I’ve been stuck in the mud before. In fact, I’ve been stuck in the mud many times. It is always something I worry about, especially now that the rains have started, but really I have always been able to get myself unstuck. The trip to Kwenia was different. Lake Kwenia is one of the largest Ruppell’s vulture colonies in East Africa. It is a beautiful site - a dried lake, astonishing cliffs with piles of bird poo that have been gathering for decades, rainbows, and a general paucity of people. I’ve been there once before and going again seemed like a great way to kick off my vulture studies for the season. Munir had asked Simon to drive his car in addition to Munir just in case the mud was bad. Kaisan, Munir’s son, also accompanied us as did Karim, a burgeoning videographer with a passion for raptors, who had already created a nice film of Munir’s fish eagle study for the Peregrine Fund website.
The drive in was going well and we were within 25 km of the cliffs when we noticed an intersection. Simon stopped to ask if we wanted to take it, but Munir was hoping to see some of the Masai he had been working with in the area before heading to the cliffs, so he passed. Simon seemed ready to follow, but was soon out of sight behind us. By the time we went back he was nowhere to be found, so we continued on alone. The drive to Mama Kaa’s house (one of the Masai in the area) quickly became impassable. The car slide and twisted and we turned around, looking for another route. When we saw a brightly covered cloth at the front of a circle of trees, Munir turned off hoping we could make it to the boma (or fence that typically surrounds Masai homes). The mud didn’t seem bad but before we knew it we were stuck. We dug and reversed. We got rocks to put under the wheels. We took some wood from a nearby pile, intended to be turned into charcoal. Nothing was working and it was getting dark. With no word from Simon, we assumed he was out of cell range as were we and we set up camp.
The next morning the mud bath continued (especially after the evenings rains) as we struggled and only seemed to dig the car in deeper. Karim and I went for help and were soon followed by a squad of young Masai who brought a shovel to aid in the dig. They had helped a truck get lose the previous day and although our car was an automatic, I had hopes that we would soon be free. A few hours later we were once again covered in much and no closer to freedom. Karim and I set off to find Simon, accompanied by some Masai guides. Thinking this would be a light excursion (aka the whole trip) I had left my hat, but applied sunscreen as always. After what I would later measure as a 2.7 km walk, we reached a barefoot Simon who had apparently driven his car right up the cliffs, then gone looking for us by a drive through the now swampy lake, and then taken a walk to Mama Kaa’s (without seeing us) in the late evening after getting his own car stuck. Simon was not the least bit worried and seemed happy in his solitude. He had managed to dig the car out a bit. I would have put his situation as less dire than ours (since the body of Munir’s car was now resting on the mud banks, while Simon’s seemed only about six inched in) except for the fact that Simon was in the middle of a once dry lake. His tracks looked deep and I wasn’t sure how he would get back out once unstuck, but nonetheless we dug and brought sticks and rocks (though there weren’t many in the lake bed) and tried to drive out. Simon’s car had a winch, but being in a lake there wasn’t much to winch to. Simon started pulling things from his car – a cutting board, a tire tube – and shoving them under the car, but nothing seemed to help.
We walked back to Munir with the news. With no cell reception by the car Munir climbed up a cliff to make some calls. We needed to be free by tomorrow.
That night the five swamp monsters went to sleep, still covered in mud. The mud had penetrated my nails so thoroughly that it now stained my fingertips and I noticed the red of a sunburn coming on. By morning I was burnt in placed I had never been before. I had a necklace of burn around my neck, a circle of burn around my face – just had the hairline I had missed, and red ears and nose as well. Even the backs and inside of my ears seemed warm and red, but we had another sunny day ahead of us.
Tico another photographer was able to rescue us. After the two hour drive he arrived early on what was now our third day of mug slinging. He winched us out with little trouble and we were soon hoofing it through the mud to help Simon. I had given up on my shoes and was no wearing Crocs. The mud penetrated my toes and I was soon sinking up past my ankles. At one point, I became so stuck that I was sure I would fall over. By after some flailing I managed to free myself only to lose my shoe in the mud. I went back for it but couldn’t pull it out. I had to literally dig beneath it to free it from the soft brown layer that had overtaken it.
Simon greeted us at his car with a grin. He had been up to something, but I wasn’t sure what. Not ten feet from Simon’s car was a giant hole. At first all I could see next to it was a small metal cup and I imagined Simon sitting at the bottom of the hobbit sized hole digging himself a tunnel to freedom. It hadn’t gotten him anywhere as his car looked as stuck as ever. (I would later remember that we left Simon with a shovel, so it wasn’t quick as impressive as it first seemed, but it was a massive hole). But what was the hole for? I would soon find out as Simon took the spare off the back of his car and attached it to the winch. He lowered it into the hole and buried the winch line. Then we all filled in the whole and stood on top of the tire. The winch turned on, making a terrible song as it spun itself ever so slowly. Karim, myself, one of Tico’s friends, and the two Masai stood on the tire, hugging each other as the car slowly pulled itself towards us. I couldn’t belive it – this was going to work. With the tire moving out of the ground with every crank, the car came forward, pulled out of the holes where the tires had lay for three days. The winch was turned off and the car on. At first it seemed to move alright, but we soon decided to rebury the tire for one more winching to get the last bit of the back tires out of the mud. Once again the tire held (with the assistance of our combined weight) and the car tugged forward. When Simon went to drive off in to the mud surrounding us it became clear there was more going on then just the mud. Only one tire was spinning and the car wasn’t going anywhere. Even after all Simon’s ingenuity he was still stuck.
After some more shoving and digging and pushing, everyone agreed the car needed help and it was time to go home. Not one to leave his ride, Simon decided to stay behind and he called some other friends for further assistance, including the aid of a mechanic.
We never made it to the cliffs and were soon racing back to Nairobi, mud still clinging to our clothes, skin, and tires. Perhaps next time we would all stick together.