Jogging along, the truck is strong.
It's good road now, beware of goat and cow.
With red ray's the suns rising, so fast it's suprizing.
Slow into town, not many people around.
Some needs I ponder, for use out yonder.
Off we go again, now it's not the same.
Hopping and bumping, the truck takes a thumping.
"Road" don't be daft, we're following a path.
Deep cracks in the earth, its rich vlei turf.
To follow the river, we shake and we quiver.
The sun is up on high, where the fish eagles cry.
There is rough ground ahead, in four wheel drive we tread
Lurching slipping, sliding, this is heavy riding.
Branches slapping, stinging, stones the wheels are flinging.
Hard climb it is to the top, in trouble for sure if we stop.
Seems as if we're nearly there, but now we have to stop and stare.
Elephants have blocked the way, trunks held high do gently sway.
Big bull pushes to the front, we'll let the truck take the brunt.
Ears flapping scraping, bellowing too, this is the wild not the zoo.
Charging, stopping backing up, he's only inches from the truck.
Another mock as he his anger vents, how is the truck not full of dents.
Turning now it seems so slow, his anger down will he go?
Lumbering slowly up the hill, he rents the air with one last shrill.
We venture out from behind a tree, and begin again to breathe free.
A nature break is called for first, then to quench this mammoth thirst.
With winch in front and us behind, we again begin the uphill grind.
Now crest the top we stop and stand, survey the beauty of the land.
Treed savanna flat as can be, we let go a yell and jump with glee.
Forward now to find a spot, to stop and prepare the cooking pot.
We'll find a place that seems just right, to rest a while and spend the night.
Near the cliff there is this place, where a spring bubbles and gathers pace.
Down the edge to the lowland, to join another silver strand.
Shower rigged and all washed up, we settled down to have our sup.
Linger a while to watch the light, be slowly chased by the night.
Around the fire we chat a while, every face reflects a smile.
Then as the crackling fire burns down, we enjoy the night bush sound.
All have wondered off to bed, found a place to rest their head.
Sleep comes soon for everyone, the day has been such great fun.
Not ten paces to the right, blood-curdling screams rip the night.
Cat moves off to eat his fill, baboon supplied an easy kill.
Remaining troop sniffles and cries, we all sit with wide-awake eyes.
We all creep closer to the fire, adding logs as the flames grow higher.
Sleep takes over till the dawn, slowly wake stretch and yawn.
For coffee round the fire we stay, to watch the breaking of the day.
Mist below us fills the hollow, soft and fluffy like a pillow.
It takes the sun not long to crest, and quickly burn away the mist.
Slowly pack our gear up tight, thankful for this eventful night.
Now we're packed we must move off, through this ideal Rhodesian bush.
Written by Pete Barlow 28/11/2000
Email : Pete Barlow