Sharing the Unique Animals of Samburu National Refuge with You

(TO VIEW THE PHOTOS IN THEIR BEST RESOLUTION, CLICK ON ONE.   THAT OPENS A FILM STRIP TGHAT YOU CAN BROWSE THROUGH.)

I recently responded  to a post on Facebook by long time friend and photographer Eberhard Brunner, who was telling of his travels through Africa in 1973.

 

In the story, he was heading to an area in northern Kenya called Samburu, and told of warnings from locals about the dangers there from roaming Somalis.

 

In response to my comment, he asked if I’d ever been to Samburu.   So, I went into my 2021 photo archives and dug out some photos to show him.

 

Samburu National Reserve is home to five “rare” species,  few of which are found elsewhere:   the reticulated giraffe, Beisa oryx, gerenuk, Grevy’s zebra, and Somali ostrich.

 

I thought I’d share the photos with you, along with some information about them.

 

The reticulated giraffe:

 

 

 

Giraffes are the tallest land mammal on earth, though the reticulated is the smallest of the nine varieties at 15 to 18 feet high, with a body length of 12 to 15 feet.   Males can weigh up to 3000 lbs., and females about 1500 lbs.

 

  Their rich auburn polygon patches are offset by striking cream-colored lines, with each giraffe having a pattern unique to itself.

 

 

The Beisa oryx is considered near threatened due to its declining population.   Lions, leopards, and cheetahs are the main predators of these medium-sized antelope.   Their ringed horns are thin and straight and grown by both sexes.   Some males have been known to grow horns up to four feet, though more common are those in the 30 inch length.

 

Both males and females have the same striking colors.

 

 

More closely related to the wild ass, the Grevy’s zebra is taller than its cousins, the plains zerba, which are more related to the horse.   They have longer legs and larger ears, as well as narrower stripes.

 

Reticulated giraffe and Grevy's zebra.

The population of Grevy’s zerbras has declined 54 per cent in the last three decades, with an estimate only 2000 left.   When I was at Samburu, the country was experiencing an extreme drought and wildlife personnel were providing hay for the zebra.   There was plenty of water to drink, but not enough rainfall to grow the grass these herbivores favor.

 

 

The Gerenuk.   What an unusual animal.    In Somali, the word gerenuk means giraffe-necked and it is so appropriate.   Another unusual trait of this antelope is its ability to stand on its hind leg and eat leaves from bushes.

 

Habitat loss has reduced to gerenuk population to near-threatened.

 

 

Somewhat smaller than the common ostrich, the Somali ostrich is unique in that its skin of pale blue-gray.   During breeding season, the neck of the common ostrich becomes red which the Somali becomes bright blue.   This ostrich has a wide range across several countries.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I think the scenery around Samburu National Reserve is some of the most pleasing of all the places I've been in Africa.

 

We came upon this lion finishing his impala meal in thick brush.   

A few minutes later, he and his brother made a mad dash across the river, running and leaping so the Nile crocodiles didn't catch them.

This little calf is sticking out its trunk to smell us.

A  leopard in thick brush close to nightfall.   My camera ISO was at 12800!

The prettiest of all the guineaufowl, from the neck down at least, is the Vulturine guineafowl, so called because its head resembles that of a vulture.

Beautiful bird.

Okay, that's it.   Hope you enjoyed.

Busted in Small Town Alaska

 

Chunks of ice are stranded at low tide in Turnagain Arm.

 

Pewter-colored skies, flat light, and occasional raindrops don't make for nice photographs, but I was determined to get out and find something to aim a lens at, knowing that anything I photographed would be surrounded by snow.

Snow, I thought, will cover up a lot of distracting things, historical or not.

Sixmile Creek.

 I wound up in Hope, a very small, former gold-mining town along Turnagain Arm.

 

I drove slowly up and down one-lane roads in residential neighborhoods, looking for subjects and peering into yards.  The roads were in that transitional state from winter to spring, partly snow, water, and ice, and partly gravel showing through.

Though I saw no one, I felt there were eyes on me as I wandered, turning around in driveways, stopping frequently.

I turned onto the main street where a lot of old cabins are located, most dating from the gold rush around the 1900s. 

 

 

I climbed up four- and five-foot rotting snow banks to get more of the cabins in view.   I passed the old post office, the social hall, and a café.

Window detail.

 

The historic museum was buried in snow so I couldn’t get close to several cabins there.

 

 

One of the many historic markers attached to a fence.

 

As I was leaving town, I pulled over to the side to make sure the cameras were secure in their seat belt. A van pulled up next to me.

 

Here it comes, I thought. A local is going to want to know why I was prowling the town. 

 

A man came around the front of the van as his Australian shepherd, riding shotgun, stared at me.

 

I rolled down my window, ready with an explanation and an apology.

 

"Are you the one who picks up trash along the highway?" he asked. I nodded, realizing he must have seen  my truck parked along the highway.

 

He smiled and stuck out his hand.

 

"I've been wanting to meet you and say thanks. If you ever need anything when you're in Hope, the lady at the post office knows where I am. Anything at all," he said.

Jamesway hut, similar to Quonset huts.

I have a fondness for old Jamesways and Quonsets because my family lived in one for several years when we first came to Alaska.

POST SCRIPT:

 I drove away with a full heart and remembrances of my many visits to Hope.   My parents loved to come here to pan for gold. 

I thought of one time when I'd stubbed my little toe and was sure it was broken.   It hurt a lot.   Sitting in the back seat, I rolled down the window and stuck my foot out.   The cold air felt good and my toe didn't hurt as much.

 I sometimes bring visitors here to eat at the Seaview.   

And, Hope is one end of the Resurrection Pass Trail, which I've hiked and snowmobiled and run my dog team along.

The Day the Earth Broke, Part Three

For the final post in my recollections of the 1964 Great Alaska Earthquake, March 27, 1964, follow the link:

http://gullible-gulliblestravels.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-earth-broke-part-three.html

Part Two, 1964 Great Alaska Earthquake

 For part two of this event:

http://gullible-gulliblestravels.blogspot.com/2010/03/day-earth-broke-part-two.html

In Commemoration of the 1964 Great Alaska Earthquake of March 27, 1964

Please follow the link.

http://gullible-gulliblestravels.blogspot.com/2010/03/day-earth-broke.html

Birding in Mid-March???

 

Sunrise over Kachemak Bay in Homer.

(Almost all the photos in this post are from past years.   We were chasing birds, not taking tourist shots.)

When my birding buddy Leilani called to invite me to accompany her to Homer to photograph the first evening grosbeak sighted on the Kenai Peninsula, I looked at the huge 10-foot high piles of snow in my yard and thought she was nuts.

Birding in mid-March?   That's the very definition of March Madness and has nothing to do with basketball.

But, I realized it would do me good to get out of the house for a while, even if we could never find that yellow bird that is way north of its normal range.  So, I packed up a change of clothes, my travel laptop, made sure the batteries were charged on the two cameras I would take, and all the paraphernalia required for the devices.

Leilani lives about 150 road miles north of me.   The trip was aborted before she got within a hundred miles of my place.   A blizzard with white-out conditions was raging along Turnagain Arm, notorious for its windy weather.   She called to cancel, turned around and went back to Palmer.

Parked on the Spit.

We both went back to bed for a couple hours, each in our own homes.

As it usually does, the weather did an about-face and, while not great, was decent enough for her to try again.   She arrived late-afternoon and we decided to stay here for the night and start out early the next day.

One must be flexible when one lives in Alaska.

In a previous chapter of our road trip, I mentioned stopping off in Ninilchik to see if we could find the beautiful Harlequin ducks in the creek that runs through the village.  HAH!  It was frozen solid.

We found some cool old buildings and a couple song sparrows to photograph, and went on our way to Homer.

It was too early to check into the hotel, so we went right to the 4.5-mile long gravel arm that reaches out from Homer and is called The Spit, and is thought to be part of a moraine left from an ancient glacier.  

From an overlook above Homer, with The Spit reaching out into the water.

For practical purposes, it's a dividing line between Cook Inlet that runs up to Anchorage, and Kachemak Bay, the body of water to the East.

It's a lot different today than the Spit I recall from the 1960s.  That Spit used to wash out in places with every big storm.   Since then, it's been fortified, built up,  and reinforced with large boulders.

Instead of an emphasis on commercial fishing, freight, and maritime support, it is now a tourist mecca with dozens of small shops built on  pilings and boardwalks on one side of the road.  On the other side, are buildings with their feet on the ground.

Scattered here and there are campgrounds and RV parks.

Years ago, when the canneries were operating here, employees would camp in tents as there was no housing.   They were called Spit Rats.

Many fishing charters are based here, with salmon and halibut being the most sought-after fish.  There's a lot of recreational fishing here, too.

Leilani and I were in Homer last summer when the lupine was in full bloom and making quite a splash.

Today, we headed right for Freight Road.  It curves around to the far side of the small boat harbor.  Kachemak Bay is on one side and the more industrial operations on the other.  

We kept our eyes on the bay as we drove along the bluff.  Nothing.  We parked at the far end where the entrance to the small boat harbor is and chatted with a very vocal American crow, then walked toward the small boat harbor.

Right away I spotted a couple red-breasted mergansers, waterfowl we don't see much of during the summer.   That did it.   We were stoked.

The light was against us and getting decent shots was almost impossible.  As the mergansers and some goldeneye moved farther into the harbor, we decided to go to the boardwalk and gangways on the other side.

The iconic Salty Dawg Saloon on The Spit:   these are photos from other years.

Note the eagle on the roof.

Eagle on roof.

Mules on beach.

This adult bald eagle had just stolen an otter carcass from a juvenile eagle and is celebrating.   I names it Rocky Bald-eagle.  (Think Rocky Balboa)

Condos and campers at the end of the Spit.

Downtown on the Spit during tourist season.

A rainbow and some nice light I caught one day.

Ferry from the Alaska Marine Highway system tied up to the dock in Homer.

Camping on the beach.

There's even a volcano you can see from the Spit.   This is Mt. Augustine, the first of four volcanoes on the west side of Cook Inlet.   Sometimes they erupt and spread volcanic ash all over tarnation.