Our goal with this trip was exploratory: We were reconnoitering a route and itinerary for future safaris we intend to lead into the Maasai Steppe country of northern Tanzania, where very few tourists venture. We plan to combine backcountry forays and mobile camps with lodge stays in several of the best game viewing areas in Africa, and immersion into Maasai culture at several villages where we are assisting community conservation and ecotourism projects - for a broad experience not duplicated by the standard tour operators.

Twelve adventurous friends and acquaintances agreed to come along as Guinea pigs, paying a reduced rate with the knowledge that this was an experimental trip, and likely to be frequented by challenges. It was, in spades, but the experience was also unforgettable.

We traveled with a Maasai guide I had met on a previous trip to Tanzania, who procured  three Land Cruisers for our use: an 80 series and two 75 series Troopies, all with diesel engines (even diesel is about $4 per gallon in Tanzania—you do not want a petrol V8 for long-distance work there).

Unfortunately it developed that all three of our vehicles were actually cast-offs from other safari companies. Mine showed 376,000 kilometers on the odometer (about 230,000 miles) and Roseann's wasn't much newer (and the speedometers and odometers no longer worked, so it was anyone’s guess how much they really had endured). The windows on Roseann's 80 wouldn’t roll up—immensely bad news for some of the roads we covered—and the steering in all three had what I can only describe as generous amounts of play. Brakes seemed to work alternately on each wheel every time the pedal was pressed, perhaps to distribute the work load more fairly.

Those of us used to conditions in the U.S. have a difficult time imagining the life of a safari vehicle in Africa. Even paved roads there tend toward awful (potholes in Zambia are so legendary, the standing joke is that you can tell the drunk drivers because they’re the only ones who go straight), and the off-highway tracks can be brutal. The vehicles are constantly overloaded, and sometimes driven straight cross country in pursuit of game, slamming into warthog holes that could swallow a 50-gallon oil drum. It was a tribute to the quality of the Land Cruiser that our three were ambulatory at all.

Our initial explorations took us to several lodges, national parks and wildlife areas, including the awe-inspiring Ngorongoro Crater, a grassy volcanic dish eleven miles across and teeming with game (we watched one pride of 17 lions napping after a meal). Then we headed through Oldupai Gorge, where the Leakeys explored Mankind’s earliest glimmerings, and into the wild. Our path took us virtually off-tracks across several huge valleys on the edge of the Serengeti ecosystem. We saw one other vehicle on this section of six hours of driving - and certainly no wageni (tourists).

Jackals darted in front of us, Maasai morani (warriors) strode across the vast plains, and ostriches gazed at us as we blasted by trailing huge clouds of dust. Near Wasso, a small Maasai town, we came upon a herd of 38 giraffes, the largest group I had ever heard of.

We spent four days at a mobile camp put up for us by Destination Africa, a safari company owned by Hagai Kissila, who is a Maasai. Hagai’s superb setup is what we will use for all the mobile camps on future trips: standing height canvas tents with beds, toilet enclosures, and showers fed by water heated at the cook’s fire. In the center of camp is a huge dining tent covering a long table set with cloth and linen and china. Hagai’s cook is a master at producing fresh bread and five-course meals worth of any lodge. Before dinner we enjoyed cold Tusker beer (so named because the founder of the company was killed by an elephant) or South African wines. There’s even laundry service—ironed if you wish.

From this camp we explored the area on foot and found a hippo pool in the nearby river, identified leopard tracks in the dust of a game trail, and listened to lions and hyenas at night. Every day Maasai Morani (warriors) showed up at camp, or hiked with us out of curiosity, dressed in their full traditional red shukas and carrying the effective, long-bladed Maasai spears. I brought home a lion’s claw from one young man—he and several friends had killed it when it began preying on their cattle. The Maasai still sometimes use a cooperative strategy to hunt lions: One man with a rawhide shield induces the lion to charge, another rushes in and grabs the lion by its tail while it tries to maul the first, while a third attempts to run it through with his spear while avoiding ventilating his companions. Two men stand by as backups in case one or more of the first team falls hors de combat.

We also visited a nearby Maasai village, still so unused to outsiders that the children were fascinated by the pale eyes and skin of several of the women with us, and initially terrified of my friend Bruce’s beard.

We then drove west to the mesmerizing wildlife sanctuary of Serengeti National Park, where Roseann saw her first cheetah on her birthday (Roseann’s, not the cheetah’s). This extension allows another relaxing lodge break, albeit with distinctly lower quality cuisine than that in Hagai’s camp.

In Serengeti I got a huge kick out of following Roseann’s vehicle and watching the reactions of other guides driving toward us as they saw her. She was the only female guide or driver we saw the entire trip, and the African guides nearly went off the road gaping at her. At Lobo Lodge we were talking to one of the staff, and mentioned that Roseann was driving. The fellow said, “Oh! So you’re the one everyone’s been radioing about!”

Our return trip toward Karatu along remote back roads became challenging early on when my Land Cruiser stopped starting, despite a battery transplant and thorough connection cleaning. Hamna shida, as thay say in Swahili (no problem): we just push-started it and let it idle the rest of the day. Then Roseann ran over a hidden bit of broken leaf spring, which leaped up into the fan and radiator of her 80 with much noise and spraying of coolant and fan bits. We decided to leave the 80 where it was along with a young man who was accompanying us as scout and mechanic, and put the rest of the group in the other two vehicles. The other 75 went ahead, driven by our guide, to get as many people as possible to the lodge where we had reservations that night, while I piloted my 75 in his tracks.

Night came with us still 30 miles from tarmac, not a light in the world that we could see, and a faint trail to follow. Soon it became clear that at least part of the starting problem lay in the charging system, as my headlights began to dim until nothing but a feeble yellow glow showed on the trail, then not even that. The diesel, free of reliance on ignition, continued to putter happily, but we were driving in pitch dark. Hamna shida: I reached into my field bag and pulled out my Surefire 6P lithium flashlight, and had my passenger aim it in front of us. The light produced was as good as the headlights had been at their best, and we continued in style to the pavement and lodge, dodging the odd zebra and Thompson’s gazelle that ran in front of us.

We had many more experiences than I can retell here. After the rest of the group flew home, Roseann and I spent several days with Hagai, who will be working with us on future trips. He has just built a permanent tented camp, called Whistling Thorn Camp, next to Tarangire National Park, a superb location for a base camp. The area is in the Kwakuchinja Wildlife Corridor, an area identified by the African Wildlife Foundation as critical to protect from encroaching development. One of Tanzania's largest herds of elephants relies on this corridor for moving between the protected national park areas.

We are now working on an itinerary that will include a combination of game viewing in the parks and wildlife management areas, with stays in lodges, along with explorations of the Maasai country at Whistling Thorn Camp and from our mobile camp near Wasso (which requires a truly adventurous drive, through some very remote and stunning wilderness, to reach). At our camps, unlike inside the parks, where movements and activities are strictly controlled, we can ramble on foot and enjoy night game drives, the best time for spotting leopards, civets, genets, and other nocturnal animals. We’ll also vist the Maasai villages as guests rather than mere gawkers. We might also be able to go hunting with a group of Hadzabe Bushmen near Lake Eyasi.

We are helping Hagai with his community conservation project at his Whistling Thorn Camp at Tarangire NP, an idea that has gained much momentum in Africa recently. Essentially the philosophy is to give equal importance to the conservation of both wildlife and people, not just one or the other. When local tribes benefit from wildlife, poaching is reduced or eliminated, and locals are willing to set aside their own land for conservation. For example, Hagai’s permanent camp is set in a large parcel he leases from the local Maasai village, and is bordered by the national park. The village receives a fee for each guest night to offset the loss of grazing land, the national park gains a buffer zone in which animals can wander without harassment, and guests at the camp enjoy game viewing from their tents, or walks with Maasai scouts.

Future projects we, and our guests, will be helping with include establishing a Maasai game scout (for protection) program, a more commercially viable craft sales program for the women's coop, and a honey production program. (It is interesting to note the extreme economic differences between the Maasai clans near Tarangire NP and those near Wasso; the latter are much wealthier, where the former are facing growing poverty due to marginalization caused by urban settlers setting up small farms and locking up formerly open land. The Maasai here can no longer move nomadically, following the rains and good grazing, and are losing their livelihoods and culture, as they can no longer afford things like big manyattas for their warrior age groups.)

So we have high hopes to assist in the conservation of an important wildlife corridor and a culture facing extreme change. Community conservation is a fantastic tool when engaged with ecotourism at the local level: Guests will enjoy remote driving through a still-wild Africa, incredible wildlife and cultural experiences, dawn views over Ngorongoro Crater and the Serengeti, and the knowledge that they are contributing to meaningful on-the-ground conservation.