She So Horny (8/16)

NOTE: This posting is dedicated to my dad, Joe Kolsky, without whom Two Live Crew would never have introduced the world to Gangsta’ Rap and Parental Advisory Warnings on CD covers.

Anne and I beat our 5am wakeup knock, and by 6am we met our guide, Masek, and two trackers, Lazarus and Nicholas, for our rhino tracking excursion. After a bumpy one hour slalom drive up and down steep hills, through rocky sagebrush, and across multiple dry river beds flanked by luscious dawn-lit mountains, we dropped off Lazarus, Nicholas, and Captain Dan, who set out on foot to discover fresh rhino tracks, as the less intrepid and more physically challenged travelers waited for word of a sighting and hopefully a more direct route to our target.

After almost an hour of waiting for a call, Masek received word of fresh tracks and we set out on foot in the general direction of the trackers, passing half a kudu (only bones, horns, and legs) with a double odor (having been dead a week since his brief encounter with Bert Lahr’s not-so-cowardly descendant).

Unfortunately, after an hour meandering up, down, and around the rocky terrain, we lost contact with the trackers. Masek left us in the shade of a dry river bed, while he moved to higher ground in search of a signal as Anne rested her weary knee in the shade, Nancy left her binoculars, and Rick massaged his aching hip on an accommodating rock.

Twenty minutes later, Masek returned with good news. Lazarus had found Elizabeth (a pregnant rhino, relocated from Etosha with full benefits), Dan and Nick were on their way to meet him, and we now had a vague sense of where they were located. For the next hour, we advanced towards our goal, with only a few wrong turns along the way, finally detecting a crimson-crested loon in the distance as Cap’n Dan waved at us from a hillside across the valley. Within minutes, we were reunited and they escorted us to a spot on the hill and pointed out a ton of glow and radiance (remember, she was pregnant, an 18-month ordeal) amongst the trees on the neighboring hillside.

For twenty minutes, we marveled and shot (100 photos) at this double-horned beauty, while she munched on leaves and shot us an occasional glare as if threatening to charge.

After a brief debate over whether she was named after the queen or Liz Taylor (my choice based on her shape and the fact that she had multiple mates both in Etosha and Damaraland), we finally bid adieu and began our long trek back, during which we wrenched one knee, rattled a log-embedded monitor lizard, and recovered the lost binoculars.

Two hours later, we finally arrived at the Land Rover and embarked on our hour-long roller coaster ride back to the lodge, for a desperately-needed ice-pack, a well-deserved nap, and warm showers all around.