The Smoke That Thunders

Victoria Falls is a heart thumping testament to the power of Mother Nature. Victoria Falls is also known by its indigenous name Mosi-o-Junga, which means “the smoke that thunders”. It’s indigenous name is much more apropos. Mosi-o-Junga is on the border of Zimbabwe and Zambia; each contains half the falls within their borders. Mosi-o-Junga is 5,604 feet wide and 354 feet high, roughly twice the size of Niagara Falls. It claims to be the world’s biggest water falls.

Like many of life’s most beautiful wonders, pictures are unable to portray its power and magnificence. The roar of the tons of plummeting water is nearly deafening. As I get closer to the falls, the thunderous rumble intensifies and the air thickens with mist. As near even further, the greener and denser the woodlands lining the trail become.

The spray from the falls is intense. It can rise as high as 2600 feet into the air. It is mid-march, closely approaching the height of peak flood season. The heaviest recorded flow is nearly twice that of Niagara Falls. The mist is so heavy that its thickness obscures much of the falls. I continue down the trail and mist turns to showers and showers to a torrential downpour. But it isn’t truly rain. It’s over a hundred degrees and sunny on this part of the earth today. The downpour is mist that rose high into the air only to succumb to gravity to fall again as raindrops.

The rain is so heavy I can’t even keep my eyes open. I fruitlessly use my hands to wipe my face and eyes, but the water is coming down in buckets. I am completely drenched from head to toe. There is no reprieve. The further I walk on the trails, as I near the falls, the more intense it becomes. Concrete stairs with borders collect the rain to create its own little step-waterfall. I have to take my flip-flops off while walking down one of the stairwells for fear that the fast-running water may wash them away off my feet! On a short metal bridge, Zambia’s Knife-Edge Bridge, which connects one cliff to another, I find half a dozen young, dark Zambian children playing a slip-and-slide. The puddle of water at the end of the bridge is well over my ankle. The rain continues to gush.

The experience is exhilarating. While much of the falls were obscured by the mist, it was almost as if the falls themselves was reaching out to touch me. To top it off, a rainbow lay at nearly every turn as the viscous mist melts into the hot African sun. Magical!