Spotted in the Wild

Tracking down a creature as evasive as the cheetah is never guaranteed. Jeff Chu treks to southern Africa to find big cats and fulfill a long-held family promise.

- Jeff Chu

WHEN MY NEPHEW Caleb was five, I promised to take him anywhere he wanted when he turned 13. My childhood travels, particularly a trip to Paris with a generous aunt and uncle, sparked my lifelong wanderlust and curiosity about the world. I hoped to give him that same gift.

"I want to go see cheetahs," Caleb said. And every time I've asked in the years since, he has repeated: "I want to go see cheetahs." He's 15 now. The pandemic postponed our trip, but last summer, we finally made it to southern Africa.

As every safari-goer knows, spotting big game is never a sure thing. But this uncle wasn't taking any chances, especially with a creature as endangered-and elusive as the cheetah. So after landing in Johannesburg, we drove an hour northwest to the Ann van Dyk Cheetah Centre, which has bred more than 600 big cats in the past four decades, helping to repopulate reserves across South Africa.

The centre does a noble bait-and-switch: folks might come for the cheetahs, but they learn about fragile ecosystems and less charismatic species like the caracal, serval-both wild cats and vulture. "Vultures are very misunderstood," explained our head guide, Nicole Wilson, as she showed us three species that live at the centre: Cape Griffin, lappet-faced, and Egyptian. "They clean up, making sure there are no carcasses left on the ground. Their guano is acidic, so it helps stop the spread of disease."

The cheetahs inhabit a rolling, scrub-covered terrain that simulates a natural environment, but visitors rarely lose sight of the fences. The cats we saw will likely never leave the centre, because of medical conditions or genetic traits that make them unfit for the wild. To us, they were amazing nonetheless, living works of art in motion.

"So cool," Caleb said. From a taciturn 15-year-old, that's wild exuberance.