This morning, the gang had our usual meeting at 5:30 with our shaman to go see some animals. Today was particularly chilly, but I was quickly warmed up by a special someone. A safari ride would not be complete without spending time with our ride-or-die’s, OG’s since day uno, best man and woman at our weddings, Mike and Chris. Today, Mike had treated himself to an earthy-toned fleece pullover because, hey, why not treat yourself? His “Navy” ball cap reminded any passing by lion that he can be a guy’s guy, but he can woo you in the bedroom with his baseball knowledge. Chris, bazooka camera in hand, was KILLING an all brown outfit with matching shoes. How does she do it? I swear this couple could show up in potato sacks and last season’s Prada flip flops and still outshine a leopard jumping through a flaming hoop doing long division.
What was I talking about?
Oh yeah, unfortunately, I had to find out that sweet, little Mikey is a blanket-hog. Did I ever think / want to know this about him? No and yes.
The morning went well, we saw four cheetah, some bush pigs, elephants, and the list goes on. However, Boshi, our spiritual guru, was attempting to track two lions, but to no avail. This guy, usually of a great demeanor and humor, was outwitted by these cats and was pissed. Eventually, we convinced him to come in for brunch, but he hasn’t been the same since.
We slurped up some food, had to break a guy’s heart who wanted to take us to go see the tent camp, and we went for our siestas. 2 ½ hours later, the gaggle of goons went to go meet Mig/Meg/Nick/Meck for our bike tour. Yeah, we wear athleisure like soft 6’s going to a 9 am class, but “practical” athleticism isn’t really our thing. We estimated that we hadn’t rode bikes in about 7 years, so what did we do? We rode for almost 20 kms. For those of you who don’t watch Top Gear, that’s a really long time to get to know your bike seat.
These bikes were stuntin, but they were made for some real mountain biking. The boys were slippin and slidin our way down loose rocks and quick sand. The worst part was the width of the bike seat. I know my behind isn’t in the shape it used to be in, but this seat was very thin and very aggressive. Initially, I wanted to lower my seat, to which our shaman responded by raising it higher. Apparently I don’t know anything about bikes. What I do know is these seats were quite invasive, and I feel as if I have a moral obligation to bring the seat back, show it my hometown, and introduce it to my grandparents. I’ll be sure to wipe it off first.
If you’ve made it this far, I’m truly impressed, grateful, and worried about you. We are off to begin our long trek homeward tomorrow via the local bush plane then a flight from Johannesburg. However, we’ll have one more post on the ground in New York full of both sentimental and sleep-deprived commentary.
Having finally learned how to spot an African elephant,
Christian “Look! A group of elephants,” Josef “Oh, there’s a little baby elephant,” & Hans “That baby elephant has 5 legs! Oh. Wait.” Braunfisch