I awoke from a heavy sleep with the feeling that the world had regained its sense of proportion. The pounding in my head from the previous evening's entertainment had gone away, and everything was quiet and peaceful as the sun came up on another perfect day in the Serengeti.

Rob had described our agenda for the day as a "full-day game drive" through the central Serengeti area known as Seronera. We would discover that our vehicle was one of a hundred others bent on driving for the next twelve hours on the network of dirt roads that infiltrated this popular area. We would all be out there with the same objectve: see as many animals as we could before the sun went down.

We had a leisurely breakfast at Mbuzi Mawe, although nothing was ever completely leisurely with Rob reminding us that we needed to get an early start. After breakfast it took us almost no time to gather our bags and trek down to the parking area and load up the Land Cruiser. It was not yet 9:00 when we left Mbuzi Mawe in search of wildlife.

Our first stop was a bluff overlooking a wide and relatively deep pool formed by one of the shallow streams that ran through the plain. I don't recall the name of this spot, but it was known universally as "the hippo pool," because it was filled with submerged and partially submerged hippos seeking refuge from the sun and the heat of the day. Photographs do not do justice to the odd, understated grandeur of 30-40 enormous creatures packed into no more than a splash of muddy water like animate bowling balls in a bathtub.

Hippos are known to be ill-tempered and extremely dangerous when disturbed, and are responsible for more human deaths in Africa than any other mammal other than man. It was hard to believe that these massive vegetarians who seemed willing to sleep all day in the pool, shifting positions occasionally with loud and comical grunts, were deadly when roaming the land at night. I could have watched them for hours.



After leaving the hippo pool, our journey became more random -- at least that's how it felt to me. Sometimes it seemed that Rob had a definite destination in mind, but sometimes it seemed we were just circling aimlessly, waiting for something to happen or some animal to make an appearance. From time to time we would pull up next to another Land Cruiser coming from where we were heading, and Peter or Rob would exchange news with the driver. I assume they were talking about where the lions were, or the leopards, or the jaguars.

The big cats were very cool, that's for sure, but my favorite animals were the elephants. We were lucky enough to see a huge herd of 100-120 elephants, and spend a good hour in their company when they chose to come our way. Among the herd were babies and adolescents, and they put on a show for us, wallowing and playing in the mud as though they hadn't a care in the world.


Mud, mud, glorious mud -- nothing quite like it for cooling the blood.

Of all the animals we saw, the elephants (and perhaps the baboons) were the only ones who seemed free from the constant anxiety of having to hunt or avoid being hunted. Even so, we had reason to be grateful they were so good-natured, because when they came over to the Land Cruiser, any one of them could have knocked us over with little effort.

---

It was late in the afternoon when we finally drove into the parking area at the Dik Dik campground. It must have been past six o-clock already, and the precious daylight was slipping away quickly. I had packed my running shorts and running shoes in my backpack for easy access, so while the others unloaded their bags, I was off immediately to change and get in that one last run of the year.

The layout of the campground would make this one of the more challenging runs. There were tents everywhere, and to have a running route at all I needed to make my way from the parking area along the edge of the background where it turned into bush, past the latrines and then up an access road that led to a second field, which was also full of tents and people. With a little creativity, I figured out how to make this a loop, of sorts, rather than a back-and-forth, and I set out to get in my requisite 20 minutes.

The first "loop" took about four minutes. As I passed our land cruiser, Rob looked on with amusement and maybe even a little pride. You see that mzungu running? He's OUR mzungu. He exercises every day, even on safari. I wondered what the other campers made of the sight of me gliding past their tents, forward and back, over and over. Surely there were other runners there. Maybe they were a little envious.

After the first loop, Joni fell in step beside me and we ran one circuit of the campground together. She ran in flip flops and civilian clothes, and it was great.



As with all of my short, repetitive, campground runs, it took forever to run the first 10 minutes, and then the next 10 went by quickly and easily. As I passed the 20-minute mark and realized that I had brought my year-long running adventure to a successful conclusion, a very happy, peaceful feeling settled over me. I celebrated with one final loop in the gathering dusk, speeding up as much as I could without terrorizing the other campers, and savoring the moment. It had been a long twelve months.

---

A final note about Dik Dik. Back in 2007 when Joni was traveling in Tanzania with Liz Gleason, they stayed at the same campground, They awoke in the middle of the night to a low growling sound. It was the sound of lions walking slowly through the campground in search of whatever it is lions want at that hour. Joni and her friend lay in their tents in a paroxysm of fear. Eventually after what seemed like a very long time, the lions went away.

Joni wisely chose not to share this story with us until she was safely back in the United States. Still, it has become part of our family history -- we refer to it as the night Joni met the lions -- and we all had it in the back of our mind as we bedded down for the night in the exact same spot.

So you might understand that I was a little apprehensive and edgy as night fell. Returning from the latrine with a flashlight just before turning in for the evening, I met a couple standing on the edge of the campground looking out into the bush. "You can see eyes," they said. Sure enough, when I pointed my flashlight out into the darkness, I could see the unmistakable gleam of yellow eyes staring back at me from perhaps 50-60 yards away. I didn't mention this to Ann until the next morning. I wanted to make sure that at least one of us slept well that night.

NEXT: Lions as Role Models; Lake Nduto