Tracking the “Real” King of the Jungle
The Mountain Gorillas of Uganda
The Mountain Gorillas of Uganda
I’ve seen them in books, on television and behind bars (at the zoo) but never in my wildest dreams, had I imagined seeing them in the wild. One of life’s most exhilarating and humbling experiences - tracking the largest primate on the planet, the famed mountain gorillas!
Awaking bright and early, 4:30 am, after yet another dorm inflicted insomniac’s sleep, I fumbled around in the dark for my bags, trying my best to offer those sleeping the courtesy they failed to offer me the night before…quiet.
Climbing into my driver, George’s, beat up Corolla my exhaustion quickly morphed into excitement. Winding our way into the hills, Kabale soon dissapeared into the early morning darkness and the bright stars above (far brighter then George’s headlights) led the way. Guiding us through thick, high altitude mist, visibility was limited to an ambitious 20-feet and the unruly jungle seemed to close in on us with each roadside advance. Fighting the pre-dawn daze, I desperately tried to absorb what I was about to do - in a few hours time, I might be face to face with a 400-pound male silverback - but the feelings were impossible to grasp.
Crunching to a halt at the main gate we were greeted by a drowsy park ranger who welcomed us to, “Bwindi Impenetrable Forest.” “Impenetrable?” I couldn’t help but chuckle. Surely this name was given to strike fear and awe into trekker’s hearts. Right??
Bwindi National Park is not only one of the steepest and densest regions in East Africa to track gorillas, the region I chose, “Ruhija”, is considered one the most difficult of all! Still unable to comprehend the challenge now staring at me from behind layers of branches, leaves and vines, I mused with fellow trackers that the gorillas would probably be sitting just inside the canopy, snacking on bananas and bamboo, awaiting their daily movie star snaps. Thankfully (and somewhat painfully), I was wrong.
Jimmy, a witty, young Ugandan chap, introduced himself as our gorilla tracker and offered a fantastic briefing on what was to come. Sitting in a semi-circle, my enthusiastic tracking group of 8 (the max number allowed per day) listened intently to his every word. He began, "There is no guarantee we see the gorillas. We can only try our best." Looking around the circle, we all shared the same non-verbalized sentiment. "Uh sir? We paid 500 USD to see gorillas!" Sensing our unease, Jimmy tried to reassure us with a half-back refund if we failed to see the primates. A gesture that didn't provide much ease. "Sorry Jimmy, we don't travel to the middle of nowhere Uganda every year, we must find these gorillas!" He quickly moved on with the briefing; “Always keep 7 meters distance, don’t bring any food or water near the gorillas and if the gorillas charge, shift your eyes and bodies to the ground.” WHAT? Charge? A piece of information that proved vital a few hours later…
Waving goodbye to my ever-so-kind and paternal driver George, our trekking figure 8 set off. With pants tucked into socks, sacrificing fashion for safari ant bites, we graciously accepted the other trekking precaution, hiking sticks. Aiding in the steep grade, or as I thought but restrained from saying, combatting a disgruntled silverback!
Awaking bright and early, 4:30 am, after yet another dorm inflicted insomniac’s sleep, I fumbled around in the dark for my bags, trying my best to offer those sleeping the courtesy they failed to offer me the night before…quiet.
Climbing into my driver, George’s, beat up Corolla my exhaustion quickly morphed into excitement. Winding our way into the hills, Kabale soon dissapeared into the early morning darkness and the bright stars above (far brighter then George’s headlights) led the way. Guiding us through thick, high altitude mist, visibility was limited to an ambitious 20-feet and the unruly jungle seemed to close in on us with each roadside advance. Fighting the pre-dawn daze, I desperately tried to absorb what I was about to do - in a few hours time, I might be face to face with a 400-pound male silverback - but the feelings were impossible to grasp.
Crunching to a halt at the main gate we were greeted by a drowsy park ranger who welcomed us to, “Bwindi Impenetrable Forest.” “Impenetrable?” I couldn’t help but chuckle. Surely this name was given to strike fear and awe into trekker’s hearts. Right??
Bwindi National Park is not only one of the steepest and densest regions in East Africa to track gorillas, the region I chose, “Ruhija”, is considered one the most difficult of all! Still unable to comprehend the challenge now staring at me from behind layers of branches, leaves and vines, I mused with fellow trackers that the gorillas would probably be sitting just inside the canopy, snacking on bananas and bamboo, awaiting their daily movie star snaps. Thankfully (and somewhat painfully), I was wrong.
Jimmy, a witty, young Ugandan chap, introduced himself as our gorilla tracker and offered a fantastic briefing on what was to come. Sitting in a semi-circle, my enthusiastic tracking group of 8 (the max number allowed per day) listened intently to his every word. He began, "There is no guarantee we see the gorillas. We can only try our best." Looking around the circle, we all shared the same non-verbalized sentiment. "Uh sir? We paid 500 USD to see gorillas!" Sensing our unease, Jimmy tried to reassure us with a half-back refund if we failed to see the primates. A gesture that didn't provide much ease. "Sorry Jimmy, we don't travel to the middle of nowhere Uganda every year, we must find these gorillas!" He quickly moved on with the briefing; “Always keep 7 meters distance, don’t bring any food or water near the gorillas and if the gorillas charge, shift your eyes and bodies to the ground.” WHAT? Charge? A piece of information that proved vital a few hours later…
Waving goodbye to my ever-so-kind and paternal driver George, our trekking figure 8 set off. With pants tucked into socks, sacrificing fashion for safari ant bites, we graciously accepted the other trekking precaution, hiking sticks. Aiding in the steep grade, or as I thought but restrained from saying, combatting a disgruntled silverback!
Slicing into the jungle, it didn’t take long before the beautiful foliage turned to volatile verdure. The definition of, “impenetrable”, slapping me in the face with every broken branch, serrated leaf and stinging nettle. Where was the path? There was no path! Gorillas move everyday and it is impossible to create footpaths to their “normal” stomping grounds. They stomp where they want, when they want. We quickly found ourselves squeezing, crawling, and in many cases, “gracefully” tumbling down the steep, muddy embankments.
All sense of direction was lost to this vegetation vortex and the instant we fell out of pace with Jimmy, we found ourselves incomprehensibly lost. Commencing a game of jungle, “Marco Polo”, we found Jimmy just in time for our first big down, a 75-degree hillside! Grasping onto loose vines and branches (most of which ripped out at their wet and rotted roots), we struggled to lower ourselves down safely. Everyone took a tumble or two but no one worse then the poor Irish lass who was inches from going over the cliff (thank goodness for stinging nettle bushes…ouch). |
Pictures cannot do this jungle justice.
It was thick, unforgiving and as the name states, "Impenetrable"! |
With the help of Jimmy’s ever-ready machete, and our gun slinging back up tracker, we blazed our path. (The pellet gun is carried to combat rogue elephants but I must say, a loaded gun positioned directly behind you while slipping and sliding through the jungle, did nothing to evoke comfort). Clambering up and down,,,up and down…we penetrated further into the depths until almost three hours later we heard an energetic HOWL!!!!
Not the howls of animals, mind you, but of other park trackers. Specialized trackers are deployed every morning, before the tourists, to locate the gorilla’s exact locations. The howl meant we were getting close! Anticipation and nerves were at an all time high when a loud roar rang out! This time, it was not the trackers. |
Regrouping on a narrow, crumbly embankment, we stared down into the verdant palm-swathed valley while Jimmy briefed us on the next lag. “No eating, no drinking and no flash photography. Remain calm and quiet and NEVER stray from the trackers!”
Like a scene from “Congo”, we couldn’t see the gorillas but we knew they are there. At times, I could almost hear the Alpha Male, the Silverback, breathing heavily behind my ear, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
Safely reaching the valley floor and finally letting go of my, “Congo”, movie memories, I had barely taken two steps forward when…ROAR! ROAR! ROAR! The distant rumbles from before had reached a 5-alarm threat! A full-grown male black back pierced the wall of green and charged those first in line. Hitting the deck, we offered submission to the gorilla, and after a few agro fist pumps and chests thumps he retreated to his jungle cover. Snapping twigs, ripping open branches and sucking nutrients from every possible surface, the spectators that once threatened were now his lunch guests.
Like a scene from “Congo”, we couldn’t see the gorillas but we knew they are there. At times, I could almost hear the Alpha Male, the Silverback, breathing heavily behind my ear, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
Safely reaching the valley floor and finally letting go of my, “Congo”, movie memories, I had barely taken two steps forward when…ROAR! ROAR! ROAR! The distant rumbles from before had reached a 5-alarm threat! A full-grown male black back pierced the wall of green and charged those first in line. Hitting the deck, we offered submission to the gorilla, and after a few agro fist pumps and chests thumps he retreated to his jungle cover. Snapping twigs, ripping open branches and sucking nutrients from every possible surface, the spectators that once threatened were now his lunch guests.
My heart was beating out of my chest but I still couldn’t unglue myself from the jungle floor. Perfectly poised, an unintentional 5-meters away, I had the best (albeit limited) view of his majesty.
Smack. Crack. The trackers moved on, attempting to find a better viewing platform of the black back, and our posse was left to do what tourists do best, take photos! As we snapped, they hacked! Forging a new path with their razor sharp machetes, a few quick swipes and the leafy curtain opened, revealing the main event! Perfectly exposed, the bright sun bounced off his chiseled black chest and his shiny black eyes glinted to life. |
I wasn't looking at an animal, I was looking at human. Sharing 97% of the same genetic makeup, I could see evolution unfolding before my eyes. Sure we don’t have canine teeth, weigh 400 pounds, or need a full-body wax but their actions and emotions evoked an extremely intelligent being. Stretching his long, hairy arms into the dense jungle behind, he grabbed whatever was accessible. Returning with a calloused fist full of foliage, the black back would analyze his find before crunching into his next course. Depositing the fare into his wide mouth, he chewed like a well-oiled, ill-mannered machine. Smack. Smack. Only once did the great primate feel the need to stand up. Stretching his entire fuzzy body to reach a delicious looking plant high above, his immense size was finally realized. |
Over the next hour (the full allotted time with the family), we found not only the famed, Silverback, but also a few females and even 2 bouncing babies. Unfortunately, the impenetrable surrounds made photography extremely difficult, shooting between branches and around trees with one boot muddled in swampland and the other clinging to loose dirt. But it was this photographers woe, that made the trek so great! It’s too easy to focus on capturing the moment and in turn failing to truly experience it. Unable to snap the National Geographic shots I had previously hoped for, I reclined the camera and simply watched - each arm extension, nostril flare, molar crunch and those extra special moments of eye-to-eye interaction.
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One hour flew by quicker then a Ugandan Olympian, and when Jimmy said we must return, I was more the reluctant. Gathering my final thoughts and impressions, I placed them in my travelers memory bank and began the clumsy climb out.
There are no words, no descriptions, no emotions that can accurately describe the rush of coming face to face with a mountain gorilla. The only way to know, is to go!
There are no words, no descriptions, no emotions that can accurately describe the rush of coming face to face with a mountain gorilla. The only way to know, is to go!
* Over 700 mountain gorillas call East Africa home (residing mainly in Uganda, Rwanda and Congo), and thanks to the efforts of National Park protection programs, poaching has decreased immensely, and the numbers are steadily growing.
If you want to learn more about mountain gorillas, visit: Uganda Wildlife Authority Or, if you want a crash course, don’t flick on King Kong or Congo, watch Jane Fossey’s, “Gorilla’s in the Mist” - a real portrayal of just how passive and human-like these magnificent creatures are. |