The first day of our first safari, the 20 of us unload from the train in Bulawayo pysched to get our first chance to hike into the real African bushveld with the opportunity to get up close and personal to Zimbabwean wild game. We had taken an overnight train, the most common way to travel in Zimbabwe, from Harare to Bulawayo and most of us were feeling pretty refreshed after the trip and ready to move out into the parks. Shortly after unloading our packs from the train, we meet our guides for the trip. Our guides are safari operators from Black Rhino safaris, who routinely take tourists out into Matopos and Hwange National Parks to explore hosts of unmarked trails and to track wild game. After exchanging handshakes and a quick breakfast at a local coffeeshop, we waste no time piling into our safari vehicles and heading out into the bush.

Our safari vehicles for this trip are modified Toyota LandCruisers. The bed in the back of the truck has been removed to make room for three rows of benches in each of the vehicles. The benches are completely exposed to the wind and elements but for an optional canvas canopy that is suspended from U-shaped bars raised from the side of the bed. Setting out along the dusty dirt roads marked as Zimbabwean highways, the LandCruisers quickly become a dusty, dirty pleasure to ride in. The tracks of land beside the highway are barren, except for occasional rocky outcroppings in foothills rising from the windswept plain. Around Bulawayo, and indeed around most of Zimbabwe, there isn't a great deal of vegetation in the dry season and we are able to see long distances across the expanse of arid semi-desert as we make our way to Matopos.

Our first stop is at the foothills of Matopos NP where our guides stop to give us a chance to hike in a ways to an overlook that features a large portion of the park. On our way up the trail, we have our first real chance to talk to our guides and see what our first safari is all about. All 3 of our guides are well-schooled in the vegetation and animal life of the region. On our way up the trail we are introduced to a variety of different plant species, and our guides also throw in some of the history of the region into their walking lecture. As we approach the top of our climb, they take us across a cave marked on the inside with paintings from early bushmen who lived in the area. The cave isn't very large, but is unusually shaped like a half-sphere carved into the vertical face of the rock. The shape of the cave protects it from the elements such that the early paintings are well-preserved.

We leave the cave and resume our hike to the top of the bluff overlooking most of the park. Our guides indicate that Cecil Rhode's grave, which is located inside the park, is just at the edge of our vision to the east while the hills of rock and sandy soil blanket the terrain all around us. After resting a few minutes (and a quick game of hackysack) we head back down the mountain to resume our drive into the park.

Arriving at camp we set up tents (old-school, Rhodesian-army style) and wasted no time getting back out on the trail. We pile into the LandCruisers as before and make a quick exit from the campsite, hurried now as the onset of dusk is approaching in only a few hours. Now is prime-time for hunting (tracking) rhinos. Our first stop is a ranger station just outside the park proper where we pick up our tracker, an Ndebele native and member of the park staff. We bump along more dusty road towards the gate that encloses the park, taking note of the sign beside it that reads "unauthorized persons will be shot on site." Thankfully, we get authorized, and head on in.

The interior of the park is more arid savannah similar to the dry rocky foothills we've seen on the highway. Our LandCruisers amble along at a moderate pace over the road through the park until our tracker suddenly calls a stop. We look over the side of the vehicles as our tracker climbs out and points to marks in the road. "Rhino tracks," he says quietly.

Immediately we pile out of the LandCruisers. We are carrying little: some of us have water bottles, some have cameras. We are traveling light so that we can move quickly. The leader of our tour gives us a brief safety talk, warning us to keep as silent as possible and to stay behind our armed guides. With little further hesitation, we set off at a brisk pace in search of the rhino.

Single file, we move quickly and quietly through the dry brush of the park, meandering our way across small hills and dusty meadows, often doubling back on a parellel trail, constantly keeping our eyes and ears open for evidence of the rhino. For two hours we cross and recross the savanahh, following the spore of the black rhino and always keeping downwind of where we expect him to be. Crossing another section of dirt road, our tracker motions for us to stop. He points to a clearly defined track in the dirt. Three-toed, short hind step: black rhino tracks less than one hour old. It's nearing 7:00, however, and our tracker believes it is unwise to try to track the rhino so close to evening. Our guides agree. The chase is over for today: rhinos 1, students 0.

The next morning we strike out again at dawn. Once again, on the edge of the road our tracker spots the ever-so-slight disturbance in the dust marking the footprint of the black rhino. We pile out, and set off once more. The hike is winding like yesterday and we move quickly for nearly two hours before our tracker once again signals for us to stop. These tracks, he says, are also less than an hour old. It's paramount to keep absolute quiet from this point forward. Moving single file once again and carefully choosing our footsteps, we amble around a copse of trees where our guide is pointing into the bushes. Just beyond our view is the rhino... we're almost there. Just then the rhino hears our approach and the bushes rustle loudly with the hidden movements of the fleeing animal. Our tracker looks around in disappointment. Once the rhino has sensed us, there will be no way to track him down. He can also run much faster than any of us, so it is hopeless to try to find him again this morning.

All is not lost, however, for our tracker picked up on white rhino spore which he pointed out to us during the morning's hike. The white rhino is considerably more docile than the black, and hence easier to track. We resume our hike, now on the trail of the white rhino.

Our tracker is right, once on the trail of the slower-moving white rhino, we come upon a herd of three not long after we begin tracking. The herd is out in the open meadow, grazing on available grasses and for the most part, ignoring our approach. For a long time we stop to stare at our quarry. Never in our lifetimes have any of us been so close to a live rhinoceros. Their horns are clearly defined on heads bent low to the ground to seek out available food. For a long time, we merely sit and watch them eat.

We make it back to camp in the late morning, hungry after our long hike and looking forward to a large breakfast prepared by the camp cook. We are accompanied by a family of warthogs while we eat, looking hungrily at our eggs and cereal. Afterwards, our schedule permits a break. Some of us seek out remote parts of the camp to read or to write, some go off for a run, and some stay in camp. After a couple of hours our first lecturer of the trip arrives, Dr. Carla Woods, who is here to talk about none other than the behavior of the black rhino. After her brief slideshow and discussion, we break into separate groups and spend the rest of the day in smaller groups, exploring the park. Some go to see Cecil Rhodes' grave, some return to the trail of the black rhino in the hopes of tracking one successfully, and still others hike up Pumongwe Mountain overlooking the camp and the Matopos Valley.

After sunset, we return to camp for dinner and a plenary session. Two backpackers from San Francisco have come to join us by chance, and take part in our discussion. Tonight we focus on the topic of "wilderness," in an attempt to resolve whether Matopos National Park is a hopeless attempt to avoid man's interference in the natural environment, or a successful, if artificial, removal of man from nature. Around midnight we make our way to the tents to sleep until early morning, when we'll begin our next trek into Hwange National Park.

-- Eric Bielke