As the sun sinks lower and the intense heat of the day begins to die down, we walk across the sticky mud flats towards the lake. In this remote landscape of northern Tanzania lies the mystical Lake Natron; behind us is Lake Natron Camp where I’m staying, and ahead, Ol Doinyo Lengai, East Africa’s only active volcano, towers in the distance.
Dust devils whirl over the fissured earth, and what little grass there is has turned to straw in the dry weather. The lake, however, is a shimmer of pink, as flamboyant flamingos move through the shallows, stirring up organic matter with their webbed feet and swinging their heads back and forth as they feed. When they tire of feeding, they strut in synchronized formations, like a fine-feathered flash mob—half-regal, half-ridiculous, blissfully unaware of how closely they resemble a marching band that got lost.
As my husband and I sit by the lake, we contemplate Ol Doinyo Lengai hovering on the horizon. When the sun sets this time tomorrow, we’ll be preparing for bed, ready to wake at midnight and head to the volcano for a moonlit hike to its 2,962-meter-high (9,717 feet) summit—a trek frequently billed as the toughest day hike in East Africa.
