The thirty-minute ride takes you around the camp, where you can see other elephants bathing, eating, sleeping, and doing other elephant-like activities. The elephants with riders walk in a single file line on a narrow path winding down the mountain side. My elephant was the last one. From the beginning, I noticed that the elephant in front of us often took the less efficient path around a tree down a particularly tricky, stone-filled patch. Perhaps this other elephant was new to the path, or just merely slow. Whatever the reason, whenever we needed to stop to wait for the elephant in front of us figure out how to navigate a rocky spot, my elephant would flap its ears and trumpet a sigh of impatience. Then my elephant wrangler would pat the elephant on the side of the neck, as if to comfort it. Near the end of our ride, the path widened to a nice, flat terrain, and taking advantage of an opening, my elephant sped up to smoothly pass the slower elephant. As we passed, I felt my elephant breath a sigh, as if to say, Finally!
Elephants are smart
enough to paint, to play games,
and mine had road rage.
enough to paint, to play games,
and mine had road rage.
Next Stop: Butterfly and Orchid Farm
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