Inside the Bag: Tracking Lions in Murchison Falls

Title: Inside the Bag: Tracking Lions in Murchison Falls

When the gates opened to a newly accessible concession in Uganda’s Murchison Falls National Park, I answered the call without hesitation. This wasn’t just another assignment—it was an opportunity to step into a part of the park that had long been abandoned and left to the rhythms of wildlife. Remote, pristine, and teeming with the unknown, it offered an unfiltered look at lion territory operating on its own time. Over the course of three days, I tracked and photographed 20 individual lions. Each moment was shaped not just by what I saw, but by what I carried with me.

The Landscape Demands It

The concession opens out into vast, mostly open plains, rolling gently in all directions. Solitary trees stand like sentinels across the grasslands, and scattered rocky kopjes rise subtly from the landscape, offering shade and vantage points. Occasional pockets of dense vegetation and small forest patches dot the area, creating natural hideouts for ambush predators. It’s a deceptively simple-looking terrain, but the openness demands precision—there’s little cover for you or your subject.

The game tracks here didn’t exist until recently. My expert guide, who has been studying the area for nearly two years while helping construct an eco-friendly, off-grid lodge, crafted them himself—slowly, carefully, in rhythm with the wildlife. His intimate understanding of the terrain and its lion populations made all the difference.

Game tracks vanish in high grass, heat wavers on the horizon, and shadows stretch long and sudden. Most lions moved early, just as the light broke gold across the dew-heavy earth.

Lions here are elusive, even in a new zone. You earn your sightings with patience, silence, and instinct. This is not a place for quick setups or guesswork. Your gear must work the first time, every time, without fail. There are no second chances when a lion’s stare meets your lens.

To move quietly, stay nimble, and still capture sharp images at range, I packed lean and deliberate.

The Essentials: My Primary Setup

• Camera Body: Canon EOS R5

• Lens: Canon EF 300mm f/2.8L IS II USM with EF to RF Control Ring Mount Adapter

The EF 300mm f/2.8L IS II USM is my workhorse: lightweight for a super-telephoto prime, tack-sharp wide open, with beautiful fall-off that separates subject from scene with elegance. I paired it with the Canon R5 for its exceptional subject tracking and animal eye AF—a combination that proved decisive through every patch of swaying grass.

I shoot in full Manual mode—no Auto ISO, no exposure compensation. It’s about complete creative control. My base exposure during active light was 1/2000s at f/2.8, ISO 200. In low-light or shade, I adjusted manually, often bringing the ISO to up to 2000 and dropping shutter speed to 1/1000s. Metering was set to spot, allowing precise exposure based on the lion’s face or eye, rather than being fooled by bright grasses or dark shadows.

Focus mode was AI Servo with single point expansion. I used back-button focus with tracking sensitivity tuned to -1, prioritizing subject lock. The electronic shutter allowed me to shoot silently, with zero disruption in quiet scenes.

The Control Ring Adapter was mapped to white balance, giving me tactile on-the-fly adjustment as conditions shifted from golden hour to flat midmorning light. It’s faster than menu diving, and ideal when you need to preserve mood.

Secondary Tools

• Canon Extender EF 1.4x III: For added reach without compromising image quality.

• Canon Control Ring Mount Adapter: Custom set to adjust white balance on the fly.

• Rain cover: Lightweight and packable, ready for unexpected weather.

• Blower and microfiber lens cloth: Constant companions in dusty conditions.

• Fleece sweater: Doubled perfectly as a makeshift beanbag for vehicle support.

This minimal setup allowed me to adapt quickly and keep gear light while maximizing flexibility. The extender paired well with the 300mm, extending my range when lions lingered at a distance, and the control ring gave me tactile, intuitive color control in changing light.

Non-Photo Must-Haves

Nothing. No backup. No signal. No satellite safety net. If you're stuck, you're stuck. If you're lost, you're lost. And that’s part of the fun. Just me, my gear, and the wild—undiluted, unpredictable, and absolutely present.

Ethics and Proximity

I was traveling solo on this trip, with my guide as the only companion. He was phenomenal—reading tracks, interpreting lion calls, and knowing exactly when to stop, wait, and listen. We kept respectful distances, using vehicle angles and patience to let the lions come to us. It was about presence, not pressure. We observed silently, and allowed the story to unfold around us.

There were no dramatic kills or frenzied feeding sessions. Instead, we witnessed the quiet theater of lion life: cubs tumbling in play and testing boundaries, a mother scanning the horizon with unblinking focus, a large male patrolling the edge of his territory with the calm, unquestioned confidence of a ruler. These are the moments that last.

Reflections from the Concession

Seeing 20 individual lions in such a short time, in a space newly opened to photography, felt historic. A glimpse into what true protection and quiet management can offer to wildlife. The concession had a rhythm I hadn’t felt elsewhere: untouched, wild-hearted, and entirely on the lions’ terms.

These weren’t just shots. They were stories waiting to be told with care.

In a future post, I’ll break down one of my favorite lion interactions from the trip—including the split-second moment that gave me my favorite image of the season.

Stay tuned. Stay wild.