Maasai Mara, Kenya — Crossing the Sand River into Bush Country
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K. Lee Lerner
Maasai Mara, Kenya —Crossing the Sand River into Bush Country
Taking Bearings
scholar.harvard.edu/kleelerner
Maasai Mara, Kenya — I have crossed the Sand River into bush country.
Among the great natural wonders of the world, the Maasai Mara National Reserve in Kenya (also spelled Masai Mara) and the Serengeti National Park in Tanzania form a contiguous savanna of open range grasses with clumps of umbrella-like acacia trees and scrub.
Two flights by small prop planes from Nairobi were required to reach a short dirt airstrip located deep in the Mara.
I was very lucky. The government assigned me an armed game guard. Silas was waiting for me when I handed at the small grass airstrip.
Silas carried a rifle, which he loaned me when I took night watch, I had only my camera. The rife was “for poachers, not game,” he said.
Together in an open jeep, stopping from time-to-time to push or pull it it through muddy ruts caused by recent rains, we ventured across the Mara for two days and two nights before returning to small landing strip carved out of surrounding bush.
Even at the cusp of the migration season, recent terrorism in Kenya has greatly reduced visitors to both the Serengeti and Mara. The expanse seemed endless. During two long days of exploration, we crossed paths with only one truck parked near people setting camp and lunch under a tree. For the remainder of our time in the bush, it was truly wondrous isolation.
Well-guarded from poachers, the Mara is still wild, it’s a place a man armed only with a camera is easy prey. The grass was high, and navigation of faint trails perilous as they wound through clumps of brush that could easily conceal danger.
When afoot to photograph, Silas was constantly reminding me of my distance from the jeep. With the grass high, “One would not see Simba coming,” he warned.
Game and colorful birds abound in the Mara. You have to stalk to capture good photos. In my head ran a constant calculus integrating distance from the jeep, my speed, and my visibility for potential danger.
Such calculus was essential when we spotted a lioness and her cub sleeping in an isolated tree. From their perch the lions could easily survey the plain for prey. It was noon, hot, and a breeze took my scent away as I cautiously approached. It took me a half an hour to cover the 50 or 60 yards to the tree. It was the most thrilling stalk of my life. When I dared approach no closer, I knelt quietly and took several shots. When the cub began to stir, I retreating carefully, never turning my back on the lioness.
By a game crossing on the Sand River that was filled with hippos and crocodiles, I paused to eat an orange I had tucked in my pocket.
It was there that I took perhaps one of the most spontaneous and uncalculated of risks I have ever taken.
With Silas standing lookout on the bank above, I walked down a cut out in the bank out onto a sliver of dry and rocky stream bottom.
I could see crocs to my left and right and across a narrow inlet about 10 feet wide.
The crossing was a place where the cold-blooded crocs routinely warm themselves in 
the sun
Silas watched to keep me from being blindsided, while I focused on the increasingly nervous hippos that, despite their size, can be fast and deadly. He clearly nervous about the shot, and urged me to be quick.
When I laid down on the rocks to get a flat angle, however, Silas clearly had enough, 
“You must come back! Now!” he shouted.
Instantly, I was vertical and scrambling up the bank. At the top, when I turned, I saw a very large croc climbing out on the bank below. I realized then how vulnerable I had been while lying on the exposed rock by the stream. I still have uneasy dreams about less fortunate outcomes.
I did not realize until I returned to Cambridge and started to process my video footage, but while I was totally focused on a croc emerging a bit downstream a croc in the water about 10 to 15 feet in front of me turned, obviously eyed me, and then turned to swim obliquely to my left. It was only then that I understood another reason why Silas was so insistent that I get off the river bank. Crocs rarely come at you head one. They swim at a 90-degree angle and then make a sharp turn to attack. They are amazing fast on the ground. Had the croc in the water swimming out of frame attacked, it would have been a dicey proposition whether I could have gotten up the path to the top of the bank before he had me. That’s assuming he did not actually try to follow me up the path, of course.
I was profoundly humbled and in awe of the Serengeti and the Mara.
For more than two decades I have written about the importance of conversation and biodiversity, yet
I confess that an understanding of the richness of these ecosystems merely tugs at the surface of understanding, and that there is a deep and primal pull to this place. There is a call to the deepest part of your soul.
The old days of hunting are gone, but are remembered. I was content to take nothing away but few images and fond memories of the sounds and smells of Africa.
It was one of the grandest adventures of my life.
K. Lee Lerner on the Massai Mara. Kenya. June 2012
“Recognized for his use of language, accuracy, and balanced presentation, K. Lee Lerner’s portfolio covering science and global issues has garnered respected writing, book and media awards. His dossier spans every continent, includes two global circumnavigations, and features coverage from areas suffering civil war, violent protests, drought, famine, and disease outbreaks. That experience, built on a scholarly foundation in science, allows his evidence-based writing to bring clarity to chaotic and complex issues. Contributing editor of more than 40 academic books and writer and/or producer for more than two dozen major media projects, for more than three decades — across print, broadcast media, and digital platforms — Lerner’s ‘Taking Bearings,’ essays have ranged across the human intellectual enterprise. He has served on the board of advisors for the venerable American Men and Women of Science since 2003 and his Academia site (https://harvard.academia.edu/kleelerner)consistently ranks among those most frequently accessed by students, scholars, and decision makers from around the world.” — National Press Club biography.
Additional information and selected writings are available at scholar.harvard.edu/kleelerner, at https://blogs.harvard.edu/kleelerner/, and via harvard.academia.edu/kleelerner
Profile Photo: K. Lee Lerner. Maasai Mara, Kenya. June 2012. ©LMG.
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