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To Kafue National Park

November 9th – 12th, 2021

As you may recall, from Fringilla we set out for our next destination, Kafue National Park, via the M20 and Landless Corner, instead of the theoretically faster route via Lusaka and the M9. We needed to back track 18km or so to make the turn, and in short order it turned to dirt. At first it’s in pretty good shape, but in not too long it dropped a notch or two in quality, lots of pot holes on a formerly nice dirt road.

There are heaps of gravel dumped on one side of the road, signs they intend to spruce up this road to a first quality dirt road, but they have been there long enough that now plants are growing out of them. I guess this particular road improvement project has been put on hold.

Just around the time that I was getting pretty tired of all the pot holes switched back to tarmac and progress was good. The west of the country seemed to flatten out a bit, with a lot of land cleared for small plot farming and villages here and there, but relatively sparsely populated.

Still no sign of rain, so perhaps we would manage our visit to Busanga on the cusp of the rains after all. Andrew from Fringilla said the forecast was for rain on the weekend, and we planned to be out of there on Thursday, in the nick of time. 

The M20 eventually brought us to Mumbwa, a town with a few filling stations and road side produce. There is also a sign for a Shopright, but having stocked up in Kabwe we were good to go. We topped up the diesel, including jerry cans, and rendezvoused with the M9 and continued heading west to the middle of Kafue.

Kafue National Park is the largest of Zambia’s National Parks, but most of its impressive size is inaccessible and has sparse game. This is reported due to heavy poaching pressure in the past, and even now the number of game scouts allocated to this humongous park, roughly the size of Wales or Massachusetts, is laughable. Currently Kafue is under a provisional one year contract being managed by African Parks. This successful NGO is based in South Africa and strikes MOUs with countries that have limited resources to manage all their parks. Their agreements have African Parks manage the park, but ownership and revenue is still maintained by the country. They have some 20 or so parks under management all over Africa and do some fascinating work. If this one year contract goes well they will likely sign a long term agreement, but this sort of thing is fraught with politics and one never knows until the deal is done.

Many of the safari camps, and the wildlife, are focused along the Kafue River, passing mostly along the Eastern flank of the park, though many seasonal rivers spiderweb across the land. Importantly the northwest of the park also harbors a massive flood plain, Busanga Plains. This drains during the dry season leaving huge tracts of sweet grass for grazers to feed on, and large herds of the wetland loving antelopes such as red lechwe and puku, reside here. There are also herds of roan, sable, and impala, large pods of hippos, and the other usual suspects like warthog, zebras, buffalo, some elephants and then the predators. Namely lion, leopard, hyena, and one of the only places in Zambia you can see cheetah, if you’re lucky. 

Busanaga Plains is completely different to the tsetse fly filled dry miombo scrub that covers much of the park and is the star attraction of Kafue. Unfortunately there are no campsites in or near Busanga, the closest being at least an hour or two hour drive away. Instead there are exclusive high end lodges, mostly for fly in safari clients. This means that for self drivers like us the only practical way to visit the plains is a marathon all day game drive from further away, putting you in the plains midday, missing out on those key early morning hours that animals are the most active. 

However we did find a way to stay here. Ntemwa Camp, a bush camp* at the south end of the plains, shuts down for its high end clients around the end of October. Then they do allow bookings for self drive campers in the month of November, at a rate more premium than normal camping, and without all the amenities that are afforded the high end guests. That said access to this part of the park was worth it to us and we were really excited to visit here. Anyone who has been to Kafue or Busanga before will always advise you, “Do whatever you can to visit Busanga”, or, “Splurge and stay at a lodge so you can visit Busanga.” We figured it must be pretty special. 

*Bush camps are usually seasonal camps set up by safari tour operators. They are often in prime locations, but all or many of their structures are non-permanent and can be dismantled each year and have a bit more of a rustic feel, even though these companies still typically offer premiums service and experience. This is contrasted with a lodge, that is typically a permanent installation and might have more facilities, like a pool or something like that.

From Mumbwa we drove on good tar all the way to Hook Bridge gate. Here we paid for our three nights at Busanaga as well as two additional nights we planned to spend at McBride’s Camp in a different part of the park. The ranger at the gate asked us where we were staying, and when we answered, “Ntemwa Camp.” She responded that she thought that camp was closed? We confidently assured here it was not, as I showed her my booking confirmation. 

This however did sow a small seed of doubt. Tyrone McKeith, who owns the camp and was our point of contact in booking had previously said, “We need to be vigilant on weather conditions between now and your travel dates. If the rains are very heavy beforehand then it might be a very tough drive, but we will stay in touch in the lead up to your departure. What vehicle will you be driving? Do you have a winch?” 

These are ominous words, as when someone from Africa says, “It’ll be a very tough drive…”, they really mean it. Typically when the road is crap and it’s going to be a very tough drive you be told, “No problem in a land cruiser.”, so for someone to actually say it’ll be tough is grim news indeed. 

A few days before we had emailed Tyrone to check in and get a road condition update and surprisingly received no response. To date Tyrone had been extremely easy to communicate with. I maintained that he is a working safari guide and was probably off in the bush somewhere, but it was hard not to have a tiny part of my brain say “Hmm, ranger says the camp is shut down, formerly responsive contact no longer answers email…is something going on here?”

Regardless, park permit in hand we got going on the Spinal Road, that traverses the park on a north south axis, heading up towards Busanaga. On the way members of the safari party noted many signs for various lodges and bush camps within the park, but not a single sign for Ntemwa. A sign of its exclusivity? Or another little tick mark in the red flag column? 

Moving along, as promised, game in the park was sparse but we did see some, including three huge bull elephants with enviable tusks. It was hot and the tsetse flies thick, so Melissa and I were rationed in our photography, each photo stop followed by ten minutes of everyone cursing and swatting flies or trying to coax them out the windows without letting more in than you are able to get rid of. 

These suckers bite, and unlike most flies they fly silently so you can’t detect them until you feel the sharp pinch of their bite, even though clothes. On top of this they laugh off any attempt at insect repellant, being totally unaffected by DEET or similar repellants. The only reported effective repellant is “Avon Skin so Soft”, which isn’t even a repellant but is some sort of skin lotion. Theories on this are that the oiliness of the skin so soft keeps them off, but it requires frequent application. 

The other anti-tsetse method is to attach a large coffee can or similar onto the outside of your vehicle and burn elephant dung in it. Elephants do not have efficient digestive systems, so elephant dung is mostly just sticks and leaves and stuff, and the smoldering smoke is not unpleasant to smell, but keeps the flies away. Members of my party were now much more open to this than when I had mentioned this technique pre-fly attack, but we never tried it.

With quite a distance to make today so we pressed on, making it to the turn off to Busanaga south of the Moshi Airstrip at little before 4 PM. More signage for various lodges down this road, none of which for Ntemwa. At this point some were openly questioning whether this was some sort of scam and what we were going to do when we arrived at the waypoint in question and there was no camp.

Even finding this place is not easy. Not bolstering my insistence that the camp was real  (privately I was a tiny bit worried as well) was that Ntemwa is not sown on Maps.me, Tracks4Africa or iOverlander. I was only able to get the GPS coordinates off their website, and even that took some sleuthing. Note their website says that Ntemwa is too far to drive from Lusaka in one day, the same distance we were attempting.

We got closer to our theoretical camp and you’ll note from the attached screenshot from our mapping software that even the approach road mapped was not how we arrived, because the road as mapped did not exist. Finally however as we came,  abreast of the GPS location and I was getting pretty worried a tiny black sign greeted us, “Ntemwa” pointing down a little two spoor track. Hurrah! [note: Tyrone and his staff were fantastic, this is no way meant to be a criticism of his operation, he did follow up with us shortly afterwards.]

In shorter order we found ourselves at Ntemwa Bushcamp just after 5 PM. It was clear camp was being packed up for the season and at first I felt a little bit like an afterthought. We were told we could drive right down the footpath to camp in front of chalet No 1. Stupidly I forgot to take camp photos, apologies.

Camp staff member Glad introduced himself, as did the more shy Alex. We were shown the facilities. The reed and thatch hut that made up the chalet was empty, but we could stores things in there if we liked, and use it’s lovely outdoor ablutions. 

The shower was a bucket shower, that is a canvas bucket hung from a tree, that can be lowered via a rope and pulley. Glad kindly advised that if we told him when we’d like our showers he’d fill it for us, with hot water if we liked. It was pretty hot, so cold water was fine for us. The shower head twists to turn the flow on and off, and out of a full bucket we could eek out four showers, though a refill would be no problem.

A little oddly there was no sink in the ablutions, but a tap was outside the reed enclosure for water as needed. The toilet was in there, and you could look up at the trees or the stars at night, all very pleasant. Ablution score…3.5/5? 4/5? Hard to say, as it was great, until the last morning that is, but more on that later.

We pitched camp right in front of the chalet, and Pete and Melissa put their ground tent under the shade of a nearby tree. This later proved to be a tactical error, as it was an acacia tree and the thorns punctured their mattress, which went flat midway through the night. Amateur move, pitching the tent under an acacia tree. 

Never fear though, between game drives the next day Pete patched the mattress with some contact cement and pieces of an old bicycle tube that we had kept for just such an occasion. 

There was a large raised wooden deck with a view out onto the southern edge of the plains. Normally I suppose this was the bar and dining deck, but now all the furniture had been pushed together and a tarp put over it for the season. In front of this on the ground was a nice clearing for a fire, and with Glad’s blessing we shifted camp to this clearing. It allowed a bit of a breeze and a thorn free location for the ground tent. 

Enough about camp, what about the great Busanga Plains? Wanting to make the most of our time here we set off at a very early hour for our first game drive. Ntemwa being at the southern edge of the plains, we had not really seen them properly, though from the turnoff near the Moshi Airstrip game numbers had increased noticeably already. 

There are two roads north into the plains, one that goes along the tree line and one deeper into the heart of the flood zone. At Glad’s advice we took the one into the flood plains. Not too long from camp we busted out of the trees into a huge open flat expanse of grassy plains.

A few small tree islands dot onto the plains, but in most areas it is just flat and wide open. We passed our first herds of puku, spread out a bit to the east where there is a winding channel of water, the last remaining water of the dry season. 

Further along we stop and spot a lion. Already Busanga was delivering. We watched him in the binoculars and oddly he seemed to be limping. He crossed the road in front of us and we were able to confirm our suspicions, that he was missing a foot, almost certainly lost to a poacher’s snare. Snaring is silent and inexpensive way of poaching bush meat, but is also indiscriminate and many ends of elephant trunks and feet of animals are lost in snares.

It was super sad to see, and we wondered how long he could survive missing a foot. It didn’t appear to be a fresh wound, but I couldn’t imagine he’d make it long. Far off to the east, near the channel, we also saw four people on foot, one with a bicycle. How curious. Poachers? Would they be out in the open like this? We marked the spot on the GPS and later reported them to Glad. He said they were probably fishermen. 

It turns out that when the park was established the government relocated the villages that were in the new park’s boundaries. As these villages had been dependent on fishing for generations they brokered a deal where they would move out, but maintain seasonal fishing rights within the park. Glad said that fishing season was about to start and they were probably preparing their fish traps. He did report the sighting to the game scouts in case they wanted to check it out, just in case. 

We named our unfortunate lion Tripod, who settled down in the shade of a clump of bushes, and we moved on. Later on we talked to a guide and asked about this three legged lion and he knew him, and said that he has a second male that he hangs out with and he’d survived for a while like that.

Game became denser and we started to see our first groups of lechwe, an attractive reddish brown antelope with nice horns, who graze invariably fairly near water. 

We bumped into a lodge vehicle and the guide was kind enough to tell us about some lions, and even radio into his base to confirm the location of the sighting. It’s great that the professional guides are so friendly to self drivers, I could easily see them resenting those who don’t use their services, but there is no hint of that. 

Picking up the pace a bit to hope to see those lions we moved northward, and wrapping around a bend on a track that was unmarked on T4A we came into view of six lions lying in the shade, five young males and one female. 

The female, a huge and beautifully powerful looking animal, and one male were a mating pair, partaking in the typical lion mating program. This is mating for very brief sessions every 20 minutes or so, usually for a couple days straight. Each session is ended when the female growls fiercely, announcing the end for the time being.

Leaving them in peace, we moved on. It was getting warm and they were unlikely to do much for the rest of the day. Busanga continued to deliver wonderful game. Large herds of lechwe, buffalo, puku and hippo all grazed peacefully together, interspersed with warthogs here and there that seem to prance around on their tip toes, and lots of bird life. All the grazing is within about a 100 meters of the snaking water ways, with green grass still on offer.

Further up past another lodge we found a second mating pair, this a mature male a guide told us was named Scarface. The guide said was the father of the younger lions we’d seen earlier. This couple was up to the same drill, mating every 20 minutes or so until the female decided it was time for a break. They happened to be adjacent to a particularly nice scene of hippos and other antelopes on the opposite side. On safari there is really nothing more you could ask for, so we spent quite a bit of time here watching everything.

The evening’s game drive we found our six lions from before, still not doing anything, having just moved over to the shady side of the same bushes. We did not find Scarface and his companion again.

Nine lions in one day, thousands of antelope, wide open grassy plains, Busanga was really proving something special. I will now echo all the advice given, if you are a wildlife lover and on safari in Zambia, get yourself to Busanga Plains one way or another, it’s like no place else we’ve visited. Though you wouldn’t go wrong, I suppose I would not recommend it to a first time safari goer over Moremi or South Luangwa, for example, but for anyone who has been around the bush a bit.

Getting back to camp Glad has kindly laid on a fire for us. He also came out to ask what we’d seen and was delighted when we told him about our lion sightings. He said that we were very lucky, that many only see antelope and birds, so consider this against my above advice I suppose.

We braaid Fringilla wors over the fire and made french fries along with grilled holumi cheese not the most healthy meal we’ve ever made, but we had a wonderful evening in camp. That night it rained a little bit and we thought of the roads, but Glad assured us that it would have to rain several times like that to affect them. The next morning’s game drive proved him correct, even though we’d driven over many kilometers of black cotton soil it was all in perfectly firm. 

Taking the same route on the morning’s drive, partway along more or less where we’d seen Tripod, Pete called for a stop. This is a critical part of game viewing, that everyone is looking out and scanning their sector of view. When you see a suspicious or likely shape you call for a stop to inspect with binoculars. Typically this turns out to be a stump or tree branch or something, many a log being hopefully mistaken for a lion. But stop and look you must, because otherwise you’ll miss things. Like this morning, the shape Pete wanted to inspect turned out to be a cheetah. It was an amazing spot on Pete’s part.

We all had look and decided that he was closer to the treeline road. Even though it would be a few kilometers we decided to back track and switch to the other road. We noted his approximate position on the GPS and I drove as quickly as I reasonably could. On the other road, as we closed on his position we saw that a herd of wildebeest was running all over the place, circling randomly and generally acting oddly. Stopping we could see that sure enough, the cheetah had made an attempt at the wildebeest and was amongst them, swiping and dodging and seeing if he could scatter the herd and single out a target. 

It was amazing to see, dust kicking up in the dawn light and animals running all over the place. The cheetah had lost surprise early on, and eventually the wildebeest realized there were a lot more of them than there were cheetah. They organized half a dozen or so larger wildebeest began to chase down the cheetah. I’m no expert on cheetah or wildebeest behavior, but we have been on a safari or two and never seen or herd of such a thing. But there it was, a line of wildebeest running down a cheetah. He made haste, and though he easily outstripped the wildebeests’ pace he’d certainly failed on this hunt. 

In short order he made it to a stand of trees and disappeared. Five or six wildebeest stood guard at the tree line while the rest of the herd settled down. We watched for a while and eventually the guards stood down, slowly regrouping. It was totally exciting to watch the whole thing, what incredible luck! Cheetah are very rare here, and to get to see that whole interaction was great.

After a similar route we continued to see the large herds of grazers, and also happened upon more lions, five females and one young male. They were hanging out in the shade of a sausage tree in high grass grass. In the heat they were not up to much and we agreed to check on them later.

On the evening drive we had no particularly special sightings, though we did get a nice display of hippo yawns, as well as what we had found to be ‘normal’ for Busanga, a crap ton of antelope peacefully grazing on shoots of green grass, so many they stretched off to dots on the horizon. 

On our way back to camp we allowed time to check in on our lionesses. They were sprawled out in the grass, still trying to cool off. Sometimes you get lucky and the young ones will perk up early, but other than a short moment of alertness at a distant antelope, it was lounge time for these cats.

The lodge vehicles and guests are allowed to stay out for a night drive and might luck out and see the lions hunt, but we had to be back in camp by 1830, one downside of self driving. Finally we conceded that there would be no lion activity and headed back to camp, passing a herd of roan and spotting a side striped jackal perfectly camouflaged in the grass. 

Glad had another fire laid on for us and we invited him to join us for a beer. He was amazed we’d seen the cheetah, he seemed very excited about our sightings. He declined the beer, opting for tea instead, but he sat down and had us all fascinated within moments. He told us of the village he is from north of Kafue, most of whom are the traditional fishermen that were expelled from the park years ago. He relayed the fascinating customs of the local festivals of various tribes, told us about the languages that everyone speaks to each other. Zambia has 73 languages, but about six are primary, and almost everyone knows a few to be able to communicate well with people from different regions. 

After all this he told us of his ambitions, to maybe open a lodge someday just outside the park. He has a place all picked out, he said with a nice view of the Lunga river in the game management area (GMA). He even showed us on the map where it was, and encouraged us to bush camp there and tell others about his dreams in case we happened on someone who might be interested in investing.

We also were curious to know what will happened after we leave. How long will he be here. Glad confessed that he had only worked at this camp for five days prior to our arrival. His previous assignment having been at the exclusive Wilderness Shumba Camp, but that was seasonal. He liked the owner of Ntemwa very much and agreed to be one of only two caretakers to spend the rainy season here and look after things.

When the rains come these camps are all completely inaccessible for almost six months, with supplies brought in by helicopter. He said that Ntemwa and the other camps all become islands, and the caretakers can only move about via canoe. Sometimes he said they get together and socialize, even though it’s many kilometers of canoeing to rendezvous with another camp. 

With the rains also comes the wildlife, those thousands of antelope, and ensuing predators, are pushed by rising water levels to the edges of the plains. That means towards and into the camps. 

I was totally captivated, and imagined what an interesting untold experience these caretakers were having. For a few moments I fantasized about joining them, learning the local language and canoeing around the wilderness with lions and leopards about. 

Glad also asked us about our homes, about California and America. He seemed to really enjoy talking to us, and later confessed that he was so happy we’d come to stay, that after this it was only one other person to talk to and it became so boring. 

Eventually Glad took his leave and we ate our late dinner.  Dark clouds were looming in the east and it looked like we were in for another round of rain. 

Pete commented on the tiny pond, barely more than a puddle, that sat in front of the chalet. It had so little water in it that the fish in there were almost dry, gasping at the air after depleting the oxygen in the little water that remained. He said that it had better rain soon or those fish wouldn’t make it. I pointed to the horizon, “Looks like they are going to get it.” But Pete remarked that another rain like last night wasn’t going to cut it. “For those fish to be okay it’d have to rain so much that we’re not going to make it out of here tomorrow.” And he was nearly right.

A Narrow Escape from the Plains

The rest of us had cycled through the shower as we made dinner, but Jenny had deferred to be the last. Rain seemed more imminent and we rushed to finish dinner, put things away and brush our teeth before it was time to hunker down for the night. Jenny dashed off to squeeze in a shower. 

I should mention that we are learning that rain in Zambia, at least in this season, also means thunder and lighting. The lightning was getting closer, and the rain came. And properly. We made for the tents. Except Jenny of course, who was still in the shower. The storm arrived with untamed vengeance, crack of lighting close by and tremendous rolling thunder.

I lay there in the tent, the rain coming very heavy and wind buffeting the tent as we had parked broadside to the wind. All well and good when seeking a trace of a breeze to temper the sweltering heat, but now it was a mistake.

The tent shook and lighting was now closer still. I was having a spousal quandary. Do I head into the maelstrom and fetch Jenny? Or was it stupid to put another person out there? And what exactly was I going to do that Jenny could not do herself? I balanced my perceived husbandly duties with the fact that a giant lighting storm raged overhead scared the shit out of me, all while feeling cowardly lying in the relatively dry tent while she was out there in the darkness of the storm, rain lashing and lightning cracking nearby. Eventually I decided that Jenny is a capable woman and would think I was an idiot for getting wet and bringing more dampness to the tent.

After what seemed a very long time I saw a flash of her headlamp in the darkness and she finally made her way back. It turned out that she had been sheltering in the chalet, waiting for the rain to ease, but it never did, so she went for it.

The storm was on top of us now, and moving slowly. **CRRAAACKKK!!!!** Lightning slammed down very close and I felt it in my chest. There was no time at all between the flash of light and the massive noise. I jumped and we both were squeezing to be in the middle of the tent.

A ground tent was starting to seem like not such a bad idea. We were seeing enough lighting tonight to comprise the entirety of all lightning I’d ever seen my entire youth combined. Jenny on the other hand likes a good lightning storm, it reminds her of the monsoon season in Arizona of her youth, but I do not share that nostalgia.

I know two people that have been struck by lightning, one twice, and I’d rather not add myself to the list. All the time people say, “your more likely to be hit by lightning than…” Well, the CDC says, “Lightning is one of the leading causes of weather-related fatalities. But the odds of being struck by lightning in a given year are only around 1 in 500,000. However, some factors can put you at greater risk for being struck.” Oh, good. Except I’m betting that one of those factors is being right in the middle of a giant fucking lightning storm while sleeping on top of your car.

I was not stoked. Isn’t there something about not being the tallest object around being a good thing? We were parked near a stand of trees, and that viewing platform thing, so that was something. But wasn’t there also something about how you’re not supposed to be next to a tree? And then we were in an aluminum roof top tent, how does that figure? At least the tires should theoretically insulate us.

All this was running through my head as the lightning cracked all around us, claps of thunder roaring. Driving rain smashed into the tent like hail. The bolts of lighting were so close together was impossible to count the seconds between strike and thunder, and the thunder was a constant rolling tympani of sound. Not that I needed to count the seconds to tell the distance, because it was obvious that the storm was right here.

Frankly I found the whole thing terrifying. And this is not to mention the tiny detail of what this was going to do to the roads for our drive out. Eventually the rain eased the smallest amount and mercifully the lightning and thunder moved on.

Finally we managed sleep. With fitful sleep we noted that the rain came all night. After a brief pause I managed a nighttime pee, just as the rain began to come again, and the storm redoubled its efforts. More lighting and thunder, again too close for comfort.

The following day we had a big driving day to make it from here to McBrides Camp. Though it’s only 54km as the crow flies there is no road through, so it’s an all day affair of leaving the park and reentering from the east.

We rose at the agreed upon hour of 0530 to the dim gray light of overcast skies and steady rain. Everyone checked in on how the night went and we were all in one piece, though Pete and Melissa’s tent was half immersed in a small newly formed puddle. One ray of good news, the fish in the pond that Pete was so concerned about were definitely going to be fine. 

Final ablution note – Open air facilities are great, I am mostly a big fan. Except maybe the actual toilet should have some shelter over it, as using the actual toilet in the pouring rain is not all that practical, not to mention that there was significant toilet paper casualty. 

Packed up and away with everything, wet though it was, we knew that we were in for a big day. Never being one to pass up an opportunity to take a pontoon (hand operated ferry), the original plan was to head back to the Moshi airstrip junction and turn left, taking the spinal road to the north out of the park, arcing our way east to the Lunga pontoon and then south to the Lubungu pontoon and eventually to McBride’s camp. This route is also shorter, and more interesting. Word to the wise, “more interesting” usually spells trouble. However Charlotte McBride had confirmed this route was viable.

Now Tyrone McKeith’s words were echoing in my mind, “…it might be a very tough drive..” Indeed it might. We consulted with Glad, who thought that the road to the north would still be drivable, as it is a bit higher in elevation than the road to the south. Pressing further he confessed that he had never in all these years working in the park taken the road to the south, as his village is to the north. He consulted with some park staff that happened to camp with him the last night and they suggested the opposite, that we’d be much better off taking the spinal road south. 

This jived a bit more with my previous research, that the road north was “interesting” in the best of times. But we were getting ahead of ourselves. We had to get to the spinal road first before worrying about that. 

Saddled up and 4×4 engaged we left, driving out of camp the road quickly became a small river of water, but the traction was good. We’d encountered this before in the Central Kalahari. Where though the road was flooded and the adjacent ground close by appeared dryish, in fact the adjacent turf was soft mud saturated with water, and if the compacted road surface would hold water it was also hard enough to provide traction. 

So we stuck to our small river of water and kept on. Up and down at times, mostly only six or eight inches deep, with the occasionally hidden hole that we plunged across, water spraying over the hood and wipers swiping furiously to clear the windshield. 

I was nervous driving. The going so far had been good, mostly hard packed sand. But as the plains necked down the road started to traverse long sections of mud where we dare not stop. Keep up momentum and hope for the best was the plan. Sometimes I could feel the heavy back end of the cruiser slide a bit, but before it got too out of shape we’d reach firmer substrate, the tires would grab and we’d lurch ahead. 

In some stretches the tires spun furiously, shedding mud out of their chunky treads and barely getting enough grip on the next revolution to propel us forward. I was getting my education in mud driving this morning.

We were making kilometers though and I was starting to gain confidence in the mud and as usual the cruiser was hugely impressive, soldiering on, an ox without comment. 

Finally we came to an innocuous looking cambered inside corner, a small right then left. I turned the wheel and nothing happened, the cruiser just went straight and heading for a small ditch. I lifted my foot off the accelerator we came to a stop in the mud before we were past the precipice. There was no use trying more, I’d just send us into the ditch faster. Everyone had raised eyebrows and was worried. I engaged the rear diff lock, put it in reverse and hoped for the best. She moved slowly, wheels whirling around and just barely grabbing traction dig a hole.

Now we could try again, but in this turn we couldn’t see how we wouldn’t just slide right back into the same spot. After a little discussion Jenny got out to scout. It’d stopped raining by now, but the tsetse flies were thick and we had a little comic relief in the cab watching Jenny’s arms windmill about to discourage the flies while she looked for a path forward. 

Hopping back in the cab she gave us the briefing. To the left, disaster. To the right was a wide flat surface, clear of grass and shrubs, but totally underivable soft mud. In the middle, our road funneling us to the ditch in the apex of the corner. However, the road had been graded and there was a heap of dirt on the right side, between the road and the muddy field. She suggested we dry to drive up a tire over this heap, into the muddy field, and keep the other tires on the road. We’d be ‘hooked’ by the small berm. With diff locks on it should’t matter if we lost traction on one tire, and we would be guided around the corner.

Not quite your normal off road driving technique, but everything else seemed certain to end in failure. The cruiser heaved over the berm, and immediately the rear end began to slide off to the left towards the ditch. But the front right tire was over the berm, and it worked. Tires spinning, mud flying everywhere and engine revving with a lot more fuss than our speed suggested, we slithered our way around the corner. It looks way less scary in the video, but check it out.

Everyone was pretty pumped, and we discussed the “would you rather”: a) be stuck in black cotton soil in 40°C heat (which we’d already done), or b) be stuck in the cool weather of Kafue while you are murdered by tsetse flies? We all agreed we’d take the 40° heat. 

We didn’t know it at the time, but that was our last serious obstacle. A few more times we wormed our way through mud, tires throwing up chunks that stuck to the rear view mirrors and windows and onto the fenders, but no more times did we cringe in fear.

Finally we made it to the spinal road. We pondered our route. To the north, an interesting road, pontoons, and a much shorter route. To the south, certainty of a good road, safety, and a guaranteed long day on the road. The sky was very dark and brooding to the north, still raining. To the south, a few blue skies and mostly cumulus. 

I’m told discretion is the better part of valor. We’d all had enough adventure for the day and we turned right. 

Part way back we even got a treat of seeing three lions right off the road. Eighteen lions in three days at Kafue, we were lucky. At the park gate the ranger said they hadn’t had any rain at all. From there we had to drive all the way back to Mumbwa to make the turn for McBride’s camp.

Next time…McBride’s Camp and Lusaka.

The Nitty Gritty

Route – I’d recommend the M20 route via Landless Corner to Mumbwa to those coming from the North and heading to Kafue. From Fringilla Farm to Mumbwa was 2h 45m

Nov 9th, 2021 – 

Fringilla Farm to Ntwemwa Camp – 374km, 10h 8m including various stops. I’d say that you could drive from Lusaka in a day provided you make an early start. 

Mwumba has fuel (probably) and anything else you need heading into the park.

Hook Bridge Gate to Ntemwa was 109km, 5h 3m including a lunch stop.

Ntemwa Camp – Located at S14° 20.265′ E25° 58.928′. We booked this pre covid at the old rate of $150/camp site. There is a new higher price for self drivers quoted per person instead of per campsite. Generously Tyrone charged us the old price and not the new price. 

I have read reports of people camping here and the camp being a little more put together than when we were here. But please do not be put off by any details in my report, we had an excellent stay here and Pete declared it the best camp of the trip. 

See the attached brochure for Ntemwa camp Self Drive Special.