Bushcraft fire Masai method. Finger licking BBQ chicken. Bread cooked over campfire plus dawa
Reaching the campsite isn’t straightforward; the trails are unmarked, and the landscape stretches endlessly in every direction. Someone familiar with the area is needed to navigate the way. Once there, the isolation is striking—just open land, distant hills, and the sounds of the night.
At first, it seems manageable—hyenas are not as bold as lions, after all. But as the night deepens, their calls grow louder, echoing through the darkness. Movement can be heard in the distance, sometimes near, sometimes far, carried by the shifting wind along with their distinct musky scent.
The night stretches on, filled with brief moments of rest interrupted by rustling in the undergrowth and the occasional eerie cackle. It is not fear, exactly, but a lingering tension that never fully fades.
With the first light of dawn, the sounds begin to fade, replaced by the quiet stirrings of a new day. Morning couldn’t come fast enough.
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