November 25, 2013

Olifants Rest Camp. 

Midafternoon and I write this from the table of our small kitchen/eating area overlooking a broad bend in the Olifants River.  We moved from Letaba to Olifants yesterday and somehow I had the great luck to book a bungalow overlooking the river.  Olifants Camp is built high on a bluff over the river and the view is truly lovely.  It’s warm, but not hot, humid but not oppressive.  A soft, warm afternoon with the sound of the river below and patterns of cloud shadows moving across the green hills in all directions.  This bungalow is situated on a point in the bluff and as I sit here I cannot see another structure (except of course for the electric fence…).  It’s a place where you could sit for hours and feel compelled to do nothing but watch the changes in light. 

I was fortunate to book this place but unfortunately for only two nights so tomorrow we pack and move to Satara as we begin to wind down this trip.  In less than a week we’ll be home.  It seems impossible that we’ve been here for two weeks now.  We miss Aislin and the Pipers and the cats but neither of us is anxious to leave this behind.  Especially with this beautiful afternoon.

I think the time flies by because we’ve been so busy.  Basically we do three things.  We sleep, though not enough.  We eat.  Like kings.  We drive.  We drive hours every day.  It’s what we’re here for and every day rewards the misery of sitting in a car with at least some little gift.  I think if we had longer here, we’d take days off and just sit around camp.  But we have so few days here.

We’re mostly cut off from the outside world.  There used to be limited internet at Lower Sabie and Skukuza, but now there’s no internet at all in the Park. I’d been able to use text messaging here in the past so my plan was to be able to stay in touch with family and friends via text, but the plan isn’t working.  I was able to send/receive texts when I first arrived here but then I suddenly stopped receiving both texts and voice calls.  I spent part of a day calling Verizon global support but in the end got nowhere (“Do you have another phone you can use, Sir?  Is there perhaps a land line you could use in your hotel? Are you able to place outgoing calls?” – “Um, I called you, remember?”).  Since then, there have been a couple of occasions where I was able to send/receive texts for brief periods but then they’d stop.  I’d not planned to turn data on the phone because it’s apparently very expensive and no one could give me any sense of HOW expensive “very expensive” is.  But I did turn it on for a brief time, and my phone was flooded with information, mostly via Facebook and Twitter.  And from that I got two bits of news.

The first is that Dario Franchitti has decided to retire.  I was pleased to hear this news and I suspect that most of my friends in the IndyCar community feel the same way.  Dario had a massive accident in Houston.  As I recall, he fractured some vertebrae that didn’t require surgery, fractured an ankle which required two surgeries, and suffered a concussion which I suspect was bigger than anyone let on publicly.  Dario is, I think, 40 years old and in the twilight of what’s been a great career. He’s charismatic, articulate and is genuinely liked throughout the racing community.  He is an historian of the sport and a person of real substance.  He’s achieved great success in a sport that actually is kind to very few drivers - I believe that Dario’s won the Indy 500 three times and was national IndyCar champion four. He’s a driver who makes friends and has as a result suffered real loss in this sport.  I’m sure that’s weighed heavily on him, especially considering that his accident was a close thing.  The physics are such that just a small, random difference in the trajectory of the car or construction of the fence could mean the difference between a concussion and a fatal head injury.  I’m sure that it was a difficult decision for Dario and I don’t know what he’s got in mind yet for the future, but I’m happy that he chose to leave with his health and legacy intact.

The second bit of news was of the passing of my uncle Ed Skaren.  Eddie was my cool uncle.  He married my dad’s baby sister so he was younger than my other uncles.  I served as the ring bearer at their wedding, which happened to be on my birthday (I think I was about 7?).  I remember wearing a white jacket and how vital my role was, carrying those rings on a satin pillow.  I remember that Eddie raced modifieds on the dirt tracks of western Iowa for a brief time, and him telling a story of barrel-rolling the car one night (Lights. Dirt. Lights. Dirt.).  That was enough to enshrine him as a darned cool uncle in my book.  He was also a lifelong motorcyclist.  And, he had a tattoo.

I’ve grown apart from my extended family over the years.  No dramatic reason – just caught up in my own life stuff.  And our politics are different and it seems that can sometimes be difficult to overcome when you’re young.  As I get older though, those things don’t seem so important, and I mourn the passing of my cool Uncle Eddie.  My thoughts are with my Aunt Marilyn and all of their children and grandchildren.

And back to Kruger.  As I’ve been writing this I’ve been visited by red-winged starlings and now by an African tree Squirrel, making their cases for the almonds sitting here on the table.  It’s verboten to feed the animals and I won’t feed them, but, dang they’re cute.  The squirrel is spread-eagled on the cool stone of the little patio, just watching me, plotting his next move.

Two days ago, we went on an early morning bushwalk at Letaba.  Bushwalks are guided by armed rangers and give guests the opportunity to stretch their legs and to see and appreciate the little things that you can’t see from the car.  They’re typically not the place where you’re going to see the Big Five, but you have time to talk about tracks and scat and the birds and insects.  On this morning, Gina and I were the only guests so it was like our own private walk.  The rangers – Cecilia and Oscar – were personable and fun.  And, while you generally don’t run into large animals on walks, we bumped into a lone cape buffalo and had to go into a defensive mode, which was pretty exciting.  In the end, the buffalo, which can be unpredictable and dangerous, just moseyed off and we stopped to get our heart rates down and take a break.

Last evening, we photographed hippos from a close distance at a low water crossing and found a hyena den.  We went back this morning, hoping for great morning light.  We didn’t get the light, and he hippos were gone, but we spent a long time watching hyenas and hammerkop fishing in a small draw.  It’s hard to express how nice it is to just sit and enjoy the sounds and smells and not feel hurried to do anything.  Have to figure out how to bring that back.