Amidst the Lions - Chobe National Park, Botswana

January 1996

We were lucky enough to meet two South African fellows who had a pickup up truck and were willing to let us go along with them on an all day adventure inside the park. This was great since otherwise we would have had to pay for a guide and only gotten a two hour game drive. On top of that, one of the guys was a game guide down in South Africa so he knew quite a lot. Soon after entering the park, our "guide" spotted a tree full of vultures, with additional vultures circling overhead. This must mean a lion kill. So we made our way over there and sure enough, there was a dead cape buffalo at the foot of the tree with a pride of lions resting in the shade nearby. They had made the kill the previous night and were resting in the trees during the heat of the day. They would come out at dusk to feed. So we explored other parts of the park seeing a multitude of elephants, giraffes, and impalas, and came back near dusk. We pulled off the road and parked the truck about 20 yards from the kill. We soon found ourselves surrounded by 8 lions - 3 lionesses, 4 nearly full grown cubs, and a smaller cub. Now remember that this was an open pickup truck. The driver was in the cab, but the rest of us, four passengers and the guide, were in the flatbed. We were completely vulnerable and at the mercy of the lions. Our guide held a three foot length of chain in his hand, but I can't imagine it would have made a difference if the lions decided that we were unwelcome. Fortunately, this pride was pretty used to people since they lived near the park entrance and thus saw lots of people and their vehicles. Also, they were well fed. However, our guide did caution us not to lean over the side of the truck or to stick any body parts over the side of the truck. Apparently, animals tend to ignore vehicles, but once the form of the vehicle is broken by protruding body parts, they are more apt to act aggressively. We sat in silence and watched in absolute awe as the lions, seemingly oblivious to our presence roamed about, coming as close as 5 yards to the truck. The smallest cub spent most of the time feeding on the cape buffalo. Two of the lionesses stood guard near the road, while the older cubs playfully hid in the grass and chased each other around. In the distance the sun was setting, turning the sky a deep red. A beautiful African sunset, but we hardly noticed. We must have spent only about 20 minutes with the lions but it seemed like we were there for an hour. Every moment was filled with so much tension and anticipation. Unfortunately all vehicles had to be off park roads after dark, so we reluctantly left the lions and made our way out of the park. This was easily the most exhilarating experience on my life.

Grizzly Evening - Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming

August 1999

It was just before dusk as we entered Yellowstone National Park from the East Entrance, and the roads were still wet from the thunderstorm that had just passed. We were cruising down the mountain road when we saw a bear browsing on some flowers along the side of the road. As we passed it, I saw that it was unmistakably a grizzly bear. It had the characteristic hump on its shoulder and a sloping back. I had seen some black bears before in the Canadian Rockies, but this was the first grizzly I'd ever seen. Excited, I found the nearest parking area and pulled off the road. It was too dark to get a good photo with my 300mm zoom lens, and I certainly didn't want to approach the bear on foot. So we got in the car and drove back down the road. Gene rolled down the passenger side window and took some photos with his 28mm wide angle lens. We were probably less than 5 yards away from the bear, but he continued to ignore us. We followed him down the road for a bit, and eventually he lifted his head and looked at us as if to say, "Hey, leave me alone". That was enough warning for us, and we were off. The adrenaline didn't subside for several minutes.

Bison Jam - Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming

August 1999

The bison of Yellowstone National Park are infamous for causing traffic jams. Early one morning, we were driving on the Grand Loop Road in Hayden Valley heading towards Canyon Village when we encountered a bison jam. The herd of approximately 100 bison were split on either side of the road, with animals crossing back and forth continuously. They were not traveling from one side to the other, so we could not just wait until they all crossed and continue on. As cars began to pile up in both directions, it became clear that we weren't going anywhere for a while. So I turned off the engine, sat back and just watched the bison. There were enormous bulls, small calves, and just about everything in between. All were browsing in the sagebrush flats, enjoying their breakfast. They were either oblivious to the traffic jam they were causing, or just didn't care. I'm more inclined to think it was the latter. Some of the people were getting a little restless and impatient. They maneuvered their cars around, trying to find a way around the line of cars and the bison. There was no way. I thought it was funny that some people just didn't understand that this was part of being in Yellowstone and that there was no sense in getting impatient over it. Besides isn't the point of coming to Yellowstone to see wildlife? What was their hurry? There were people honking their horns. What was that supposed to accomplish? Every once in a while, the bison would look up at the cars honking. If bison could smirk, I think they would have. And is it really a smart thing to anger a two thousand pound animal capable of running thirty miles per hour? I think not. There was even one man, with his family in the car, who decided enough was enough and pulled into the oncoming traffic lane. He bolted ahead only to have two large bison step into his path. The bison stood facing the car, standing shoulder to shoulder, their eyes burning a hole in the windshield. It was as if the bison were acting as traffic marshals. I just started laughing. The funniest part was that very soon after that, the bison traffic eased enough for cars to begin passing through. As I passed the car, still in a stalemate with the two bison, I laughed to myself at the predicament he had gotten himself into. If only he had a little more patience!

Suicidal Tendencies - Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming and near Talkeetna, Alaska

August and October 1999

For some reason, animals seem to have a tendency of jumping out in front of fast moving cars just at the last moment. It is as if they are playing a game. A game which unfortunately, they sometimes lose. Interestingly, drivers in Boston also seem to have this tendency of pulling out of driveways and intersections at the last possible moment. But that is another story altogether.

We had pulled off onto the shoulder to see the Pronghorn Antelope, the only antelope species in North America. There was a pair just off the side of the road and another pair about 200 yards away on the other side of the road. We were on the Baseline Flats in Grand Teton National Park in Wyoming. I was following the pair near the road on foot and was able to get to within about 20 yards of them. Walking around on the sagebrush flats was sometimes a challenge because of the thorny bushes, especially while looking through a camera lens and trying to make as little noise as possible. All of a sudden, the pair on the other side of the road began sprinting. It was a marvel to see these beautiful animals at full sprint. They are the fastest land mammals in North America and can reach speeds of up to 50 miles per hour. Why they decided to all of a sudden take off, I do not know. But as their path began to curve left towards the road, I noticed that a car was cruising along the road on an intercept course. I kept looking between the antelope and the car, realizing more and more that they were going to hit. It was unlikely that the driver of the car could see the pronghorns. As they approached, I braced myself for the inevitable collision. Just as the antelope entered the roadway, the brakelights on the car lit up as the driver finally saw what we had been watching for what seemed like minutes. The pronghorns crossed barely in front of the car, and safely onto the other side of the road. To my uneducated eye, it looks as if it was a game that the two antelope had decided to play. A game with potentially deadly consequences. Why else would they try to cross just in front of a car when there were no other cars in sight, and therefore plenty of safe places to cross elsewhere?

I was witness to another close call about 5 miles from Talkeetna, Alaska. I was driving about 100 feet behind another car on a small two lane road, bordered on both sides by thick brush. All of a sudden, a huge cow moose and her calf emerged from the brush and bolted onto the road. The car in front slammed on the brakes. The cow was leading and crossed in front of the car in front of me, missing by only a couple of feet. The calf, wisely pulled up just at the last second, and stayed on the shoulder. Had the calf not been able to stop itself, it would certainly have been hit by the car. Everyone, including the moose I'm sure, was a bit shaken but there were no injuries.