Wild Trails

Wild Trails

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May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome and dangerous, wrote a friend.

No, not a curse, but a blessing. My wild trails have been all this and more; if only you care to walk with me, you will track the frustratingly elusive orangutan mom as she swings from one durian tree to another, flinging stinky peels at you in the darkened jungles of Borneo, saunter among blubbery sea lions sunning themselves on the beaches of Galapagos Islands, crane your neck to glimpse the languorous sloth clinging to the top branch in the primordial Amazon forest, but be careful as you pick your way through water bodies infested with caimans and land, stalked by stealthy jaguars, drive past a pride of bored lions swatting flies in the Savannah, halt and give way to an elephant family and cower in your jeep as  giraffes and ostriches check you out up close and personal;  marvel at hundreds of mother turtles lugubriously congregating on a lonely Orissa coast to perform their only motherly duty –  of laying eggs and burying them in the sand, travel in a jeep with a 11-foot king cobra curled up at your feet, or chase kiangs in the salt flats of the Rann or stare a striped cat – yes the big and elegant one – in the face, in the jungles of the Western Ghats.

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