Rwanda & Uganda: Chapter five
The mountain gorillas of Bwindi Impenetrable Forest.
Whoever named Bwindi Impenetrable Forest is a genius; it sounds like something out of The Princess Bride. I want to visit for the name alone; the opportunity to see mountain gorillas is a bonus.
Kenneth meets me early in the morning for the drive to Bwindi Impenetrable Forest. We pass through villages shrouded in fog and skirt valleys cradling clouds. Through the windows of the Pathfinder, we watch the dawn push mist through the trees, over hills, and into adjacent valleys.
There are few cars in the parking lot when we arrive at the southern entrance. A concrete structure sits atop a small hill; plastic chairs line terraced rows facing a small field. The lot fills as the sun rises and soon we have a quorum. A group of villages are introduced by a ranger. They sing songs and beat drums and dance as a prelude to our trek.
A brief orientation follows. We’re told our trek could last a full day or a few hours; it depends on how far the families we’re assigned to have traveled since they bedded down the night before. If we run into difficulty on our hikes, we can call in an African helicopter, which is comprised of a strapping young Ugandan who will come and carry you to and from the gorillas.
After the orientation Kenneth leads me to a group standing by a sign that reads Kutu, which means ear. It’s the name of the family we’re to visit, comprised of 19 members including two silverbacks and seven babies. I feel lucky to have been chosen to meet this clan.
Our group is formed of a newlywed couple from the UK, a soon-to-be-wed couple from the United States, a Dutch man on a six-month trip to discover the world, and a Ugandan guide taking advantage of a permit that was to go to waste when his guest decided not to use it. I’m asked if I’ve chosen the long hike; I wasn’t offered a choice, but I’m here for it.
Lorian introduces himself as our guide and then introduces Cynthia and Silva, the rangers that are to accompany us. Our hike is to begin from the parking itself, and after he checks to make sure we have our walking sticks and ample water we begin our hike on a well-trodden path that ascends continuously into the forest, Cynthia in the lead.
Lorian pauses often to make sure we’re drinking water. At one such stop he tells us that there will be a graduation ceremony at the end of the trek, provided we see the gorillas and make it back to the entrance. I ask him at what stage we are on the path of matriculation. Freshmen? Sophmores? Juniors? I’m trying to assess how much longer we have to hike.
He tells us it’s a zero to one situation. Either we see the gorillas and make it back to graduate or we don’t.
He points to the summit of a volcano in the distance. It’s called Mount Muhabura, which means ‘guide.’ In the past when people were hiking in the forest, they’d need only to climb a tree and spot the volcano to know in which direction to head.
At another stop Lorian tells us he has good news. He has us guess what it is. We’re close to the gorillas? No. The trackers have found the gorillas. And now we know where we’re headed.
Cynthia veers off the trail we are on to follow a narrow path that slices through the forest. Branches and vines pull at us as we try to pass. The path hugs the side of the mountain for a while before Cynthai leads us almost straight up to find another path that backtracks and climbs towards another crest. Crossing the mountain we find ourselves on a steep descent into a ravine on the other side.
Conrad, the Ugandan guide, is the first to spot the gorillas. One sits high up in the crook of a tree, some 30 meters away. Nearby, we rendezvous with the trackers. Lorian has us leave our walking sticks. To gorillas, they look like the spears that were once used to hunt them; we don’t want to appear as aggressors.
I follow a tracker into the woods and soon we see our second gorilla. They sit in the dense brush, happily munching on a twig.
Further on we spy a small cluster of adults and babies. On seeing us approach one of the babies climbs a nearby tree to observe us, pulling the leaves aside to get a better view. Lorian tells us they’re as curious about us as we are of them. One of the reasons our visits are limited to an hour is so that we don’t distract the babies too much from what they’re supposed to be doing as they grow up in the wild.
The baby’s curiosity satiated, they climb back to rejoin and play with the other children on the forest floor near the adults as they feed. As we observe them we being to realize there are more gorillas around us than we first thought as another gorilla emerges from the brush to our right to laze near the others. And just before us there are more, hidden by the leaves, made known to us only by the sounds they make as they shift their weight or grab at the vegetation to feed.
We wait for the gorillas to move before we move. We don’t want to accidentally find ourselves between groups that don’t want to be separated, especially with the number of babies around. In the distance, we see another baby sitting by itself on a bed of branches and leaves.
Once it’s safe to do so we walk to another part of the forest where we see two gorillas embracing in a nest of leaves. We watch the interplay play out between them as one grooms the other and then seems to lose interest, eventually pulling away to sit by themself.
Down the hill, we see a silverback sitting half-hidden in the leaves. Another gorilla sits nearby, almost completely hidden by the vegetation. He seems to be leaning against the hill, resting his bulk on the impenetrable ground.
A bit further on and closer to where we are the trackers have spotted the main silverback of the clan. We edge closer to it as it rests, surrounded by leaves. He casually reaches out to grab some and place them in his mouth and then, as if to show his disinterest in the crowd that has gathered to watch him eat he raises himself on all fours and lumbers further down the hill to sit at the base of a thick tree at the bottom of the ravine.
And then our time is up. I take a picture of Lorian just before we are to leave. We backtrack, following a path we had made to where a tracker is waiting for us with our walking sticks. He leads us back halfway up the ravine before we part. The trackers will spend the rest of the day tracking the gorillas until they make their beds for the night, after which they’ll leave them only to return in the morning to track where they’ve gone since they’ve awoken.
Lorian asks if any of us would like to guide us back. One of our group has been tracking progress on his watch. Lorian laughs and wishes him luck before taking the lead.
We climb the steep incline out of the ravine to find the path that brought us here, descending where we once ascended, and once again following the path along the mountain until we emerge onto the main trail.
There, at the confluence, Lorian asks us if we’re hungry. Tricia says she is and we applaud her bravery. None of us wanted to be the one to admit it. Tricia says it’s the New Yorker in her and I chuckle.
We sit on the ground and unpack what our lodges have offered us, comparing notes. Conrad sits without and I offer him half my sandwich. I tell him I don’t like to be too full when I’m hiking, which is true.
Lorian cuts our break short as he contemplates the skies. It’s become darker and more overcast and he’s concerned that it may start to rain. The walk back is almost a steady descent and we make good time, chatting with each other about our professions and our interests.
Nearing the parking lot a woman dressed in a colorful outfit appears as if out of nowhere and welcomes us back. I had been too caught up in my own thoughts to notice how far we had come.
Lorian tells us that we’ve all graduated having completed 110% of our requirements. I ask if that means we’ll get a refund on our tuition. He laughs and invites us back to the concrete structure where he conducts a graduation ceremony. He reads out our names and we come down to the front to accept our gorilla tracking certificates. We shake hands and hold them in front of us for photographs. It’s ridiculous and fun and a perfect conclusion to our trek.
On the drive back to the lodge I ask Kenneth if he’s seen the gorillas. He tells me that once a family of nine gorillas wandered right past his Pathfinder while he was waiting for guests in the parking lot we had just left.
At another time a similar thing happened as a family wandered to the edge of the forest near one of the other trailheads. He said he heard the children of the village shouting gorilla! gorilla! and went to see what the commotion was about. And there they were, hanging out as if on the stoop of their home.
At the lodge I chat with an Indian couple I had befriended. They had spent the day visiting a farm and preparing local food for lunch. They’re to go gorilla trekking the next day and ask me about my experience. He asks to see my photos and I hand him my camera. I purposely leave out the graduation bit, but he finds photos and asks about it. I tell him he’s spoiling the experience for himself and he laughs and puts the camera away. I tell him I can’t wait to see his photos tomorrow.
Outside, the light fades from the sky and clouds descend over the lake and forest and I find my mind traveling back to Bwindi Impenetrable Forest to imagine the Kutu family bedding down for the night; replaying my encounters with the gorillas and the mist.
17 June 2023
🦍
