A story for the grandkids...

While you were out listening to canned musak doing some christmas shopping, I was a million miles away... in the jungle of India, the place that Rudyard Kipling surely wrote about. I was in Corbett Tiger Reserve in Northern India, at the foothills at the himalayas.




This jeep-only accessible park is only open a few months a year, to let you test your chances to glimpse wild elephants (seen), leopards, antelope (seen), crocodiles (seen), thousands of species of birds, and of course -- the royal bengal tiger, king of the jungle.

Imagine - its 6am and you've just slept under a mountain blankets in a old (unheated) house on the banks of the river, in the dead center of the reserve, more than 50 km for any sort of 'civilization.' You hear the rapping on the door - 'come now - the elephants are ready.'


Wrapped in a wool blanket, still pushing sleepies from my eyes, I climb the elephant mount and on to the carriage of a majestic animal, with JP and two Australian college students. Its quiet, brisk... we set off slowly across the grassland and soon reach the edge of the forest. It seems enchanted, the morning light just breaking a few rays through the trees. The only noise is crunch of each gigantic step, the distant sound of birds, and the sound husky whisper of our driver, leaning down to tell secrets to his best friend, his elephant.

Soon, a lovely piney scent fills our nostrils and I see our driver reach out to grab some of the plants -- taller than the elephants -- and start to chew on it. And I realize, oh my GOD -- I have entered a forest entirely filled with giant cannabis plants!! REALLY? ARE YOU SERIOUS? Yes, quite.

But soon, the novelty is far surpassed and completely forgotten as we freeze in our seats (and nearly pee myself in my case) from the most terrifying sound I've ever heard -- The ROAR of the tiger!! Just meters from us!! Covered by the dense undergrowth of the jungle we don't see her, but the elephant knows where she is and TRUMPETS while charging forward, stomping down trees in his path... I look down and I am completely COVERED with marijuana from brushing up against all the plants in our charge. But the tiger has alludes us... we continue to pace slowly, trying to corner the animal. Again, I find myself with severe mixed feelings about whether this is actually a good idea. We hear the roar again, SO CLOSE, SO TERRIFYING. Again twice more. But alas, of the four elephants in circling the tiger (and her cubs) only two of the groups see her face as she retreats under the brush. All we see are the fresh, bloody remains of the antelope she has eaten for breakfast earlier that morning. Next time, next time.