Linda Ronstadt climbed up on the hood of the Land Rover next to our tracker. Now we had two trackers. A black tracker and a white tracker. A male tracker and a female tracker. An anonymous tracker and a famous tracker. Riding the hood of the Land Rover must have been a lot like riding the back of a rhino. As we bounced over rocks and ruts, Linda Ronstadt was in real danger of falling off.

With two trackers to help us spot game, we saw buffalo. We saw mongooses that reminded me of Kipling stories. We saw troops of baboons. We saw more impala and kudus and giraffes. We saw storks. We saw jackals.

We saw a world-famous rock star lose her balance and begin to fall. I had a vision of her under the wheels. The wilde-Rover seemed to have bucked her off. But at the last instant, she somehow saved herself, as stars-at least the kind who survive as long as she has ­usually do.

Without even slowing down, we drove on into the jungle, preceded by our two figureheads, one black and one white
....Aaron Latham...Rolling Stone, August 18, 1983