When Is the Best Time to Go Gorilla Trekking in Rwanda?

Gorilla trekking is awesome. We can all imagine it. Sigourney Weaver, mist rolling through dense jungle, shafts of sunlight cutting through the canopy, a silverback staring into your soul and delicately braiding your hair.  And then there’s the reality. Mud. Slipping. Stinging Nettles. Dignity left somewhere 200 metres down the hill.  A silverback giving you a mullet against your will. A guide pretending not to notice you’re fighting for your life on a hill.

The timing matters.

The Short Answer (for people who don’t want to read my rambling)

• Best overall: June to September
• Also very good: December to February
• Avoid if you hate mud: March to May and October–November
• Avoid if you hate crowds: June to September

Or, put another way.  

• You want the easiest experience: June–September
• You want fewer people and don’t mind mud: March–May or October–November
• You want to save some money: Shoulder or wet season

There you go.  Blog over.

But since you’re still here, let’s ruin that simplicity.

The Dry Seasons (June–September, December–February)

This is when everyone tells you to go.  And for once, they’re not wrong.

Why it’s “best”

• Trails are drier (still muddy, just less aggressively so)
• Hiking is easier
• Visibility is better
• Less chance of torrential rain ruining your day

The catch

Of course there’s a catch.

• Peak season means more tourists. I’d love to tell you that going off-peak magically lands you in a small, intimate group, but based on recent experience, that’s now fiction. You’re joining a group either way—the only real difference is how damp you are while doing it.  So this may not make much of a difference.
• Permits sell out fast
• Prices for lodges are almost laugh-out-loud funny, as you assume it’s a typo.

The Wet Seasons (March–May, October–November)

This is where things get interesting.  And by interesting, I mean messy.

What actually happens

• Heavy rain
• Slippery, steep trails
• Vegetation goes feral
• You will fall over at least once (statistically speaking….from experience….apparently)

But.

Why you might actually prefer it

• Fewer tourists
• Easier permit availability, ideal for that last minute planning.  And you really can plan extremely last minute, seeing on one day I did a trek there were still over 100 permits available the day before.  As a point of comparison, I wrote this today (20 March 2026) and checked a random date in peak, being 31July 2026, and there are only 4.
• Cheaper

But.

Gorillas don’t care about your weather preferences.

They’re often closer to lower altitudes during wet season, meaning:

• Shorter treks
• Less time suffering
• Faster payoff

So yes, you’ll be wet.  But you might also spend less time climbing a mountain like an unpaid extra in a survival documentary.

Just To Make Your Life More Difficult

The “best time” is also dictated by something far less predictable than the weather: where your gorilla family decides to be that day. I’ve written about whether a private trek is worth it, and this is exactly where it pays off—being able to choose your group, rather than having your entire experience dictated by the gods (which in this case is the Rwanda Development Board).

You could go in peak dry season and:

• Trek for 5 hours
• Sweat through your soul
• Hope to never see a primate or any relation to them whatsoever, especially whoever talked you into coming

Or go in peak rainy season and:

• Walk 15 minutes
• Casually meet a silverback
• Be back in time for lunch and a smug sense of superiority

Naturally, this is the weather we’re talking about, and it doesn’t tend to take guidance from travel agents on how to behave. I was in Rwanda in March for seven nights—supposedly prime time for misery. I went out every day and didn’t see a single drop of rain on any trek.  But it did rain. Oh, it absolutely rained. Every day. For hours. Biblical at times.  Just never when I was hiking.

Conclusion

Gorilla trekking is one of those rare experiences that is worth it in almost any conditions.

You can be soaked, muddy, wanting to murder your guide after the fifth “just 10 more minutes.” And then suddenly you’re sitting metres away from a baby gorilla that you’re certain was put on this planet to fill that empty void in your soul.  Every decision has led to this. Dropping out of college. Selling your mums jewellery that you might have accidentally borrowed on eBay, your soul on OnlyFans, and your child support payments to FanDuel. And none of it matters anymore. You’ve found paradise.