March 2007 © Janet Davis

Tarangire National Park – February 27 – 28:

When we finally entered Tarangire National Park late Tuesday afternoon, we were more than ready to put our feet up but we still had a fair distance to drive before we reached our lodging for the night. Fortunately, the sight of the legendary baobab trees dotting the landscape on either side of the rough road in gave us something quite spectacular to contemplate.

With its massive trunk and squat, rounded canopy, the baobab (Adansonia digitata) looks more like a giant caveman’s club than a graceful tree. Yet that sturdy bole, those thick, gnarled, ascending branches and the relatively sparse array of leaves tell us something important about the tree’s survival strategy. Like cacti and other succulent plants, the baobob’s trunk conserves abundant water to last through prolonged dry periods. It thus becomes a popular stop for thirsty animals like the elephant, which can inflict serious damage on the bark and cambium layer by rubbing on the trunk to release the sap. Although baobab roots rarely exceed 6 feet in depth, they spread out over an area far greater than the tree’s height. This allows the root system to maximize its absorbtion of water from the short, infrequent bursts of heavy rainfall that penetrate only the upper surface of the soil. Baobabs further adapt to drought by shedding their leaves, and though this was supposedly the dry season, the unseasonal winter rains had enabled them to hold onto their foliage. Had the trees been leafless and the branching more visible, we might have mused on the ancient African legend describing how each type of animal was assigned responsibility by the gods for planting one tree. The hyena, vexed at being the last in line, planted his baobab upside-down with the result that the roots stick up in the air, instead of in the soil where they belong. (Read more on the baobab.)

Tarangire is the third largest park in Tanzania and boasts a complex and varied terrain, from acacia woodland to swamp to rolling savannah. It is important both as a permanent home for certain species and a migration corridor for others.

The drive into the park was our introduction to the shy, graceful impala (Aepyceros melampus) and specifically to the “boys’ clubs”, “bachelors” or “losers” that form herds of up to 30 redundant young males shut out by the dominant male impala at the head of large female harems. Impalas are mid-sized African antelopes and among the most common animals – and prey - on the African savannahs. The beautiful, ringed horns of male impalas curve backward and are the weapons of choice between competing males during the rutting season.

Just as we’d had quite enough driving for the day, the vans pulled into the Tarangire Sopa Lodge where we were greeted with refreshing drinks, registered and headed to our rooms. Cocktails and a trip briefing by Philip, our Safari Director, were followed by dinner and an early night to bed.

Wednesday morning’s game run featured more birds: a female Maasai ostrich (Struthio camelus masaicus), helmeted guinea hens, a tiny cinnamon-chested bee-eater and our first superb starlings, common as sparrows but oh-so-beautiful with their shiny blue feathers. A Kirk’s dik-dik (Madoqua kirkii), the smallest of the antelopes, was seen through tall grasses guarding his turf. This is accomplished by a daily application of urine or dung and augmented by a spray from scent glands near the eyes.

Giraffes and ostriches posed for photos in front of big baobabs and there were more impalas, this time a male followed by his huge herd of females, each giving a little leap as she crossed the road in front of our van. (When being chased by predators, impalas have been known to leap some 30 feet.)

Large sausage trees (Kigelia africana) were heavy with the oblong fruit that gives them their name and can be distilled and mixed with honey to produce a potent local brew. Over a tributary stream of the Tarangire River which runs through the park, Frederick pointed out a large sycamore fig (Ficus sycamorus) clinging to the bank and extending its roots into the damp soil it loves. The tree was cultivated by ancient Egyptians and its wood was sometimes used for their caskets. At the rest stop that marked the end of our run, we watched yellow-necked spurfowl and white-headed buffalo weavers hop about in the grass in search of crumbs from our snacks.

As we pulled into the lodge entrance, a bright flash of color from the roof caught my eye. It was a dominant male agama lizard (Agama agama) in all his blue-and-red splendor, soaking in the warmth of the hot shingles while hunting insects. Not far away was a female, looking demure and suitably drab in her conservative beiges and browns. Agamas are also called African rainbow lizards. Interestingly, the dominant male’s bright reproductive colors fade to brown at night; it takes the light of day to switch on his vivid hues. He also changes color when threatened and during fights. Like many wild creatures, the agama lizard has adapted easily to civilization, often preferring to search out ants and beetles in the rock gardens and pathways of tourist lodges over the grasses of the savannah. Agamas live in groups of 10-20 individuals, with an old dominant male and many younger males and females. (To learn more about the agama, check out this page.)

A buffet lunch served poolside ended our brief stay at Tarangire. Soon, it was back into the van with guide David as Frederick’s sidekick for another driving day as we drove out of the park and then northwest towards Ngorongoro.

As we passed Lake Manyara and the little town of Mto-wa-Mbu (Mosquito Creek), David told us about the Hadza bushmen who live in the region. An ancient nomadic tribe of hunter-gatherers, they are small in stature like their pygmy ancestors and speak in their own click dialect. They move about in a 1000 square mile area near Lake Eyasi, where they subsist on roots, nuts, tubers, fruit and honey and hunt game with bow-and-arrow. The Hadza version of man’s beginning, as related by Peter Mathiessen in The Tree Where Man Was Born resonates in the landscape around Tarangire: “Man, say the Hadza, descended to earth on the neck of a giaraffe, but more often they say that he climbed down from a baobab.”

Soon, we were climbing up the escarpment of the Rift Valley into the cool Ngorongoro Highlands. This took us into our final leg of the day, up onto the wooded eastern rim of the dramatic Ngorongoro Crater.

Next: Ngorongoro Conservation Area

Nairobi Amboseli Serengeti Maasai Mara Mount Kenya