Happy Valentine's Week

Not bad focus, just blowing snow

Happy Valentine's Day--Abraham Lincoln's Birthday--Martin Luther King's Birthday!  The picture of the mountains "pinkening" in the early morning as the sun rises seems like a good symbol for the week.  We hope you have had some fine celebrations wherever you are.

Now the plowing is all mine.  No pictures from the first day, as I was sweating bullets and trying hard not to do anything horrible to:  the Jeep, the plow, or the road.  Honestly, I did get stuck a couple of times and was able to maneuver out of my messes…no harm, no foul.  After two hours I returned home safe and sound.  I laughed to myself as I drove our Jeep over to Lee and Mare's…switching for theirs with a plow.  When we left for Uganda and Rwanda last August, the weather was warm and I had anticipated a good deal more of that when we returned.  No rush to put the top on the Jeep.  We returned to the flood and all of its disaster, and putting the top on our Jeep was certainly not on my radar.  With the wind blowing and snow everywhere, I had a whimsical ride to Lee and Mare's, topless!  Fortunately it only takes about 4 minutes to get there.  Mountain Fun.

At the beginning of the week, the temperatures were still very cold.  The birds have discovered that there is food here, and we have been visited by several of our favorite species, I even spotted a robin in the bushes below the house. One morning while I was refilling the tube feeder, I looked down and discovered that the deer were browsing in the spilled seeds.  There is always a lot of seed on the ground as the bigger birds, especially Stellar Jays and Clark's Nutcracker are notorious pigs, gobbling mouths full and spraying seed everywhere.

By Tuesday, the wind really kicked up.  That night, to celebrate birthdays for Lee and me, Pam cooked a wonderful dinner.  We had roasted potatoes and carrots coated in corn meal and parmesan cheese,  fillets done in a pan with a wonderful red wine sauce--all finished in butter, and cheese cake for dessert.  Our actual birthdays were on Wednesday, but Thursday was to be a traveling day for L & M, so we thought to drink and celebrate the night before.  The next day, Wednesday I made a batch of chicken soup and we slurped and laughed as the wind really began to roar outside.  At 3:00 am Thursday, Lee and Mare left for 6 weeks in Florida.

Plowing the drifting, sifting snow got tricky as the temperatures rose to 35, 39, and up into the 40's.  Snow melted in the day, froze in the night, and was a clumped and clotted nightmare to plow in the morning.  As I was coming out Friday morning, I found our neighbor in his red Arctic Cat ATV at the top of our driveway--his left front wheel canted at about a 45 degree angle.  "These snow chunks are hard to get through.  I think I'm in a bit of trouble here."  We managed to get the plow off and stashed in our drive, and as Brad backed up, the wheel "healed itself" enough to drive home.  Later on he was able to fix it and Big Red is back on the job.

After a Valentine's celebration at home, we met a friend for coffee in town and had a great catch up.  Afterwards, Pam, Lucy and I drove into the Park, only to find the wind was blowing a gale there as well (yes, we've been sleeping downstairs). We got out for a short walk on Upper Beaver Meadows road--the only place dogs can walk in the Park.  Lucy was delighted to be out--rolling in the snow, running and chasing as far as her leash would allow, and sniffing everything she could.  After the walk, we drove up to Bear Lake where we work in the summer.  It always amazes us how many people hike, ski, snowshoe out of Bear at any time of year.  Today was no exception.  We put on our cleats and walked out to the lake--frozen and blowing.  There have been 75 inches of snow at Bear, the pictures are testimony.

Now, with the wind still blowing a gale sporadically, and temperatures in the 40's, we are snug in our mountain home.  There is a bit of plowing to do, books to finish, and more Olympic competitions on the horizon.  A big shout out to Jason Brown!  No medal, but he has certainly won hearts all over the world.  And so it goes…have a good week.  Check back again for more mountain adventures.  We think of our friends and family always and wish you a good week.

Here is the link to pictures from the week.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/12529561554/in/set-72157640987153305

Gee, It's Good to be Back Home Again...

Borrowing a line from John Denver, we are indeed happy to be back in the mountains.  It has been quite an experience for us, as we left in September a week after the 1,000 year flood had wreaked its damage, and left our Little Valley broken, battered, and almost stranded for lack of a road.  

Getting ready to come back here, we were stunned to realize what a terrible job of packing we did when we left.  Just returned from a two week trip to Uganda and Rwanda, me with a broken wrist, and our town and all roads a shambles, I think we were so grateful to get our vehicle out, we didn't pay much attention to what we were doing.  When winter arrived in Illinois, we found that much of our winter duds were still in Colorado.  Last week, when we opened our duffles to pack for our trip west, we were shocked to find that we never unpacked such unnecessary items for the midwest as:  safari pants, binoculars, hiking poles, collapsible water bottles, travel meds and a first aid kit, and more.  We were both under the impression that we left our travel clothes and other Africa accouterments with our friend Nancye Nelson in Arvada, Colorado.  

At any rate, we packed up and headed out at noon on Friday, February 1… just ahead of the next snow storm to hit Illinois.  By the time we stopped for the night in Lincoln Nebraska, Illinois already had six inches of new snow.  Getting up early the next morning, we drove out of snow in about 2 hours and arrived home just after noon.  As we drove up the Big Thompson Canyon the devastation left by flood waters was heart breaking.  Although much of it was hidden under snow, what we saw was stunning:  homes half hanging out over the river, parts of homes broken away, huge pine trees ripped up and tumbled into the riverbed, and half a mountain avalanched away piling huge boulders, trees, rocks, and soil below.  The very road we were driving on had been hacked and cut by the Big Thompson River.  The last pictures we saw showed huge canyons in the road bed that were two or three football fields long.  Now, we hummed along on a snow packed road, one lane in spots, but not noticeably different from any other February return.  The work that has been done, HUGE!

We turned, as usual, onto Fish Creek Road to travel the three miles to where it passes Little Valley Road.  Fish Creek destroyed the road that carries its name.  When last we saw this road, there were  huge canyons with water roaring over and through them.  Culverts, trees, asphalt chunks, cables, and buried (no longer) wires were twisted, wrapped together, ripped apart and thrown willy nilly.  Again, the road was a bit rough as it has been filled, not repaved yet, but it was passable.  When we reached Little Valley Road, we turned up onto a newly constructed bridge.  When we left in September, this bridge was broken beyond repair and water raged through the space it had spanned.  A temporary bridge had been built about a half mile upstream.  The condition of our Little Valley Road is a testament to a community, neighbors, and a town fully functioning in crisis.  Lee told us how our road guy had arranged for 8 huge dump trucks to work 8 hours a day in conga-line fashion to bring in boulders, rocks, gravel, and fill.  This went on for a week and a half.  Now there are no more huge drop offs on either side of the road and in most places, there is enough room for two cars to pass.  What a home coming.

At least three times a day, Pam calls me outside and we just stand.  "Listen to the quiet," she says.  And we do…music of the stars, hum of the mountain sun, gentle hiss of snow falling.  Already Colorado has 100% - 130% of our yearly snow pack.  There is a good amount on the ground.  Unusual for our side of the mountains.  The temperature has been very, very cold… this morning -17 when Lee picked me up to teach me how to use the Jeep with its new snow plow.  For the first time this winter, Lucy went out, picked up her foot and was ready to come in as soon as she pottyed.  

And so it goes in the mountains.  We're expecting more snow tonight.  I will run the plow for the first time tomorrow (supervised!).  We'll go to dinner with friends, and drink in the beauty of all that surrounds us.  We hope you are well wherever February finds you.  Please check back again for more of our Colorado wonderland.  The link below will get you to some pictures.

Bonnie, Pam, and Lucy Blu
Little Valley -- Estes Park -- Colorado

http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/72157640548098293/

Happy Holidays to Everyone, Everywhere!

Greetings to All!

The holidays begin and everyday brings something new: the tree is filled with decorations, friends come to visit, my Moms seeing a play (this year "Mary Poppins") with Mark, Olivia, and Daric, ice on the sidewalks, my holiday haircut, snow softly falling, presents I'm not supposed to sniff, and that classic holiday event…Pat Motto's Gingerbread party for kids of all ages. 

We wish you all a wonderful holiday season, and invite you to come share the fun in Gingerbread house building. Find the fun here: http://youtu.be/DO5VvSK8kKY

Have a safe and warm holiday filled with laughter, love, friends, and family…from our home to yours, Peace on Earth and a Happy New Year.

With love,
           Lucy and Family
PS…stay tuned. My Mom said I could write a few more holidays posts of my own!

Kigali Memorial Centre

Our trip was bookended by reminders of two of the world's most infamous periods of genocide.  In Amsterdam we visited the Anne Frank Museum, and in Rwanda we spent hours in the Kigali Memorial Centre.  

September 14, 2013…going home

A different experience than we thought we'd have, but a typical trip for us with many observations, questions, some answers and a great deal left to reflect on. Starting with our first day in Amsterdam--a visit to the Anne Frank house. Outside the door of the Frank residence stand two children, a boy and a younger girl.  They might have just knocked. They might be waiting for the door to open so they could ask if their friend Anna could come out to play, to wander along the canal and search out other friends. We know something these kinder may not. Their joyful days of play and careless laughter--sometimes at the expense of a friend, are numbered. As they play, a monster is growing just across the border. He will develop his theories of "us and them" at first quietly, then in writing, and finally with maniacal screaming in ever larger public venues.  His words will swiftly take root in the psyches of his audience,  there to do their intended work of kindling distrust, suspicion, and hatred strong enough to kill. 

Hitler's words will separate Ann's friends and her family's acquaintances into "us"--Juden, or "them"--the Aryan chosen, and this from a mongrel with neither blue eyes nor blond hair. To be sure there will be those whose courage and sense of decency will cause them to stand, defend, shelter, hide, care for the "other," never enough to turn the tide of hatred, but enough to show what is possible.

For now, we capture the image of the children at the door of 263 Prinzingracht.  On this September afternoon in 2013, what we know and what they too surely know is that the Frank family is gone from this place.  Only Otto, Anne's father, survived Hitler's holocaust.  He came back to Amsterdam to learn that his entire family was gone. Eventually, he found a publisher for Anne's diary, and converted his now defunct factory/hiding place into a memorial and testimony for the ages. When will we ever learn?  The answer must still be blowin' in the wind.  

The story has been repeated the world over many, too many, times. Now, on the last day of our trip, we stand outside the Genocide Memorial in Kigali, Rwanda.  There are many gardens here honoring and commemorating Rwandan women, children, culture, division, unity, and reconciliation.  Among the gardens there is a simple, raised concrete slab.  Under the slab lies the remains of 250,000 Tutsis and Hutus alike, killed in the genocide of 1994--Rwandans all.  Another mass grave in a far corner, has a glass cover.  Gray silk banners with white crosses have been draped across the coffins and remains below. New bodies are found every day and they are brought here to lie with their fellow Rwandans.  In the gardens there are elephant statues reminding us to Zahore!  Remember.  Near the fountain of coming together there is a statue of a primate with a cellphone.  He is asking us to tell the stories we learn here in hopes that the world will remember and that we will listen to the wind and find an answer.

When our neighbors are called vermin, scourge, leeches, inyenzi--cockroaches, inferior, lower than, "those people," niggers, spics, dagos, frogs, white trash--When they look like us, speak our language; when they laugh and cry with us, share a meal, marry our daughter, how then can we turn our back as they are rounded up, ghettoized, singled out by people we don't even know?  How do some of us find the courage to give our friends food, find them shelter, lead them away from harm?  How did a group of young school girls in Rwanda find the courage to defy the genocidaires who burst into their school?  "OK, Hutu to this side, Tutsi cockroaches over there."  No one moved. "Now! Or you will all die." No one moved.  The entire class died together. 

We learned of the Hutu house worker in a Tutsi home who stood helping her employer when the men with pangas came through the kitchen door, "Stand aside. Let us have the Tutsi inyenzi."  "No, I will not."  The women died together.  And the men and women of the world's undergrounds in Bosnia-Herzegovina, the United States, Britain, China, Vietnam, Cambodia--what of them all--named or unknown--who put their lives in jeopardy for others while their neighbors chanted: "Heil," "Nigger," "Faggot," "Inyenzi," and the gray ashes from the worl'd's incinerators drifted slowly down upon their shoulders like so much dandruff?  Sociologists can name the ways in which genocide is perpetrated.  They can describe those who resist, and those who comply, but simply--neighbor to neighbor, in my family, among my friends, I want to know the answer.  Would I have the courage to give my life.  I cannot be sure.  The answer is still blowin' in the wind.  Hear the voices...

"If you knew me, and if you really knew yourself, you would not have killed me."  Felicien Ntagengwa

Pictures for this blog entry:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/

Mzungu in the Mist

Bwindi Impenetrable National Park in Uganda and the Virunga Massif, a volcanic range that straddles Uganda, Rwanda, and the Democratic Republic of Congo is home to the world’s two populations of mountain gorillas.   Most are found on the slopes of three of the dormant volcanoes: Karisimbi, Mikeno, and Visoke.  The vegetation is very dense at the bottom of the mountains, becoming more sparse at higher elevations.  The forests where the mountain gorillas live are often cloudy, misty and cold.  It is this climatic condition that gave Diane Fossey the name for her book on mountain gorillas:  Gorillas in the Mist.  It has also become a play on words that vendors screen on the backs of souvenir t shirts:  Mzungu in the Mist.  When we asked what this meant, one fellow hesitantly told us, “It means white people in the mist.”

The mountain gorilla is primarily a gentle, non aggressive herbivore.   The majority of its diet consists of leaves, shoots and stems.  Adult males eat 65 -75 pounds of vegetation a day.  Females consume  30 - 40 pounds.  This means that a good deal of each gorilla day is spent in moving from place to place, foraging for food.  Finding a group is no easy task, which is why former poachers are now employed as gorilla trackers.  A salaried tracker can enough to feed and care for his own families and reduces, but does not eliminate, threats to gorillas from poachers.  It is these trackers who stay with a particular group all day long.  At sunset, the trackers put a GPS device on the ground where they leave the gorillas for the night, and then before sunrise, they begin tracking the group from their last known location.  This system makes it possible for national park guides and trackers to bring visitors to the gorillas as they rest from their early morning foraging before moving off in an hour or two to resume eating.   

We arrived at Parc des Volcans, Rwanda and were anxiously awaiting our gorilla group assignment.On the first day, we were assigned Amahoro Group.  They live on the forested slopes between Visoke Volcano and Sabinyo.  We met with our park guide Edward, who told us a bit about Amahoro.  He explained how we should behave with the gorillas (no talking, do not try to touch them, if you are touched or grabbed be very still and do not react) and said would need to hike about two to two and a half hours to reach them.  We grabbed our packs, got in our vehicle, and drove about 30 minutes to the trail head.  

As of late 2008, there were 14 habituated family groups of gorillas in the park.  Only 7 of these are available for tracking by the public.  A $750.00 permit buys the trekker one hour with the gorillas.  The group will be visited only one time during the day.

Indeed treks to reach our assigned groups were as strenuous as advertised.   From a trail head at the end of a village, we hiked up through terraced fields of wheat, barley, squash and pyrethrum until we reached the park boundary.  There, we were met by two trackers assigned to take us to the gorillas.  In our trip literature we understood we would be allowed no closer than 7 m (22 feet) to the gorillas.  Pam brought binoculars on our first hike, and I was confident in the zoom on our video camera.  Reaching the Amahoro group required us to hike first up one mountain, then through a bamboo forest, down the other side of the mountain through jungle filled with stinging nettles.  From a valley we hiked up another mountain and half way down to where the group was resting. We were instructed to leave our packs with our porters (men from the local village we hired to carry our packs) and follow Edward our guide.  

We walked into a junglish clearing and were immediately face to face with our gorillas.  Five feet away from one of the young males, we watched in awe as he sat calmly stripping and eating wild celery.  We were stunned.  I mean stunned like hardly breathing; like tearing up; like speechless, shaking.  The gorillas are beautiful.  They are magnificent and majestic.  The young ones--3 to 6 years old act just like little kids.  They spend much of their time chasing one another, playing, and climbing on trees and adults.  The dominant silverback (head of the group) is generally calm and spends most of his time sleeping or eating.  He can be a fierce defender of his family, but never fights just to defend territory.  The females with babies are loving, gentle, and devoted mothers.  Forget the binoculars! For the next hour we were maneuvered into viewing positions as close as 7-10 feet from various individuals. 

Amahoro group has 18 members:  3 silverbacks (only 1 is dominant, and 1, Kajoliti is one-handed due to being caught in a poacher’s snare), 2 blackbacks (males who haven’t reached sexual maturity), 5 adult females, 2 subadult males, 2 juveniles and 5 babies.  Our alloted hour was so otherworldly that I felt suspended in time.  We stood and moved about on a floor three or four feet deep in springy jungle vines and branches.  Strangely, I never felt unstable.  At one point as we intently watched a group of juveniles, one of the trackers called, “Watch out! Move back” and the silverback pushed through the group brushing against several of us.  When time was up the trackers called to us and we filed reverently back to our waiting porters.  

Reality set in as we trudged back up the steep trail and slowly worked our way toward the terraced fields and finally, our vehicle.  I had to admit to Pam that night that I was sore and tired.  She said, “I’m sure we will have an easier go tomorrow.  Our hike will have to be shorter because of our drive to Kigali.”  But a shorter hike was not in the cards.  In the morning we were assigned Susa group.  They tend to inhabit altitudes of 9,000-10,000 feet on the middle-level slopes of the largest volcano--Karisimbi (14,787').  This group is considered the most strenuous to track. 

Susa is the largest of the tourist groups with 36 members at the time of our visit.   It is the only group to claim two sets of twins.  Twins are normally too stressful for a mother to manage and generally one of the pair is abandoned.  The drive to the trail head that second day took a full hour.  The trek to get to the gorillas was three hours one way, but we had “only” to go up one mountain and half down another rather than the up and down, up and down of the day before.  There were few stinging nettles this time which was a relief.  Once again we left our packs with the porters and followed the trackers into an area dense with vines and trees.  We stopped, I looked down and discovered we were right in front of a mother and her tiny, ten week old baby.  Such affection and tenderness was expressed between the two, our hearts were in our throats.  Although big silverbacks seem to be a large draw for most trekkers, Pam and I were mesmerized by the mother and her baby.  We could have stayed with her for hours.  Two juveniles directly above us were playing “king of the hill.”  They wrestled and mouthed one another, rolling, and pushing, and chasing.  Finally, one guy gave the other a large shove which sent the loser somersaulting down a hill.  The winner watched, stood tall, and slapped his chest three or four times with resounding smacks.  When our hour was up and we were filing past a young gorilla, he suddenly picked up a bunch of leaves, waved them around, and put them on his head like feathers... almost as if he was showing us how clever and cute he was.  Indeed.

Again the trek back to our vehicle was long and arduous.  By afternoon, the jungle trails seem to get more slippery and rocky.  This is probably more a function of how tired  we were than of an actual change in trail conditions.  In three hours we were back at the trailhead.  We thanked and paid our porters, said good-bye to our guide, and rumbled off for the long drive to Kigali. 

In a few hours it began to rain which made the mountain road more slick and rutted than ever.  I wondered how long each vehicle could go before breaking down.  I got my answer as our vehicle came to a grinding halt about 40 k from Kigali.  After removing a front tire and probing the front transmission, it was decided that the vehicle was inoperable and a tow truck was summoned from Kigali.  We arrived in the city about 8 o'clock--tired and hungry.  We got checked in and moved to our rooms.  Linda and Paul arranged for a table for our dinner.  We had wine, toasted, ate, and then crawled off to bed.  The next day all of us were scheduled for afternoon departures for the USA (or in Kathy’s case for Kenya).  In the morning we had  a scheduled visit to the Kigali Memorial Centre and Genocide Museum.

You will find gorilla pictures here:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/

In Uganda

Happy Thanksgiving!

We have so much to be thankful for, not the least of which are our friends and patient followers of this blog.

After promising to blog along as we traveled through Uganda and Rwanda, I found that was impossible on several levels.  Most of you know the story of what happened in our travels to impact my writing, and you know the saga of our return to Colorado after an historic 500 year flood devastated our Little Valley, our town, and the surrounding canyons and towns.  The next few blogs are an attempt to fulfill my promise of an account of our travels.  Rather than the usual interest most travelers generate from family and friends, what we experienced were questions:  WHERE are you going?  Why there?  Do you have to go now?  Are you afraid?  To which we answered:  Uganda and Rwanda.  Mostly to see Mountain Gorillas.  We're not getting any younger and the hiking is strenuous. No, we are not afraid.  We've waited for three years and this seems like an OK time to go.  So we went.

Let me begin by comparing this trip with our other two trips to Africa (South Africa, Botswana, Zimbabwe the first trip; Zambia on the second trip).  Uganda and Rwanda are relatively new to wild life tourism.  The infrastructure is not as developed or sophisticated as we experienced on our other two trips.  Camps are not as luxurious; animals are not as habituated to human visitors (after a few minutes of nervous gawking, they often run out onto the savanna…gorillas would be an exception), nor are they as plentiful; transportation from camp to camp is by safari vehicle, not by bush planes or helicopters.  However, this last fact gave us an intimate view of village and town life as we traveled from camp to camp with drives often lasting 4-5 hours.  From the start we had two guide/drivers--Sula (head guide) and Deo.  We got to know both men fairly well and learned that their expertise was more as drivers than as safari guides.  Our best guides were those native to the national parks and forests.  The guides and trackers in Parc des Volcans, Rwanda (our gorilla guides) were some of the best we've ever experienced.

There are three sets of pictures to accompany the next three blogs:  In Uganda, which contains images from our experiences outside of gorilla trekking, Mzungu in the Mist--images of gorillas and trekking to find them, and Kigali Memorial Centre…a look at the memorial to the 1994 genocide in Rwanda.  Here, I will start with "In Uganda."

That first night in Entebbe, I set the alarm on my iPhone to leave us plenty of time to show up for breakfast and our 8 o'clock a.m. meeting.  Unfortunately Amsterdam is one hour later than Entebbe, and my phone didn't change times until noon.  Needless to say, we were late for our meeting.  That said (not a great way to begin), after leaving Entebbe we traveled cross country for several hours, stopping on the way for a picnic lunch where we got to know fellow travelers and spend some time trading backgrounds.  We really enjoyed our group.  This was not the first African trip for any of us.  In all we were:  Ed and Ceci from Minnesota, Cindy and Tom from Denver, Paul and Linda--Atlanta, Holly--Connecticut, Laura, Washington, D.C., and Kathy from Barrington, IL.  One could not have asked for easier more congenial people to be with.  

Our first destination was Kibale Forest National Park.  We stayed at Primate Lodge, and our two days here were spent viewing chimpanzees and other forest primates.  Our first night we did a night walk looking for elusive bushbabies.  We found 11 and our guide said that was the most he'd found in one walk.  It's weird to be walking in the jungle at night following a flashlight beam, surrounded by jungle sounds (hoots, hollers, grunts, and frogs croaking).  Mostly what we saw of the bush babies were their huge eyes glowing back at us in the beam of a flashlight.  I was able to shoot some video, but none of our digital cameras could capture pictures.  The next morning we walked for about 4-5 hours in Kibale Forest with a guide.  In the morning, chimpanzees screech and scream to one another (an unnerving racket) as a way of bringing troop members together after sleeping.  We did indeed see chimpanzees, but except for one large male, they stayed in the tree tops.  In addition to the chimpanzees, we saw many colobus monkeys, both black and red, baboons, and gray cheeked mangabeys.  

As we walked out of the jungle into swampland, we encountered two young boys.  Alfred was a very serious businessman about 10 years of age.  Taking clay from the swamp banks, he sculpted chimpanzee figures.  These he offered for sale to hikers.  We, of course, bought one of these and because it was still damp, carried it very carefully from camp to camp until it dried.  The other boy was just full of smiles.  As Alfred carefully explained about his wares, smiley boy waved a small catfish he had just caught barehanded from the swamp.  We did not buy the fish!  From Primate Lodge we drove to our next camp in Queen Elizabeth National Park--Jacana Lodge.

On the way we were silent witnesses to life in the villages, towns, and farms we passed.  People going about their daily lives (of course)--carrying water and firewood, going to the store, tending fields and cattle, cooking, washing clothes, visiting, and coming and going from all manner of businesses. Children were going to and from school, playing together, doing family chores, or being carried on their mother's backs.  This part of life was something we had never experienced and we found it everlastingly interesting.  

Once we crossed into Queen Elizabeth National Park we had our first game drive, after which we arrived at Jacana Lodge.  This lodge was set on the edge of Uganda's largest crater lake--Lake Nyamusingire.  Our living quarters were individual chalets overlooking the lake.  That first night Pam and I were serenaded by a hippo mom and her baby who stayed half submerged just off our living room window.  Under the circumstances, I found their songs comforting.  The travel description of our time in QE National Park said:  

      With 2,000 square miles of deep jungle, volcanoes, crater lakes, and open savannas, this diverse 
       landscape is home to a similarly broad array of wildlife, including nearly 100 mammal species and 
       606 species of birds spotted (so far).  We will delve into the varied landscape and waterways of the 
       park in search of elephants, leopards, waterbucks, topis, and horned kobs, to name a few of the 
       regularly sighted species. In addition to game drives, we’ll take an exciting launch trip on the Kazinga  
       Channel that connects Lake Edward with smaller Lake George.

Part of the problem with the game drives is that we left our lodgings around 9 or 9:30 and stayed out until 3, 4, or 5 in the afternoon.  Neither of our guides were the best informants about animals and animal behavior.  The biggest issue however, is that animals are normally active from about 6 or 7 am until 10:30 or 11:00.  They sleep or find shade from noon until about 4 when the sun begins to cool down.  At that time, they come out again to prowl about or graze.  We were driving around during the heat of the day and consequently did not see all that many animals.  We were able to spot several species of birds, a few elephants, waterbucks, topis, and kobs.  The latter three being the ubiquitous antelopes of Uganda.

Arriving at Jacana Lodge after a disappointing afternoon of game viewing, we were assigned to our chalets and had to hurry to shower to get to dinner on time.  The shower felt fine after a day in the heat, but as I stepped out onto a shellacked shower board my foot whipped out from under me and I landed on my butt and right hand with a splat.  As a result, I broke my wrist.  Pam and I wrapped it in an ace bandage and we went to dinner and then to bed.  In the morning I asked Holly, an EMT in "real life," and Cindy, a former occupational therapist, to look at my wrist.  "Almost surely broken," they said, "but not displaced."  So we raided the first aid kit in our vehicle.  We found a masonite board to use as a splint, another ace bandage, and a triangular bandage made from some gossamer material with which Holly created a sling.  She picked up a napkin off the breakfast table to pad the splint, wrapped me, and I was good to go.  One couldn't have asked for better assistance than I got!

The broken wrist posed only this problem:  I am the family photographer and Pam generally doesn't use my digital camera, but she stepped in like a trooper, learned quickly, and got some great shots of the rest of our travels.  The video camera was easier for me to operate, so that was my sole job.

Our launch trip on the Kazinga Channel was truly spectacular.  The river guide was outstanding and we got to see a huge variety of birds, hippos (in and out of the water), elephants, crocs, cape buffalo, and assorted antelope.  When we finished our trip, all of us were complimenting the guide and saying how much we had enjoyed our time with him.  He smiled and said, "Tomorrow, on this water I shall guide the president of our country…Yoweri Museveni."  We knew the president was in the area because we had been forced to pull to the side of the road on our way down to Kazinga Channel while a long line of troop carriers, anti-aircraft guns, soldiers in trucks and jeeps, and long black limos drove past raising clouds of dust.  "Our president is traveling to see his people," explained our driver, Deo.

From Jacana we traveled to the far end of QE Park to our favorite lodge:  Ishasha.  Built on the curve of a river, our suite of airy rooms looked out into the rising sun.  Ishasha is famous for its tree climbing lions.  Lions are not natural tree climbers, but these felines seek out fig and acacia trees in the heat of the day.  They climb out onto stout, bare limbs and drape and wedge themselves in for an afternoon nap.  "I have seen such lions," said Deo, "sleeping like this.  One day, a large male who was sound asleep,  fell right off onto the ground.  He was surprised."  On one of our lengthy (in the heat of the day) game drives, we stopped at the home of some local people and were treated to a traditional meal.  The eldest son first explained about a greeting custom that involved chewing coffee beans.  After the greeting ceremony, the boy served our food (cooked in a distant kitchen by his mother and sisters) and explained the significance of each dish.  It was a great experience after which we struck out again into the heat of the day looking for game.  

Our afternoon was cooled by a quick thunder shower followed by a beautiful rainbow stretching across the horizon.  The rainbow must have been a good omen because we found lions in a tree shortly thereafter. One of the things we appreciated as we went from place to place was that in QE Park, twenty percent of our entrance fees helped support the local communities surrounding the park, including funding schools and medical clinics.  This would be true also of the fee we paid for two days of gorilla trekking.  One can see the differences in villages close to these two parks.  Water pumps and holding towers are obvious.  Children are in school uniforms, school buildings and homes are generally of better quality than elsewhere, and most roads are paved with stones (this is NOT, as we were to experience, necessarily a good thing for vehicles).

From Ishasha we drove through the region known as “the Switzerland of East Africa” for its awe-inspiring mountains. Our vehicles climbed the mountains on rough dirt roads made slick and boggy by rain.  We passed through Kanaba Gap, one of East Africa’s most scenic areas, before arriving in Kisoro, surrounded by volcanoes—Sabinyo (11,923'), Mgahinga (11,397'), and Muhabura (13,540'). Our border crossing into Rwanda was memorable for several reasons.  First, it was raining sheets and the government building was so small supplicants had to stand outside.  Next, presenting papers and having our passports stamped took at least an hour because computers were down.  The government officials were…well, government officials.  Last, as I came finally to the window to speak to the heretofore crabby and cantankerous official he looked out at me with great concern.  "Oh.  You are broken.  Did you do that in my country?"  "Yes," I replied.  "Oh.  I am so sorry."  He stamped my passport and returned it with a smile.  


From the border crossing we continued through volcanic uplands to Kinigi, headquarters of Parc National des Volcans (Volcanoes National Park). There we moved into the simple comforts of Gorilla Mountain View Lodge, our base for gorilla trekking in the Parc National des Volcans.  That evening we enjoyed red wine with our feet propped on the lip of a warm fire.  Tomorrow we would see the gorillas.

Here is a link to pictures of our time in Uganda:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtnpostpics/sets/ 

When you land on the Flickr page, you will see the first three sets which correspond to the trip blogs:  In Uganda, Mzungu in the Mist, and Kigali memorial Centre.  

Long Day of Travel

This will be very short as we've been at an airport and in a plane since 8:00 this a.m. and it's now 1:00 a.m. Our connections have been great...Pam making all the reservations and pick up/delivery, airport has gone like clock work so far. We are in the Victoria Hotel in Entebbe...quite lovely. Our group is scheduled to gather at 9:00 tomorrow morning for a briefing and then we'll get in our safari vehicles and be off for Kibale Forest National Park. We've met one of our guides at the airport and he seems like a really nice guy. We'll see what the morning brings. Here is our itinerary for tomorrow:
We board our Land Rovers in the morning and drive into the lush green countryside of Uganda, a country described by Winston Churchill as “the Pearl of Africa.” We pass through landscapes where African farmsteads
crammed with bananas and tropical trees mingle with wetlands and patches of forest or bush, and give way to tea plantations as we gain elevation. After a picnic lunch en route, we enter Kibale Forest National Park, where we
may catch our first glimpse of chimps, baboons, or other primates. While in Kibale, we’ll stay at Primate Lodge, a luxury tented camp consisting of eight deluxe safari tents. They are raised on wooden platforms and feature
verandas, comfortable beds, and en-suite bathrooms. We gather for meals in the open-air restaurant and can relax in the cozy bar, lounge, or around the fireplace. (6-7 hours driving).

So that's what we know for now. It may be some time again before we have internet connections, so if you don't hear from us for awhile, don't worry. I will continue to blog each day (I hope), and when we can we'll post what we've done. Wishing you all well. We are off for our adventure!

Location:Entebbe, Uganda