Hiking Spitzkoppe

Spitzkoppe

The granite slopes of the Spitzkoppe Mountain Range begin with a confidence building gentleness. Texturized footing and its wide, low-grade incline allows even the most unstable toddler to easily ascend up the rock faces. I didn't worry when we pitched our tents at campsite #14, nestled among the mountain base. The ease of exploration meant all of the kids and dogs could explore relatively unsupervised, save they kept an eye out for snakes and could see the parked cars at all times. Margo went one way with Jim at her heels, David the other. He was determined to teach his two-year-old camping buddy how to "climb the basics" which he did all weekend with an impressive amount of confidence and patience. 

We explored the famous rock bridge that perfectly framed views of Spitzkoppe Peak (1,728m/5,669ft) on one side, or the Pontok Mountains on the other. No one who visits Spitzkoppe can resist taking a photo of this quintessential Namibian highlight. We hiked to the rock pool that collected enough rain water that allowed for the dogs to hydrate and cool themselves off. No matter where or when we hiked, the views of surrounding peaks were spectacular and always seemed to be changing. Even more, the views were addicting. I couldn't get enough. 

So when it came to take our traditional Schlink family hike, I enthusiastically geared up. Margo and Jim led the group during the initial phase. I followed, thrilled that my normally reticent hiking daughter, was in charge. Unfortunately, David's normal amiability disappeared and was replaced with anxiety. After about 45 minutes of hiking, he and Mark decided hike to the bottom and walk around the mountain instead. In retrospect, we should have all descended together, but I couldn't believe my daughter's goodwill so she, Jim, and I continued our traverse. 

It took only one misstep. Forever the leader of the pack, Jim ended up sliding down a portion of the mountain that I couldn't get to without endangering myself, and more importantly, Margo. We were separated by no more than 2 feet of impassible rock face. I parked Margo onto a flat, safe, surface where a few sun-drenched plants lived, tossed off my backpack, and attempted to crab walk downish and sideways to the invisible edge that Jim went over. He peered up at me, waiting for me to do something. Anything. Earlier, I didn't think there could ever be a bad view of Spitzkoppe, but I quickly changed my mind. This view sucked. 

As an accident prone individual, I am very familiar with falling, sliding, and getting banged up as a result. Because of my many practices in carelessness, I am also intimate with the sensation of instability. This was one of those moments. Jim was so close. I could feel my stomach drop and my shoes brace unwillingly to the rock, daring me to even take a breath. I had nothing to grab onto and no way to slide down. Even if I did, there was no way I would be able to climb back up. I nearly threw up at the thought of leaving Jim, but in order to get him to safety at all, Margo and I had to find another way down. It meant going back from whence we came. 

My brave girl did everything I said without question. I promised her (and Jim, though how do you communicate that to a dog?!) that no one was getting left up here, and that we needed to hurry. Jim had shade on his side, but anyone who knows Namibian desert knows water is always the bigger issue. It's not like I could just leave him a water bottle. We hiked back to where we could see Mark and David impatiently pacing at the bottom, wondering where the hell we were. Luckily, my voice carried well, and the two of them were able to run around the base and up another slope where they could see Jim, perched about two hundred feet above them. At first, he tried to scramble straight down to get to his people, but always a good boy, Jim stayed when Mark commanded him to do so. Once they were safely reunited, rested, and watered, they met me and Margo just as we finished coming down. 

I learned a few lessons on this trip: I learned that Jim still loves hiking despite the danger he got himself into. Even as an experienced hiker, I will think twice about splitting up the group from now on. I learned that I can power through anxiety (though I needed to deal with that after we got Jim back). I leaned I can make important, informed decisions even in emergencies. I learned that I can and should trust my instincts. I learned, or rather reinforced the idea, that Mark and the kids (and hopefully Jim) will always have my back. And I, theirs. 

Spitzkoppe Peak

No bad views here.

Spitzkoppe approaching sunset
Credit: Mark

My life, my friends
Credit: Mark

Rock Bridge
Credit: Mark

Jim, Margo, Mark

Lil' Red

The view before the drama.

Jim in 7th heaven. Not real heaven.

Road leading away from the rock bridge.

Buddies. Most of the time.

Pangolins at R.E.S.T.

It isn’t very often that people talk about the cuteness of long tongued, scaly creatures that can roll themselves into tight little balls. But maybe we should. Namibia is, after all, a country with rare and fascinating species hidden throughout the land. This includes the pangolin, an anteater famous for its unique integumentary with keratin scales that cover the body. Keratin is a fibrous, structural protein found most often in hair, horns, claws, and hooves. People love adding keratin to hair and nail treatments because it reduces frizz and supports structural integrity. 

Pangolins love it because the material forms a protective shield like a suit of armor. When a pangolin is threatened, it rolls into a ball forcing its tapered and very sharp scale tips into the air. Keratin makes a decent defense mechanism, internally and externally. Africa and Asia are home to eight species, and Namibia has one that is known as the Cape pangolin, Temminck’s pangolin, or the ground pangolin. A Dutch zoologist humbly named it after himself in the early 1800’s. At any rate, these reptilian-like mammals love a diet of insects that are easily sucked into the mouth with the use of its tongue, which is about the length of the pangolin itself.

Ground pangolins walk on their hind legs, which makes them look extra adorable when they amble side to side.They stand like a stooped and earnest retiree, with their forelegs and curved claws tucked into the chest. Their shiny dark eyes and button noses make them look extra innocent. Researchers once thought that babies were born with soft scales which harden after being introduced to extraterrestrial life. Now they think, according to Maria, Director of the Rare and Endangered Species Trust (REST), is that pangolins when under stress (like in captivity) tend to give birth prematurely and the scales actually should harden in-utero. 

Why does this fact matter? A few reasons: one, the internet isn't always correct. Two, animal experts know very little about pangolins, and that is a problem because they are listed as “critically endangered” and are the most trafficked animals in the world. Hunted for their meat and scales, pangolins are coveted and used in traditional medicines. They are in huge demand in China and Vietnam. Though an international ban on trade should protect them, illegal hunters still collect them by the hundreds. Conservation efforts are underway, but other factors such as illness in captivity, ulcers, pneumonia, and intestinal worms can inhibit a pangolin’s ability, and desire to reproduce. They are very sensitive, easily stressed creatures.

REST is based out of Outjo, a 3-hour and 45-minute drive north on the B1 (or from our drive out of Vic Falls, a 13 hours drive). This non-profit organization focus- es on conservation efforts especially aimed at the Forgotten Five: cape griffon vulture, cape pangolin, dwarf python, spotted rubber frog, and the Damara dik dik. It’s the only center in the world where baby Cape pangolins have been raised successfully and monitored until prepared for full release. REST offers lodging and tours by reservation only, and is considered the best opportunity to see rehabilitated pangolins. Honey Bun and Amos are their current pangolins. Maria speculates that Honey Bun might be ready for release, and at the time of our visit had been on a three day walkabout.

Amos, however, is a lifer. He had broken leg and ripped out scales when he arrived. Vets thought he'd die within the week, but the lil' guy made a big turn around, accepting food from his caretakers, something that rarely happens. Though his leg has mended, Amos still walks with a limp, limiting his ability to walk the required 5-6 hours to get enough ant or termite nutrition. He can only walk up to two hours before he needs to be carried home. Amos literally has a personal walker that follows his path whenever out and about to ensure his safety. Mark named the sport "Wranglin' the Pangolin" as we followed Amos through thorny brush and ridiculous amounts of overgrowth. He finally took rest under thick under thick branches that made picking him up quite difficult. We all walked away in fading light, bleeding and covered in splinters, but happy.  Later that night the BBC would be filming Amos and the REST employees for a pangolin special. 

Yes, the pangolin was the main attraction, but REST also has a few other animals either on the mend like Max the warthog, and a few owls who arrived injured, or there permanently, such as the two cape griffon vultures who came from a bird show based out of casino in Johannesburg. They tried to release one of them after making a full recovery, but the bird kept coming back. So now it stays. Some of the other vultures have busted wings and cannot fly. REST's goal is 100% release, and receive different kinds of animals from all over the country, and may or may not have the same residents each week. 

Jacky is another lifer. An abandoned jackal pup, REST has attempted to tame Jacky and use him as a teaching opportunity when the non-profit does outreach and fundraising events. They do need money to treat and feed the animals, after all, so fundraising is a necessary part. And, for anyone who thinks conservation efforts are cozy and altruistic, you'd be wrong. Competition for money, resources, and attention is fierce and not always friendly. 

A tour at REST requires booking in advance, but is easily done. The tour is worth the money (55 USD) too, as the employees are amiable and have a lot of knowledge to share. Or you can book a stay at their camp site or bungalows, which allow for a personalized tour as well. We were the first ones to stay in their newly constructed bungalows. The rooms are tastefully decorated, the beds are comfortable, and they provide a mini fridge, a braai, and dishes and towels. REST asked us for some pointers on improving the bungalow, and we suggested an electric kettle and floor fan. There is no AC, they do not intend to put it in, preferring to keep things simple and low cost. At one point we all laid on the concrete floor in our underwear, sweating out the afternoon hours before going on our tour, but overall it was a fantastic stay and the tour was 100% entertaining and valuable. If anyone comes to visit before our departure in August, we will definitely make a point to visit REST again. 

Jacky the Jackal

Bird tracker.

Pets/practice samples for when the birds
 are released and need to practice hunting. 

Amos waking up after his nap.
He gets measured and weighed every day.

Per Maria, Amos absolutely LOVES being pet.

Amos on his walk.

Another one of those damn amazing sunsets.

Victoria Falls

Vic Falls

@Three Monkeys Restaurant

Victoria Falls is a darn good waterfall. Majestic, huge, and loud, we joined the masses of other tourists to walk the Zimbabwe side of the park, enjoying views that accompanied the constant, cool spray, massive rainbows, and thousands of gallons of voracious water plummeting into the gorge below. Historic records indicate March is when the levels should be so high you can't see your hand beyond the mist, and the back-spray should be seen even from the town of Vic Falls. For March 2019, the water level was neither too high nor too low and the legendary Devil's Pool contained many thrill seekers hopefully avoiding a gruesome death, which we could see across the way. (On the Zambia side, you can pay extra money to ford the part of the river and rest in a natural pool that sits directly at the edge of the falls.) When the 13 minute helicopter rides weren't thumping over head, we could hear the water crashing into the bottom from the hotel pool. 

From Namibia, many people prefer to arrive by plane because it takes less than two hours to fly. The drive from Windhoek takes roughly 15.5 hours, not including border crossing wait times. For us though, we had been desperate to visit the northern stretch of Namibiawhich is vastly different from anywhere else in the country, so we filled up the car and made our way to the town of Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, over 3 days. The route included 4 border crossing stops (exit Namibia, enter Botswana, exit Botswana, enter Zimbabwe), 4, national parks, 4 gas stops, and stopping for countless animals crossing the road, including elephants.

We stayed in the town of Vic Falls for two nights, which was more than enough time to see the tiny city, the falls, and engage in few other activities. One of the activities we signed up for was a Zambezi River sunset cruise. Though we did see some wildlife and enjoyed a pretty sunset, I regretted that decision because the theme for the evening was getting drunk people even drunker on a pontoon boat. It was a painfully boring slog with nothing to see but a few hippo nostrils and a distant giraffe, combined with creeps harassing Margo about her red hair. 

On another venture, we took the kids to a crocodile farm and snake exhibit while we waited for lunchtime. Despite the fact that dozens of crocodiles were divided into three-foot high cement wall enclosures with a pathetic amount of fetid pond water, most of which were farmed to make leather goods, the park wasn't too shabby. Well, their lion enclosure was depressing and small. But the kids held one year old crocodiles and we watched a feeding where the guide dangled chicken meat over the wall with a stick. Crocodiles would jump out the water, snapping their jaws shut with impressive finality. Unfortunately, it was during the feeding that Mark's camera hood bumped the wall, sending it into the murky water forever. "Not getting that back" was all he could say in the matter.

The best part was the snake exhibit. We saw something like thirty different snakes in glass cages, including some good ol' american copperheads and diamond backs. We saw black and green mambas, boomslangs, and every other famous south African serpent. To their utter delight, the kids got to hold one of the tame ones. I couldn't tell you which one because I could only focus on the fact that the snake kept trying to crawl into David's armpit.

We ate mediocre food at expensive restaurants that preferred to take USD or Rand instead fo the local currency. We drank at The River Brewery Company which had decent beer, and attempted a self-proclaimed "nanobrewery" that only had warm beer and tired people leaning against the bar eating pap, mahangu porridge. Otherwise, we drank 5 USD Zambezi Lager or water that cost the same (tap water in Vic Falls is perfectly safe, but unless you clarify tap water, we learned, they'll hand you a pricy bottle of Bon Aqua.) 

Though we could have structured our time differently and integrated more activities in our schedule such as bungee jumping, zip lining, or taking a helicopter ride, we were content with walking the path in the park. Deets did wistfully ask if he could be put in an alligator cage and see the gators underwater at a different croc farm, but once we pointed out the stink from the previous one, he agreed it might not be the best thing to do. 

Before we knew it, the two days were up and we faced driving the 1,441 km home. There would be a grand finale though - in four day's time, after the kids patiently dealt with our "just one more game drive" pleas (which they disliked), and bird viewing cruises (which they loved), we'd get a chance to see a pangolin at the Rare and Endangered Species Trust located outside Outjo, Namibia...

Squacco Heron

On the highway through Victoria Falls National Park.

Zimbabwean stink bug.

Booze cruise with 100% pure Zambezi lager.

Nano-brewery: smaller than a microbrewery
and without crafted beer of any sort.

Northern Namibia Road Trip

During the school term break, Mark and I took the kids on a massive road trip from Windhoek to Victoria Falls. Our intentions were simple: to get a feel for the tropical version of Namibia, and to see a big-ass, famous waterfall. It would take us 1,441 km (895 mi) of tar road, from thirsty landscapes, to farms, to river rich jungle. We'd drive through 4x4 restricted park reserves, and float on pontoons in hippo and croc infested waters, and forced to stand still whilst watching the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. There's always going to be "one more thing" we want to see, and though we still have about 6 months left at post, it was also the trip meant to prepare us for the long goodbye, as we frequently make in the Foreign Service.

From Windhoek to Otiwarongo, the Namibian landscape ranges rises and falls along the Khomas Hochland Plateau, and melts into the Central-Western Plains. Distant mountains and hills on either side of the highway contrast the monotonous blur of thorny trees, shrubs, and grasses. There are miles of barb-wired fences separating the properties and sometimes we can see the sequestered game such as springbok, wildebeest, or kudu, or escape artists dangerously skirting the berm next to the tar 2-lane road. Hundreds of warthogs also dot the berm as they eat leaning on their elbows, and rumps in the air. It's the B1 highway, where supposedly everyone follows the posted speed limit of 120kph (75mph). It's the most traveled road for anyone headed north or south, so after the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th time driving it, it's kind of boring. 

After the 2.5 hours to Otjiwarongo, the B1 splits into northwest and northeast directions. We split right, headed to Otavi, one point of the isosceles "Triangle" with Tsumeb (B1) and Grootfontein off the B8. It's a triangle of expansive green farms, mineral mining, and the gateway to the Otavi Mountains which you notice almost immediately. The uncharacteristically green mountains are notched by dramatic cliffs and stratified brown-orange rock formations. Among the spread of peaks is Ghaub Cave with its underwater lake, and ancient rock carvings. It's deep, dark, and dangerous, a perfect experience for hard core spelunkers. Maybe it would be another trip for another time (NO. WAY.)

For outer-space lovers, The Triangle is also home to the Hoba Meteorite, a giant slab of metallic rock that was excavated in 1920 after a farmer's plow scraped the top of it. An estimated 66 tons, it looks like a big piece of burned lasagna (from its iron content) from a distance. Up close, the shine of nickel and cobalt is evident from the hundreds of slice marks it has suffered from vandals. Though a quick 10 minute visit is all that is required to see Hoba, it's an excellent detour from the B8 (about 30 extra kilometers). 

The northeastern tour continues through Grootfontein (2.5 hours from Otjiwarongo) a town that seems nice with its strip mall and jacaranda lined streets. Once topped off with gas, the remaining 2.5 hours worth of driving to Rundu would prove to be physically painful from all of the sitting, but also the most interesting visually. The fences and expanses of farmland disappear, replaced by expanses of makalani palm, baobabs, and marula trees, and small plots of corn or mahangu in between. Tiny homes are constructed of local materials such as clay, wood, or grass, without obvious signs of indoor plumbing and electricity. Cone shaped, thatched roofing sit atop the homes that sleep up to four people. 

Pedestrians are also seen in abundance as they make their way to/from home, work, or school. Many carry plastic containers, likely headed to the nearest well, others with multiple bags filled from visits to the city. With decent timing in the morning or afternoon, hordes of children are seen out and about on the roadsides, usually wearing smart, matching school uniforms. Brightly colored dresses and skirts for the girls, shorts and button down shirts for the boys. The kids are either barefoot, or wearing white socks with black shoes though everyone else seem to wear flip flops. As usual, the wee ones linger behind the older children who make their way home, but it is evident that they all look out for each other, and few are seen playing in the road. Goats and cattle, however, cross the road in a fashion leisurely enough to force drivers to a complete stop. 

The B8 has roadside vendors selling hand-carved wooden and soapstone animals. The sell miniature and large canoes, locally called mokoros, and decorative mobiles. There's also pottery of various sizes and uses. Most often seen are bundles of wood for sale. Further north and northeast, the bundles of wood turn into bundles of dried reeds and grass that were harvested from the many rivers that  contain actual water (in addition to crocs and hippos). The reeds are frequently used to make fencing or shade, whereas the grass can be weaved into mats. Bargaining for these various items is expected, and often draws enthusiastic participation, especially if the shopper is clearly from out of town or has no idea "how it's done." Once a price is proposed, the sellers shout back to their cohorts in their mother tongue. If accepted, the seller and whatever children are hanging around give head nods, and the transaction is completed. 

After you hit Rundu, the B8 turns east for about 634 km (394 mi) to the Botswana border. It's mostly a straight line that is dotted with people, homes, and farm life, but at the same time, passes through unfenced national parks, Bwabwata and Chobe, which flow into Angola and Botswana.  The former has three core areas that offer 4x4 trails along the Okavango River called the Mahango Core Area, Buffalo Core Area, and Kwando Core. All three are worth exploring either by personal vehicle or organized game drive if staying at a nearby lodge. While you might not get as many wildlife sightings as Etosha, the lush greenery, water, and solitude more than make up for it. These factors make for more interesting photos. 

Our big hope was to see the last of the Big Five, the cape buffalo. We were also hoping to get lucky and see cats or wild dogs, but neither happened. However, while driving in through thick orange sand on our way to a delta plain, we were surrounded by more elephants than I have ever seen in my life. We checked off nearly every bird in our bird book, and saw families of vervet monkeys, Windhoek's equivalent of baboons in this neck of the woods. A few antelope species were new to us too, including tsessebe and reedbuck. Each with distinct markings, but all with the classic deer-in-the-headlights stare. 

We drove and saw animals until we were numb in our butts and brains. Looking back week later, I would definitely do it again.

 Round trip from Windhoek to Victoria Falls was about the same as driving
one way from Denver to Washington DC. 

Investigating Hoba Meteorite after a hefty rain.

Caution: wild dogs on the B8

Cattle and farmers on the Okavango River.

Fog at sunrise on the Okavango River.

1 of 100,000 pachyderms in the Bwabwata National Park, off the B8.

Minding our manners off the Kwando River.

What fairytales are made of.

Maybe it was the double gin & tonic, but the (unfiltered) sunsets here
 bring about many emotions.

Day lily.

Voldemort, who?
Credit: Mark

HP in the Forbidden Forest.

Swallow tailed bee eater.

Observing their territory.

Claiming their territory.

White fronted bee eaters on the Kwando River.

Water monitor on the Okavango. 

Pied Kingfisher
Credit: Mark

African fish eagle
Credit: Mark

Vervet family
Credit: Mark

Woodland kingfisher

Evening mokoro ride.