I came, I saw, I conquered.
Julius Caesar

I have just returned to earth with eight other climbers after standing on the summit of Kilimanjaro, a 25 year dream come true for me. We are ready to celebrate with beers and lots of real food. The hard part is over and we will reward our efforts with another dream adventure, a safari in Ngorongoro Crater, the "Eden of Africa."

But first we assemble after dinner with our guides, for a "pep talk." They advise us that the drive to the crater will be a bit bumpy, and long, through primeval country pregnant with savage beasts and venomous snakes. They suggest we celebrate less and sleep more. And we, of course, smirk. Big deal. We just climbed to the roof of Africa!

I am up before daybreak and watch as a pale dawn exposes the surrounding landscape, a stark and seemingly endless expanse of rolling hills, cobbled with rock and sliced by rut. I look for a road and there is none. Between here and there are 100 miles of off-road! Yesterday's counsel begins to sink in. The sun, nevertheless, smiles with promise, and I am off to the jeep with a spring in my step.

And so it is that we assemble for the day's land cruise, nine self-satisfied summiteers, eager for a safari. But first, 12 hours on four wheels, equipped with engine, shocks, and seat cushions. The works! How hard can this be? We climb aboard with visions of a long nap. "Wake us when we get there."

From the first grinding of low gear it is apparent our guides spoke the truth. This will be an endurance test of mind and body, a succession of axle wrenching obstacles. And so it goes-falling, flying, tumbling in a stumbling jeep, for hour after endless hour. And we, in our private worlds of weariness, woe, nausea, and vertigo, have but one synchronized thought, "Are we there yet?"

The last half hour of this everlasting day is a slow but eneventful ascent to the rim of Ngorongoro Crater, over a primitive but most welcome road. Finally, we crawl out the vehicles, wild-eyed and wobbly, pale, and streaked about the face with rivulets of sweat. There is a strange feeling of betrayal despite the warnings. We speculate on what has been damaged most, flesh or ego. We are already discussing the return trip. After all, how hard can a hundred mile walk be?

 

After a few game drives on relatively smooth safari track our agitated nerves have calmed, so we pay a visit to this Masai village. Tall, stately shepherds, the Masai are struggling to hold on to their traditional way of life despite a rapidly advancing modern world.