KAZAKHSTAN: Arcqos Safaris Maral Stag and Mid-Asian Ibex

chonk34

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Location
Idaho
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Hunting reports
Africa
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Asia/M.East
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Hunted
South Africa, Romania, Kazakhstan
Country: Kazakhstan

Dates: 10-18 October 2023

Type of Hunt: Spot and Stalk, Rifle

Method of Hunting: Rifle, 7mm Rem Mag and 7mm PRC

Outfitter: Arcqos Safaris

PH/Interpreter: Assan Abdrasilov

Agent: PWP Travel

Locations Hunted: Kazakhstan

Species Hunted: Maral Stag, Mid-Asian Ibex

Trophy Quality: Excellent

Species Seen, Population and Quality of Game Observed: Spotted a fair number of stag each day hunting for them, several herds of Ibex spotted during that hunt. Plenty of big heads on offer.

Lodging: Individual room in a shared lodge. Meals served in main lodge, sauna available most nights.

Food: Lots of food. So much food. Can’t say enough about how well they fed us. I almost was ashamed to go to some meals because I knew I couldn’t keep up with the courses and would have to leave some things uneaten.

Activities: Hunting, Sauna

Travel Methods: 4x4 to/from airport and lodge, 4x4 to the end of the trail and horseback up the mountains. Hiking on final stalks.


My dad and I planned to go to Kazakhstan or Kyrgyzstan after Ibex at some point, but had not nailed down all the details until a friend of a friend referred my dad to Adam Olivas at Arcqos Safaris here in Idaho. I was not really prepared to go yet, but my dad offered a loan so that we could go together. After the usual making of acquaintances and discussion about the hunt, we signed up for October 2023. PWP Travel handled my tickets for me, as the price was not much higher than booking for myself, and I had their assistance available if things went pear-shaped during my trip, as they did. So I was glad to have a travel agent. I was flying from Idaho, and my dad was flying from his home in Romania. We planned to meet up in Istanbul and fly the rest of the way together. We decided to hire the offered interpreter, as on previous hunting trips to Romania we’d had some mix-ups and trouble communicating with PH’s who we couldn’t communicate with.

My itinerary had me going Boise – Seattle – Istanbul – Almaty. I had no difficulties flying out of Boise on Alaska Airlines with my rifles. In Seattle I had to switch over to Turkish Airlines, and ran into quite a snag. They weren’t going to let me fly with rifles, as they said my ticket hadn’t been purchased with that qualifier on it. I got bumped over to the service desk where trips go to die, and began to argue my case. I got PWP Travel on the phone, and eventually they were able to resolve the issue. The airline employee found the right reservation and saw that I had booked a ticket with the firearms addendum. I came away a few hundred dollars lighter in baggage and firearm surcharges, but I was on my way. I was so flustered by the encounter and afraid of missing my flight that I forgot to empty my pockets completely and got the full frisking from security due to a receipt that showed up on the scanner.

As I recall, there weren’t any issues going through Istanbul. Our interpreter, Assan, and the paperwork guy, Sergei, met us at the airport. I filled out some documents for my rifles and ammunition. The officials spent a fair amount of time inspecting serial numbers and ammunition boxes and paperwork. I hoped that everything was okay. After a while we were cleared, but Assan told me it is customary to buy liquor for the customs officials at the duty-free store. They handed me their money and walked through the duty-free store pointing out what they wanted, and I paid for it at the counter.

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After that we loaded up the truck and headed out for the hunting area. It was about a 5-hour drive, so we stopped to eat at a convenience store/deli. There were a variety of sandwiches on offer and we discussed what types of meat were popular. My dad asked about pork and I reminded him that we were in a Muslim country, so pork was not likely to be on the menu. Eventually we decided to try horse sandwiches, as horse is a popular choice there. It wasn’t particularly to my taste, but it also wasn’t too bad. The drive was relatively uneventful. The terrain and vegetation reminded me of Idaho. We did see some camels by the side of the road, which you don’t get in Idaho, as well as plenty of horses. Eventually the pavement gave way to dirt roads and a track up into the mountains where we would be hunting.

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The hunting location was in a pocket of southeast Kazakhstan that juts out between Kyrgyzstan and China, so we were a few miles from both of those countries. The lodge was nice. Close to the main lodge we had wifi for our phones, and we shared the upper floor of a 2-bedroom cabin. One of the other cabins had a sauna in it that they would prepare if we wanted to use it after the evening hunt. I’m not much of a sauna guy, but I think it did my aches and pains some good when I took advantage of it. The main lodge held the dining room, where we were served massive meals. Breakfast was generally a porridge or oatmeal-type dish followed by meat and eggs. Lunch was generally served on the mountain out of containers, lots of meat, bread, cheese, and hot tea. Dinner was typically a soup course followed by meat and vegetables, plus a whole table full of snacks and sides. I was almost in pain from the amount of food I was packing in. We ate stag, lamb, horse, goat, and beef in various preparations. It was delicious.

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After arrival we went out to check the rifles. Both rifles were pretty well on, hitting the 350-yard, 550-yard, and the 7mm PRC hit on the long-range target at 800 yards. It was a long shot. I planned to hunt with the 7mm Rem Mag and felt comfortable out to 300 yards, with a 500-yard shot possible if I really needed it.

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In the morning we saddled up on the horses to go stag hunting. My dad wasn’t sure if he wanted to take a Maral Stag, but we decided to go and look at them to see what they looked like. I don’t much like horses or heights, but here I was riding a horse in the mountains. I never got used to the feeling of it, and found that I make a terrible horseman. I was able to cling to the saddle and make it up the trail with every nerve I had left, but I was never comfortable in the saddle. We saw a few stags on the first morning, but nothing that was a shooter. I stayed back at camp for the evening hunt, nursing my aches and pains from the horses and my pride from bowing out so early. My dad went out and again, there were only small stags bugling and running around.

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I decided to skip the stag hunting altogether and stayed at camp trying to acclimate to the elevation. I think base camp was at about 8700 feet, and most of our hunting happened well above that. We did ask for an accommodation as those little horses were so bumpy on the road once they caught scent of home. We got a ride in a 4x4 up the road until we hit the hunting area, which cut out about an hour of the most uncomfortable riding each day. In the morning and early afternoon they didn’t see much aside from smaller stags that were still chasing the females. In the evening a 6x6 stag came out at around 350 yards, but at the price my dad didn’t want to shoot him. While he was debating that shot, the senior guide spotted another large stag at 750 yards. 750 yards is a long shot, so my dad debated for a few minutes whether he ought to shoot at the smaller, closer animal or take the longer shot at a bigger stag. He finally decided to try the longer shot. He set up on the tripod, dialed his scope, and let it fly. The stag stepped behind a bush, but the guides thought he was hit. The stag stepped out and my dad took two more shots, misses. Finally the stag laid down. My dad took one final shot and the stag rolled over, dead. It turned out to be a huge stag, likely top ten in the record books for Maral Stag. I figured he’d shot something, as the dogs in camp didn’t start barking to herald their arrival until quite late after dark. I went down to the shed and we had a great time measuring points and going over the story of the hunt. Then it was time for dinner and a sauna.

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Day 3 there was a snowstorm, so we didn’t hunt. We stayed in all day and read books, and made sure to fill up on the great food from the cooking staff. We hoped that on Day 4 the storm would pass and we’d be able to start our Ibex hunt.

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Day 4 was sunny, so the hunt was on. We rode up the mountain for a couple of hours, and got into a nice group of Ibex with some big billies up a cliff with a range of about 600 yards and gaining. Assan was calling out ranges and positions and we tried shooting at the same time, but it was too chaotic and we both missed. The Ibex disappeared over the ridge. I was still having trouble with the altitude and the horses, so I signed off for the day and headed down the hill on foot. Once we got into some easier terrain I was able to mount up on a horse and ride the rest of the way back.

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My dad continued up the mountain with the guides. He had to dismount at points because it was too rocky for an inexperienced horseman to ride those portions. The scouts called back that there were Ibex over the saddle and they needed to get up there quickly. My dad and the guides dismounted and ran up the ridge to get into position. At about 11,500 feet they caught the Ibex moving behind a snowbank, with a little shooting window. The guides told my dad to shoot the 4th billy, and estimated that they would pass through the shooting window at about 170 yards. My dad finally had his breath back from climbing the ridge and let go a perfect shot, dropping a 46” Ibex. Again, I heard the dogs barking in camp that evening and went out to the shed to hear the story and admire the trophy. Now the pressure was really on me to overcome the altitude and the horses and get an Ibex. I was pretty discouraged at that point, and I think the guides were a little down on me, too.

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Day 5 we went up a different valley and ran into some Ibex around 1,000 yards away. They moved and we stalked in, but were still 500-600 yards away when I tried shooting. I was hitting low. My dad borrowed the rifle and found that he was also hitting low. I reckoned that in all the excitement the day before I had returned my scope to zero twice, throwing my sights out of whack. I vowed to get a scope with a zero stop before my next hunt. As I was almost out of rounds at that point, and we decided to end the day and go back to camp with enough daylight to test the other rifle. The good news was that my head was clearer and I was able to ride the full day on horseback. Once back at camp we hauled out the other rifle and I tested as many rounds as I thought I could afford. At 100 yards I was shooting a tiny group, and I could hit the long-range targets just fine, so things were looking up for the next day.

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Day 6 we rode higher than we had ridden before, looking for good Ibex. I saw one of the guides asking the interpreter if this American guy could shoot, or if this was a fool’s errand. The interpreter held up his fingers showing the size of the groups I’d been shooting the night previously and reassured the guide that I was okay. My dad climbed up some rocks with the guides and made it over 12,000 feet. I was content to make it to 11,980 feet. We were in the very top of a bowl with cliffs on the other side, and the scouts called in that the Ibex were working around us on those cliffs. If we leaned out over the cliffs we could probably get a shot off. I leaned out as far as I dared on the snowy rocks, but it wasn’t quite far enough. I took an offhand shot at a nice Ibex at about 30 yards and missed. The PH and I think that I aimed over the rocks, but didn’t account for how far the scope was above the muzzle and bounced it off a protruding rock. This spooked the Ibex and they continued around the outside of the bowl. I was getting pretty down by this point, but the scouts said they might circle back behind us and give us another opportunity. I got set up on the tripod and got busy ranging various rocks and moving around to make sure I had a solid firing position. Finally the Ibex popped out behind a wall of rock all the way down in the bowl, about 550 yards away. My dad called out the range and I adjusted the scope and fired. The Ibex went down instantly, and a big cheer went up from everyone. They really weren’t sure if I was going to come through, so it was a great relief to the group when I finally got mine down. My Ibex was on the smaller side, measuring 38”, but I was very happy after the struggles I’d had to come away with any Ibex at all. It will be a proud addition to my trophy room.

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We packed our bags and the next morning started the 5-hour drive to Almaty. We stayed in a hotel in the city, and in the morning went to the airport to fly out. Our interpreter couldn’t go with us, so I had some trouble getting through the airport with the rifles. I sat in the police station for about an hour while the officials hemmed and hawed over my documents. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to bribe them or explain something to them or what, so I just sat and waited. Sometimes they would ask me questions and I would answer the best I could, but really there wasn’t a lot of communication possible. My dad got hung up in security because he had some expended brass in his checked bag that got picked up on the scanner. He likes to keep the brass from successful hunts, but they confiscated it from him even though they weren’t live rounds. Just something to be aware of. Eventually the officials let me out of the office and escorted me up to the ticket counter with my rifles and bags. In Seattle the customs agent was a gun guy, so he helped me get through the paperwork and escorted me to the part of the airport close to the ticketing counters so I wouldn’t have to drag the gun case too far. I wound up running back and forth a bit to get the rifles checked and get on my flight, but I eventually made it and got on the plane for Boise, where I found all of my bags in relatively short order.

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Awsome pictures and a great story. Altitude sickness is no joke.
 
It was a pleasure to host you and your father on this mountain hunting adventure. Thank you for sharing your story.
 
Day 5 we went up a different valley and ran into some Ibex around 1,000 yards away. They moved and we stalked in, but were still 500-600 yards away when I tried shooting. I was hitting low. My dad borrowed the rifle and found that he was also hitting low. I reckoned that in all the excitement the day before I had returned my scope to zero twice, throwing my sights out of whack. I vowed to get a scope with a zero stop before my next hunt. As I was almost out of rounds at that point, and we decided to end the day and go back to camp with enough daylight to test the other rifle. The good news was that my head was clearer and I was able to ride the full day on horseback. Once back at camp we hauled out the other rifle and I tested as many rounds as I thought I could afford. At 100 yards I was shooting a tiny group, and I could hit the long-range targets just fine, so things were looking up for the next day.

View attachment 596054

Day 6 we rode higher than we had ridden before, looking for good Ibex. I saw one of the guides asking the interpreter if this American guy could shoot, or if this was a fool’s errand. The interpreter held up his fingers showing the size of the groups I’d been shooting the night previously and reassured the guide that I was okay. My dad climbed up some rocks with the guides and made it over 12,000 feet. I was content to make it to 11,980 feet. We were in the very top of a bowl with cliffs on the other side, and the scouts called in that the Ibex were working around us on those cliffs. If we leaned out over the cliffs we could probably get a shot off. I leaned out as far as I dared on the snowy rocks, but it wasn’t quite far enough. I took an offhand shot at a nice Ibex at about 30 yards and missed. The PH and I think that I aimed over the rocks, but didn’t account for how far the scope was above the muzzle and bounced it off a protruding rock. This spooked the Ibex and they continued around the outside of the bowl. I was getting pretty down by this point, but the scouts said they might circle back behind us and give us another opportunity. I got set up on the tripod and got busy ranging various rocks and moving around to make sure I had a solid firing position. Finally the Ibex popped out behind a wall of rock all the way down in the bowl, about 550 yards away. My dad called out the range and I adjusted the scope and fired. The Ibex went down instantly, and a big cheer went up from everyone. They really weren’t sure if I was going to come through, so it was a great relief to the group when I finally got mine down. My Ibex was on the smaller side, measuring 38”, but I was very happy after the struggles I’d had to come away with any Ibex at all. It will be a proud addition to my trophy room.

View attachment 596055

We packed our bags and the next morning started the 5-hour drive to Almaty. We stayed in a hotel in the city, and in the morning went to the airport to fly out. Our interpreter couldn’t go with us, so I had some trouble getting through the airport with the rifles. I sat in the police station for about an hour while the officials hemmed and hawed over my documents. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to bribe them or explain something to them or what, so I just sat and waited. Sometimes they would ask me questions and I would answer the best I could, but really there wasn’t a lot of communication possible. My dad got hung up in security because he had some expended brass in his checked bag that got picked up on the scanner. He likes to keep the brass from successful hunts, but they confiscated it from him even though they weren’t live rounds. Just something to be aware of. Eventually the officials let me out of the office and escorted me up to the ticket counter with my rifles and bags. In Seattle the customs agent was a gun guy, so he helped me get through the paperwork and escorted me to the part of the airport close to the ticketing counters so I wouldn’t have to drag the gun case too far. I wound up running back and forth a bit to get the rifles checked and get on my flight, but I eventually made it and got on the plane for Boise, where I found all of my bags in relatively short order.

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Nice report. Very interesting to hear how this hunt went one on my radar for sure. I got sick in Tajikistan from the Diamox medication we took for high altitude and that was no fun it almost ruined my hunt. Luckily I had already got a ram.



Thanks for sharing enjoyed the read and the photos.
 
I had the same issue with Turkish airlines. They use contract gate agents who appear somewhat incompetent on firearms issues.
 
Congratulations on your ibex and achievement
any tips on overcoming the challenges you faced during the trip ?
 
Congrats and thanks for sharing!
 
Sounds like a very cool hunt
I dont do horses and mountains would rather walk up myself
 
Congratulations on your ibex and achievement
any tips on overcoming the challenges you faced during the trip ?
Honestly a lot of it was just psychological. Part of hunting for me is about pushing my boundaries and exploring my limitations, and climbing mountains on horseback is just right about at the edge of my own individual limits. Being more familiar with horses could have helped, but even my dad who has some experience with horses found it physically challenging.

As far as equipment is concerned, I probably would have gotten a bigger Ibex if I'd been more comfortable with my scope. I think a zero stop on my scope would have saved me a day of hunting to chase a bigger Ibex. Once I switched to the other rifle I was fine on my shooting, but I ran out of hunting days.

My Ibex was not representative of the quality of Ibex in the area. There were plenty of larger-horned animals available. I just missed a couple of opportunities fighting my own psychology and my equipment.
 
Anyway, that was quite an adventure, and both of you shot very nice animals, congrats :D Cheers:
 
I also want to say that the lodge staff and guides were very good. Once early in the hunt my dad mentioned that he would love to have a Coke with dinner, and from the next meal on we each had a bottle of Coke placed by our plates. The groundskeeper set up the sauna and also made sure our lodge's water was warm and heated to a comfortable temperature. All of our needs were attended to.

The guides were excellent. They knew the area and the animals, and they put us on quality game every day we hunted. They were expert horsemen, and could take their horses up paths that I didn't imagine were possible. They spotted game at ranges that were unbelievable to us. Assan, the hunt manager/interpreter, made the entire hunt go smoothly, and was quick with a translation or explanation of what was going on.

I would definitely hunt with that outfit again.
 
Sounds like a very memorable hunt. Thanks for taking the time to write it up. Enjoyed the pictures.
Bruce
 
Thank you for sharing your hunt report. I know altitude is no joke. Congrats on pushing through the mental blocks and finding success on the other side. Sure there are bigger goats out there but you pushed through and got one! I loved reading the end of the story for you. You just can't give up on yourself. I would like to hear more about the operator and hunt costs. I'm researching these hunts. By the way, that maral stag was huge! Kudos to your dad on some excellent trophies.
 

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