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Things got raucous after dinner on our third night, due in large part to wine and Bobby’s dice game (for the record, nobody understood Bobby’s dice game, and it required a substantial amount of math). There was some bold talk about the potential to be aerial daredevils on our next flight (Kevin and Nic were a little nervous), more wine was consumed, and we finally headed for the tents and some sleep.
We got to sleep in for the first time….Our wake-up call came at 6:30 instead of 7:00, and after coffee and a small breakfast, we headed out for our final trip through Buffalo Springs and a search for lions on our way to the airstrip. Our pilot was running a bit late, a happy accident that gave us a little more time to spend in the reserve. Bobby spotted some rather large lion tracks down by the river, and we followed those for a bit; soon, the radio crackled, and Nic told us that Lepeta had managed to spot part of a pride just up the road. We scrambled over as fast as we could, and sure enough, there was a mother lioness and three of her cubs nestled in the scrub. Nic’s Rover definitely had a better vantage point; in fact, Bobby declared it only a “partial sighting” for us, and he was more determined than ever to make sure we saw cats when we met up again in the Mara (Bobby, aside from having a very pregnant lady, also had to coordinate the camp’s move from Northern Kenya to the extreme south-end of the country, so we bade him farewell for a few days). We made it to the airstrip where our plane was waiting, along with Rick, who, we were about to find out, was the gutsiest pilot we’d ever meet.

We gave Rick a rough idea of the kind of flight we were looking for, and, since Bobby had assured us that this was the right guy for the job, we took to the skies for the most memorable flight of our lives. Low and fast was on the menu, and boy, did Rick ever deliver. We buzzed a nearby lodge where the guests were just getting up after a night of hard partying; I think it’s a safe assumption when I say that we managed to wake them up a bit. From there, we headed toward the river. We were flying low enough that we got to see the look on an elephant’s face; she was *clearly* mad that we had disturbed her morning drink. Lower and lower we went, turning almost sideways as we flew threw the riverbed. As Kevin put it, if there had actually been water in the river, our wings would have been wet. The plane was filled with laughter and shrieks; we even buzzed our lodge right before we landed. We sure know how to make an entrance, and it was an excellent way to start the 4th of July with a bang.
After bidding Rick a fond farewell, we were met at the airstrip by Andrew, Hussein, and Samwel. At this point, there was no way we could have possibly known just how quickly we would become friends, not to mention how much we would value that friendship. We piled into the Rover yet again and headed over to Ol Malo lodge. Andrew, ever the gracious host, showed us around the lodge and gave us our pick of the rooms. Kevin and I chose the Crocodile Room; I was instantly in love with the giant bathtub in the shape of a croc. Dad and Dana chose Hippo 1 and 2, and all of our rooms had a wonderful little patio with a stunning view over the cliffs.
Once we had settled into our rooms, we congregated by the pool with ice-cold Tuskers in hand (watch out, Coor’s Light; Tusker may be moving into your spot). By now, it was firmly established that Kevin was up for anything, so into the frigid pool he went, along with Nic, Andrew, and eventually Katharine.

After some shenanigans, they finally got out, dried off (with kikoi towels!!!), and we headed back to change clothes and get ready for lunch. Never in a million years could we imagine that we were on the verge of one of the most incredible experiences of the entire trip.

* “Up in this high air you breathed easily, drawing in a vital assurance and lightness of heart. In the highlands you woke up in the morning and thought: Here I am, where I ought to be.” ~Isak Dinesen, “Out of Africa”