9. demolishing demon d6 dozer

I was born in an era when we were destined to save the world. We applauded those who tied themselves to trees to save the forests or chained themselves to dozers to prevent them from demolishing the forests. Saturday afternoons were spent writing obscene remarks in cruelty-free lipstick on furrier’s shop windows.

The preservation of life was ultimate. We did not eat meat, never wore leather and our chants of ‘om’ haunted our parents. We listened to suicidal songs by Leonard Cohen, but Bob Dylan was the ultimate.

OK, so that was decades ago, but the imprint is there.

I’m totally convinced that Ken bought Milimani so that he could do his ‘boys and their toys’ thing. The first purchase, for a tidy sum that tilted the budget, was a Demolishing Demon D6 Dozer. You know the type – yellow, big feet, and lots of voomah. I was not around when the creature arrived and I certainly wasn’t privy to its future movements. 

(The picture on the left is the DDD6D in one of his more uselful moments. Pulling our tractor out of the Mkuze River. We never quite established how the tractor got there in the first place.......quite unbelievable!)

Dense bush surrounded the front of the restaurant, obscuring the view of the dam where animals come to drink. Within hours of the yellow peril arriving, it had cleared the area and the dam was suddenly visible. Nice, I’m sure but no-one warned me. I went down to the area to be confronted with what I called Armageddon. Tears welled in my eyes and were soothed with comforting remarks of, “You’ll see, the animals will love it. It’s going to be great.” Well, they did, and it is. Sadly, ‘1’ to the yellow peril.

Keeping such creatures is not cheap. Every time ‘he’ – couldn’t possibly be a ‘she’ – broke down, I rejoiced, but then the budget went for a song. Mechanics were called in and hours were spent discussing the innards of the great beast. Phone calls were made all over the country to source spare parts, none of which I was the least bit cooperative about.

Having been a city slicker beforehand, the concept of bush management was alien to me. It grows, so leave it. This caused trailer-loads of friction – with the DDD6 in the middle of it. Coo-ing remarks of how valuable ‘he’ is and how we could not survive without ‘him’ repeat themselves in my nightmares.

The ultimate insult to my ‘destined to save the world’ philosophy came with Shayamoya, meaning ‘catch the wind’ in Zulu.

In order for Milimani to become an internationally recognised lodge, we needed an airstrip. Dad was a pilot and his guidance was sought. A site on top of the ridge was chosen, but again I was unaware of this.

All I knew was Ken took guests for game drives and their ventures were recalled in hushed tones. Questions of ‘Where did you go? What did you see?’ were met with conspiratorial looks, but claims of ‘tons’ of impala, wildebeest, nyala and giraffe were blurted out. I personally had never seen so much game gathered in one place. Where was this paradise? The secret was almost given away when a friend returned saying: 

“Are you planning to land a Jumbo jet, or is this the Masaai Mara?”

I was cautiously escorted to Shayamoya, champagne in car to soften the blow. Ken had made his airstrip with the help of the DDD6D – and the animals love it.

Even so I have to confess that threats of burning the demon and chaining myself to ‘him’ still come chanting out the ‘70’s child in me.

Published in Country Life, September 2002

Other blogs by Lois Kuhle:

SMOKE RINGS IN CUBA. A TWO WEEK JOURNEY FILLED WITH SALSA, SUNSHINE AND SILLY PEOPLE:
http://smokeringsincuba.blogspot.com/2013/10/smoke-rings-in-cuba-journey-filled-with.html

COOL THOUGHTS. MUSINGS AND OTHER MAD MOMENTS:
http://loiskuhlethoughts.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-impatient-gardener.html