Photos from Safari Field Guide Training

My photo album from my four weeks at safari field guide training is now posted online. Please click here to be directed to the online photo album. Once you see the album, click on a photo to enlarge it. I recommend clicking on the first photo and then progressing through in order by clicking "Next" above each photo.

Things I Nearly Stepped On, Part 2

Though the presence of humans caused most of the animals to flee our camp (see prior post), other animals were a bit slow in getting the proverbial hint. Anytime one chose to walk about the camp, it was imperative to keep an eye out for creatures that might be willing to sting, bite, or otherwise cause one harm. This was particularly true at night, when the predators were active. Walking alone at night without a flashlight (torch) would have earned me a nice tongue lashing from the instructors; in the bush, it's always entirely possible that I could have been attacked and eaten by the resident lions. I'm pleased to report that I wasn't.

That said, I did encounter a few dangerous cohabitants of the Karongwe Game Reserve, including at least three of which could have easily introduced me to my demise:

Though often quite diminutive, the puff adder (pictured at left) is the deadliest snake (at least for humans) in all of Africa. This isn't because the puff adder is particularly aggressive, but because he is particularly lazy. You see, as you're out walking in the bush, snakes can feel you (or at least the vibrations you create) long before you get anywhere near to them. Since they'd rather not be bothered with you, snakes typically slither away to safer environs before you even notice them. Not the puff adder; he just sits lazily and, should you be unfortunate enough to get near to him, he'll casually strike. And he's got one of the fastest strikes in all of snakedom (Yeah, I made that word up. So what?), so you've no hope of out-maneuvering him. Worse, even 1 ml of his venom will do you in. In short, you do not want to get in close confines with a puff adder. Incidentally, my friend Pieter and I found this little guy slithering alongside our camp's swimming hole. Mistaking him for another species of snake, we promptly set to putting him in a cardboard box to play "show and tell" with the the other students back at camp. This won't go down as one of my smartest decisions. If you're feeling extremely adventurous, you can view post-bite photos of a puff adder victim by clicking here.

As it would happen, lions can be somewhat hard to see when they're dozing away the day in a thicket of brush. Those are two lions in the photo at right. And, yes, it was just as difficult to see them in person as in that photo. As I approached these two, I didn't see them. Fortunately for me, I was driving a Land Rover. Unfortunately for them, they were directly in my path. Had my instructor not implored me to stop (I couldn't imagine why he was asking me to do so), I would have run over these two girls. I can only imagine the paperwork I would have had to fill out had that happened. Of course, that lions are often camouflaged so well is exactly why one must take care when walking in the bush. Stumbling across a rare species of flightless bird is one thing; stumbling across a pride of voracious predators is quite another.

Speaking of well-camouflaged predators, you may notice something rather peculiar in the photo at left. That is a Nile crocodile which, curiously, can no longer be found anywhere along the River Nile. In South Africa, however, they can be found all over the place. Crocodiles are most notable for their least endearing attribute: they are the only predators that actively hunt humans. This little guy was approximately 2 meters (6 feet) in length, and would be happy to ruin anyone's sunny afternoon swim.

Where is Caton Contest 1: Name that Poo!

While on our daily bush walks at safari field guide training (see previous post), the instructors placed heavy emphasis on two activities: (1) flagrantly forcing the students to risk heat stroke and (2) instructing the students on various methods of tracking wildlife. Experts (like my instructors) can track wildlife by taking note of obscure clues like broken twigs and misplaced mud. Laypeople (like me) are taught to rely on a more primal method of tracking wildlife - looking for wildlife excrement. In lay terms, "excrement" may be described simply as "poo." Whether you're an expert or a layperson, you should be familiar with this stuff. Naturally, I was. 

The course's emphasis on poo identification sometimes took questionable turns, such as our somewhat frequent Impala Dung Spitting Contests (that's exactly what it sounds like; participants insert a specimen in their mouths, then spit said specimen as far as possible). More often, however, our poo searching was comprised of more mundane activities. For instance, I learned that: (1) "dung" is produced by herbivores (e.g., elephants); (2) "scat" is produced by carnivores (e.g., lions); and (3) "feces" are produced by omnivores (e.g., you). I found this revelation rather troubling: If feces are produced exclusively by omnivores, then how can we use the verb "defecate" to describe the excretion activities of herbivores and omnivores? So, I implored my instructors to consider adopting a new verb for herbivores based on the word "dung" (deduncate). My suggestion was enthusiastically dismissed.

So, to help introduce you to the world of poo identification, I've decided to hold a contest: Name That Poo!

How the game works:
Below, you'll see two columns of photos. Photos 1-5 depict various types of poo. To the right, Photos A-E depict photos of the animals that produced the poos shown  in photos 1-5. Your task: Match the poo with the animal that made it!

How to play:
Send me an email at catonwalker@gmail.com that matches each of the poos 1-5 with the poo producers A-E (e.g., 1A, 5D, and so on). If you guess correctly, you may win exciting prizes, like the admiration of your friends and family. What's more, you may wish to revise your resume to include appropriate designations such as "poo enthusiast."

Send in your responses by Friday, June 6, 2008! Once I receive all emails, contest results and winners will be posted on www.whereiscaton.com! Everyone is encouraged to play! Even if you don't give a sh**.

1	A
2	B
3	C
4	D
5	E

Snorting Towards Ectasy

After a week or so, the animals that had inhabited our camp during our absence (see previous post) began to notice a pattern: these humans spend most of the day here, and they don't appear to be leaving. Perturbed as they were by this grave inconvenience, most of the animals soon slithered, scampered, crawled, or trotted away to make their homes elsewhere.

That said, the camp was in the middle of the bush, so animal encounters were still rather frequent. Each night, spotted hyenas roamed the camp (often immediately beneath my elevated deck) looking for morsels of food that we might have left lying about. On occasion, elephants lumbered through the camp, casually ripping branches off the trees (and whipping the resident vervet monkeys into a screeching, branch-shaking frenzy). Since all of these visits were nocturnal, however, I was rarely awake to witness them. So, given that I was aware of them, I preferred the daytime wildlife visits.

One afternoon, I trudged to my tent (which I'd long since abandoned in favor of my elevated deck), only to find my favorite animal - the incomparably ugly warthog - standing in my path. The warthog wasn't nearly as smitten to see me as I was to see him, so he immediately high-tailed it in the opposite direction. When I say "high-tailed it," I mean it quite literally; when alarmed, warthogs flee with their tails vertical in order to alert other warthogs of danger. The vertical tail has the added benefit of making the warthog even less attractive, and thereby more endearing.

Naturally, the warthog's flee sequence was accompanied with several snorts of disapproval. Honestly though, the warthog rarely expresses disapproval in any other way. The snort is, of course, the warthog's primary form of self-expression. With humans, self-expression comes in countless forms, be it through speech, song, writing, or (at least among the least credible human specimens) "interpretive dance." With warthogs, however, it's just the snort. I've personally witnessed snorts of disapproval, snorts of fear, snorts of trepidation, snorts of contentment, and, on at least one occasion, a snort of confusion. I imagine that the universe of snorts is far larger, however; there must be snorts of glee, snorts of surprise, and possibly snorts of love. In short, a snort for every emotion and an emotion for every snort.

It's fortunate that warthogs can't read this blog, or else I'd likely hear a snort of boredom.

Things I Nearly Stepped On, Part 1

Upon arrival at my safari field guide training camp, our head instructor informed us that we comprised the first training session of the year. Given that our session began in early January, and that all sessions last for four weeks, this struck me as rather obvious. Clearly, this guy was going to need a refresher on "how to use a calendar."

However,  before I had an opportunity to explain the intricacies of the Christian calendar to the instructor, he expounded on this point: "The camp is empty during the six weeks before the first session of each year. During that time, the animals have a way of quickly making themselves at home in the camp. Just this morning," he added, "we removed a black mamba (pictured at left) from tent one." This intrigued (and alarmed) the girls living in tent one, who immediately inquired about whether or not black mambas are deadly. The instructor looked at them dryly: "Oh, extremely. And nearly immediately. It's a good thing we found him rather than your foot."

Needless to say, this story put all of the students (including me) on a high state of alert. This is quite fortunate, considering I nearly stepped on a snake that very evening. In fact, I nearly stepped on at least four creatures during my first night at the camp:

Though this arachnid (it may have eight legs, but it is not a spider) may not appear very threatening, the solifugae (rhymes with "centrifuge") may be counted among the most fearsome predators in southern Africa. Though only active at night ("solifugae" is a Latin term meaning "those that flee from the sun"), this large arachnid (pictured at left) is a voracious hunter and will devour almost any small creature that has the misfortune of scuttling past the solifugae's hole. While the solifugae doesn't pose an immediate threat to humans, I can assure you that brushing aside one in bare feet is not a pleasant experience.

My right foot narrowly missed a common egg-eater snake like the one pictured at right. I did not, however, miss the high note when I squealed in response; I acknowledged this slithering beast with all the aplomb of a young girl. With just the right amount of ignorance (which I happened to have at the time), the egg-eater bears an uncanny resemblance to the African puff adder, which unceremoniously kills humans with less than 1 ml of venom. Fortunately, I lucked out; the egg-eater has no teeth and therefore poses no threat to humans. Had I been a hapless egg, however, my encounter with the egg-eater would have ended in tragedy.

The giant African land snail (photo at left) is, by any measure, an enormous snail. This snail is far larger than an adult's fist and, as I discovered after my curiosity got the better of me, is quite heavy, much like a large paperweight. Were we all the size of GI Joe action figures, this creature would lay waste to our cities Godzilla-style. Fortunately, he moves quite slowly, so we would have time to gather all of our belongings and casually out-walk him. Or out-slither, rather.

While completely benign (at least to humans), the striped skink lizard can nonetheless prove an unwelcome visitor as they seem to take particular pleasure in hiding in tents, always ready to spring forth from their hiding places (subsequently startling their victims) at the most inopportune moments. This little guy (photo at right) took offense when I moved into my tent and decided to scurry across my bare foot when I wasn't looking.

Taunting Wildlife: Scorpions

Whenever you take a walk among nature in southern Africa (or even in North America, for that matter), you may often see little holes in the ground. Though they may appear lifeless during the day, these little holes are quite often repositories of nocturnal life, particularly for gruesome-looking creatures with exoskeletons.

If such a hole contains a scorpion, it's surprisingly easy to fish them out of their hole (in broad daylight) using a twig. This scorpion was huge and mean as could be. He was easily larger than an adult's outstretched hand, which is the absolute last place you'd want to put him. A sting from this guy would easily land you in the hospital.

Taunting Wildlife: Crocodiles

Afternoons at the Game Reserve weren't always bursting with action, so we had to make our own action. Occasionally, we'd make a stop at a nearby lake, where we'd attract the attention of the resident crocodiles. This is the first such crocodile that I met - a Nile crocodile approximately 2 meters (more than 6 feet) from head to tail.

Fun with Llamas

Just in case I'm not boring you enough, I thought I'd invite one of Machu Picchu's resident llamas to help bore you. Have you ever noticed that llamas chew in a nearly perfect Figure 8? I hadn't. If you think this video is interesting, it's nothing compared to the other Machu Picchu llama videos that you can find at YouTube. Check them out by clicking the "YouTube" logo at the bottom right of the graphic just below.

Oh, and if you actually do find this video interesting, you need to get out more. This really isn't interesting in the least.