Mountain gorillas, part 2

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At our briefing at Volcanoes National Park, we learned that Rwanda has 4 habituated groups (the largest having 38 members) and they take a maximum of 8 trekkers to each except the smallest group which they restrict to 6. Today, however, there was only one person in addition to Stacy and myself: 3 of a possible 30 permits. Looking at their statistics which were posted at park headquarters, just over 2100 people tracked gorillas in Rwanda last year.

We learned that we would visit a group of 11 gorillas, including two silverbacks--fully mature males at least 14 years old--one of which is the largest silverback of all the habituated groups in Rwanda. As we left park headquarters on a short drive to the starting point of our trek, the sun was still shining and we still had clear views of the surrounding volcanoes. In contrast to the sparsely populated mountains in Uganda, though, the valley below the volcanoes, even surrounding the park headquarters, was heavily populated--a vast conglomeration of shanties surrounded by cultivated fields. The first portion of our trek was through fields actively worked by local villagers. Eventually we reached the park boundary and entered the forest. Trees and vines were abundant, but extensive forests of bamboo predominated. Periodically, the trail would open into meadows of wild celery and wild flowers, where again the towering cones of the surrounding volcanoes loomed above. Quite different from the Impenetrable Forest at Bwindi, almost inviting. . . if only it weren't the rainy season. Unfortunately, the park had received inordinatly heavy rain during the previous week (heavy even for the rainy season!) and what once might have been a path through the forest was now a thin ribbon of mud bog. Slogging through grease-like mud, struggling to keep your feet and avoid the deepest holes certainly added a new wrinkle to our gorilla trekking experience. Initially we were even entertained by the flailing of our only trekking companion, who was totally unprepared for the experience. To begin with, she was older (elderly? I'm not sure exactly where you draw this particular line) and completely out of shape. While age doesn't necessarily impart a handicap--I know many people twice my age and more who can run, swim and trek circles around me--her lack of fitness did. Compounding this, she was dressed in cream slacks and new, white tennis shoes. In the beginning, her vain attempts to tip-toe through the muck, struggling to keep her shoes clean, was amusing. The mud was unavoidable and occasionaly only a stockinged foot would emerge from the deeper holes. Then our entire party of trackers, guides and armed escorts would have to stop while the trackers redirected their skills to the mud hole, locating her shoe. Then it fell upon the guide to put her shoe one (she could hardly remain standing, forget bending down to don a lost shoe) and tie it for her. Her antics quickly lost there entertainment value, though, as clear skys gave way to dark, threatening thunderclouds. As we continued on at our painfully slow pace, watching the clouds gather, it became obvious that we would be braving more than mud soon. The rain started well before we reached the gorillas, for it had taken us over two hours to cover what might have been 45 minutes, had we been 'unencumbered'.

Emerging from the bamboo forest into a vine-covered clearing, the first gorilla we encountered was a large silverback. He remained stationary, unconcerned, as we crept closer. Our guide led us to within 10 or 15 feet of this huge animal, and while he never stirred or made threatening gestures, his occasional yawns revealed a large, gaping mouth filled with long, pointed teeth. I had to remind myself that gorillas are vegetarians. Our guide, who was now making gorilla-like sounds (intermittently informing this and the other gorillas of our presence, calming them) signalled for us to move on, 'This is the lesser chief. We go find the big chief.' Unbelieveably, this gorilla that was more than twice my size was the smaller, subordinate silverback! Moving into the next clearing, we passed beneath a small tree with a young gorilla nesting in its branches. Direcly ahead on this steep, sloping hill was a female, cradling a 6-month-old baby in her arms. Entranced, I approached carefully to within 20 feet, alternately taking photos and just watching, fascinated. I could make out her nose markings, features unique to each gorilla, like fingerprints. Even more interesting was the baby, who was studying me almost as closely as I him. While in his mothers arms he was little more than a small ball of black fur with big, dark eyes and a curious expression on his small face. As the rain let up and the mother flopped onto her back, hoping for some sunshine, this little ball of fur disappeared from view briefly. Soon, though, we could see little hands and arms scrambling up onto his mother's belly where he regained his vantage to study our group.

Eventually, our guide was able to redirect my attention down the hillside where, equally close, there were 3 more gorillas: two more young and 'the big chief'. The young (still considered babies) were 2 and 2 1/2 years old, and were playing amongest themselves, wrestling and climbing through the lowest branches of the tree above their nest and around the silverback who sat stoically despite their antics. The silverback was huge, easily exceeding 450 Ibs. Most impressive was his disproportionally large head and hands--disproportional in human terms, that is. With so many human-like features, it is hard not to make comparisons like these. It is very easy to attribute human-like qualities to gorillas, watching the young play, the older supervising. Only when they open their mouths and bare their sharp, pointed teeth in a jutting, muzzle-like lower jaw do they seem more animal than human.

When the rain came again, the silverback led the two youngsters under the protective branches of the trees and out of sight. Amazingly, we followed! Our guide first went alone, still grunting and lowing like the gorillas. Initially the silverback registered his displeasure, beating his chest and bellowing, then demonstrated his dominance, snapping off a 3-inch stalk of bamboo as if it were just another piece of wild celery on which he was feeding. Our guide persisted with his grunts, and the silverback finally accepted him (and shortly thereafter us) into his protected clearing under the trees. Unfortunatley, flash-photography is not permitted, and so we were unable to capture on film the two youngsters who took the opportunity provided by the close-quaters to study us in detail. They approached within arms reach and probably would have touched us had we not retreated, following the 'rules of engagement', so to speak. Photos would only be to show others, though, as the memories will not soon be forgotten.

Our guide, meanwhile, had slithered on his belly to within a few feet of the silverback and was gradually clearing what little foliage separated us. By the time he was finished, the silverback was totally exposed, maybe 8 or 10 feet from us, sitting just outside the protective shelter of the trees where he could keep watch over his entire brood. Unfazed by the rain, unfazed by our presence, he just sat there watching us watching him. Sadly, our hour had expired and we were forced to leave. Back, through the mud, in the rain. While the weather hadn't cooperated, the gorillas certainly had, and the experience was unforgettable!

JB