The Shadow of Kilimanjaro: On Foot Across East Africa

Combining moments of danger with moments of profound introspection, mountaineer/explorer Ridgeway details his journey from the top of Mount Kilimanjaro through the Tsavo game reserves to Mombasa, a month-long journey on foot, which allows him to experience man's primal relationships with the environment. Traveling with an experienced guide, two members of the Kenya Park and Wildlife Service, and two sharpshooters (in case of life-threatening danger), Ridgeway follows dry riverbeds across the savanna, seeking "tactile knowledge of Africa's wildlands and wild animals." Far more than a search for thrills, the journey offers Ridgeway an opportunity to observe breath-taking vistas and the full panoply of wildlife, from the elephant to the tiniest of birds, paying equal attention to all. Mourning the absence of once-plentiful animals from the bushlands near Kilimanjaro, and the decline of species elsewhere, Ridgeway contemplates the long-term effects of colonialism, big game hunting, poaching, traditional tribal values, climatic changes, and tourism, as well as man's seemingly innate tendency to kill certain species into extinction. Ridgeway, long a hunter himself, is an engaging author, both observant and thoughtful. A great admirer of hunter-turned-game-park-adminstrator Bill Woodley, whose two sons from the Park and Wildlife Service are on the journey, he provides a sensitive and impartial treatment of conservation issues. Extolling the work of elephant researchers Cynthia Moss and Joyce Poole, the latter of whom joins the group for part of the journey, he points out that they have acquired through study a kind of knowledge not available to hunters. Without preaching, he conveys "the big picture," making a compelling case for the fact that to preserve Africa's large mammals one must "fight fiercely not only to preserve, but even to expand, their wild habitat." Mary Whipple

Rick Ridgeway has written a very informative and entertaining account of his 300 mile hike West to East across southern Kenya in 1997. The walk was metaphorically in THE SHADOW OF KILIMANJARO beginning on the summit of that great mountain and spanning the different ecological zones of mountain moraine, foothills, savannah, scrub, desert, and finally tropical white sand beaches of the Indian Ocean coast near Malindi. More significantly Ridgeway writes about his journey in the shadow of others who have written famously on Kenya, most significantly Hemingway, Dinesen, and Blixen. At yet another level this story is set in the shadow of Kenya's colonial history and its current struggles as a developing nation trying to make its way in the modern world. Ridgeway deals with all the relevant issues - ecology and the environment, conservation, domestic politics, the economy, tourism, the romantic literary images, the colonial legacy, the Mau Mau uprisings, cultural, ethnic, and social issues. And he deals with them in the way good travel writing should. Simply present the facts as you get them and let others speak their truths. No moralizing and very little contextualizing and therefore very refreshing.The image of Kenya that emerges is that of a real country. Not too much of the fantasy and gloss of a romantic wilderness nor the equally unreal vision of warring tribes at THE ENDS OF THE EARTH. Just reality. Strengths, weaknesses, beauty, blemishes, issues, agendas, and concerns. All the things that face a people making their way on a rapidly globalizing planet. Although Ridgeway's Kenya is a very different place than the country I knew in the 1960's when I lived there in my youth, it's still as rich and as alive as I remember it and Ridgeway has done an excellent job of bringing it home.

I recently returned from Kenya and Tanzania where I climbed Mount Kilimanjaro and went on a safari across the Seregenti and neighboring parks. Reading _The Shadow..._ has me longing to flee my desk job for good and head back to the wilds of Africa. The book brought back memories of the trip of a lifetime, from the icy cold of the oxygen-starved summit of Kili to the vast plains of East Africa and my only regret upon reading the book was that my safari was in a car -- an amazing experience, to be sure, but I envy Ridgeway his chance to experience Africa and its wildlife from the "real" perspective, the one man has always occupied... on foot and thus always on alert. The book is a must-read for anyone who has been to or is contemplating going to East Africa; Ridgeway does a great job of discussing the history of the region and, in particular, the precarious balance between man and beast. The history of the conservation movement and cast of characters Ridgeway introduces is a wonderful way to learn more about the area and the people and policies that shaped its development. It's the latter focus, however, that makes me recommend the book even to those who've never been and never will be to Africa, because Ridgeway's ruminations about the interaction between man and nature, about what wilderness means to mankind, and, unfortunately, what mankind is doing to the last pockets of true wilderness that remain strike a chord that reaches far beyond the scope of his 250-mile walk. As he points out, North America once was "another Africa" with megafauna roaming wild just as the elephants and buffalo still do in Africa and, if we're not careful, the African wildlife may well go the way of all the large wildlife which mankind has driven to extinction. In one sense, it's a rather depressing book because at the same time I found myself caught up in the excitement, reliving the adventure and planning my next safari, there's a faint undercurrent of despair, as Ridgeway visits the Waliangulu tribal village and finds their way of life disappearing, as he roams through the Rhino Free Range Area where the nearly-extinct black rhinoceros population is protected. But, as Ridgeway quotes "To despair of the entire situation is a reasonable alternative. But the unsatisfactory thing about despair is that besides being fruitless, it's far less exciting than hope." The excitement, and even the hope, of this seasoned adventurer shines through throughout _The Shadow of Kilimanjaro_ as he strides through one of the earth's last truly wild places.

Rick Ridgeway provides unique insights into the landscape and climate of East Africa's lowland bush. At the age of 19, as a student, I was lucky enough to have experienced a Kilimanjaro climb as well as a hike in the hot Tsavo bush. The thoughts described by Mr. Ridgeway in this book tap some of my most sacred memories. But more than my personal connection to his experiences, the theme of wildlife conservation is presented from a well educated, historical and contemporary perspectives. It is becoming more and more important for all of us to become familiar with these conservation issues. Furthermore, Mr. Ridgeway communicates very well the physical and emotional demands of life in such a challenging environment. The Shadow of Kilimanjaro is a fantastic window into a part of our world that is incredibly harsh yet ineffably beautiful.

Rick Ridgeway brings a unigue perspective to the history and the present problems which face the country of Kenya and its wildlfe. Although the authors thoughts and comments occur during his "hike" through Keyna from the top of Kilimanjaro, Tsavo east & west n.p., to the Indian Ocean, this is more than just a travel book. We are introduced to many of the historic persons who shaped what is currently the national park system in Kenya. We are also introduced to those who presently hold important positions within this system. The book provided an excellent discussion of the important issues in regards to the balance of nature/wildlife, economic concerns, and the local peoples. I found the discussions of the Waliangulu (elephant people) an excellent example of the problem which not only faces Kenya but other parts of Africa as well. For those with interest in this part of the world, this book provides a refreshing point of view.