Stuck in the Mud

Yesterday, I spent over three hours stuck in the mud. 

I was in the Nairobi National Park, in a secluded spot near the Athi Dam.

I’d gone off on my own, because the sun was out, Britt was on a business trip, and I’d had it with staying inside to nurse a stubborn chest and sinus infection. I’d actually gone to the doctor (rare, for me), taken the prescribed meds, and tried to get well. After a week of this, I was still coughing up a storm and blowing my nose hundreds of times a day.

I figured that I could as easily blow my nose sitting in the car as sitting at home, and that the sight of wild animals would at least revive my spirits if not my immune system.

So, I packed a box of 200 tissues, a big bottle of water, some carrots and a banana, and my telephoto lens-equipped camera. And I took off in my Toyota RAV 4 ready for action.

I had a pleasant morning in the Park. Two different people told me about lion sightings at various places, which I tried to check out but with no luck. Still, I saw lots of great birds, ranging from tiny, colorful bee eaters to two crested eagles and a big secretary bird. I saw plenty of giraffes, zebras, and antelopes of multiple types. There were hippos at the hippo pool and crocs in the river.

It was early afternoon when I decided to head over to Athi Dam, where there’s a small lake that usually attracts lots of different water birds. Reaching the pond, I was somewhat disappointed to see that there wasn’t the usual flurry of bird activity, and that in fact, sightings were slim. Taking a road I’d never tried before, I started to make my way around the pond. It was when I reached the far side, the one you are least apt to see from any road, that I got stuck in the muck.

Now to put things in context, let me just say, this is NOT the rainy season. We’ve had a bit of precipitation, but basically the roads are dry. So it was especially idiotic of me to find a piece of road that was filled with deep mud.

Foolishly, I tried to just drive to the side of the two muddy tracks. But I wasn’t far enough over, and all of a sudden I felt the whole car slide sideways into the mud-filled ruts. Hoping I could just rock my way in and out, like you do in snow, I tried to ease forwards and ease backwards. But all that resulted was spinning wheels and a huge shower of thick mud covering not only the outside of the car, but also half of the inside, as I hadn’t thought to close the sunroof and windows. 

Now, the thing about getting stuck in the mud in the middle of a safari park filled with large carnivores, and their equally - if not more dangerous – large herbivore mates, is that you are NOT supposed to get out of your car.

I had just passed a big group of water buffaloes, which, though not meat eaters are known for their nasty dispositions and ability to trample and gore when roused.

So, I took a good look around.

Then I assessed my situation and the tools I had at hand. Unfortunately, neither was very promising.

I didn’t have a shovel or a tow rope. I didn’t even have my cell phone (left at home recharging).  I had some plastic mats and a sun visor, which I tried to shove under the tires. That did no good.

I did have a sun roof and a car horn. So, I used those. I stood on the drivers seat with my foot honking the horn, my body sticking out the roof, and arms waving. I could occasionally see a car off on a road on a nearby ridge. But they weren’t seeing me.

And then I heard the hopeful sound of a big 4WD coming up behind me. It was filled with a friendly family out for a Sunday drive in the animal park. I asked the kids to keep an eye out for dangerous animals from their sunroof, while the parents and I assessed the situation some more.

They didn’t have a tow rope or cable either. They did have a cell phone, and tried to call the park service number listed on the entry ticket. But there was no answer. They were reluctant to try to push my car with theirs for fear of damaging their front end.

So, I asked them to go off and find some park rangers, tell them that I was stuck and where they could find me. They promised to do so.

Somewhat relieved, I settled in to wait for help. I turned on the radio and tuned in to a BBC broadcast about the 10^th anniversary of the SARS outbreak. It was interesting and long. Then it was done. I moved on to the Radio France International and a story on the crisis in Egypt.

More than two hours had passed, with no sign of help.

The sky darkened. It started to rain.

I turned the engine on from time to time to make sure I wasn’t killing the battery.

I listened to more radio.

And I began to think I might have to spend the night in the park in my car. At least the seats recline. I’d eaten the two carrots and the banana, but I still had some water. And there was the bag of (stale) peanuts that’s always in the glove box.

But, I didn’t really want to wait all night in the park.

So, I went back to the honk and wave method. I couldn’t see any passing cars, but it was something to do.

And lo and behold, what should I see but a park patrol officer, on foot, with his camouflage uniform and regulation rifle, walking and waving in my direction.  He’d seen me from afar and noticed that I hadn’t moved for a while. But people do that, especially if they are watching a lion or looking at birds or such. And it was only when he heard the honking and saw me waving that he thought something was amiss.

He radioed his park service pals, the ones with the big Land Cruiser.

We waited. He joined me in the car to get out of the rain.  

He told me stories of people getting stuck and not found until morning, with a lion on the hood and such. I don’t know how true they were, but they were good stories. He contemplated walking up to the nearest road to look for cars if his pals didn’t come soon.

But then they showed. A big car filled with three strong guys. They had cables and wires – and within minutes they had pulled my car out of the mud.

It was filthy, and so was I. And there was a piece of plastic covering that was pulled from its place and dangling from under the car. We decided it wasn’t going to hurt anything, and they escorted me off the back trail and back to a main one, from which I made my way out.

It was dark by the time I got to the exit at the Main Gate. The rangers there were very kind. They didn’t give me a hard time about overstaying the closing time (6 pm, normally). They tut-tutted upon hearing my tale. One of them said that a family had indeed told her someone was stuck, and that she had called the park patrol to report it. But they had not responded (or found me) for some reason.

Once home, I took a good shower, made myself some food, and tucked myself into a warm bed. By the time I was up and out this morning, the day guard had washed all the layers of mud off the outside and inside of my car.

So, I made up a shopping list and headed to the Nakumatt. The unexpected adventures of Africa are part of the reason we’re here. It’s just that next time, I’ll at least have a tow rope.