Charged by a Rhino in Chitwan National Park

A rhino in Chitwan National Park (not the one that charged me)

The Prospect of a Rhino Encounter

"Hey! Hey, you! You want to see some rhino?"

I had just gotten off a bus from Kathmandu in a town close to the Indian border, and closer still to Chitwan National Park. I had come here because of a boyhood fantasy to track tigers on foot through the forest. And that was my main goal.

"Hey! Hey, you! Tonight I can take you to see rhino!"

But tigers were not the only large mammals to wander the forests of Chitwan. Elephants, sloth bears, monkeys, and, of course, rhinoceroses shared space with the mighty cat.

I had dropped my backpack in my mud-walled hut and headed out in search of some food when I was called out to by a thin man with a fat smile.

"Hey! Hey, you! Rhino! You know?"

I did want to see a rhino or two, so I asked the man what he was offering. He explained that around sunset, rhinos often came to the very edge of town, hoping to find some food in the farmers' fields. He said if I showed up a half hour before sunset with a torch (flashlight), he would guide me out to take a look.

I asked how much, getting ready for an epic bargaining round. The price he quoted me was less than two dollars. I love to bargain, but at some point, I just start to feel guilty arguing over an amount of money that means very little to me, so I just accepted his price, and we made plans to meet.

We’re Off to See a Rhino!

I had a wonderful lunch, an adequate nap, and showed up at the appointed time to meet my guide with a bounce in my step and a flashlight in my hand.

He took me just outside town, and we walked along the banks of a small river/large creek while the sun dropped, and darkness settled in.

It was all very exciting. We would tiptoe carefully for ten or twenty meters, then the guide would switch on my flashlight, scan the area, switch off the flashlight, and continue tiptoeing.

I asked if tigers ever came this close to the village. He shook his head and said, "No. Tiger only come here if it decides to eat people," then he continued on tiptoeing.

Um . . . what?

But there was no time for me to calmly and rationally inquire as to the likelihood of a man-eater stalking us at that very second. We were about to spot the evening’s target.

RUN!

Up ahead we heard crashing and stamping. Something big was up there. The guide motioned me close, pointed, and said, "Rhino!" He pulled me right beside him, aimed the flashlight, and switched it on.

The beam of light fell on a rhino. It was only about 30 meters from where we were standing. It was eating from a pile of something that may have been garbage.

The rhino did not like us interrupting its evening meal with a spotlight. I know this because the second the light illuminated the beast, it turned towards us . . . and charged.

To understand what went through my mind the split second after I realized that I was being charged by a rhino, you have to know a little about my history.

I had spent a fair amount of time hiking in the U.S. in areas where there are grizzly bears. Every now and then, a grizzly will become upset with a hiker and charge. Under no circumstances should you run from a charging grizzly bear. You can't outrun them, and running just encourages them (it’s like giving a mouse a cookie).

But can you imagine holding your ground against an 800-pound mass of teeth, spit, and anger that has decided to charge you?

I had always tried to mentally prepare myself to stand my ground if I was ever charged. I had pictured charges in my mind. I told myself I had to be prepared not to flee. I told myself I would have to force my feet to give way to my head.

My bladder was on its own if such a situation ever occurred, but my feet would be under control.

So in that one split second, I simply transferred everything I had always thought about grizzly bears to rhinos. I was ready to hold my ground against a charging rhino.

Until the guide snapped the flashlight off, grabbed my arm, and, in a terse voice, yelled, "RUN!!!"

So, I ran.

I ran into the dark (where, for all I knew, a man-eating tiger was waiting for me . . . or a cobra . . . or a pit). I heard what sounded like a train draw close, pass by, and recede into the distance.

The guide came to me and whispered, "He missed us" into my ear.

At least that is what I think he whispered. Mostly all I heard was the blood pounding and the internal screaming coming from the back of (what must pass for) my brain.

I had survived an up-close encounter with a rhino in Royal Chitwan National Park!

We ended up getting charged an additional time, but I was ready for it then. I know the strategy to defeat a rhino charge — run blindly, as fast as you can into the pitch dark and live!

As it turns out, rhinos have terrible eyesight. They see the flashlight and charge. The trick is not to be at that spot anymore when the rhino gets there (at least that is what I have been told. I strongly suggest you do not take this piece of information as gospel truth).

And now, because travel, I have a story I tell so often that my wife throws up in her mouth a little bit each time she hears me starting the tale.