Gorillas in the Bush
Once again, sleep was fleeting and the 5:30 AM alarm came a mere two hours after I finally dozed off. We had a quick breakfast and then found Anderson waiting for us. Once the hotel staff outfitted us in gaiters (needed for the ferocious stinging nettle plants and even more ferocious fire ants), we were off for the 20 minute drive to Volcanoes National Park.
Up until this point on the ground, the only obvious tourists we had seen were at our hotel, once at the park though, it was teeming with them. There were probably fifty safari-style land rovers parked in the lot and tourists hustling and bustling about. Gorilla trekking is Rwanda’s bread and butter as far as tourism goes and it was obvious that the ebola outbreak just across the border had not scared very many of them off.
There are about 21 gorilla families that can be viewed by tourists. Each family can have eight people total trek to see them for one hour of viewing per day. You can request an easy, medium or hard trek; a family with lots of babies or multiple silverbacks; or families that are located either close to park headquarters or an adventurous 1:30 away. We didn’t preface except to say that the closer the better because we had to drive back to Kigali afterwards – a roughly three hour drive.
We were assigned the Izuba family – Izuba means sun. We were told it had one silverback and three infants. The rest of our trekking group was formed with a young couple of Brooklyn, two lady friends from Spain (though Dutch and French Belgian by birth), and one guy from Portugal. Our guide Patrick went over the rules-most important not to run if a silverback charges you and it is OK to make contact but don’t get in a staring contest.
Anderson drove us to the start of the hike and assured us he’d be waiting there for us upon the return. We each hired a porter, more to employ some local folks than out of necessity but it was nice to have someone carry my pack that was heavy with water. We were each given a walking stick and then sent on our anxious ways.
Our hike started with a relatively flat walk through potato fields full of farmers and children who would come running to say “hello” when they saw us. From there we crossed the rock wall which designators the park’s boundary and we started to climb from the 8500’ or so we were at.
The scenery was incredible- we even had the full “Gorillas in the Mist” cinematography going on. The elevation kicked in quickly and it was rapidly obvious that the Portuguese guy was not physically as capable as the rest of the group for the climb. Our pace slowed rapidly once Patrick moved “Bruno” in the front and though it made the ascent less painful it also ran the clock hands.
The good news was it hadn’t rained for days because the bit of soil that was still holding moisture from the last downpours was a shoe-sucking sludge. I can’t imagine what it would be like if it was really wet.
My porter, Fidel, was wonderful, if not a bit overzealous. He held my hand, literally pulling me up the mountain, sometimes so vigorously I couldn’t see where to place my next step in the thick understory.
I had read about the rarity of seeing other jungles animals – elephants and mountain buffalo to be exact, while trekking; and back at the briefing it was a very quick topic of conversation only to explain why we would meet up with a ranger “holding a banjo” (AKA an AK-47) but I was a bit surprised when we came to a dead stop and heard Patrick in a hushed voice say, “Elephants!” Up ahead there was a heard of elephants, at least six that we could see, foraging in the bushes ahead. We were standing at a fork where two trails split-One trail clearly led down into the low Valley where the elephants were, the other leading up the mountain in the other direction. Billy turned to the man with the banjo and asked, “Well which trail are we supposed to take? I hope it’s not that one,” pointing towards the elephants. The man with the banjo smiled and said, “it is…”
It was not safe to try and move past them so we had no choice but to turn around. As we moved further from where the trackers were watching the gorillas, we lost total radio contact with them. We made it to a clearing where we stopped and waited while Patrick sent a few of the porters ahead with the ranger while we waited and waited and waited. Eventually we heard them hollering that they had found the trackers. Up we went passed fresh buffalo scat, through wicked stinging nettle- taking one to the wrist – and right towards the Congo border…
By the time we reached the trackers, the Gorillas were thick in the bush, like really thick. We had a few glimpses of the silverback while the team worked at hacking us a path in. The terrain was steep and the bushes impenetrable. It was determined we should go back the way we came and try to go around. Back through the fire ants, so back through the stinging nettle, back through the ankle grabbing vines we went..
Once back up on top of the hill Patrick said the Gorillas were right there in the bushes in their nest. We were told to leave our packs behind, put on our face masks and to remember the rules.
My first glimpse of these magnificent creatures immediately created a response I wasn’t quite expecting. Tears started streaming down my face as I sat and watched an infant with its mother. Jenny came and crouched down next to me as we marveled at these magnificent beasts.
Meanwhile, Patrick had gone around the other side to try to hack through more bushes to where the silverback was, which clearly angered him as he came wailing and charging through the understory so fast it might as well have been an open field. Jenny jumped up, and I grabbed her pantsleg and told her, “Do not run.”
She told me afterwards her heart was pounding and asked me if I had been scared too. Funny thing was, I wasn’t the least bit, even though it was a rather intense moment.
Unfortunately the silverback stayed back in the thicket to the point he was barely visible but I was able to see him breaking bamboo like it was matchsticks. The size of his hands was incredible.
The two mothers laid down with their babies and a third came walking past us. less than a foot from me.
We hadn’t realized that there was a newborn there- apparently only three weeks old until it popped its head up!
The viewing was challenging as there was only a small opening to see in to their nest so we kept switching positions for everyone to get a chance to see. The hour went by too fast but it was one of the most magical moments of my life to be mere feet from these gentle giants who are so human like with their expressive eyes.
The hike down was pretty easy especially with Fidel dragging me now down the mountain. The effects of the stinging nettle began to take hold and I was glad it was only my wrist that got hit.
We were lucky that we saw some golden monkeys on the trek back. These primates are also endangered and are another of the creatures people come to Rwanda to trek.
When we got back to the trailhead Anderson was there waiting for us. We headed straight back to the hotel to grab our stuff and drop our shoes with the staff to be cleaned up only to be returned to us thirty minutes later looking like they did before we headed out on the trek!
We had a three hour drive back to Kigali and by the time we arrived we were pooped!
The Basketball Africa League Players were staying at the hotel as well which was pretty cool. It turned out Jenny had also got a stinging nettle, hers in her elbow, and both of us were feeling the full effects of the shock like tingling- a pretty strange sensation.
The day today was beyond amazing – a dream come true for me; an amazing experience for the three of us. I would return in a heartbeat to this beautiful country, with friendly people, and the gentlest of giants. I am so happy we made the decision to go.
Wandering Amerrickans 