How I left my Man Card at Omaha Zoo’s Lied Jungle

Omaha’s Henry Doorly Zoo’s Lied Jungle is an incredible indoor exhibit. The building perfectly portrays a jungle rain forest. So much, in fact, that it took first place in the 2019 USA Today’s Readers Choice Awards for Best Zoo Exhibit. On a recent visit to this exhibit, however, I would have been wise to read the sign posted on the door. Instead, I found myself facing my worst fear: Bats.

The Lied Jungle

We visited the Henry Doorly Zoo in the summer of 2017. This zoo took the top spot on our list of zoos for a variety of reasons. The zoo is the largest in the United States, and boasts many terrific exhibits. The elephants have an extremely long exhibit. The Desert Dome is the largest in the world of its kind. The “Creatures of the Night” exhibit inside the Desert Dome is eerie and scary and magnificent. But the exhibit that I liked most was the Lied Jungle. This building takes you inside a rain forest, seeing animals like macaws, gibbons, pygmy hippos, and tapirs.

Heed the Warning

On our return visit in the Fall of 2019, we saved this building for the end of the day. We had strong memories of this building, and although we were eager to see it, we prioritized the outside exhibits during the warmth of the afternoon. Due to navigation, the Lied Jungle ended up being our last stop. We approached the building at 4:07pm. Before entering, my wife read aloud the sign posted on the front door: “Please be aware of high bat activity after 4pm.”

At this point, I should tell you of my irrational fear of bats. When I was 11, we had a bat sneak its way into our basement of our summer home, which happened to be the location of my bedroom. On multiple occasions a bat would swoop in and fly around the room. Ever since, I’ve been not too fond of them.

So why weren’t my senses heightened after hearing of high bat activity? Well I had it all figured out. On the upper level of the building, there was a cave. When you walked inside the cave, you could look out and see the bats flying around. Maybe an occasional bat would fly into the cave, but I could quickly walk through to the other side. No problem…I thought.

First Encounter

We began walking through the building, and I quickly forgot about the bats as we watched everything else – birds, monkeys, vegetation – it was great. Soon we came to the cave. My wife and daughters walked over toward the bats – and I kept walking straight…Straight into some bats! Three came whizzing past me. I turned toward my wife, and pointed at the two clutching to the wall near her. Then I turned right to head out – as a bat whizzed past me again, bouncing off my shoulder. I looked down to see if my three-year-old daughter had heard/recognized the curse word that had popped out of my mouth. I scooped her up, and found myself eye-to-eye with a gentleman laughing at my situation. He pointed past me saying “Dude he’s right behind you!” At that, I bolted out of the cave.

Safely on the other side, I counted my blessings and took some pictures from afar. My wife and daughters soon joined me, and we finished the top level of the building. Here’s where I messed up.

Wrong Decision

We regrouped in the lobby as we chatted about the exhibit. After a few minutes, I started toward the entrance for the lower level. “Are you sure you want to go in there?” my wife asked. “Yeah, no problem” I said, and off we went.

Shortly after entering I noticed this might not have been the best idea. Turns out the bats didn’t have an imaginary boundary that kept them in the upper half of the building. They also had access to the bottom half. I started quickening my steps a bit as the bats circled above us. As we wound deeper into the lower level, the bats began to swarm and cause a bit of panic on my part. Sticking with the group, I sped up a bit more and we made it through to some shelter. I stopped for a minute to view the pygmy hippo. This was it – my last chance to turn back…and I didn’t.

Nowhere to Turn

Trudging on, I mistook my wife’s giggles to mean a cool exhibit. I soon realized that she had found the feeding area for the bats! Dozens of bats were swirling around the food. They were on the food, flying to the food, flying from the food – they were everywhere. I stood motionless until I heard the cries of my oldest daughter. Music to my ears – I wasn’t the only one afraid! I quickly rushed to her, set down my three-year-old and held hands with both of them. “Let’s get out of here!” my oldest exclaimed!

That’s when I started a series of lies. I’m not sure if you do this, but when I’m scared I lie. The first one I told her was “They’re just like birds!” LIE. These are not birds. They’re rats with wings. They’re vicious, ugly, flying rodents that don’t care about you or anyone else. Then came the next lie “They’re just as scared of us as we are of them.” LIE. Those bats didn’t give a crap that we were there, and they certainly weren’t as terrified as we were. Then for good measure, one more: “Just keep walking and we’ll be fine.” LIE. The best course of action would have been to grab a machete and swing like your life depended on it. We started walking.

There Goes my Man Card

Of course, when this path was made they didn’t want to help the visitor out, they had to mess with you a bit. Instead of a nice straight line, this path weaved back and forth like a maze.

So here I am bobbing and weaving while clutching the wrist of my three-year-old and the hand of my eight-year-old. The bat population is increasing by the second and we’re now surround by over a hundred bats. Finally we get closer to another tunnel. But to my dismay, there was no relief to be found here. Not only were several bats perched on the outside, but a dozen or so came flying toward us from inside the tunnel. You know the scene in “Finding Nemo” when Marlin and Dory were surrounded by jellyfish? Marlin’s head is spinning as he looks for a way out. That’s the best way I can describe my situation at this point. I knew I had to move forward, but that tunnel was not the ideal path. Regardless, we trudged onward.

As we exited the tunnel it became apparent to me that I hadn’t been silent during this walk. While I thought the only sounds I was making were the lies I was telling my daughter, I realized I had been grunting and shrieking the whole way. This became known to me because as we finally looked up and saw the exit in sight, my five-year-old daughter decided to chime in from behind me: “Hey Dad, you want me to take the lead? I’m just walking here!” There it went. That the was the moment that I went from heroic Dad to turning in my man card. As we finally hit the lobby, the last thing I saw before I slumped onto the wooden tree stump benches was my daughter’s smile. She had loved it. I had hated it, and that smile was proof of both.

One More…

As I sat there on the stumps outside the Lied Jungle exhibit, waiting for the color to return to my face and ensure that I didn’t need a new change of pants, my wife finally exited. I only know this because I heard her cackle. She started telling me about the pictures and videos she took…but I honestly didn’t care. I was free. I made it. No more bats. Then…

WOOOOOOSHH!

A bat flew out of the exhibit, past us and up the stairs! It was like in Jurassic Park – the first one. You know the scene where the kids made it into the building, and they’re happy to be away from the dinosaurs, and then a raptor jumps out of the scenery at them?!? Yeah…that bat was my raptor. A tiny, winged, ugly raptor.

Reflection

At the end of the day, I have only myself to blame. I didn’t listen to the warnings that were given to me, or take the easy way out. Sure, I helped my daughters through the experience. And yeah, I faced my fear of bats. To many others, this building might be exactly the reason why you’d like to visit a zoo. This exhibit puts you right in the middle of the action rather than keeping you as an innocent bystander. But for me, that was more than I bargained for. I love zoos, and I specifically love the Henry Doorly Zoo. The place is great. The Lied Jungle is great. But the lower level? Don’t go there after 4pm. Trust this scaredy cat Dad and take heed the warnings…or you might just face your worst nightmare.

Thanks for reading! To read more about the Henry Doorly Zoo, click here.

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