Gorilla Trekking in Congo: Encountering the Spirits of Odzala's Rainforest
Africa's vast Congo Basin, once called the 'Heart of Darkness,' captivated Victorian explorers seeking mythical beasts. Embark on a gorilla-tracking safari through its lush rainforests. This firsthand account, originally from Lonely Planet Traveller magazine by former contributing editor Duncan Craig, brings the adventure to life.
Rain cascades through the canopy, dripping onto the forest floor. A band of men navigates massive buttress roots and rigid vines. Leading them is an impish figure with a drooping moustache and hat, swigging brandy. Months in this endless rainforest, fueled by honey, occasional monkey meat, and obsession. His quarry: the 'njena,' a legendary creature unseen by Western eyes—a ghost of the Dark Continent.
The man pauses, examines a gnawed root. A small tree shakes; a branch cracks. Rifle ready, he pushes through foliage. Parting leaves, he beholds the 'king of the African forest.' 'A sight I'll never forget,' he later wrote. 'It rose on hind legs, face hellish, eyes flashing fire. Roars like thunder, breast-beating in rage—then advanced...'
Nestled near Parc National d'Odzala in northern Republic of Congo, Oleme lies 200 miles east of where explorer Paul Du Chaillu 'discovered' gorillas. Southeast, a half-day's drive leads to Ngaga Camp. The route reveals the Congo Basin's contrast: savannah and forest linked by rutted tracks. Driver Maxwell Muswere revels in the jolts. 'Here, drunk drivers go straight,' he laughs, dreadlocks flying. Afternoon haze turns savannah pink; termite mounds loom like melting cathedrals. Butterflies scatter, blotting the sun; mud-caked buffalo flee from a waterhole.
Entering the forest feels like stepping into cool air—fresher, echoes amplified. Chimpanzees screech overhead; colobus monkeys race treetops, white mantles billowing. Women in vibrant liputa fabrics wave, panga knives at side, cassava baskets on backs. Anti-poaching patrols are rare; Congo's low density keeps 4.6 million people south near Brazzaville.
Dusk settles at Ngaga amid ginger scents and deafening cicadas.
Dawn erupts in birdsong; mist-shrouded forest stirs with shrieks and roars. Excitement builds as guides Karl and master tracker Zepherin (ex-hunter) prep the group—echoing Du Chaillu's pioneering thrill.
Tracking demands expertise: dense understorey slows progress to inches per hack. Plants vie skyward in twilight gloom; faint light glistens on leaves, broken only by a cuckoo's call.
Three hours in, Zepherin signals. Parting foliage reveals 10+ gorillas. Females forage with infants; a young male climbs effortlessly. Juveniles swing on vines like in a hammock. All orbit the silverback, audibly munching roots—his massive, muscled frame from plants alone.
A twig snaps; he glances—commanding, intelligent eyes. He resumes eating. 'He avoids fights,' Karl whispers. 'Bluffs deter threats.' Karl recounts a mock charge ending inches away, guiding gently—revealing gorillas' wisdom.
Wild encounters dispel Du Chaillu's demonic myths, born of Congo's mysteries fueling tales by Conrad and Burroughs.
The silverback signals; the troop vanishes into mist.
This excerpt from 'Spirits in the Forest' (Dec 2014 Lonely Planet Traveller) is by Duncan Craig, former contributing editor. Congo captivated him—vines tougher than Tarzan's.
