When we first saw the amount of rain we were going to receive, it looked like a mythical figure on our weather apps, and by the next day had disappeared. A glitch in the matrix. What followed next was a couple days of uncertainty as the apps showed horrific amounts of rainfall, but disappeared within hours. This seesaw of anticipation kept happening. Until the anticipation was over. “Bless the rains down in Africa” says Toto. We were praying for it to stop. Within a matter of hours, the Klaserie River was totally impassable. A day later, our alternative route off the reserve was also closed. What started off as a fascination of this rare and historic weather event, soon churned into fear that tingled in our tummies. 

What rainfall we should have achieved in the entire year, we not only met but exceeded in less than a week. The Olifants River became a fierce and furious living beast as it roared and soured past its record height achieved in the infamous 2000’s floods. Many lodges along those banks were completely lost. Furniture inside rooms that were not able to be moved were tumbled around as water swirled and pulled its mighty force arounds rooms, creating a washing machine effect- smashing windows, tearing up floor boards, ripping away ceilings, light fixtures. Furniture would afterwards be found high in the tree tops. 

Luckily for us though, we lived at a lodge atop a slight vantage point with no major rivers close by. Our water hole in front soon turned into a lake, but our floors were dry (aside from our muddy footprints slipping and sliding along the mezzanine flooring). On one afternoon as the rain relented into a faint drizzle, we decided to do a road inspection between the lodge and the owner’s house (about a 10 minute drive). We got about half way there when we had to turn our Land Rover’s engine off. The road was completely washed away, with thigh high running water, exposing roots that should have been buried deep underneath the muddy earth and creating small, rocky gorges. 

Abandoning our vehicle for the time being, as well as our flip flops, we adventured along the road, slowly picking our way through, marvelling at the destruction. Sliding and jerking our way through, we made it past the worst section but decided to keep walking down the road to inspect a drainage line that we knew was now funnelling a river, cutting through its banks. We heard a deep but brief sound as we tentatively walked over the silty, rocky road made mostly of quartz and sandstone. Dismissing this sound for water dislodging a boulder in a nearby stream that normally wasn’t there, we continued our journey. We made it to the river, after observing a couple of elephants on the banks of a hill in the distance. Noting that the crossing was still not passable, and wouldn’t be for a good few more days, we turned and made it back up the slight incline, journeying leisurely back to our Land Rover. 

Feet slapping through smaller streams, we suddenly heard a sound that could not be dismissed: a head shaking, huge ears slapping against giant shoulders. An elephant. Taking deep breaths to keep myself calm, I knew I had to take Matts leave and rely solely on his expertise, trusting him with my short fat scruffy life. Signalling for me to back up, we “calmly” took a couple steps back and crouched down behind a Raison Bush. Peeking over Matts shoulder, I held my breath as we watched a herd of elephants walking through a thicket of Purple Pod Cluster Leaves that concealed them from us and into the open road ahead. The herd walked calmly along, rumbling, tearing grass up from its roots, stomachs bubbling as they gently made their way through the muddy veld. A baby elephant walked quickly up to his mother, a bit panicked by the idea of being left behind. The mother, seemingly entertained by his panic, touched the tip of her trunk on his forehead, I could have sworn I saw a glint of amusement in her eye. They carried on walking, to gradually catch up to the elephants we had previously seen. We relieved our knees from their crouch and slowly and quietly made our way back up the road to get another visual. Hand on Matt’s shoulder to keep him close, we could hear their huge leathery bodies scraping along Knob Thorn trees as they silently disappeared into the bush to a riverine below. 

I finally breathed for the first time and turned to Matt, relief in my eyes. He smiled knowingly at me as we both marvelled for a moment by this magical encounter we had just shared together. We briefly rubbed our bare footed soles, brushed off gravely gritty stones from between our toes, and made our way back up the road, leaving the elephants contentedly journeying on behind us.