Ten days in the bush

These top two pictures don't go with the text.
I just put them up here to break it up

The South Africans used to have a saying that you should make your servant quarters nice enough for yourself to live in because someday you may have to. That has sort of happened here in Zambia. The mission built a house here in Solwezi many years ago which is now in the custody of the Zambian church. There is a missionary couple living in the house but the church is also renting out the servant's quarters to a descendant of a former missionary. His name is Charlie Rae and he works as a civil engineer for the mines and is 4th generation in Africa. He was at Sakeji about 20 years before me and when I was young I knew (as much as someone young can know someone old) his parents. His niece and nephew were also at Sakeji with me although some years younger. All this to say I got to know Charlie and he told me about an opportunity to go in the bush and count animals.

Charlie is a (note not the but a) driving force behind the West Lunga Trust which opperates in an area just outside one of Zambia's least developed game parks. The game park does not in actual fact have any accommodation for visitors at all and the wiki entry says it's not even listed by the tourist board. The area is in tribal land under control of three chiefs and is designated as a Game Management Area or GMA. The land in the GMA is not open to farming or habitation except by permission by the chief (some of the scouts live near the road). In order to fish the river, a commercial license must be obtained from the government fisheries department. It is possible to cross the area but only if you obtain a transit letter form the chief. Barring a fishing license or a transit letter the only people allowed into the GMA are game scouts (and apparently friends of Charlie). The game scouts are different from game rangers in that game rangers work in the game park and are paid by the government. The scouts are local men paid by the chief or possibly someone at the provincial level. The scouts have the power to detain you but not press charges or decide you can be let free if the evidence is too small to prosecute. That is to say, game rangers have some authority that in the states may be at the discretion of a district attorney or prosecutor. Both scouts and rangers go armed with AK-47s. Much of the scouts other gear has been provided by Charlie (the scouts are all big fans). He has been the force behind making sure the annual inventory is done, which is where I come in. Since 2003 lines have been laid out every 5k that are in theory 10k long and are walked once a year, the animals seen are recorded. For reasons not fully understood by me but involving vast sums of UN money coming into the district and being squandered elsewhere, the inventory had not been done the last two years.

Friday September 2nd I was asking Charlie (after talking about planes, if you must know...he flies a RV-6) about the counting. He said if I wanted to go I'd better hurry since it was about to start and he was leaving that afternoon. With a minimum of thought and maximum of worry I decided to do it. My main worry was whether I would physically be able to walk the distances required. Charlie felt that on an average day we would walk 25k. A quick extremely slow trip to the bank and grocery store, as well as market and meat market saw me outfitted with a small backpack, cheap wide brim hat, some apples, granola bars, rice, split peas, hard candy and two types of precooked sausage and jerky. I also had a 2.5liter jug of water, a borrowed sleeping bag and thin mat from Mom, with my camera I was ready to go. The plan was for me to go with Charlie to his house in Mwinilunga for the night and then Saturday drive with the chairman of the West Lunga Trust to the GMA. As it turns out the chairman's car was not working so on Saturday and then Sunday I went with Charlie out to a new house he is building. I tried to talk pictures but my camera utterly failed to capture the splendor of the site. The Japanese have a word to describe the harmony of a well trained horse and it's experienced rider...what ever that word is, it would apply to this house. The house is situated out of town close to the airport surrounded by virgin forest. In the middle of the property is a large sink hole about 150' lower than the house which has a small marsh/lake at the bottom. The whole property is surrounded by game fence and the plan is to have various African antelope in the fence. There will be a number of places to stay around the hole with a eye to the local upper management of the mines as customers on a weekend getaway. The accommodations will be tents that have a cement slab under them and a thatch roof over with a bricked shower and toilet at the end. The Zambians have long since stopped building round huts preferring square corners since that seems I guess, more modern. Needless to say old-time whites in Africa always choose the round option whenever they can. Charlie's cabin has two bedrooms with a curve leading into each wing and round ends on them. When we were there they were putting up the ridge and rafters. Well, I had a ball. As a former roofer the sort of problems he's invented were right up my alley.

The woods showing the difference between an ideal
burn and a too hot and dry burn.

Monday morning we hired a truck to haul me down to the GMA at 7am. The driver was 1 1/2 hours late which was just as well since I had been up all night sick and was feeling very fragile. Lets just say I started out the trip well drained. America's 3rd favorite hypothetical question(the other two involving the sound of hands and trees)  involves a question about bears and woods. In regards to me, the answer would be yes, yes I did, but not till Thursday.

They only hold their guns like gangsters
while posing for pictures

Let me at this point give a summery of the trip and then handle a few topics by themselves.
We arrived first at the scout camp, picked them up and moved to base camp 1, about 7k away, and set up camp.  The next 3 days some went on patrol and some counted on lines 9,7 and then 5. Having accumulated some blisters I sat out line 5. Next a number of us went up to base camp 2. The next 3 days we counted on 3, 4, and 1.  Again blisters being a problem I sat out line 1. The following day we returned to base camp 1. The last day on patrol we did line 6. The car was to get us but was late so we didn't leave till early on the 16th.

The suspect

Let me now focus on a few specifics. The day we arrived we pulled into the scout camp and they had there a poacher who had been caught with a load of dried baboon meat. Apparently the scouts were just walking along a path and he was coming the other way and decided not to risk running against AK-47s. His partner did and got away. Both men were from local villages and well know to the scouts. The next day when we came from patrol he was sick as a dog and was diagnosed with dysentery caused from drinking bad water. After he didn't improve overnight one of the scouts went off in the bush and brought back some roots from what we a kids called a monkey face tree (no idea why, we learned it from others). They boiled up the roots and he drank the 'tea'. A day later he was doing fine.

Bush medicine 

The night we went to base camp 2 five scouts and the suspect remained at base camp 1. Somehow during the night he removed one side of the cuffs that were on his feet and fled into the night.  I say somehow because for a while they gave a reward for convictions until poachers figured out that a large bribe was better than 6 months to 6 years in jail. When I asked the chairman of the trust what would happen he felt that after hiding for a month or two he would arrange a relative to return the undamaged cuffs and plead his case. The fact that scouts and this poacher all live in the same area makes it hard for them to be strict. In the villages poaching is viewed as sort of wrong, like running a stop light that has been yellow so long it's starting to turn pink. Not all poachers get off. One day when the scouts were on patrol on the other side of the river they were on the track of poachers and met some scouts working for a different chief. The other scouts said they would take over and if they didn't find them come over for breakfast. Next morning they were warmly welcomed and after loud greetings all round got down to exchanging information and telling stories. Now all of this is in a language I don't understand so I was mostly busying my self with breakfast but one story was so dramatically told I asked what they were saying. It seems their guys caught a poacher but when they got to the road his village threatened the scouts with having a witch doctor put a curse on them. The spiritual darkness here is such that this was not an idle treat and the scouts didn't treat it as such. They got right on their radios and called in the game rangers 'come pronto'. Well come they did. In mass. The rangers pulled right up into the village and proceeded to lay a beating on all concerned. The scouts described it as being like a riot with the rangers doing all the rioting. Then they too the poacher off to jail. I asked if they had a curse put on them but they just laughed and said no. People in Africa do indeed live in fear of witch craft but when it comes down to it men with AK-47s wield a more immediate level of respect.

I've cropped the bloody bits.

While walking the lines almost every day we crossed poacher's paths and almost every day there was traffic less than two weeks old. Most of the poaching is done with wire snares. On September 11th we came to a stream bed with a young Blue Duiker caught by the leg in a wire snare. Normally it would have caught an adult around the neck and killed quickly. In this case it had taken the fur off the leg to the knee and broke the other leg where it wrapped around the tree. We put it right down. They say that the poachers set traps and then leave so they wouldn't be caught. They then return a few days later. These guys had probably seen the scouts go into the bush and had not been in the area for two weeks. The poor thing had been trapped for about a day.

Bush Viagra tm

I touched briefly on the bush medicine used to cure our poacher's dysentery. One day coming home we came to a small stream and the leader let out an load exclamation. I thought he must have fallen in since I was at the end of the line and was still scrambling through the dense brush that always surrounds these streams. Nothing could have been further from the truth. The fellow found a plant that helps with potency and in the turgidity department. Well all the guys on the trip were from their mid thirties to mid forties and all wanted some. Again it's boiled and the juice then drunk about a tablespoon at a time three times a day. They offered me some but I demurred, I really don't have much need for that type of cure at this point in my life. Later in the trip more roots were collected that were supposed to improve general good health.

An improvised bridge

Every day out walking we came across streams. This being the dry season some were mere boggy places or stagnant water. Others were babbling brooks. The scouts all wore 'gum' boots so stepping in water was not a problem. I didn't mind water so long as it was not too deep. My main worry was that I fall in and kill the GPS and my camera. Several days after we crossed we took a break while I ate my lunch and all had a good drink. I carried 2 1/2 liters of water which was about the right amount. If the stream was moving they all drank straight from it as they did the Lunga. If it was stagnant they had treatment pills they put in the water. One day we saw where a poacher had lit a fire and we were headed that way. Since we were high already we decided to keep to the high ground.

The pool I'd sit in to wash.

At one point we crossed a fast moving stream that couldn't be more than 100' below the ridge line. I would have loved to explore it's source. I can't figure how you could have a water source so near the top of a ridge but there it was. The best spring was at base camp 2. The camp was situated where it entered the Lunga. I had been told it was a hot spring. It was at best a lukewarm stream. Still considering how chilly the Lunga was it was a pleasure to sit in at the end of the day and wash my cloths whilst getting cleaner than I ever did splashing water over my shoulder(while suppressing a scream) at base camp 1. The whole of that stream was less than 300ft long but will be somewhere I return to often in my dreams as an almost perfect place.



The actual job we were doing was two fold. At it's core we were doing an inventory of the animals we saw in the area. In all of this area fire is used to clear the grass. Within about a week of being burned new tender grass appears despite being the middle of the dry season with the rains months away. How or why the grass knows to grow once the coarse dry old stuff been burned is an enuring mystery to me.
Most of this area had either not been burned or burned within the last week or so. In areas that hadn't been burned there was no way at we were going to see animals short of stepping on them. In the other areas there was little food for them. Although we were in fairly open woodlands not much could be see beyond 100 yards. The upshot of all that is we saw lots of scat and tracks but few animals. To be fair I did indeed see the hind ends of a few rapidly departing critters. Nothing you could have gotten a camera turned on for. The second thing we were doing was marking the trail for years to come. Every 100m or so bark has been cut off a patch of tree. Some lines also had how far along it was marked but that was 5 years ago and needed repainted. After the first day I had some pretty gnarly blisters. In all my worries blisters didn't cross my thinking...just goes to show the futility of worry.....you're liable to worry about all the wrong things.
Least you blame my boots, as Charlie did, they fit as well as any footwear (or should that be foot ware look it up and give me you opinion in the comments, Mom and I settled for footwear) I have had in the last decade. Crashing through heavy brush I was daily grateful for their heavy construction. No, unfortunately my soft flabby feet were the real culprits. By the end I had 7 but one which was king. From the second day onwards a scout and I went forward at a plodding pace to find the marked trees, letting the painters follow. In tall grass marked trees were often hard to find since trees were not directly on the line but close. One tree to the next might point you off the line a bit.
The other major peril whilst walking were numerous shrubby thorn trees which were about shoulder height and hid like snakes in the grass waiting to grab you. The solution was a bamboo walking stick which also made walking considerably easier. I really liked that stick but left it in the bush since I couldn't see a use for it here in town.






Two of the guys were completely honey crazy. Coming home they were on the look out for wild hives. Now I know African bees have quiet a reputation but they are not as bad as all that. So far as I know they never got stung even as they chopped down the tree the bees lived in. In the category of you learn something new every day I found out that there are a whole class of stingerless bees that also produce honey. The ones that they found came in two sizes and besides not stinging they also differ in that they store honey in round pouches. They don't produce much honey.

A sweet tooth break. Get it any way you can.

The entrance to the small bees' hive

Honey pouches about 1/3
of their honey

What Africans call Bream

The Lunga river divides the game park from the GMA. The area we were in was about 15k north and west of the game park. We camped on the bank of the river. It was of course a spot picked for it's natural beauty. We camped under huge old trees with a good mix of palm trees which were graceful and had beautiful arched leaves. Charlie at the last minute loaned me a Hennessy Hammock which was very comfortable. The only problem was the nights were cool and the sleeping bag compressed under me kept me somewhat cooler than I would have liked the first night. The next night I wore more cloths to bed. I never did figure out a graceful way to get the top half of me into the sleeping bag. For those unfamiliar (probably all) the hammock is asymmetrical with allowances made so you can sleep on your side in an almost flat position. The concern about the hard ground sorted, the hammock had a built in net so the creeping bug problem was also sorted.

Simon with a Tiger fish

What a welcome relief since I brought no tent. We brought a canoe with us and used it to haul supplies to and from base camp 2. It was also use by Simon the guild to fish. Simon has a good quantity of western fishing gear Americans have given him over the years. Almost every day the supper pot had fish in it. Happy (yes that's his real name), who you see in the group photo holding a cat fish, and Simon would set night lines for cat fish. If you ever get a chance get Charlie to arrange a fishing trip for you. Tiger fish are the king of sport fishing in Zambia. Bring silver lures with a leader. They have a mouth full (well not actually full, since the teeth remain on the outside when they shut their jaw, but you know what I'm saying) of sharp teeth. As far as eating goes they have lots of small "Y" bones. It's these bones which give them their explosive speed and fight on the line.


The last day was a long and boring one. We didn't expect our ride to be there before 11am at the earliest. We were packed and ready to go. As the afternoon drug on we cussed and discussed our driver. We decided that the chairman's truck must have been broke down again and that the hired truck must be stopping to pick up rides. By 5 we admitted (we were out of cell range) to ourselves that my note had either not gotten to Charlie or he was letting us stay an extra day or something. We unpacked and set up camp again. There were many discussions around the fire about what we should do. Some of the guys wanted to leave their stuff and walk the 27k to the main road. In the end I said no, let's give it another day and we went to bed. At 3:15 Simon gave a yell, 'The car is coming!' Sure enough it was the chairman. His car had problems on the way so they nursed to back to town and made repairs. They then came and got us but since his starter was out we had to leave since he couldn't turn it off. Wouldn't you know it as we were about to leave Happy came running up with a catfish. He'd run to check his night lines as soon as he heard the car.

Some final thoughts on the trip. It is probably the last time in my life I will ever get to spend any time like that in the African bush. It is still there and despite poachers there are still animals in it which makes me glad. I would have gotten a walking stick sooner. It really helped keep off the thorns and in walking on rough terrain. Charlie sent a kilo of salt and two of sugar with me. I should have brought oil too. A bag of onions and a dozen head of cabbage would have been widely welcomed. Packets of tomato sauce and seasoning might have been nice. Because I only drank boiled water a kettle would have been nice. They took limited pots since they were in a carrying mentality. I came with a car and it would have not been a problem. For the life of me I can't think of anything I'd be able to do different about blisters.
If you are going to be in Zambia in early September and miles of trekking through the bush appeal to you, I'd suggest contacting Charlie via the West Lunga Trust website well in advance. I can't say you wouldn't regret it but I can say I don't.(a week later now that my blisters have healed)