Also, this is part of Andrew’s Safari Series, if you missed Andrew’s first post, click here to start from the beginning.

Our alarm yanked us from a sleep six layers deep to call us home to crisp, cold Serengeti morning air and a still starlit sky.  Machine said we had to get on the road no later than 4:30 a.m., if we had any hope of covering all the territory, we needed to cover to get us to camp by nightfall. If Machine is worried about the distance we must go, we must really have a long way to go.

“Or if you rather, we can drive out of the park and around on the highways?” He asks. 

“Oh no, no, no, no!” We all said in unison. The more rally car road races we get, the better. Please!

We haul ourselves out of our perfect beds, wash our faces with the luxury of warm water contrasting the cool air, and then we radio our escorts to fight off any early morning predators hunting our gangly human bodies in the wee hours between our tent and the breakfast nook where we enjoy a hot pot of French pressed coffee and a light, pre-breakfast snack.

The plan at this point was to drive all the way across the Central Serengeti to reach the North Serengeti where Machine will hand us off to a new set of guides who will take us to see the Great Wildebeest Migration and (hopefully) a mass herd crossing the Mara River between Kenya and Tanzania. I had written this day off as a long driving day filled with mostly scenic dirt roads and nothing more, and I think we all wondered how five more days will ever live up to the past few - especially after the pinpoint perfection of sleeping in the open air of the Serengeti in five-star luxury accommodations. But the day cracked wide open with promise as soon as we saw the perfect orb of the Africa-Red sun rise over a line of umbrella trees. Machine let us stop a few moments to admire the view.

“Today, we have to find our own Leopard!” Leslie says.

“Yeah, Machine, can you order one up for us?” Jen echoes.

Machine chuckles, “We will be going through some leopard territory. We need to look up in the branches of trees like this.” Machine points up as we pass under classic African Serengeti tree, its sparse branches spreading symmetrically side to side, with flat clusters of leaves casting a comfortable dappled shade. Leslie’s eyes narrow with the determination of one so focused, squinting up into the trees. Let’s just say, I have my doubts. I often joke she’s most likely to be eaten by a wolf in the wild, as she usually cannot see what is directly before her nose.

A few short miles down the road, Machine stops to look up into a tree. “Mmm....no leopard, but look.” We follow the direction of his gaze to see the body of a small impala hangs from a branch. “That’s the leopard’s lunch he is saving for later. He will definitely be back to this tree at some point today.”

There is a hush as we peer through our binoculars to see the impala closer. You can’t come to the Serengeti without seeing this “Circle of Life” laid bare. It’s all around you. We are already racking up our “collection” of baby this and baby that photos.  Zebras, still soft and fuzzy with brown stripes instead of the jet-black ones they develop as they grow older. Tiny, tiny gazelles with their tails that twitch in time with the remainder of their herd, patterns in their coat designed to cast off the heat of the desert sunlight and shapeshift while they zig-and-zag in the hopes of avoiding the fate as a cheetah’s lunch. We wonder at this impala in the tree and the deft huntress that likely killed it and dragged it up there.

Just minutes more down the road, we come upon a huge herd of impala, the teenaged boys tangling their horns, the women escorting hundreds of babies, and the one adult male standing watch as they all make their way from here to there. Imagine being that guy, in charge of keeping this wily brood safe with murderous bloodthirsty villains stalking the bush all around you, all the time. Despite this, the whole herd munch their grass, jump and spring, play as if they have no care in the world. They don’t seem to live in fear of their inevitable demise.

We pass a heard of elephants, the family trotting from one area to another raising their trunks to sniff the air.  The Bull in charge of the herd fixes us with a wary eye and moves in our direction.  “Stay quiet, stay quiet,” Machine tells us. Of all these dangerous animals around us, none really pay much attention to the vehicles and the people in them - except elephants. Elephants are the most likely of these animals to become aggressive if they are displeased with the look of a safari truck. This elephant comes far closer than my comfort and stretches his ears out to their widest length.  He stomps and grunts, swinging his head from side to side stretching his ears out at least the width of our carriage if not wider to say, “Leave my family alone.” He walks a few paces away, then turns back to us and snorts again. Machine starts the engine, and we slowly move away.  This satisfies the elephant, and we carry on.

It is about here that we pass a cell repeater tower, and we get a WhatsApp update from Violeta the Cat Sitter: “I have some bad news for both of you,” She says over a recorded message. The collective mood drops as our Cat-Loving Throats tighten with concern. I click the next voice text. “Coco threw up, and Kitty ate a bird.” We all relax back in our seats.  Ah, yes, Kitty had been bird hunting every morning in Tanga, even before we left.  It was just a matter of time until our little 8lb predator made of love and fur captured and killed her quarry. And Coco? Maybe she just has a stomach-ache. She seemed otherwise no worse for wear.

Around the corner, we found yet another occasion to stop as three mother lions lounged very close by the road in the golden grass. “They must have cubs with them,” Machine said, combing the grass with a binocular search pattern. While he looked, we enjoyed watching the mother lion who, stood up, stretched, and padded over to the exact shade tree we were parked under! Her paws, thick and heavy, far wider than my own hand, remained silent as her feet fell in the grass. She stood in the shade for only a moment, trained her golden eyes on us, then flopped sideways in that classic cat-flop they use to take a nap. A second joins her, then a third, the last flopping atop the other two, causing a momentary jostling for position. We are so close, we can see the pinks of their nose and white of their chin whiskers, the way their ears flop and fold as they rest their heads, the squint of sleepy cat eyes, and the point of their fangs when they yawn. 800-pound cats just barely beyond my reach, but only just. I might get out and give them a chin-scritch after all.

"Wow,” Pete says.

He must be convinced these ladies are not animatronic.

We watch as one lion grooms the others, nibbling at the bugs taken root and pulling them from their skin. We are amazed at our luck to have these beautiful animals wander right over to rest next to us.

“They must have their cubs well hidden, though,” Machine says, “I can't find them.”

We stay every last-minute Machine allows us, but he was getting restless knowing the ground we had yet to cover for the day. "I'm sorry, guys, but we have to go.”

“Yes, yes, tear us away, Machine!  We will stay here all day if you don't put a stop to it. We all love the kitties!” Jen explains.

  Machine smiles, shoves us into gear and we bounce away. However, this isn't even close to the last time Machine is forced to stop for far longer than intended. 

We find a pride of lions with the cutest male cubs snuggling and harassing their older cousins. We learn that baby lions have spots, too.

After each stop, Machine zoomed off, faster and faster, growing evermore tardy for our arrival in the North. He had all but given up looking for leopards when Leslie screeches from the back seat. “STOP! STOP! STOP!" Her face cannot form the word she is looking for, she is so excited. She's pointing backward and upward dangling out of her window.  “Lll...lle.....LEOPPARRRDDD!” Machine skids to a stop, probably to a car filled with doubtful glances and rolling eyes.  There is no way Leslie spotted a leopard driving as fast as we were, in a tree no less. 

“Back...back...back....” Leslie says as Machine dutifully drives in reverse.  “There! See?”

In the branch of a tree directly above the road, indeed, sat a beautiful, spotted, golden and black leopard. Everyone laughs with surprise, "No way! Oh my gosh!"

He shifts positions, and we get an even better look. “Oh, my! Oh! Wow! He has a fresh kill in his mouth!"

The leopard is disturbed by our quick stop and roll backward; he decides to climb down the tree dragging his kill with him and running across the meadow to another tree in the distance.  We were a bit sad he moved further away, but eventually he climbed that tree and we got to watch him tuck his lunch away for later nibbling, then settle into a comfortable looking branch for an afternoon nap.

"Oh, my giddy aunt,” Pete says.

"You have very good eyes, Leslie," Machine says.

Leslie was pink with smug pleasure. I think the experience made her entire Safari.

But now, we really had to go. Machine doubled his speed and we zoomed with engines roaring and shocks springing across the Serengeti passing iconic changes of scenery “pride rocks" where lions must live, open grassy meadows where cheetahs must chase. We cut through the vast space sliding, floating, leaning at unbelievable angles, Machine picking the best line like a cross-country racing professional would.

“I want to back Machine in a rally car race," I say to Leslie.

"The Baja 500!" She says, sparks in her eyes as she bounces around in her seat and takes a moment to tighten her lap belt. “He says he is very fast at changing tires, too. He would win for sure.”

A rainstorm rolling across greener grassy fields does nothing to slow our progress, and we slide through mud puddles under the sharpening colors of a rainbow. Rain drops splatter in on our faces through the roof and open windows, we are all the more cheerful for it. Up and over a ridge, we drop down into a dry area, and the rain stops. We arrive at our destination just as the last crack of light deepens to a purple night sky.  We’ve arrived in the North Serengeti to witness the Great Migration.

 To be continued…