Once upon a time, we lived in a far, far away land in a teeny, tiny town in the middle of a ginormous rainforest.
You’d never believe this place.
In this land, waterfall streaked mountains stand as high as the sky. It’s a place where clouds, filled with buckets of rain, move like smoke, and the ground shakes and slides. Trucks as big as buildings rumble inside the earth scooping up rocks and boulders full of copper and gold.
Bulletproof choppers whirl in the sunshiny skies while fleets of white Toyotas and monster buses bounce around the rocky roads below. It’s a place where Papuans hoot and holler from mysterious places, and where loudspeakers broadcast calls to prayer.
It’s hard to believe that such a crazy land exists, but it does.
We saw it with our own eyes.
Tembagapua nestled in the Irian Jaya Mountain Range. Photo courtesy of sinarpapua.com
For many expatriates, returning home is often the most difficult and challenging part of the overseas assignment. Cross-cultural experts warn returning citizens about the dark side of repatriation, which involves developing a deep sense of not belonging. Expatriates commonly feel disconnected from their host country and strikingly disconnected from their motherland.
When we moved back to the U.S., we were prepared to tackle this part of the experience head-on, but we never felt disconnected. In fact, we transitioned back to the Phoenician lifestyle in a way that felt like we had never even left. Our life pieces fell into place seamlessly.
However, as the weeks and months passed, we began to realize that our life pieces from Indonesia were rapidly moving into the periphery of our existence. Occasionally, they would surface, but only for a fleeting moment before retreating back to their hiding place. As much and as hard as we tried to make them fit, they wouldn’t. It became clear that we needed to let that part of our life go.
That’s the hardest part of repatriation – letting go.
Somewhere, forty-thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean, Chris is quietly looking back on the past three years of his life, and preparing for the future. He will miss working at PTFI, the most challenging and rewarding job of his career. But, his feet are faced forward as he prepares to tackle new projects and responsibilities. No matter what the future holds, he will always have the bragging rights of having lived and worked in Tembagapura!
The 6:20am chopper landing after its arrival to Tembagapura from Timika.
This is not a final goodbye for Chris, just a “See ya later!” His itinerary to return home included the 6:20am chopper flight to Timika, which was/is followed by a string of connecting flights from Timika to Bali, Bali to Hong Kong, Hong Kong to L.A., and L.A. to Salt Lake City. After arriving in Salt Lake, Chris will rent a car and drive it to Idaho Falls, so he can pick up his Jeep Wrangler and drive it home. Safe travels, Ba Pak!
With Tembagapura-sized holes in our hearts, the girls and I are back in Arizona adjusting to life in the desert. A place where spirits of cowboys and outlaws still roam. Including America’s most famous vigilante, Wyatt Earp, who made history from the legendary shootout at the O.K. Corral.
Phoenix’s harsh and unforgiving terrain, amplified by triple-digit temperatures, is a severe change from Papua’s rainforest. It’s an ideal place to get heatstroke, step on a barbed cholla, get bit by a rattlesnake, stung by a bark scorpion, chased by a javelina, or trapped in a haboob. Tempered by spectacular sunsets and the summer’s monsoon, Arizona is a place where we are happy to be and to call home.
When we arrived in Phoenix on July 1st, the temperature was a blistering 113F at 11:30am!
Our front yard is full of barbs, spikes, thorns, prickles, spines, hooks, spurs…
…and snakes!!
But, every day ends with an incredible display of color in the sky!
Our VERY FIRST stop after leaving the airport’s car rental facility was Taco Bell. When Kylee was hospitalized during Christmas of 2013 (shortly after we arrived in Tembagapura), she had dreams of Taco Bell that left her in tears because she wanted a chalupa so badly. She, FINALLY, got her chalupa!
Moving day was July 6th and 7th. Our personal belongings, which were packed in crates and stored at a local storage facility, were delivered and unpacked, making our house feel like a home. It was better than Christmas going through all the boxes because we were unpacking things that we had completely forgotten about.
Another silver-lining to Phoenix’s sweltering summers – swimming!
Our adventure in Indonesia has come to an end. We’ve met some amazing people, had some incredible experiences, traveled across the globe, and filled a lifetime of memories in three years. It’s been hard living the crazy life, but we’re realizing that it’s even harder leaving it.
The girls and I left Tembagapura this morning. Chris, who will join us in Phoenix toward the end of July, is returning to the corporate office where his job will send him back to Tembagapura for quarterly visits. Unfortunately, for the girls and me, it’s the end. We’ll never have another opportunity to ride the chopper up or down the mountain, hear a Wednesday afternoon alarm, eat dinner at the Lupe, or enjoy a mountain thunderstorm. And, there will never be an opportunity for a Sunday afternoon drive through the old neighborhood to see how it’s changed. Not ever has a move felt more permanent!
Ally and Kylee preparing to board the chopper for our final departure from Tembagapura. Even as I write this (sitting by the pool in Bali), it still hasn’t sunk in that we’ve left; it just feels like we’re on vacation.
The girls on Kuta Beach. We’re staying in Bali for a few days before continuing our long journey home.
Every story has an ending, but this isn’t it. Stay tuned for a few more posts as we experience repatriation ….
When Ally and Kylee’s feet climbed the steep, metal steps of the school bus this morning, a dizzying array of emotions surged through their bodies as they prepared for their final day of school in Tembagapura. Feelings of excitement, trepidation, sorrow, gratitude, anger, fear, joy, and relief continued to follow them as they got off the bus and walked into their classrooms. Their emotional day was gradually quelled by the realization that they had the very unique opportunity of attending “the world’s most isolated school,” and by knowing that they will always be part of its history.
Ally and Kylee getting on the monster school bus for the last time. It’s hard to believe that in two short months, Ally will be starting high school and Kylee will be finishing her last year of elementary school.
Before moving to Tembagapura, Chris worked in Freeport’s corporate office as part of the global health & safety team. His responsibilities included quarterly visits to PT Freeport Indonesia (PTFI, Freeport’s affiliate in Indonesia). Each visit would end with a new collection of pictures and stories, which he would eagerly share with us upon his return home. We saw many remarkable photos, never imagining that, one day, we would see those fantastical places for ourselves.
One of PTFI’s biggest and brightest gems is the Grasberg open pit mine. It’s regarded as the world’s largest gold mine and third largest copper mine. Sitting in a valley below two of planet earth’s few equatorial glaciers, and 4,300 meters above sea level, it’s a mining marvel in the clouds!
Leaving Tembagapura without a tour of Grasberg would have been an injustice on many different levels. So, at the eleventh-hour, Chris arranged a tour of the mine for the girls and me. Heavily clad in steel-toed boots, safety vests, hard hats, and safety glasses, we traveled by truck and tram to see it with our own eyes.
There are two means of transportation up to the mine: the HEAT Road and the tram. We chose to take the tram.
The four of us rockin’ it on the tram in our PPE (personal protective equipment).
This picture was taken during our ascent up the mountain. The process below is the Concentrator, which pulverizes the ore from the mines into mud, and separates the copper, gold, and silver-bearing minerals from the rest of the rock.
Climbing above the clouds, the Concentrator quickly disappeared in the distance.
At the top of the tram there are many buildings, machines, and vehicles that you would expect to see in a mine. There’s also something that you would never expect to see. Can you spot it? The tin-colored metal building on the left is a church (note the crucifix on the front and the roof). There are numerous churches and mosques for worshippers peppered all around jobsite – including townsite, the open pit mine, and even a few located several miles below the surface in PTFI’s extensive underground mines.
A view of Grasberg “Grass Mountain” from the rim. In 1936, Dutch mountaineers discovered an impressive copper deposit as they tried to reach the nearby Carstenz Pyramid, one of the world’s “Seven Summits”. The discovery led to Freeport’s first Indonesian mine, Ertsberg, “Ore Mountain.” The upper rim is visible in the valley to the left behind Grasberg.
The yellow arrows to the left of the mine point to some of the last equatorial glaciers in the world.
Chris, the girls, and me standing on the stairs of a 797; Caterpillar’s largest, highest capacity haul truck. The value of a haul truck this size is approximately US$5,000,000.
Chris, the girls, and me standing in the dipper bucket of a massive shovel (the same shovel pictured above).
During one of Chris’s visits, he and several of his coworkers had their picture taken at this very spot. The sign on the top left became the inspiration for the title of this blog.
Phoenix, Arizona, USA 12381Km – 7693 Miles
Chris beginning his drone flight over the pit. Even thought the drone can fly up and out as far as 1 kilometer, it didn’t even make it 1/3 of the way out. That tells you just how large the pit is!
A stunning view of a road through the original Ertsberg open pit mine, between Grasberg and the surface subsidence zone from some of the underground mines. The top of the tram is located in the buildings in the center of the photo.
The subsidence zone from the layered block cave mines in the Ertsberg East Skarn System (EESS) orebody, mined since the early 1980s. PTFI’s newest underground mine, DMLZ, is about to begin operations almost 2 kilometers below this point.
Another view of the EESS subsidence zone. The spire on the right was the end of the original ridgeline.
A view of the pit from the subsidence zone overlook.
Standing on the deck near the EESS subsidence zone. We didn’t see any rock fall while we were standing there, but we were lucky enough to hear rock rolling down the slope while walking back to the truck. Triggered by active mining in the DOZ mine 1500 meters/1 mile below ground, it lasted for 30-45 seconds. It was one of the coolest things that we have ever heard!
Waiting for the tram to pick us up. The clouds were moving in very quickly by this point.
Within five minutes, the tram was up and we were completely surrounded by cloud.
Kylee looking into a wall of clouds with the tram’s wires disappearing into nothingness.
After a memorable morning of experiencing Grasberg, we were famished! We returned to Chris’s office where he was able to dig up a few Diet Cokes and a couple of makan boxes.
In this unique mining town, community events with live auctions pave the way for acquiring items that are inherently complicated to get. Sometimes those items include unique pieces of artwork, electronic devices, or a giant tub of Red Vines. Whatever they may be, they always produce spirited and playful moments of competition and rivalry among friends and colleagues.
Chris recently attended a school fundraiser where a drone was auctioned off. I wasn’t there to see or hear the excitement unfold, and Chris’s story is a little vague, but he locked the winning bid and arrived home with the flying contraption. And a big, dimple-studded boyish grin.
Since his bidding blunder victory, Chris continues to release his high-tech toy into the skies above jobsite as often as he can. The drone has gone to unreachable places and spaces to capture some of the most stunning views around us. Views that we have never been able to see and appreciate until now.
The following video is of a flyover of Hidden Valley (our neighborhood) that Chris took earlier tonight. The video includes distant shots of Tembagapura, Rainbow Ridge, the helipad, the road that leads to the mine, the road between Tembagapura and Hidden Valley, and the road that leads to Timika. As you will see from the video, we really do live at the far edge of civilization!
To view some of Chris’s other drone videos, click on this link.
Everything that has a beginning has an ending. Including our family’s adventures in Indonesia. After three years of living the strangest, most extraordinary life imaginable, it’s time for us to pack our bags and return to suburbia.
The bittersweet countdown to this epic adventure begins next week when Chris’s replacement arrives to jobsite. A strategically planned two-month transitional period will allow the girls to complete the school year, and give Chris ample time to hand-off his projects and responsibilities. It, also, gives us more time to soak-up and enjoy the things that we love most about this experience.
By mid-July, we will be back in Phoenix, with our knees under our dining room table, establishing a new beginning. Albeit, a less adventurous beginning; but, nonetheless, a new beginning.
Our vacations are most meaningful when they take us by surprise for a richer, more profound experience. This vacation transcended that expectation. With its formidable energy, the spirit of Africa engulfed us. It was impossible not to recognize a deeper sense of being and a genuine connectedness to nature while traveling through the strikingly vast and arid lands of Namibia.
Namibia lies in the southwest corner of Africa. It shares borders with the Atlantic Ocean, Zambia, Angola, Botswana, and South Africa. Namibia is the world’s thirty-fourth largest country, and one of the least densely populated countries in the world. It is an unparalleled world of deserts and dreams.
Our adventure through Namibia started in the country’s capital, Windhoek. Our late evening arrival provided us with just enough time to lighten our duffle bags and get a good night’s rest before beginning our fly-in/fly-out safari, a specialized tour that uses chartered Cessna airplanes to access remote lodges and bush camps.
By the next morning, we were flying over Namibia’s expansive terrain to reach our first destination, Sossusvlei.
We flew with Wings Over Africa, a family owned and operated business based in Namibia. By this point, Chris and the girls were numb with excitement in anticipation of starting our weeklong adventure.
This was a big change from the 777s that we’re used to. In a much more confined space, we all had an opportunity to take turns sitting in the co-pilot seat. The girls and I decided that Chris would go first.
Namibia from the sky. The strikingly forsaken terrain was unbelievably barren, but, at the same time, diverse and artistically pleasing to the discerning eye.
Sossusvlei
Sossusvlei is located in the southern part of the Namib Desert, the oldest desert in the world, and Namibia’s most spectacular attraction. Vast open spaces, endless horizons, and a tranquil sea of burnt-orange sand dunes characterize the naturally preserved environment. It’s a place that almost seems too perfect for this world.
After an hour of flight time, our pilot, Fabien, made a sensational decent toward and onto a rugged landing strip in the middle of the Namib Desert. In absolute awe and disbelief of where we were and how we got there, we were speechless. It was the first of many indescribable moments to come our way.
Chris and the girls standing on the “bush strip” where we landed.
It didn’t take long to hear that Fabien has a reputation for his unique piloting prowess. He is able to engage in maneuvers that many other pilots aren’t capable of, or willing to do, which explained our landing!
In pure Fabein style, he departed with a dip of a wing that quickly turned into a 90 degree turn before disappearing into the morning sky.
Sossusvlei Desert Lodge is discretely tucked away in the NamibRand Nature Reserve, which boasts more than 445,000 acres of pristine wilderness.
A view from our deck. The most amazing thing about this location is its sheer silence. The absolute stillness in the air was shockingly palpable.
A herd of oryx (gemsbok) grazing in the dry grasslands near the lodge. Oryx is an antelope species that is native to Africa. They are unusually attractive creatures with a horse-like body, cow-like face, white socks, and an impressive set of long, lethal horns.
This trusting oryx wandered up to our patio to steal a little late-afternoon shade.
One of our favorite activities in Soussesvlei was going on a sunset quad biking tour in the reserve.
Kylee is a little daredevil on the quads! When the group’s pace got too slow for her, she purposely slowed down and then went all out to catch up.
One of the best things about African safaris is evening sundowners. After an exciting day of game drives, nature hikes, or quad biking, there’s time for refreshing beverages and a light snack while watching the sun hit the horizon. Our tour guide, Vicky, setting up a sundowner on the front of a Range Rover.
With no light pollution, the reserve offers some of the best stargazing on the planet. In a deep, vast pool of utter darkness, an endless display of stars, and the ethereal light of the Milky Way, shine brightly above Namibia’s unforgiving land. (Observing the Milky Way at Namib Nature Reserve. Photo by Matthew Hodgson. http://www.alpha-lyrae.co.uk).
The girls and me cooling off in the lodge’s spring-fed pool.
The dunes of the Namib Desert were created when winds blew sand inland from the coast. The sand is 5 million years old and rich in iron oxide (which creates the red color). The Namib Dunes are some of the highest dunes in the world, standing more than 380 meters above ground.
The best time of the day to visit the dunes is the early morning or the early evening when the colors are strong and the shadows change with the light.
We hiked the rim of “Big Momma.” It’s one of the most popular dunes to hike because it offers spectacular views from the top and it stands above Deadvlei, a clay pan peppered with petrified camel thorn acacia trees.
Our shadows leaving a temporary mark on the sand below. Deadvlei is the white patch in the top left-hand corner of the picture.
One last picture before running down the dunes into the pan.
There’s no way this little girl was going to pass up the opportunity of running and jumping down Big Momma barefoot. Pure joy and contentment!
This is a view of Big Momma from the bottom. If you look closely, you can see a group of people climbing it.
Deadvlei is one of the most photographed sites in Namibia. The petrified camel thorn acacia trees (Chris’s new favorite tree) are approximately 900 years old.
After two blissful days in Sossusvlei, Fabien returned to pick us up to continue our journey through Namibia. On our way to the next destination, Damaraland, we took the scenic route and soared above an abandoned, century old diamond camp and skimmed along the Skeleton Coast before stopping in Swakopmund to refuel, fix a broken brake line, and change pilots.
Our plane’s shadow somewhere along the Skeleton Coast. The bushmen of the Namibien interior referred to this area as “The Land God Made in Anger.”
The shipwreck of Eduard Bohlen, a German cargo ship that ran aground in 1909 due to poor visibility from thick fog. It currently sits a quarter-mile from the shoreline because the sea of sand is slowing winning a constant battle with the ocean.
The Shawnee Shipwreck, a fishing troller that was stranded in 1976.
After the shipwrecks, we flew over Cape Cross, a breeding colony for more than 300,000 Cape fur seals.
Damaraland
A little more off the unbeaten path, Damaraland’s strikingly untamed terrain impresses the most critical bush trackers. In one of the driest, most desolate regions of Africa, it’s rugged mountains and broad plains offer some of the most spectacular views. For wildlife enthusiast, sparse green valleys provide ideal locations for tracking and locating the rare desert-adapted elephant.
A stunning view of the Brandberg Mountains towering over Damaraland’s desert plains and ancient valleys.
Damaraland Camp, in grand isolation, is perfectly nestled in a prehistoric setting.
Our first evening in Damaraland was spent at an African boma. Bomas are heavily fortified and enclosed wooden fences used to protect livestock. Farmers continue to use them, but many game lodges, including Damaraland Camp, are using them to provide unique dining experiences for their guests. Under the moon and stars, and around a central fire and dozens of lighted lanterns, a memorable evening is created with food and entertainment.
The women of Damaraland Camp entertained us with traditional song and dance before dinner (which included asparagus soup in tin mugs and African fat cakes). The women often spoke in their native tongue, khoekhoe; a language that uses clicking sounds to pronounce consonants.
Our first full day in Damaraland was spent spotting elephants in the Huab River Valley.
On our way through the valley, we stumbled across a herd of ostrich.
A young herd of elephants mingling near a waterhole.
This newborn, Valentine, was following her mom to a thicket of trees.
Valentine received her name from the special day that she was born. If you look at her tail, you’ll notice that it’s crimped; a result of falling on and breaking it during birth.
This elephant was cooling himself by using his trunk to spray dirt on his legs. Chris, our tour guide said it perfectly, “An elephant without his trunk is not an elephant.”
Q: Why do elephants cross their legs? A: It’s irrelephant!
The girls with Chris, our phenomenal tour guide in Damaraland!
Ally was our private photographer during the trip. She recently used her own money to purchase a digital SLR. During our travels in Namibia, we met some amazing people; many of whom offered their time and knowledge to give Ally some of their best photography tips. Most of the pictures in this post were taken by Ally.
After a long day of elephant spotting, Kylee enjoyed a private moment on the deck, cradling a cup of hot vanilla tea, while gazing into a desert that never ends.
One of the funniest stories from our time spent in Namibia happened during our first night in Damaraland. Around 2:00am, Chris, the girls, and I all woke up to the indisputable sound of loud, heavy tramping noises behind our tented-chalets (large, heavy canvas tents under thatched roofs). Thoughts and visions of mischievous elephants or hungry rhinos filled our minds. With no artificial light outside the chalets, it was impossible to see what was moving around us. After a restless night of wondering what large creature visited the camp, we rushed to breakfast to find out. It turns out that the wild creatures that widened our eyes and made our hearts beat just a little bit faster were donkeys! Yup, donkeys! Not even a rare desert-adapted donkey. Just your typical cart-pulling, people-carrying, grass-grazing donkey.
Etosha National Park
Our third, and final destination, was one of Africa’s great game parks, Etosha National Park. The park supports 114 species of mammals, over 340 species of birds, and a salt pan that can be seen from space. Some of the best gaming views in the park take place during the heat of the day when predators are inactive and, therefore, many of the animals feel safe to visit waterholes.
In Etosha, we stayed at a Onguma Fort, which is adjacent to the park and situated in a private reserve comprised of more than 8,000 acres of protected land. The fort overlooks a private waterhole that guests can view from the open dining room, a raised deck, and the swimming pool. This photo (and the photo below) were taken while we were eating lunch in the restaurant.
A close-up of zebra and wildebeest drinking from the fort’s private waterhole. It’s not unusual to see giraffe, oryx, hartebeest, black rhinos, and zebra hanging around the waterhole. Sometimes, lions, cheetahs, or leopards will wander in looking for prey.
We were lucky enough to begin our full-day safari In the park with the sighting of a “number 2”, a black rhino. They are typically difficult to find because they like to hide in the bush.
This giraffe didn’t seem to mind the spotted hyaena that joined him for a drink.
Wildebeests crossing the plains in search of food and water.
A large group of impala playing “follow the leader” with a zebra.
This gentle giant was behind a tree when our guide first spotted him. After a few minutes, he came out of hiding gnawing on a twig.
Dik-Diks are the cutest of all the African animals. The dwarf-sized antelopes are only 12-16 inches tall at the shoulder, but it’s their giant, brown eyes and thick, long eyelashes that grab at the heartstrings. Unfortunately, they’re not domesticated!
A few kudo grazing in a pasture of green grass.
This is one of Ally’s favorite pictures – a “Flying Banana.” It’s appropriately named because of its banana-shaped beak.
We saw a lion and her cub on our first sunset drive night in the preserve, but the pictures didn’t turn out very well, so we were happy to get some great shots of a momma cheetah and her two cubs. When we first spotted them, they were quietly sitting under a shade tree.
It wasn’t too long before the cubs got up and started running, jumping, and playing.
The cubs ran up this tree and jumped back down, giving us a little show.
The momma cheetah wasn’t fond of the jackal getting too close to her cubs, so she chased him off. She wasn’t interested in having him for lunch, she just didn’t want him around.
The skies, day or night, in Namibia are extraordinary and breathtaking!
Our last African sunset and sundowner!
Fabien, Martin, and Wings Over Africa
Some of our favorite memories from this trip came from the time we spent with our pilots, Fabien and Martin. Their specialized training in aerobatics and aircraft recovery gave them the ability to make our flights a little more exciting with abrupt dives, ninety-degree angles, and skimming the coastline within yards of the waves. Those moments easily stand on their own to create an extraordinary experience.
Martin, who spent more time with us, elevated the girls’ experience into a “once in a lifetime” experience by letting them fly the plane! Their faces have never shined so brightly or looked so happy than their time in the co-pilot’s seat with the yoke tightly gripped in their hands.
The plane that we flew in during our weeklong adventure in Africa.
Of the two girls, Kylee bravely offered to sit in the co-pilot’s seat first. She flew next to Martin from Damaraland to Etosha National Park. She had the opportunity to flip the switch that lifts the landing gear, and control the yoke for a few minutes.
Ally sat in the co-pilot’s seat during our flight from Etosha National Park back to Windhoek. She had the opportunity to control the yoke for forty to forty-five minutes. Martin taught her how to use the altitude gauge and GPS, so she knew when to turn the yoke to the right or left, and when to pull the yoke up or push it down.
Our family with Martin. We spent a lot of time with him in the air and on the ground, and truly enjoyed his company and affable personality! He was missed from the moment we departed ways at Eros Airport. Even today, out of the blue, one of the girls will say, “I miss Martin!”
Giant, hairy creatures with human-like qualities have been a topic of popular lore and fascination across the globe for centuries. In Canada, it’s the Sasquatch. In the U.S., it’s the Bigfoot. In the Himalayas, it’s the Abominable Snowman. In Australia, it’s the Yowie.
Most scientists are not convinced of its existence. In fact, they attribute sightings of these elusive beasts to elaborate pranks or misidentified animals. The Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization (BFRO) believes differently. It claims to have documented hundreds of credible sightings of Bigfoot throughout the U.S., Canada, Russia, China, Malaysia, and Indonesia.
The Bigfoot phenomenon has been a nebulous subject that I haven’t put a lot of thought into. Until now. Yesterday afternoon, a small group of geologists were following a mountain trail to reach and survey a rock outcropping that stands above a housing complex. When they approached the final stretch of the trail, they observed a large, brown object swiftly moving in front of them. One of the men managed to capture footage of the strange looking creature before it abruptly plowed through and disappeared into the thick undergrowth.
This was a frightening, yet, extraordinarily facsniating experience for the geologists. In their 7-19 years of employment with PTFI, not one of them has ever seen or heard of anything like it. What makes it even more startling is that the Irian Jaya Mountain Range is home to a strikingly low population of wildlife. There is nothing more in the rainforest than a diverse populace of bird species and a small populace of tree kangaroos that are similar in size to domesticated cats.
The geologists believe they encountered an orang pendek, Indonesia’s Little Bigfoot. Their stories, and the highly sought after video, are spreading around jobsite and in the Indonesian media like wildfire. Whatever it was, it’s inexplicably intriguing!
This still was taken from video footage captured on a survey camera. Click here to watch the video.
7693 Miles from Home 