Gorilla Tracking – More Than I had Bargained For

November 23, 2009

So here I am the morning of the gorilla tracking, about 24 hours after having left Kampala, the capitol where I am living, and already I feel as if I have had enough adventure for a week-end! The gorilla tracking permit costs $500 dollars per person per day and I had seriously hesitated about going because of the costs and concern about my physical ability to track for hours in a mountainous forest. But Larry, my trusted tour guide and loyal support person, reassured me that they had arrangements for people of all physical capabilities and repeated “This is the only place in the world (aside from Rwanda) where you can be in the wild with the gorillas.” And both tour books and other tourists had come away saying it was worth it.” So, I figured “Why, not? It is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Then, of course there was the added cost of the trip itself. With Larry the cost would be an additional $300 in addition to the permit. Although this seemed a bit high, given that we were just driving to and from the forest and staying one overnight, Larry assured me it was a very, very long trip and this was a reasonable sum. My own perusal of the web indicated that this was significantly lower than any other agency was charging, so I went ahead with the plans.

As the time for going on the trip came closer, and my schedule has become really, really tight (trying to finish up the grant proposal before I go, visit Burundi, do some training relevant to the proposal, etc.) I was beginning to regret committing two whole days to a gorilla tracking which would involve at most 3 hours in the forest and probably one hour with the gorillas themselves. But I had paid my money (the permits are very limited for reasons of care for the gorillas – the rumor is that next year they are going up to $1000 each, do you believe?) so the die was cast.

Larry said we needed to leave the house at 6 am. This seemed unnecessarily early to me, but I figured it was a loose 6 am (African time) and set my clock for 6 am. We left the house at 7 am and drove and drove. The national highway, which we took part of the way had some smooth spots where we could go a maximum of 50 mph and then there were the places where there are speed bumps and you can't go more than 10 mph or you damage your vehicle. And then there are the places that are technically paved but there are so many potholes that again you are limited to around 10-15 mph. And then there are the unpaved roads! From previous expeditions, I was used to the jarring from driving on deeply rutted unpaved roads during the rainy season before the re-grading equipment goes by to smooth out the roads, but this time these deeply rutted roads with no shoulders were adjacent to precipitous drops as we crawled through the magnificent mountainside. The landscape was amazing. All around us we saw terraced land where local people were raising crops on the shockingly steep land. I could see why the many goats we passed were quite comfortable, but how did the people manage not to slip and fall, walking barefoot or with flip-flops I wondered.

Well, we arrived at the campsite at around 10 pm, having driven about 300 miles in 15 hours! What a trip! It was lovely, though, and it was also fun driving past the small villages in and around the forest where the children smile enthusiastically and wave hello, as if our driving by is a major event of the day for them.

The other adventure of the day concerned my gorilla tracking permit. Larry had given me the permit, saying “Put it in a safe place. This is your proof that you paid and can go.” So I put it in the container holding my passport, proof of yellow fever immunization (which I need to be able to re-enter non-Yellow Fever countries), and my dwindling supply of US dollars. The morning of the departure Larry said “Don't forget to bring your passport! I dutifully went and retrieved my passport but didn't think at all about the tracking permit! The reality is that Larry has been taking care of all the details of our trips – all I have had to do is bring my money, camera and clothes and he takes care of the rest. I really gave no thought to the permit.

It wasn't until we were 10 hours out of the capitol, that Larry asked “You have your permit don't you?” Oh, no! All this time – 2 wasted days of traveling and $800 for permit and tour, wasted because of a piece of paper. Would they believe that I had paid just from my saying so? The tracking is supposed to begin at 8 am and the office in Kampala where they have the records doesn't open until 9 am. And today is a Sunday, to boot. Larry got on the phone to the Uganda Wildlife Authority in Kabale, which was where we were having dinner and said “We will be there in 5 minutes.” The office was supposed to close at 5 pm and it was already 5 pm now. We got there at 5:15 and the guy was still there and quite friendly. Larry thought he might have the receipt for the permit which would indicate that I had paid, but not what date I was authorized to go on. It's a long story why the receipt was in his backpack rather than a file at the agency's office, but by some miraculous coincidence the receipt was in his backpack. Hallelujah!! And then, to make things even better, the receipt contained both the information about the date reserved for me to go tracking and the specific gorilla group I would be tracking. (There are 3 major groups and areas from which gorilla tracking takes place.) The guy at the Kabale office thought this would probably be enough proof for me to go, but the final decision would be made at the partk itself the next morning. Because of the huge amount of money involved in these permits, Larry was telling me that the employees, who are relatively well-paid by Ugandan standards, have no leeway or flexibility about following the rules. I can imagine how easy it would be for there to be a secretive market (“Hey, I will give you $100 if you let me join the group today”), so I was not completely certain that I would be able to go, until this morning, when the office person accepted the receipt and assigned me a spot on the tracking.

Then there was also the on-site arrival last night at our tenting lodge, called the Gorilla Friends Safari Lodge. I stayed in a large cabin-like tent containing 2 beds on a platform jutting out from the mountainside – absolutely beautiful! I don't feel especially steady on me feet on uneven ground so I made sure to walk carefully. A lovely young woman who brought tea and toast to my tent also left a Coleman lantern for me to use going to the bathroom. I had been warned that it would be cool in the mountains, and it was, but I was comfortable with the blankets and my warm clothes, which I used instead of my light nightgown.

It was fun to wake up to the beautiful scenery.

Note: The previous paragraphs were written the morning before the tracking began. The following was written three days later.

At 8:30 am the guide gave us the briefing for the tracking. He explained that the money we had paid for the tracking ( $125 for Larry because he is an East African national – this would be his first time gorilla tracking) would be 50% refunded if we tracked from 9:00 am to 6:00 pm without seeing a gorilla. What is he talking about?! I can't track in the forest for 9 hours!! Larry had said we would be done by noon, as had happened with the chimpanzee tracking. The guide also said that if we were not physically capable of returning on our own steam to the start point, we could always be carried out on a stretcher, paying extra for the service, of course. Now I started to get alarmed. Would I be up to this excursion? Well, I knew it all depended on where the gorillas are in the forest, and Larry said that I was signed up to track from this particular location because it was supposed to be an easier place from which to find the gorillas, so I reassured myself it would be OK. I asked the guide if I would be up to it, indicating my age and arthritic knees. He said that he has had 80-year olds go tracking with him. Of course, they were carried on a stretcher both ways. “Whew! Isn't that something? Don't you think if a person is so frail and weak that they need to be carried in a stretcher, maybe they shouldn't go tracking gorillas in a Ugandan forest?”, I judged. Little did I think... but wait, I am getting ahead of myself.

The guide also said that we should have a pack lunch with us, which we didn't because we were expecting to be done by noon. And, of course I didn't have hiking boots, because I don't own any. A Canadian hiker (my age but presumably more fit) whom I had met yesterday said they would be helpful. He had tracked for over two hours to see the gorillas but another group the same day had met their family of gorillas in 15 minutes. It turned out that Larry and I were the only ones tracking from our location so at least my slowness wouldn't be annoying to another party of trackers.

The guide asked if we wanted a porter, $15 plus tip. He said it was suggested if our pack weighed more that 8 pounds. I was pretty sure that our single pack for the two of us did not weigh that much and Larry offered to carry it. The guide also said that a porter was useful for pushing or pulling you if assistance was needed. I had difficulty visualizing that exactly and was uncertain about whether to hire one. Without strong encouragement to do so from the guide or Larry, I chose not to – at least for now. He could be hired after, if needed.

So, at 9:00 we set out on the tracking. After 15 minutes on a gravel road we started our first climb into the forest (remember these are “mountain gorillas.”) I took one look at the hill and told Albert, the guide, I think I would like a porter. I know that I am not as steady as I would like on my feet and I didn't like the idea of interfering with Larry's pleasure on the excursion by needing his continual support on the climb. Nicholas, my porter, soon joined us and I was immediately grateful for his supportive hand and arm as I climbed over roots, vines and rocks.

At 9:30 Larry asked Albert, “Isn't this the place where gorillas were seen last week?” “Yes, it is.” he said. “Where are the gorillas today?” I asked. “Well, the trackers haven't found them yet.” Hmm. The trackers are staff who go out early to where the gorillas were seen yesterday. They follow the trail and call in by radio to tell the guide where to bring the tourists. We were walking in the direction that the trackers thought they had headed. So, or course, there was no telling for sure when we would find them.

At 10:00, we passed a site where the gorillas had been seen a few days ago and were told that the gorillas had now been located by the trackers. They were still a bit away. And I was beginning to get really tired. At first it was only the uphill that was really hard – going up is always hard on my knees and my breathing. But we soon entered the forest where there was essentially no trail and I immediately saw why the forest had its name, if a little exaggerated – the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest. The overhead branches required stooping and pushing. The vines were so deep and tangled on the ground that my feet were continually getting stuck and needed extricating manually by myself or Nicholas. I fell so many times that I lost count. And this was with Nicholas' physical support.

Then we began this steep, long descent into the valley where the gorillas had been spotted. It truly seemed endless. Several times I became so discouraged I just thought - “Leave me here and pick me up when you are done. I just don't care about the gorillas anymore.” But Albert gently nudged me on. At several points he was supporting me on one side and Nicholas on the other. I was getting a blister on my foot, my shins were taking a bit of a beating from the falls, and there were some twists of the angle and bangs on the knees which reminded me of my vulnerability. And the deep piles of decaying leaves on the steep slopes made it impossible for me to hold a spot with my feet. It didn't seem like it would take a lot to completely disable me. The only saving grace was that miraculously enough it wasn't raining, even though we were in a tropical rain forest. Allelulia! It seems like there would have been no hope for my spending any time on my feet if the ground and leaves had been wet. Even Larry was falling a number of time.

“How much longer will it be before we get there?”, I asked. “It depends on how fast we move.” Logical enough. “And at our current rate?” “Maybe half an hour.” And then Larry translated some of the radio talk between the guide and the trackers for me. “The gorillas are on the move.” he said. “Tell them to wait for us. We are coming to visit.” “This is their home. We can't tie them on a rope.” Albert explained. “Why not?” I whined to myself.

Around 11:00 we reached the depths of the valley. “How will I ever get back up?” I wondered. “I just don't think I can make it.” It was so very hard coming down. I couldn't imagine going back up on my own steam. And I started to inquire about the stretcher alternative. If I wanted it, it would cost $200 and they would send 5 men plus a stretcher. How absolutely humiliating and embarrassing! What will people think? If I truly sprained an ankle or broke a leg, then it would be a necessity. But shear exhaustion – demoralization – is that sufficient reason to get a stretcher? It just seemed so colonial to me. White woman carried on the backs of 5 African natives. Yuk! Not the self-reliant, independent, resourceful image of myself that I like to connect to. What will my blog readers think?Maybe I could pretend that I had sprained my ankle, then no one would blame me for being carried out.

I wasn't even sure that I had $200 in cash, and of course there is no VISA usage. The nearest ATM machine was 3 hours away by mountainous roads. I pondered it for a while as we entered the swamp at the bottom of the valley. My shoes and pants were getting soaked.

At 11:30 we finally found them! Fantastic – now I didn't have to track any further was all I could think in the moment! And I tried to take in the joy of being within 10 feet of some of those famous mountain gorillas. We met three of the males; one dozing and the other two doing serious eating. They watched us and continued eating. It actually was kind of neat to be with them in their own environment and to try to imagine what their lives were like. They eat 50 pounds of leaves a day and prefer many of the leaves that grow high up, so they were quite busy pulling down branches and things to get to the tasty ones.

We had been told that if a gorilla approaches us we should not run but stay were we are, looking them in the face without staring. A guide would come between us and the gorilla to protect us. It sounded simple enough as I was sitting and watching. Until this 300 pound male quickly came to me. I grabbed the leg of the nearby guide and closed my eyes. I heard a tussle, felt a push and opened my eyes. Apparently, the gorilla had tried to push the guide out of the way to touch me. We had been told that Obia, the young male, was quite curious and perhaps because I was the only female or the only white person present I had caught his interest. The staff laughed. They clearly enjoyed this family whom they visited daily and enjoyed their relationship with them. The guide had resisted being pushed out of the way and then another guide distracted Obia away from us. What excitement!

As with the chimpanzees, our permit entitled us to 60 minutes with the gorillas, which the guide timed precisely.

Now was my decision time regarding the manner of my exit. I knew we were returning by a different route than we had arrived, but there was no way to avoid climbing to the altitude from which we had started. I told Larry I wanted to go with the stretcher. I just couldn't bear the thought of the exertion and pain that would be necessary for my to climb on my own and was grateful that I had the support of the wildlife staff as well as the personal resources to have a choice for some ease in the day.
Larry suggested that he could help me negotiate the price. Albert and I agreed that I would walk part of the way and I would be carried for a large chunk of the ascent for $125, which was good because I think I had that amount of money.

It turned out that the ascent was along a road-like path – no decaying leaves, overhanging branches or tripping vines. But it was long and steep and quite a challenge even for 35-year old Larry. For me, it was a little scary at times when I looked down and saw the angle of the ascent, but the porters were amiable and steady and it was not bad at all. Could I have made it if I had had to? Probably – but it would have taken several hours and a lot of determination. As it was, we were going to arrive back in Kampala at around 3:00 am (driving 12 hours on hard roads), just a few hours before I needed to get up for the plane right to Burundi and I did appreciate their support very, very much.

Was it worth $940 (including tracking permit, porter, stretcher, and tour expenses) to spend 60 minutes with the mountain gorillas in their own habitat? Certainly, the trip was memorable, at least as much for the emotional upheaval I experienced in the tracking as for the gorillas. Three days later I now have aches in my arms and shoulders from pulling and lifting myself as well as some in my legs, and an annoying thistle under the skin of my pinky. But I am doing fine and I feel so blessed in so many ways. I do have my health and access to resources and choices to protect my health, well-being and comfort that many do not have. At least my expenditure is supporting gorilla and ecosystem conservation (it really is – the Uganda Wildlife Association takes their responsibility quite seriously) as well as contributing to the local economy. What an adventure!