Black Manes, Red Sand, Blue Namibian Sky

Mark loves cold-weather camping and on a recent trip to do just that, he was the happiest I had seen him in months. It was three days of frozen water, foggy breath, and building big campfires to sustain the necessary high level of coffee drinking one needs during winter in the Kalahari Desert. Plus, the lodge we camped in is the only place in Namibia that is home to black-maned lions. They are a breed that conservationists think will die out in about three decades because of two reasons: one, the black fur gene is recessive. Two, the land that travel guides call the Deep South of Namibia is majority owned by farmers, so lions that get past their fencing means the farmers shoot first and ask questions later. Thus, the local wildlife vets and conservationists monitor these lions carefully.

During our game drive, we noticed that the oryx acted especially nervous. More so than the springbok, who both live (survive) within the boundaries of the huge lion enclosure, which is about the size of 40,000 official size sports fields. Indeed, the springbok here DO have a distinct advantage of not dying because compared to wildebeest, oryx, or zebra, the lionesses do not find it worth their time to chase and kill them. Their meat would only fill the belly of one lion, two at most. Our guide, wearing nothing more than a hoodie and baseball cap in 2 degree (C) weather, happily mentioned this fact as we all huddled together in the early morning, wrapped in the truck's bright green blankets, ski hats and jackets.

Our drive started before the sun came up. We watched the sky turn from dusky grey to yellow to Namibian blue amid the low laying fog. It took a few hours for the sunlight to sharpen and define everything into shape, and we finally got to see the unique layout of the Kalahari Desert. We'd drive to the top of a sand dune and observe the vast landscape of thorny trees and bushes scattered among the orange sand and yellow grass, eyes peeled for lions. Each dune summit gave us moments of eager anticipation and hope of seeing them, but we mostly just surprised grazing animals on the other side. Leon, the guide, would then drive into the valley, the truck obediently following the carved tracks, like those of a roller coaster.

The first pride we found was sick and tired of people, having recently been darted and given a health check.  We attempted to follow them, including a lingering female who hadn't yet been accepted into the pride, but they were not about to stick around.

We later spotted a group of females lounging on a sunny patch of sand. Leon inched the truck as quietly as one can to get when driving a diesel Landcruiser, and shut off the engine. All we needed to do now was wait (some more) to see when the male would arrive. As soon as he did, we watched him get slapped by couple of lionesses before receiving affection and laying down to stare back at us. The lions were so chill and so beautiful, but it took only one yawn, and the stretch of their powerful legs to remind me they were not the kind of animals to be trifled with. 

Bait

The greeting

Red breasted shrike

Meerkats

Kalahari Red

Wildebeest

Oryx on the run.
Photo credit: David

Big fires. Big.