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SOUTH AFRICA: Mountains & Valleys
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buck wild
AH legend
Day 3 Missed Opportunities
Monday July 20, 2015
Due to the reduce sightings of kudu in the afternoon from yesterday, it was decided that we’d only hunt kudu in the morning and return to the main lodge for lunch and new hunting grounds for the afternoon.
It has really warmed up this morning- upper 40s and very windy. The normal temperatures this time of year are lows in the mid 30’s and highs in the mid 60’s, with blue bird skies. During my first two trips I never observed so much as a thin white cloud above. It was like de ja vu all over again each morning during those first trips; however, the range conditions were different this time as the area had been in a drought over the past 6 months with very little spring time rain. The warmer temperatures and dry conditions were working to our advantage as the animals needed to move around more for resources and the leaves had dropped from the bush increasing our visibly.
The downside was that the warmer weather was reducing animal movement and it was very slow this morning. On the first day we had jumped a group of bushpigs. I wasn’t particularly interested in bushpig although it is apparently rare to see one during daylight hours. We were driving toward the remote northern area of the property when a giant bushpig boar bolted from a rocky outcropping. We must have caught him napping in the mid-morning sunlight. I could see it was a monster with visible tusks protruding from his lip line and I was already bailing out to get a shot when John Henry asked, “Are you sure you don’t want a bushpig?” Despite my best efforts, I was unable to get a clear shot before he went over the rim rock. I have always bragged to my deer lease buddies that I only need 3 seconds to ID and shoot a deer. I guess I only had 2.5 seconds today.
We tried a short stalk in the general direction he took out, but after 15 minutes we gave up and returned to the truck.
The morning continued slowly except for the several herds of impala and occasional kudu. We wrapped it up with only four kudu bull sightings for the morning. Just to cap off the misery- flat tire #3. The old Land Cruiser was taking a beating, but better it than me. Leaving the ranch we saw a small group of wildebeest near the front gate. We returned to the main lodge for lunch: lasagna- South African food is generally less spicy then our TexMex, but most places have a Nando’s peri sauce if you feel the need to liven it up some.
After a short break, we began hunting John Henry’s personal ranch- Duikerpan. His place sits right at the base of THE MOUNTAIN that begins the Waterberg mountain range. At one time the mountain had belonged to his family’s holdings, but when the national park was established, it became part of the park. This was probably a good thing because I had no desire to climb this beast.
Another critter on my wish list was bushbuck. I had seen a few on my first two trips but nothing even close to mature. Bushbucks are known to be skittish and generally move late evenings/low light. It was a testament to the quality of this property that we began seeing bushbuck by 4 p.m. The second one we bumped was a solid 12"s and was very tempting considering I had never taken one. John Henry never slowed the Land Cruiser- again he didn’t seem as impressed as I was. Minutes later, we spotted another bushbuck feeding in a draw. His coat was dark as coal with very pronounced white markings. Maybe 13", but I muttered I might shoot this one based solely on his vivid markings. As a taxidermist, hide condition is often as important and often more important to me than antler/horn size. I get some awful strange looks when I decide to take or pass on animals when I say the cape just isn’t right. This ranch has a beautiful creek bottom running its length and bush so thick I wasn’t sure a rabbit could crawl through it. Imagine my surprise when we almost ran into a giraffe and a couple zebra as we rounded a corner in the road, then another, then a whole herd, at least that’s what I think a group of giraffes is called. Lisa REALLY likes to watch the giraffes and the rest of the trip she continued requesting we locate them so that she can take pictures.
Right at dark Lisa spotted another bushbuck feeding on the edge of a clearing. After another long hard look, but we passed again- 13/14"s or so but getting close to the magic mark. We also spotted a decent duiker in the same area. Neither animal seem too concerned with our presence and we drove off with both still feeding undisturbed.
Every night Lisa insists we say grace before eating- I’m OK with that, just not being the one that LEADS it in a group setting! Despite her insistence, Lisa does not lead a prayer herself until Day 8. I was beginning to run out of good stuff to say, so tonight I thought I’d add a little humor to the meal. John Henry had mentioned that we really needed to get some meat as there was a local church festival coming up and he usually provided the biltong (like jerky but no smoke). The biltong was used as part of the fund-raising efforts for the annual church festival. So grace sorta went like this: “Lord, thank you for another glorious day in Africa, for keeping us safe during our journey and maybe you could shine a little luck down on us so that the church won’t have to eat baboon biltong, AMEN”. That seemed to lighten the mood and we went on to enjoy fire grilled steaks, spinach quiche and some type of bread pudding cake and custard. This was our favorite dessert so far and as a good host always does, Trish made mental note of our comments and prepared it again for us on our last night. While grilling the steaks, we sat outside in the lapa area and admired the African sky.
The plan for tomorrow is to head to a new ranch in a different mountainous area. We’ll be going into town, Thabazimbi, picking up another PH.
Monday July 20, 2015
Due to the reduce sightings of kudu in the afternoon from yesterday, it was decided that we’d only hunt kudu in the morning and return to the main lodge for lunch and new hunting grounds for the afternoon.
It has really warmed up this morning- upper 40s and very windy. The normal temperatures this time of year are lows in the mid 30’s and highs in the mid 60’s, with blue bird skies. During my first two trips I never observed so much as a thin white cloud above. It was like de ja vu all over again each morning during those first trips; however, the range conditions were different this time as the area had been in a drought over the past 6 months with very little spring time rain. The warmer temperatures and dry conditions were working to our advantage as the animals needed to move around more for resources and the leaves had dropped from the bush increasing our visibly.
The downside was that the warmer weather was reducing animal movement and it was very slow this morning. On the first day we had jumped a group of bushpigs. I wasn’t particularly interested in bushpig although it is apparently rare to see one during daylight hours. We were driving toward the remote northern area of the property when a giant bushpig boar bolted from a rocky outcropping. We must have caught him napping in the mid-morning sunlight. I could see it was a monster with visible tusks protruding from his lip line and I was already bailing out to get a shot when John Henry asked, “Are you sure you don’t want a bushpig?” Despite my best efforts, I was unable to get a clear shot before he went over the rim rock. I have always bragged to my deer lease buddies that I only need 3 seconds to ID and shoot a deer. I guess I only had 2.5 seconds today.
We tried a short stalk in the general direction he took out, but after 15 minutes we gave up and returned to the truck. The morning continued slowly except for the several herds of impala and occasional kudu. We wrapped it up with only four kudu bull sightings for the morning. Just to cap off the misery- flat tire #3. The old Land Cruiser was taking a beating, but better it than me. Leaving the ranch we saw a small group of wildebeest near the front gate. We returned to the main lodge for lunch: lasagna- South African food is generally less spicy then our TexMex, but most places have a Nando’s peri sauce if you feel the need to liven it up some.
After a short break, we began hunting John Henry’s personal ranch- Duikerpan. His place sits right at the base of THE MOUNTAIN that begins the Waterberg mountain range. At one time the mountain had belonged to his family’s holdings, but when the national park was established, it became part of the park. This was probably a good thing because I had no desire to climb this beast.
Another critter on my wish list was bushbuck. I had seen a few on my first two trips but nothing even close to mature. Bushbucks are known to be skittish and generally move late evenings/low light. It was a testament to the quality of this property that we began seeing bushbuck by 4 p.m. The second one we bumped was a solid 12"s and was very tempting considering I had never taken one. John Henry never slowed the Land Cruiser- again he didn’t seem as impressed as I was. Minutes later, we spotted another bushbuck feeding in a draw. His coat was dark as coal with very pronounced white markings. Maybe 13", but I muttered I might shoot this one based solely on his vivid markings. As a taxidermist, hide condition is often as important and often more important to me than antler/horn size. I get some awful strange looks when I decide to take or pass on animals when I say the cape just isn’t right. This ranch has a beautiful creek bottom running its length and bush so thick I wasn’t sure a rabbit could crawl through it. Imagine my surprise when we almost ran into a giraffe and a couple zebra as we rounded a corner in the road, then another, then a whole herd, at least that’s what I think a group of giraffes is called. Lisa REALLY likes to watch the giraffes and the rest of the trip she continued requesting we locate them so that she can take pictures.
Right at dark Lisa spotted another bushbuck feeding on the edge of a clearing. After another long hard look, but we passed again- 13/14"s or so but getting close to the magic mark. We also spotted a decent duiker in the same area. Neither animal seem too concerned with our presence and we drove off with both still feeding undisturbed.
Every night Lisa insists we say grace before eating- I’m OK with that, just not being the one that LEADS it in a group setting! Despite her insistence, Lisa does not lead a prayer herself until Day 8. I was beginning to run out of good stuff to say, so tonight I thought I’d add a little humor to the meal. John Henry had mentioned that we really needed to get some meat as there was a local church festival coming up and he usually provided the biltong (like jerky but no smoke). The biltong was used as part of the fund-raising efforts for the annual church festival. So grace sorta went like this: “Lord, thank you for another glorious day in Africa, for keeping us safe during our journey and maybe you could shine a little luck down on us so that the church won’t have to eat baboon biltong, AMEN”. That seemed to lighten the mood and we went on to enjoy fire grilled steaks, spinach quiche and some type of bread pudding cake and custard. This was our favorite dessert so far and as a good host always does, Trish made mental note of our comments and prepared it again for us on our last night. While grilling the steaks, we sat outside in the lapa area and admired the African sky.
The plan for tomorrow is to head to a new ranch in a different mountainous area. We’ll be going into town, Thabazimbi, picking up another PH.
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buck wild
AH legend
Day 4: Highs and Lows
Tuesday July 21, 2015
We are up early again this morning. That’s what I like- I’ve come a long way, I want to feel I’m getting the maximum hunting time packed into the day. If you choose a bowhunting trip, it’s very likely you won’t go out until the sun has already come up. Bowhunting usually involves sitting by waterholes which tend to be more productive during mid-day hours. It’s another reason I don’t bowhunt much while in Africa. I can’t bear the thought of sitting in a blind all day staring at the same dirt. It is productive and at times more productive than riding safari style, but it’s just not my cup of tea when we have a whole country to explore. I’m here right now this very minute- I want to see as much as possible!
We met our second PH in town. John Henry also happens to own a gas station/convenience store here, so if you are ever in the area, throw him a little business. It’s a full service place that has attendants pump gas. I haven’t seen a gas pump attendant since my childhood and found it slightly odd. I later asked him why and he explained it’s the law and a means to provide jobs in the area. He has almost 20 employees to operate that one small station. There are two main employers in the area- iron ore mining and the hunting/eco tourist industry. John Henry advised the mine was shutting down and 800 folks would be out of work. Hunting/ tourism is soon going to be the only real game in town once the mine pulls out.
We had about a 20 minute drive to the new ranch. This area had taller mountains than the area we had been hunting kudu. If I remember correctly, it is approximately 16,000 acres. We all jumped into in for the climb up the mountain. It was your typical one dozer wide mountain ranch road. I really wasn’t scared about the prospect of falling off the mountain and everyone laughed when I mentioned there was a fence (40 year old, 2 strand wire with rotted posts) on the downhill side that would prevent us from rolling TOO far. Once we reached the top, it opened up into grassy meadows. I knew we weren’t that high in elevation, but it felt we had passed the “timberline”. The wind up here was gusting 25/35 mph from the north and after an hour or so we had only spotted a small group of females. Some more general knowledge for those considering doing a hunting trip to South Africa, the north wind is their warm air flow. Their cold fronts come from the south. When hearing this on my first trip, one of the other hunters in camp asked which direction the sun would rise. I was hoping for a change in the weather to kick start the animal movement, but more wind wasn’t the change I had wished for upon spotting a shooting star the night before.
There were a ton of tracks in the road, so we knew animals existed here. Apparently the wind had them bedded in the nooks and crannies we couldn’t see from the road. We pulled up on a waterhole at the top of the mountain after a couple of unproductive hours. The ranch PH suggested we sit here for a while as it was the only water in the general area. I had no problem sitting and before we could even get unloaded a group of mountain reedbuck females came in above us. We hurriedly got in the blind and settled in. It was 10 a.m. I didn’t know much about mountain reedbuck, even as an avid hunter and taxidermist I have only come across one reedbuck in my life. I asked John Henry what a shooter would be, to which he replied 7 inches. Within minutes the group of females came down to the water, and three more groups totaling 21 reedbuck females do the same before 11:30 a.m., including a troop of monkeys.
I was quite entertained at the action but John Henry starting getting restless. The second PH and Lisa had driven to another area to “scout the high ground.” John Henry got on the radio and was speaking in Afrikaan in a semi-frantic pace. After he got off, he advised that the other PH said to sit tight another 15 minutes as he was confident in the area. John Henry had eaten his orange we had packed with us as soon as we sat down, but I had saved mine. On our first trip to Africa, Lisa and three other friends had been dropped off at a waterhole one morning just to observe. Everyone gets a lunch packed for them before leaving out in the mornings and Lisa and friends had eaten all their food by 10:30 a.m. What they hadn’t realized was that they’d be sitting there until dark before being picked up. When we arrived that evening, you would have thought they’d been on Naked and Afraid for 21 days. Lesson learned- I still had my orange at 11:30 a.m. and began to eat it when I looked up and saw a lone animal 15 yards behind the water trough. I whispered to John Henry it was a male but looked small. All I had to compare it to was the one I had seen at a buddy’s house and this one looked a lot smaller than that one. Immediately John Henry told me it was a shooter and that I should get ready. Was he kidding, this one didn’t look that big? Nope, he was serious. I quickly got the rifle up and ready. Looking through the scope I could also see 8-10 more animals now approaching through a rocky draw from behind. John Henry confirmed the second group were impala and would likely run off the reedbuck so that I’d better take the shot when available. Done deal and he was down. John Henry laughed as he noted that I had dropped the remainder of my orange on the ground when he said to get ready. We radioed in for our ride and apparently woke up the “scout team”. A lot of good they were doing us.
As soon as we got to the animal, John Henry assured me this was a very big mountain reedbuck. Seems my buddy’s was a common reedbuck and a very big common reedbuck at that, so this was a different subspecies. I apologized to John Henry for not knowing enough about these to be educated but was grateful for his expertise. John Henry confided in me that when he had been on the radio earlier, he told the other PH that lots of animals were coming in, but that the males must have been taking off their horns on top of the hills before coming into the water. We both laughed at that and our good fortune within 10 minutes of almost leaving. Once the ranch PH arrived, he also genuinely seemed excited about the reedbuck. This caused a tape measure to get produced which read 8 1/2"s. John Henry mentioned the world record was around 10"s which helped put things into perspective. I was on top of the mountain, both literally and figuratively. Another tip- I told John Henry that when measuring horns, always use the PH’s tape. It seems to start at 1 instead of zero. As of this writing, if the measurements hold up, the reedbuck might be top 10 in the SCI record book.
It was definitely lunch time and we had a short drive over to another ranch with even bigger mountains. Upon our arrival, we (meaning John Henry) had to work on flat #4, but at least it was fixable with a plug today and didn’t need removal, although the second PH noticed the rocks from the earlier ranch had knocked a chunk of rubber off his back tire. I might have been a little more concerned about that ride down the mountain if I had known the old fence truly might have been the only barrier to keep us from rolling down if we had had a blown out tire. This new camp was nestled along the Crocodile River and I was surprised to see it had water flowing as dry as it has been here. We unpacked our lunch and enjoyed it sitting under some huge trees along the river banks. I’m not sure how to describe lunch, but it was basically a fried yummy croissant roll stuffed with hamburger meat, cheese and tomatoes. It reminded me of the “hamburger surprise” rolls we had in elementary school. Lisa also nodded in approval and we downed a couple before feeling too guilty.
The plan this afternoon was for klipspringer, another of the smaller antelope species. We lounged a little longer in the shade as John Henry advised the klipspringer wouldn’t move until later in the evening. They tend to hang around in very rocky areas. I was hunting the small antelope species as I had collected most of the affordable, bigger species my first two trips. They are challenging given their small size and ability to get to cover and hide quickly. We had another drive up a narrow mountain road with multiple switchbacks. Our driver was having slight issues with the clutch, which lead to some interesting minutes headed up but it didn’t take long before we reached the grassy top meadows. I could tell we were way up this time. We parked across a deep open canyon and soon John Henry found a klipspringer standing on top of a rock pile across the valley. He said we had to get over there quickly, but I questioned his eye sight as there was no way he could have made out horns from this distance. I learned these animals generally stayed together in pairs and if there was one, it was very likely there’d be two. We drove to within 300 yards of the rocky mass and spent the next 45 minutes stalking into position below them. We were never able to get a clean look and finally sent another guide around the backside in an effort to push them forward. Unfortunately it didn’t work as the male and female squirted out a side pocket before giving us a clear view. The other guide, Kobus, confirmed it had been a big male once we all reached the rally point. Seems a swarm of bees had taken a liking to the vehicle in our absence, and we had to speed away to ditch them. I wasn’t sure if they were African killer bees but we didn’t want to stick around and find out.
As darkness was approaching, we made our way higher up another peak. As we were driving, I spotted a klipspringer above us. Unfortunately he saw us at the same time and scampered down the mountainside below us. John Henry and I quickly bailed and went over the ledge. After a brief descent, we spotted the pair going up a small ravine to our right. John Henry sat down in front of me and given the steep downward angle, I was able to rest the rifle across his shoulder. We were on the dark side of the mountain and the grey coats were making it hard to pick them out, but I was eventually able to find him in the scope. He scurried atop a small rock and I let one fly. I was using a 22-250 for these small species. I felt I had missed him and the pair went into a small patch of bush approximately 20 yds by 20 yds. Within a minute, the female went up and over the ridge but we never saw the male leave the area. John Henry thought he’d better go take a look just in case. As he entered the small patch of bush where we’d last seen the klipspringer, there was an audible squeak coming from the same direction. John Henry was able to find a patch of blood about the size of a coffee saucer where he had been standing but it had become too dark to search any further. We figured he had jumped the klipspringer upon entering the area, but no one had seen him depart. We marked the spot and would return in the morning. My stomach dropped about as low as the valley floor. Out of three trips, this was the first animal that hadn’t gone down in sight.
My mood was sour back at camp when Lisa wanted everyone to pose for a picture that evening. I tersely replied, “No pictures tonight!” John Henry did his best to instill confidence in the situation, but as hunters we all know the pit of the stomach feelings that come at these times. Dinner was chicken casserole, veggies and a new dessert recipe Trish had found in the South African Farmers Magazine- a fruit meringue pastry. John Henry didn’t seem to approve and we all laughed after he had a short discussion in Afrikaan about his thoughts on the new recipe with Trish. I replayed the story of how Lisa used the smoke detector as a timer for things cooking in the oven back home as a comparison to what I had to deal with in the kitchen.
Lions serenaded us to sleep again tonight. The moon is starting to show some color on the upswing to a full quarter, but clouds are strangely building overhead.
Tuesday July 21, 2015
We are up early again this morning. That’s what I like- I’ve come a long way, I want to feel I’m getting the maximum hunting time packed into the day. If you choose a bowhunting trip, it’s very likely you won’t go out until the sun has already come up. Bowhunting usually involves sitting by waterholes which tend to be more productive during mid-day hours. It’s another reason I don’t bowhunt much while in Africa. I can’t bear the thought of sitting in a blind all day staring at the same dirt. It is productive and at times more productive than riding safari style, but it’s just not my cup of tea when we have a whole country to explore. I’m here right now this very minute- I want to see as much as possible!
We met our second PH in town. John Henry also happens to own a gas station/convenience store here, so if you are ever in the area, throw him a little business. It’s a full service place that has attendants pump gas. I haven’t seen a gas pump attendant since my childhood and found it slightly odd. I later asked him why and he explained it’s the law and a means to provide jobs in the area. He has almost 20 employees to operate that one small station. There are two main employers in the area- iron ore mining and the hunting/eco tourist industry. John Henry advised the mine was shutting down and 800 folks would be out of work. Hunting/ tourism is soon going to be the only real game in town once the mine pulls out.
We had about a 20 minute drive to the new ranch. This area had taller mountains than the area we had been hunting kudu. If I remember correctly, it is approximately 16,000 acres. We all jumped into in for the climb up the mountain. It was your typical one dozer wide mountain ranch road. I really wasn’t scared about the prospect of falling off the mountain and everyone laughed when I mentioned there was a fence (40 year old, 2 strand wire with rotted posts) on the downhill side that would prevent us from rolling TOO far.
Once we reached the top, it opened up into grassy meadows. I knew we weren’t that high in elevation, but it felt we had passed the “timberline”. The wind up here was gusting 25/35 mph from the north and after an hour or so we had only spotted a small group of females. Some more general knowledge for those considering doing a hunting trip to South Africa, the north wind is their warm air flow. Their cold fronts come from the south. When hearing this on my first trip, one of the other hunters in camp asked which direction the sun would rise. I was hoping for a change in the weather to kick start the animal movement, but more wind wasn’t the change I had wished for upon spotting a shooting star the night before. There were a ton of tracks in the road, so we knew animals existed here. Apparently the wind had them bedded in the nooks and crannies we couldn’t see from the road. We pulled up on a waterhole at the top of the mountain after a couple of unproductive hours. The ranch PH suggested we sit here for a while as it was the only water in the general area. I had no problem sitting and before we could even get unloaded a group of mountain reedbuck females came in above us. We hurriedly got in the blind and settled in. It was 10 a.m. I didn’t know much about mountain reedbuck, even as an avid hunter and taxidermist I have only come across one reedbuck in my life. I asked John Henry what a shooter would be, to which he replied 7 inches. Within minutes the group of females came down to the water, and three more groups totaling 21 reedbuck females do the same before 11:30 a.m., including a troop of monkeys.
I was quite entertained at the action but John Henry starting getting restless. The second PH and Lisa had driven to another area to “scout the high ground.” John Henry got on the radio and was speaking in Afrikaan in a semi-frantic pace. After he got off, he advised that the other PH said to sit tight another 15 minutes as he was confident in the area. John Henry had eaten his orange we had packed with us as soon as we sat down, but I had saved mine. On our first trip to Africa, Lisa and three other friends had been dropped off at a waterhole one morning just to observe. Everyone gets a lunch packed for them before leaving out in the mornings and Lisa and friends had eaten all their food by 10:30 a.m. What they hadn’t realized was that they’d be sitting there until dark before being picked up. When we arrived that evening, you would have thought they’d been on Naked and Afraid for 21 days.
Lesson learned- I still had my orange at 11:30 a.m. and began to eat it when I looked up and saw a lone animal 15 yards behind the water trough. I whispered to John Henry it was a male but looked small. All I had to compare it to was the one I had seen at a buddy’s house and this one looked a lot smaller than that one. Immediately John Henry told me it was a shooter and that I should get ready. Was he kidding, this one didn’t look that big? Nope, he was serious. I quickly got the rifle up and ready. Looking through the scope I could also see 8-10 more animals now approaching through a rocky draw from behind. John Henry confirmed the second group were impala and would likely run off the reedbuck so that I’d better take the shot when available. Done deal and he was down. John Henry laughed as he noted that I had dropped the remainder of my orange on the ground when he said to get ready. We radioed in for our ride and apparently woke up the “scout team”. A lot of good they were doing us. As soon as we got to the animal, John Henry assured me this was a very big mountain reedbuck. Seems my buddy’s was a common reedbuck and a very big common reedbuck at that, so this was a different subspecies. I apologized to John Henry for not knowing enough about these to be educated but was grateful for his expertise. John Henry confided in me that when he had been on the radio earlier, he told the other PH that lots of animals were coming in, but that the males must have been taking off their horns on top of the hills before coming into the water. We both laughed at that and our good fortune within 10 minutes of almost leaving. Once the ranch PH arrived, he also genuinely seemed excited about the reedbuck. This caused a tape measure to get produced which read 8 1/2"s. John Henry mentioned the world record was around 10"s which helped put things into perspective. I was on top of the mountain, both literally and figuratively. Another tip- I told John Henry that when measuring horns, always use the PH’s tape. It seems to start at 1 instead of zero.
As of this writing, if the measurements hold up, the reedbuck might be top 10 in the SCI record book.It was definitely lunch time and we had a short drive over to another ranch with even bigger mountains. Upon our arrival, we (meaning John Henry) had to work on flat #4, but at least it was fixable with a plug today and didn’t need removal, although the second PH noticed the rocks from the earlier ranch had knocked a chunk of rubber off his back tire. I might have been a little more concerned about that ride down the mountain if I had known the old fence truly might have been the only barrier to keep us from rolling down if we had had a blown out tire.
This new camp was nestled along the Crocodile River and I was surprised to see it had water flowing as dry as it has been here. We unpacked our lunch and enjoyed it sitting under some huge trees along the river banks. I’m not sure how to describe lunch, but it was basically a fried yummy croissant roll stuffed with hamburger meat, cheese and tomatoes. It reminded me of the “hamburger surprise” rolls we had in elementary school. Lisa also nodded in approval and we downed a couple before feeling too guilty.The plan this afternoon was for klipspringer, another of the smaller antelope species. We lounged a little longer in the shade as John Henry advised the klipspringer wouldn’t move until later in the evening. They tend to hang around in very rocky areas. I was hunting the small antelope species as I had collected most of the affordable, bigger species my first two trips. They are challenging given their small size and ability to get to cover and hide quickly. We had another drive up a narrow mountain road with multiple switchbacks. Our driver was having slight issues with the clutch, which lead to some interesting minutes headed up but it didn’t take long before we reached the grassy top meadows. I could tell we were way up this time. We parked across a deep open canyon and soon John Henry found a klipspringer standing on top of a rock pile across the valley. He said we had to get over there quickly, but I questioned his eye sight as there was no way he could have made out horns from this distance. I learned these animals generally stayed together in pairs and if there was one, it was very likely there’d be two. We drove to within 300 yards of the rocky mass and spent the next 45 minutes stalking into position below them. We were never able to get a clean look and finally sent another guide around the backside in an effort to push them forward. Unfortunately it didn’t work as the male and female squirted out a side pocket before giving us a clear view. The other guide, Kobus, confirmed it had been a big male once we all reached the rally point. Seems a swarm of bees had taken a liking to the vehicle in our absence, and we had to speed away to ditch them. I wasn’t sure if they were African killer bees but we didn’t want to stick around and find out.
As darkness was approaching, we made our way higher up another peak. As we were driving, I spotted a klipspringer above us. Unfortunately he saw us at the same time and scampered down the mountainside below us. John Henry and I quickly bailed and went over the ledge. After a brief descent, we spotted the pair going up a small ravine to our right. John Henry sat down in front of me and given the steep downward angle, I was able to rest the rifle across his shoulder. We were on the dark side of the mountain and the grey coats were making it hard to pick them out, but I was eventually able to find him in the scope. He scurried atop a small rock and I let one fly. I was using a 22-250 for these small species. I felt I had missed him and the pair went into a small patch of bush approximately 20 yds by 20 yds. Within a minute, the female went up and over the ridge but we never saw the male leave the area. John Henry thought he’d better go take a look just in case. As he entered the small patch of bush where we’d last seen the klipspringer, there was an audible squeak coming from the same direction. John Henry was able to find a patch of blood about the size of a coffee saucer where he had been standing but it had become too dark to search any further. We figured he had jumped the klipspringer upon entering the area, but no one had seen him depart. We marked the spot and would return in the morning. My stomach dropped about as low as the valley floor. Out of three trips, this was the first animal that hadn’t gone down in sight.
My mood was sour back at camp when Lisa wanted everyone to pose for a picture that evening. I tersely replied, “No pictures tonight!” John Henry did his best to instill confidence in the situation, but as hunters we all know the pit of the stomach feelings that come at these times. Dinner was chicken casserole, veggies and a new dessert recipe Trish had found in the South African Farmers Magazine- a fruit meringue pastry. John Henry didn’t seem to approve and we all laughed after he had a short discussion in Afrikaan about his thoughts on the new recipe with Trish. I replayed the story of how Lisa used the smoke detector as a timer for things cooking in the oven back home as a comparison to what I had to deal with in the kitchen.
Lions serenaded us to sleep again tonight. The moon is starting to show some color on the upswing to a full quarter, but clouds are strangely building overhead.
Trophy hunting Bushbuck.... right up my alley.
buck wild
AH legend
Day 5 Dust in the Barrels
Wednesday July 22, 2015
This morning I found our favorite dessert cake from dinner two nights ago in the back of the fridge and warmed it up with custard for breakfast. I’d need the extra energy today as we are returning to look for the klipspringer on the steep mountainside. John Henry assembled a larger search party and we spent several hours looking.
Only a few more drops of blood were located, but no klipspringer. I was very appreciative of John Henry and the others as they had taken the search into a very steep valley while I kept watch from the top. Given the incline of this mountain, I didn’t see the need in them possibly carrying the klipspringer and ME out! It’s hunting as they say, but it doesn’t feel any better. With leopard and hyenas in large numbers in the area and the ability for such a small animal to fall into any given number of large cracks in the rocks, we had to give up.
Here is a photo of a klipspringer taken earlier in the trip, but not the same one.
We journeyed the 40 miles back to the main lodge in virtual silence. Lunch today: ham carbonara, cheesy vegetables and homemade rolls. All the homemade bread is killing me! I’m trying to maintain a decent diet without giving back 10 pounds on this trip. I stay strong and disciplined myself to only one.
Since we had been back to the main lodge for lunch several times, I noticed that a waterhole 100 yards from our cabana porch was attracting quite a bunch of game traffic. I had brought a game cam with me and had set it up a few days ago. I checked the card after lunch. It confirmed there is a very big bushbuck frequently the area along with kudu, impala, eland and waterbuck. Here are a few pics.
John Henry advised we needed to leave shortly after lunch today as we had a longer drive to the next place. It would take us through the mountains (surprise) and past one of the only vulture roosting and nesting sites left in South Africa. This was the main reason for the creation of Marakele National Park. As we passed, you could see the white stains, like graffiti, on the cliff sides from the roost areas. Jim Shockey once noted he felt like he was in a place where the eagles and mountains met. Well I’ve never been to that place, but I can say I’ve been to the area where the vultures and mountains meet.
We continued driving higher and higher and started seeing large pine trees. What, I didn’t know they had pine trees in Africa? Right on cue, we pulled into the farm gate. We met t the son of the ranch owner and the hunting PH for the ranch. He was your typical South African hunting guide, slim build but stout as a bulldog with those skimpy shorts barely covering his South African manhood. Lisa didn’t seem to mind the “scenery”. He reminded us of a PH from our first trip to Africa. He had several Jack Russell terrier dogs that took great pleasure in running circles around us while we talked. We learned that he was getting married for the first time and being a newly engaged bachelor at the age of 44 it was causing a little anxiety. I took the opportunity the rest of the day to warn him of the hazards of marriage. As opposed to the places we had been hunting, this place is covered in gorgeous high mountain ponds. The ponds are filled to the brim with crystal clear water and water reeds line the banks. We were in a giant volcanic crater on top of the mountain that was fed by natural underground springs year round. It looked more like Colorado than Africa. I had requested we hunt blesbuck this trip so Lisa might have a chance at her first African animal. Both the easy demeanor and price tag made this a possibility. This was a working cattle farm that also had blesbuck by the hundreds! Before we even reached the main house, I had seen 20 blesbuck bigger than any I had ever seen before. They also have good red hartebeest here and I’d be trying for one of their big bulls. We crossed the road into a part of the ranch with very grassy pastures. Looks like Montana here I thought to myself, only with warthogs, hartebeest, blesbuck, eland and zebra. It was much cooler here than our previous hunting locations and as windy as it has been the past couple of days- even windier. I wasn’t sure if it was the altitude or time wearing me down, but it appeared the sunlight was dimmer up here also. It was if the sun couldn’t muster enough energy to fully clear the mountain top. It's hunting day 4 ½ and we are exactly halfway through the trip. I was having a great time, but the church festival was facing a paltry biltong donation at this point. As we entered the gate to the hunting area, I mentioned to John Henry that we might need to blow the dust out of the rifle barrels soon.
The plan was to search for hartebeest first as they would be harder to locate in this wind. We were covering ground when Lisa surprisingly exclaimed it was her turn. Huh? The ranch PH had spotted a bedded blesbuck approximately 125 yards to our right in an open field among several head of cattle nearby. He felt it was a shooter, so the plan changed as I worked to get Lisa transitioned into the shooting position. After the obligatory 3-5 minutes of adjusting, squirming, “I can’t find it” conversations that seem to happen at each of these instances, the blesbuck had finally had enough. It got up and begin to walk away. After ensuring he was well past the cattle (I knew how much blesbuck costs but I wasn't sure the cost of an African cow) Lisa was able to get all the stars lined up. It was her first African animal. As we approached, the rancher stated that the last two women hunters on the ranch had killed 17" blesbuck, which is top end for the area. Well make it number three; the ole lady pulled a rabbit out of her hat with a 17" for herself. The blesbuck got their name as the early English settlers in South Africa had named it the blaze buck due to the large white blaze marking on their foreheads, but the local tribes’ pronunciation resulted in blesbuck, so it stuck.
We continued our search as the shadows began to lengthen. I commented to John Henry that when we did find the hartebeest, they’d be in a giant herd hiding out from the wind. Not two minutes later, I spotted a group bedded in a small mopani mott (like our coastal oaks). Due to the wind, we came in virtually undetected and were able to get in good position before they spotted us. When they did, they all rose in unison and as with most herd animals decided all 30 of them could stand in the same 20x20 square feet patch of dirt. This is an effective defense mechanism for herd animals as no one individual stands out. John Henry identified three mature bull shooters in the bunch. I quickly ruled out the one on the right as he was little lopsided (remember those picky taxidermist). Another in front of the pack couldn’t be the dominate male or he wouldn’t be standing on this side of the huddle facing potential danger. No, the biggest was standing in the back almost slouching down behind the others. After several minutes of cat and mouse, I heard the rancher comment that if they broke, they’d all be gone in a mad dash. That was all I needed to hear and when the back bull took a step left between two trees, I squeezed off. There was nothing but dust and hartebeest headed in every direction. I asked John Henry if I had hit him as I quickly chambered around round, but John Henry replied he hadn’t been looking when I shot. The unexpected explosion of the 300 mag wasn’t helping his hearing any either. After the dust settled a bit, there was still one hartebeest standing in the trees. It had to be the bull. The first shot was taking its toll but a second one put him down for good. After the klipspringer incident I wasn’t taking any chances.
These animals are very unique- they have that Harley Davidson chopper handle bar look with some of the silkiest hair. Remember when I mentioned capes can make a difference? He had nice mass and was 21"s. Mission accomplished- no more dust in the barrels. On the way out, our PH mentioned the ranch is frequently visited by leopards that results in the loss of several cattle each year.
We hurried back to the home ranch to get in a bushbuck hunt. They typically move in late evenings anyway. I was confident based on all the previous bushbuck sightings we had so far that we’d be able to locate one soon.
We had only been out 15 minutes when we spotted a bushbuck down in a dry creek bed. Immediately John Henry confirmed it was a shooter. Bushbucks are notoriously dangerous if wounded. They can be ornery and with those short, sharp horns can easily make shish-ka-bobs out of you in a hurry. This is often exacerbated by late evenings/low light when most are encountered. I was feeling the pressure and really concentrated on making a good shot. Our lives literally depended on it. Most African game have a kill zone slightly further forward than our North American animals. This anatomical difference is a result of eons of evolution, due to the large predators in Africa pulling down prey from the rear. This evolution resulted in the vital organs being pushed further forward under the protection of the shoulder blades and has surely saved a few from being dinner for the lions and leopards. Everyone that hunts Africa is explained this over and over when they arrive, yet if you are used to seeing a certain sight picture in the scope, your finger almost automatically squeezes when your brain recognizes what it has been seeing for 30+ years. I almost did it, squeezed behind the shoulder, but I was able to hold off and push the sight picture forward. He went straight down, but our view was blocked by the bank of the creek bed. John Henry looked as if he was walking on egg shells when he approached the area and I didn’t blame him. All was good- he was down where he had been standing last. He was a very nice 15" bushbuck and our 3rd animal today. The biltong donation was looking up. What a difference 24 hours had made- I went from the valley the day before, to the peak again today.
Bushbucks also have striking coloration as I noted back on Day 3. Their chocolate coats are accented by a white mid-neck bowtie, white stripes on their legs and white spots on their rumps. The bushbuck puts me one step closer to the spiral horn slam with only the eland left.
Dinner tonight: lamb curry, broccoli, salad, potatoes and orange tart cake with custard.
I know what you are thinking, lamb again? I’m not sure exactly why, but the lamb in South Africa is far and away better than anything I have eaten in the States. As a matter of fact, I’ve eaten lamb less than a handful of times back home due to my distaste for it. If our lamb was this good, I’d have to add it the grocery list. Due to all the animals taken today in a brief period, I remembered right before getting into bed that I had missed taking a few measurements. I grabbed a flashlight and headed out for the short walk over to the skinning shed. As with most wives, Lisa bid me to be careful as I was leaving. I know it’s the norm and wives tend to worry, but it was only a few hundred yard walk, what was there to be careful about? I can’t say the darkness particularly bothers me. I’ve been running around the woods all my life in the darkness and this was within shouting distance of all the houses in the compound, but my pace quicken as I thought back to all the leopards and lions in the area. We definitely don’t have those back home. On my return, once I was within 50 yards of the cabana, I felt silly to have been unnerved but the nighttime stroll, but I quickly closed the door and locked it behind me anyway.
Tomorrow is kudu time again, while the ladies go into town for spa day.
Wednesday July 22, 2015
This morning I found our favorite dessert cake from dinner two nights ago in the back of the fridge and warmed it up with custard for breakfast. I’d need the extra energy today as we are returning to look for the klipspringer on the steep mountainside. John Henry assembled a larger search party and we spent several hours looking.
Only a few more drops of blood were located, but no klipspringer. I was very appreciative of John Henry and the others as they had taken the search into a very steep valley while I kept watch from the top. Given the incline of this mountain, I didn’t see the need in them possibly carrying the klipspringer and ME out! It’s hunting as they say, but it doesn’t feel any better. With leopard and hyenas in large numbers in the area and the ability for such a small animal to fall into any given number of large cracks in the rocks, we had to give up.
Here is a photo of a klipspringer taken earlier in the trip, but not the same one.
We journeyed the 40 miles back to the main lodge in virtual silence. Lunch today: ham carbonara, cheesy vegetables and homemade rolls. All the homemade bread is killing me! I’m trying to maintain a decent diet without giving back 10 pounds on this trip. I stay strong and disciplined myself to only one.
Since we had been back to the main lodge for lunch several times, I noticed that a waterhole 100 yards from our cabana porch was attracting quite a bunch of game traffic. I had brought a game cam with me and had set it up a few days ago. I checked the card after lunch. It confirmed there is a very big bushbuck frequently the area along with kudu, impala, eland and waterbuck. Here are a few pics.
John Henry advised we needed to leave shortly after lunch today as we had a longer drive to the next place. It would take us through the mountains (surprise) and past one of the only vulture roosting and nesting sites left in South Africa. This was the main reason for the creation of Marakele National Park. As we passed, you could see the white stains, like graffiti, on the cliff sides from the roost areas. Jim Shockey once noted he felt like he was in a place where the eagles and mountains met. Well I’ve never been to that place, but I can say I’ve been to the area where the vultures and mountains meet.
We continued driving higher and higher and started seeing large pine trees. What, I didn’t know they had pine trees in Africa? Right on cue, we pulled into the farm gate. We met t the son of the ranch owner and the hunting PH for the ranch. He was your typical South African hunting guide, slim build but stout as a bulldog with those skimpy shorts barely covering his South African manhood. Lisa didn’t seem to mind the “scenery”.
He reminded us of a PH from our first trip to Africa. He had several Jack Russell terrier dogs that took great pleasure in running circles around us while we talked. We learned that he was getting married for the first time and being a newly engaged bachelor at the age of 44 it was causing a little anxiety. I took the opportunity the rest of the day to warn him of the hazards of marriage. As opposed to the places we had been hunting, this place is covered in gorgeous high mountain ponds. The ponds are filled to the brim with crystal clear water and water reeds line the banks. We were in a giant volcanic crater on top of the mountain that was fed by natural underground springs year round. It looked more like Colorado than Africa. I had requested we hunt blesbuck this trip so Lisa might have a chance at her first African animal. Both the easy demeanor and price tag made this a possibility. This was a working cattle farm that also had blesbuck by the hundreds! Before we even reached the main house, I had seen 20 blesbuck bigger than any I had ever seen before. They also have good red hartebeest here and I’d be trying for one of their big bulls. We crossed the road into a part of the ranch with very grassy pastures. Looks like Montana here I thought to myself, only with warthogs, hartebeest, blesbuck, eland and zebra. It was much cooler here than our previous hunting locations and as windy as it has been the past couple of days- even windier. I wasn’t sure if it was the altitude or time wearing me down, but it appeared the sunlight was dimmer up here also. It was if the sun couldn’t muster enough energy to fully clear the mountain top. It's hunting day 4 ½ and we are exactly halfway through the trip. I was having a great time, but the church festival was facing a paltry biltong donation at this point. As we entered the gate to the hunting area, I mentioned to John Henry that we might need to blow the dust out of the rifle barrels soon.The plan was to search for hartebeest first as they would be harder to locate in this wind. We were covering ground when Lisa surprisingly exclaimed it was her turn. Huh? The ranch PH had spotted a bedded blesbuck approximately 125 yards to our right in an open field among several head of cattle nearby. He felt it was a shooter, so the plan changed as I worked to get Lisa transitioned into the shooting position. After the obligatory 3-5 minutes of adjusting, squirming, “I can’t find it” conversations that seem to happen at each of these instances, the blesbuck had finally had enough. It got up and begin to walk away. After ensuring he was well past the cattle (I knew how much blesbuck costs but I wasn't sure the cost of an African cow
) Lisa was able to get all the stars lined up. It was her first African animal. As we approached, the rancher stated that the last two women hunters on the ranch had killed 17" blesbuck, which is top end for the area. Well make it number three; the ole lady pulled a rabbit out of her hat with a 17" for herself. The blesbuck got their name as the early English settlers in South Africa had named it the blaze buck due to the large white blaze marking on their foreheads, but the local tribes’ pronunciation resulted in blesbuck, so it stuck.We continued our search as the shadows began to lengthen. I commented to John Henry that when we did find the hartebeest, they’d be in a giant herd hiding out from the wind. Not two minutes later, I spotted a group bedded in a small mopani mott (like our coastal oaks). Due to the wind, we came in virtually undetected and were able to get in good position before they spotted us. When they did, they all rose in unison and as with most herd animals decided all 30 of them could stand in the same 20x20 square feet patch of dirt. This is an effective defense mechanism for herd animals as no one individual stands out. John Henry identified three mature bull shooters in the bunch. I quickly ruled out the one on the right as he was little lopsided (remember those picky taxidermist). Another in front of the pack couldn’t be the dominate male or he wouldn’t be standing on this side of the huddle facing potential danger. No, the biggest was standing in the back almost slouching down behind the others. After several minutes of cat and mouse, I heard the rancher comment that if they broke, they’d all be gone in a mad dash. That was all I needed to hear and when the back bull took a step left between two trees, I squeezed off. There was nothing but dust and hartebeest headed in every direction. I asked John Henry if I had hit him as I quickly chambered around round, but John Henry replied he hadn’t been looking when I shot. The unexpected explosion of the 300 mag wasn’t helping his hearing any either.
After the dust settled a bit, there was still one hartebeest standing in the trees. It had to be the bull. The first shot was taking its toll but a second one put him down for good. After the klipspringer incident I wasn’t taking any chances.These animals are very unique- they have that Harley Davidson chopper handle bar look with some of the silkiest hair. Remember when I mentioned capes can make a difference?
He had nice mass and was 21"s. Mission accomplished- no more dust in the barrels. On the way out, our PH mentioned the ranch is frequently visited by leopards that results in the loss of several cattle each year.We hurried back to the home ranch to get in a bushbuck hunt. They typically move in late evenings anyway. I was confident based on all the previous bushbuck sightings we had so far that we’d be able to locate one soon.
We had only been out 15 minutes when we spotted a bushbuck down in a dry creek bed. Immediately John Henry confirmed it was a shooter. Bushbucks are notoriously dangerous if wounded. They can be ornery and with those short, sharp horns can easily make shish-ka-bobs out of you in a hurry. This is often exacerbated by late evenings/low light when most are encountered. I was feeling the pressure and really concentrated on making a good shot. Our lives literally depended on it. Most African game have a kill zone slightly further forward than our North American animals. This anatomical difference is a result of eons of evolution, due to the large predators in Africa pulling down prey from the rear. This evolution resulted in the vital organs being pushed further forward under the protection of the shoulder blades and has surely saved a few from being dinner for the lions and leopards. Everyone that hunts Africa is explained this over and over when they arrive, yet if you are used to seeing a certain sight picture in the scope, your finger almost automatically squeezes when your brain recognizes what it has been seeing for 30+ years. I almost did it, squeezed behind the shoulder, but I was able to hold off and push the sight picture forward. He went straight down, but our view was blocked by the bank of the creek bed. John Henry looked as if he was walking on egg shells when he approached the area and I didn’t blame him. All was good- he was down where he had been standing last. He was a very nice 15" bushbuck and our 3rd animal today. The biltong donation was looking up. What a difference 24 hours had made- I went from the valley the day before, to the peak again today.
Bushbucks also have striking coloration as I noted back on Day 3. Their chocolate coats are accented by a white mid-neck bowtie, white stripes on their legs and white spots on their rumps. The bushbuck puts me one step closer to the spiral horn slam with only the eland left.
Dinner tonight: lamb curry, broccoli, salad, potatoes and orange tart cake with custard.
I know what you are thinking, lamb again? I’m not sure exactly why, but the lamb in South Africa is far and away better than anything I have eaten in the States. As a matter of fact, I’ve eaten lamb less than a handful of times back home due to my distaste for it. If our lamb was this good, I’d have to add it the grocery list. Due to all the animals taken today in a brief period, I remembered right before getting into bed that I had missed taking a few measurements. I grabbed a flashlight and headed out for the short walk over to the skinning shed. As with most wives, Lisa bid me to be careful as I was leaving. I know it’s the norm and wives tend to worry, but it was only a few hundred yard walk, what was there to be careful about? I can’t say the darkness particularly bothers me. I’ve been running around the woods all my life in the darkness and this was within shouting distance of all the houses in the compound, but my pace quicken as I thought back to all the leopards and lions in the area. We definitely don’t have those back home. On my return, once I was within 50 yards of the cabana, I felt silly to have been unnerved but the nighttime stroll, but I quickly closed the door and locked it behind me anyway.
Tomorrow is kudu time again, while the ladies go into town for spa day.
Attachments
buck wild
AH legend
Day 6- Porcupine quill MAGIC
Thursday July 23, 2015
Up before sunrise today and the lions are on point again. It’s time to chase kudu this morning after giving Mamba a rest for a few days. The ladies also have an early morning as their spa appointment is at 8:15 a.m. They will be hanging out in town today so it’s just us guys. Although Lisa is not much of a hunter, she has trained herself since we met to spot game. From a city girl that had never left the pavement before, she has acclimated to the ranch life over the years. Those extra set of eyes are often the difference in spotting more animals and we’d miss that today. There’s something a little different in the air this morning, a slight moisture that is unusual for this part of the world in July. Maybe it’s the weather change I have been wishing for. The wind is still very gusty again this morning but the African sun comes up on schedule and we are there to greet it. We take the first route toward the mountains as day one which results in us starting up the rocky road, through the flat area that burned several months back. Due to the lack of spring rain, the area still appears barren, but there is obviously something attractive here as we encounter a small group of kudu cows and a young bull. They decide to vacate the area upon our arrival but are not startled much. After trotting 300 yards they pull up at the edge of the flat. That’s when we noticed two mature kudu bulls standing in the thicket nearby where they stopped. They’re 300+ yards out but you can tell they are above average. After glassing, the near one is probably high 40s/low 50s. The back one is still partially concealed but one side looks super heavy. After a short but intense scouring it all makes sense, one side is heavy and the right unknown because it is broken off at the base. Dang the luck- he was probably a shooter if both horns had been intact. But it’s a promising sign as we are seeing mature kudu and the sun hasn’t peeked over the mountains yet. We continue our usual pattern- glass along the leopard cliffs where the baboons are sleeping this morning, come around the old farmstead, hit Kudu Valley and on to Pharaoh Valley. We pull up in the usual glassing area in Pharaoh Valley and John Henry spots a big bull grazing about half way up. I’m willing those extra inches to be there but he’s a little narrow and again probably 48/50. This is quite possibly one of the bulls we caught on the valley floor several days earlier. It’s still dark on this side of the mountain so John Henry states we should go elsewhere and come back later.
The day continues on, and we see kudu cows on the north side of the property where days before it had been barren of anything but the big bushpig. The kudu are definitely moving more today. The moon phase is better for game movement at this point in the trip and the weather is acting a little crazy. John Henry spots a klipspringer on a rock, not 30 yards from the road. He immediately exclaims this might be the biggest klipspringer he has ever seen, but the klipspringers are protected from hunting on this ranch. The right horn looks 6+ inches long and as fat and blunt as a cigar. The left side is only an inch or so, obviously it has been broken; although, it is apparent the left side had been just as massive and the remaining stub is a thick as my thumb. It was truly a world class animal and we are thankful to have had the opportunity to see it.
Around mid-morning we decide to go into a tight valley where a natural spring leaks out on the top of the mountain. We spot two kudu bulls only 100 yards up the mountain side. Neither is the one we are after but the kudu sightings are definitely encouraging. I glance at my watch and its11 a.m.
We make our way down a road that doesn’t appear to have been driven in several years. This also might explain our flat tire issue. We park and do a little spot and stalk from here. The valley is getting even narrower and we cross a dry creek where John Henry mentions they leopard hunt when permits are available. He says 2-3 days max and they’ll be a big leopard feeding here. No wonder the leopards stay in here, it’s thick and narrow, a great pinch point for game as they travel to water at the natural spring. I spot a porcupine quill on the ground and ask John Henry if it’s Ok to pick it up. He looked back at me in bewilderment- why yes of course he replies. I explain that on my first trip to Africa my PH told me it was bad luck to pick them up. After passing on picking up several I decided I had enough and picked one up. I promptly missed my next shot opportunity back then. I didn’t want to tempt fate and we both chuckled. John Henry advised he didn’t believe in bad luck and we moved on with the quill tucked in my hat like a feather. Maybe like Carlos Hathcock, the famous sniper, with his white feather, the quill will keep my aim true.
It’s warmed up and our trek down the narrow valley did not result in any game sightings. We begin thinking about lunch, but on a gut instinct John Henry wants to make the loop to the area we had spotted the kudu bull on the side of the mountain earlier in Pharaoh Valley. The sun should be over the ridge top now and it would allow us to spot the kudu horns shining through the bush. We pulled up in the same glassing vantage point as earlier that morning. “There’s one”, John Henry whispered. It was so close to the spot we saw the earlier kudu I questioned if it was the same bull. John Henry didn’t think it was so I began to get a little video. This area is a place where a smaller, round mountain sits between two elongated, larger mountains. This results in two draws and saddles on each side of the smaller mountain. John Henry felt the kudu were using these saddles to access the mountainside and valleys in the evening to feed. As a matter of fact I am keenly aware we are in the same place where the three curl kudu from Day 1 was spotted. It’s one of the reasons I named the area Pharaoh Valley. The bull earlier this morning had been on the edge of the middle, smaller mountain, but the bull presently in our view appeared to have come from the top saddle and was working his way across the face of the ridge on the adjacent mountain.
The bull was 300 +- yards out at this time and feeding along on leaves of some type. He appeared to be moving parallel to the valley floor and was in a good spot for us to see him any direction he moved. After reviewing my notes later, this was the 12th bull sighting of the morning. After 1-2 minutes John Henry exclaimed, “I think this is the one”. WOW- I wasn’t expecting that. He looked like a few of the others we had already passed. But it was day 6 of a 9 day hunt and I was willing to come off my magic mark of 55”s if needed. What I did know was that he was bigger than my kudu from my first trip and that was fine by me. Here are a couple pics taken from the video before I quickly swapped the camera lens for the scope.
The bull was content to graze on the mountainside and was unaware of our presence. Of course he was standing right behind some brush with only his neck and horns clearly visible to us. John Henry suggested we climb the adjacent smaller mountain and get parallel with him as he was in a similar area where we had done just that several days earlier on another bull. I was vividly recalling the napalm incident with my burning lungs and this flatlander’s fall out from the earlier climb. I suggested we stay at ground level. I asked John Henry to get a range before we decided on the mountain climb. He was slightly under 300 yards and I figured 260 +- to account for the incline. I assured John Henry I could make this shot if presented. The kudu had a small opening he was feeding toward as we followed him and I settled into preparing for the opportunity if it presented itself. The sun that has been our ally in revealing the hidden kudu over the past few days was now beating down on me as I squinted in its direction. Sweat was starting to build on my forehead as it trickled down into my eyes. Dang, he moved so fast through the opening, no shot was available. It did give us a chance to further evaluate the bull and it was evident he was very old. He had a pronounced limp on his front left leg and you could see his hip bones highlighted by the bright sun and shadows. What I didn’t know at the time was that John Henry was able to reconfirm his earlier evaluation from the different angle and felt confident the bull was very, very good. In hindsight I’m glad he didn’t tell me that at the time, as it would have only increased my anxiety. As far as I knew this was just a decent bull and one that wouldn’t have me eating my words on passing the two earlier in the trip. The big bull limped forward and I finally had a clean shot. Two deep breathes in and an exhale. The 300 mag worked its magic and the big bull rodeo bucked on impact. I was confident of a good hit, but the bull was still on his feet and took several steps uphill. All I could think was me having to climb higher up that mountain if he continued upward so I sent another insurance round which collapsed him on contact. His uphill angle caused the bull to tumble backwards completing two summersaults before coming to rest on a huge rock 40 yards downhill. John Henry and I had an awkward high five attempt (I guess we should have practiced beforehand). I started nervously pacing back and forth. We knew he was down, but the adrenaline was starting to race through me and I was unable to stand still. I asked John Henry if he wanted to go up and find him while I stayed there to direct him, but he was confident he knew the spot. He laughed as I assumed he thought I was trying to get out of climbing up. We moved forward to a spot directly beneath the bull and headed up. Not long into the climb, John Henry was ahead of me by 40 yards when he exclaimed, “Here he is”. That wasn’t as bad as I thought for I had prepared myself to climb much higher and was relieved to know we had made it to him before I passed out.
The first thing I noticed was the bull’s horn mass and large body frame. Boy he was big !! Second thing I noticed were the two fresh, white horn tips where the bull had crushed both in the fall. John Henry asked if I wanted to measure him. “Nay” I replied, “he looks good to me.” Not once during the trip had I asked horn length before shooting. It goes back to having the right PH/guide and confidence in their ability. Many times as a deer guide, I have witnessed customers get wrapped up in score and I have seen guys literally “pout” about a deer scoring less than the guide had projected. For John Henry’s own curiosity he started measuring on his own. Remember what I said earlier about the guide’s tape measure starting at 1” ? When John Henry got to the end of the horn he exclaimed, “That can’t be right, can it?” RUT RO- he can’t be under 50 can he? The second time I helped hold the tape and John Henry muttered-“Yep, same thing: 58.” I was giddy as a little school girl. We had done it. The bull was 58”s with broken tips and bigger than I could have imagined. John Henry estimated the bull to be 12-13 yrs old and surmised he had to have been over 60 in his prime. It was obvious the bull was old and not in the best physical shape. It’s very unlikely he would have made it another year given the current drought conditions and his declined physical health. His bases were massive coming in just under 12”s.
Patience had persevered and our hard work had been rewarded. That doesn’t always happen in hunting but I was grateful it had this time. I was speechless. John Henry was just as happy and advised I had made his season. I’m sure he says that to all the girls. We tried making a phone call from the mountain back to the States to let my friend, who had referred me on this hunt, know of the good news, but we had forgotten about the 7 hour time difference. Luckily the ring was not heard back in Rockport at 5:30 a.m. and no one was disturbed from their beauty sleep.
John Henry went down and arranged to get a few guys to the ranch to help getting the bull down. It was all coming down he assured but I was a little skeptical of that. I stayed on the mountain and reflected back on how much time and energy it had taken to get here today. My name would now be etched into the ranch lore with the others before me. One day, John Henry would be recounting for other hunters about where and how “Joe’s big bull” had been taken. The old bull had certainly passed along his superior genes for kudu generations to come and his lineage would be roaming the mountain tops ruling Pharaoh’s Valley. I began to cape the bull out myself and will never cuss another African skinner after enduring this skinning session. By the time help arrived, I had the bull caped, but I had lost the bull another 25 yards further downhill than when I started. At one time, I just moved out of the way and figured he was going to roll to the bottom on his own. The more experienced trackers quickly went to work and in short order had the bull cut in half, wrapped in plastic and tarps, and began rolling it down the mountain. I carried the cape and John Henry packed the horns down. When the main packages reached the flatter bottom section where the bigger rocks had accumulated over the centuries, they fashioned a pole and carried it all the way down. The shot had occurred at 11:55 a.m. and we had everything down by 2:30 p.m. Every piece of that bull, including the tripas, came down just as John Henry had predicated.
We had missed lunch and I was hungry now. John Henry had planned another outdoor grilling session for us today but given the late hour we ate the bread/mini pizzas untoasted and they were great. Maybe it was the excitement of the moment or sheer hunger, but it was the BEST cheese/tomato sandwich of my life. As we began to leave the mountain, John Henry mentioned he had seen a 25” impala on the way to the front gate earlier. UURRGG.
By the time we reached home base it was late afternoon. We drove around the home farm and checked trail cams. I also had a honey badger permit and was hoping one might be hanging around the baits.
The ladies returned from town. They had made it a full day also- the spa, picked up John Henry’s kids from school, attended field hockey practice and rehearsal for the school play. Apparently girls play field hockey and the boys cricket in this neck of the woods.
Dinner- kudu stroganoff, salad, pumpkin fritter and a mint dessert. I doubled up on Cane and Coke tonight in celebration!
Thursday July 23, 2015
Up before sunrise today and the lions are on point again. It’s time to chase kudu this morning after giving Mamba a rest for a few days. The ladies also have an early morning as their spa appointment is at 8:15 a.m.
They will be hanging out in town today so it’s just us guys. Although Lisa is not much of a hunter, she has trained herself since we met to spot game. From a city girl that had never left the pavement before, she has acclimated to the ranch life over the years. Those extra set of eyes are often the difference in spotting more animals and we’d miss that today. There’s something a little different in the air this morning, a slight moisture that is unusual for this part of the world in July. Maybe it’s the weather change I have been wishing for. The wind is still very gusty again this morning but the African sun comes up on schedule and we are there to greet it. We take the first route toward the mountains as day one which results in us starting up the rocky road, through the flat area that burned several months back. Due to the lack of spring rain, the area still appears barren, but there is obviously something attractive here as we encounter a small group of kudu cows and a young bull. They decide to vacate the area upon our arrival but are not startled much. After trotting 300 yards they pull up at the edge of the flat. That’s when we noticed two mature kudu bulls standing in the thicket nearby where they stopped. They’re 300+ yards out but you can tell they are above average. After glassing, the near one is probably high 40s/low 50s. The back one is still partially concealed but one side looks super heavy. After a short but intense scouring it all makes sense, one side is heavy and the right unknown because it is broken off at the base. Dang the luck- he was probably a shooter if both horns had been intact. But it’s a promising sign as we are seeing mature kudu and the sun hasn’t peeked over the mountains yet. We continue our usual pattern- glass along the leopard cliffs where the baboons are sleeping this morning, come around the old farmstead, hit Kudu Valley and on to Pharaoh Valley. We pull up in the usual glassing area in Pharaoh Valley and John Henry spots a big bull grazing about half way up. I’m willing those extra inches to be there but he’s a little narrow and again probably 48/50. This is quite possibly one of the bulls we caught on the valley floor several days earlier. It’s still dark on this side of the mountain so John Henry states we should go elsewhere and come back later.The day continues on, and we see kudu cows on the north side of the property where days before it had been barren of anything but the big bushpig. The kudu are definitely moving more today. The moon phase is better for game movement at this point in the trip and the weather is acting a little crazy. John Henry spots a klipspringer on a rock, not 30 yards from the road. He immediately exclaims this might be the biggest klipspringer he has ever seen, but the klipspringers are protected from hunting on this ranch. The right horn looks 6+ inches long and as fat and blunt as a cigar. The left side is only an inch or so, obviously it has been broken; although, it is apparent the left side had been just as massive and the remaining stub is a thick as my thumb. It was truly a world class animal and we are thankful to have had the opportunity to see it.
Around mid-morning we decide to go into a tight valley where a natural spring leaks out on the top of the mountain. We spot two kudu bulls only 100 yards up the mountain side. Neither is the one we are after but the kudu sightings are definitely encouraging. I glance at my watch and its11 a.m.
We make our way down a road that doesn’t appear to have been driven in several years. This also might explain our flat tire issue. We park and do a little spot and stalk from here. The valley is getting even narrower and we cross a dry creek where John Henry mentions they leopard hunt when permits are available. He says 2-3 days max and they’ll be a big leopard feeding here. No wonder the leopards stay in here, it’s thick and narrow, a great pinch point for game as they travel to water at the natural spring. I spot a porcupine quill on the ground and ask John Henry if it’s Ok to pick it up. He looked back at me in bewilderment- why yes of course he replies. I explain that on my first trip to Africa my PH told me it was bad luck to pick them up. After passing on picking up several I decided I had enough and picked one up. I promptly missed my next shot opportunity back then. I didn’t want to tempt fate and we both chuckled.
John Henry advised he didn’t believe in bad luck and we moved on with the quill tucked in my hat like a feather. Maybe like Carlos Hathcock, the famous sniper, with his white feather, the quill will keep my aim true. It’s warmed up and our trek down the narrow valley did not result in any game sightings. We begin thinking about lunch, but on a gut instinct John Henry wants to make the loop to the area we had spotted the kudu bull on the side of the mountain earlier in Pharaoh Valley. The sun should be over the ridge top now and it would allow us to spot the kudu horns shining through the bush. We pulled up in the same glassing vantage point as earlier that morning. “There’s one”, John Henry whispered. It was so close to the spot we saw the earlier kudu I questioned if it was the same bull. John Henry didn’t think it was so I began to get a little video. This area is a place where a smaller, round mountain sits between two elongated, larger mountains. This results in two draws and saddles on each side of the smaller mountain. John Henry felt the kudu were using these saddles to access the mountainside and valleys in the evening to feed. As a matter of fact I am keenly aware we are in the same place where the three curl kudu from Day 1 was spotted. It’s one of the reasons I named the area Pharaoh Valley. The bull earlier this morning had been on the edge of the middle, smaller mountain, but the bull presently in our view appeared to have come from the top saddle and was working his way across the face of the ridge on the adjacent mountain.
The bull was 300 +- yards out at this time and feeding along on leaves of some type. He appeared to be moving parallel to the valley floor and was in a good spot for us to see him any direction he moved. After reviewing my notes later, this was the 12th bull sighting of the morning. After 1-2 minutes John Henry exclaimed, “I think this is the one”. WOW- I wasn’t expecting that. He looked like a few of the others we had already passed. But it was day 6 of a 9 day hunt and I was willing to come off my magic mark of 55”s if needed. What I did know was that he was bigger than my kudu from my first trip and that was fine by me. Here are a couple pics taken from the video before I quickly swapped the camera lens for the scope.
The bull was content to graze on the mountainside and was unaware of our presence. Of course he was standing right behind some brush with only his neck and horns clearly visible to us. John Henry suggested we climb the adjacent smaller mountain and get parallel with him as he was in a similar area where we had done just that several days earlier on another bull. I was vividly recalling the napalm incident with my burning lungs and this flatlander’s fall out from the earlier climb. I suggested we stay at ground level.
I asked John Henry to get a range before we decided on the mountain climb. He was slightly under 300 yards and I figured 260 +- to account for the incline. I assured John Henry I could make this shot if presented. The kudu had a small opening he was feeding toward as we followed him and I settled into preparing for the opportunity if it presented itself. The sun that has been our ally in revealing the hidden kudu over the past few days was now beating down on me as I squinted in its direction. Sweat was starting to build on my forehead as it trickled down into my eyes. Dang, he moved so fast through the opening, no shot was available. It did give us a chance to further evaluate the bull and it was evident he was very old. He had a pronounced limp on his front left leg and you could see his hip bones highlighted by the bright sun and shadows. What I didn’t know at the time was that John Henry was able to reconfirm his earlier evaluation from the different angle and felt confident the bull was very, very good. In hindsight I’m glad he didn’t tell me that at the time, as it would have only increased my anxiety. As far as I knew this was just a decent bull and one that wouldn’t have me eating my words on passing the two earlier in the trip. The big bull limped forward and I finally had a clean shot. Two deep breathes in and an exhale. The 300 mag worked its magic and the big bull rodeo bucked on impact. I was confident of a good hit, but the bull was still on his feet and took several steps uphill. All I could think was me having to climb higher up that mountain if he continued upward so I sent another insurance round which collapsed him on contact. His uphill angle caused the bull to tumble backwards completing two summersaults before coming to rest on a huge rock 40 yards downhill. John Henry and I had an awkward high five attempt (I guess we should have practiced beforehand). I started nervously pacing back and forth. We knew he was down, but the adrenaline was starting to race through me and I was unable to stand still. I asked John Henry if he wanted to go up and find him while I stayed there to direct him, but he was confident he knew the spot. He laughed as I assumed he thought I was trying to get out of climbing up. We moved forward to a spot directly beneath the bull and headed up. Not long into the climb, John Henry was ahead of me by 40 yards when he exclaimed, “Here he is”. That wasn’t as bad as I thought for I had prepared myself to climb much higher and was relieved to know we had made it to him before I passed out.The first thing I noticed was the bull’s horn mass and large body frame. Boy he was big !! Second thing I noticed were the two fresh, white horn tips where the bull had crushed both in the fall. John Henry asked if I wanted to measure him. “Nay” I replied, “he looks good to me.” Not once during the trip had I asked horn length before shooting. It goes back to having the right PH/guide and confidence in their ability. Many times as a deer guide, I have witnessed customers get wrapped up in score and I have seen guys literally “pout” about a deer scoring less than the guide had projected. For John Henry’s own curiosity he started measuring on his own. Remember what I said earlier about the guide’s tape measure starting at 1” ?
When John Henry got to the end of the horn he exclaimed, “That can’t be right, can it?” RUT RO- he can’t be under 50 can he? The second time I helped hold the tape and John Henry muttered-“Yep, same thing: 58.” I was giddy as a little school girl. We had done it. The bull was 58”s with broken tips and bigger than I could have imagined. John Henry estimated the bull to be 12-13 yrs old and surmised he had to have been over 60 in his prime. It was obvious the bull was old and not in the best physical shape. It’s very unlikely he would have made it another year given the current drought conditions and his declined physical health. His bases were massive coming in just under 12”s. Patience had persevered and our hard work had been rewarded. That doesn’t always happen in hunting but I was grateful it had this time. I was speechless. John Henry was just as happy and advised I had made his season. I’m sure he says that to all the girls.
We tried making a phone call from the mountain back to the States to let my friend, who had referred me on this hunt, know of the good news, but we had forgotten about the 7 hour time difference. Luckily the ring was not heard back in Rockport at 5:30 a.m. and no one was disturbed from their beauty sleep. John Henry went down and arranged to get a few guys to the ranch to help getting the bull down. It was all coming down he assured but I was a little skeptical of that. I stayed on the mountain and reflected back on how much time and energy it had taken to get here today. My name would now be etched into the ranch lore with the others before me. One day, John Henry would be recounting for other hunters about where and how “Joe’s big bull” had been taken. The old bull had certainly passed along his superior genes for kudu generations to come and his lineage would be roaming the mountain tops ruling Pharaoh’s Valley. I began to cape the bull out myself and will never cuss another African skinner after enduring this skinning session. By the time help arrived, I had the bull caped, but I had lost the bull another 25 yards further downhill than when I started. At one time, I just moved out of the way and figured he was going to roll to the bottom on his own. The more experienced trackers quickly went to work and in short order had the bull cut in half, wrapped in plastic and tarps, and began rolling it down the mountain. I carried the cape and John Henry packed the horns down. When the main packages reached the flatter bottom section where the bigger rocks had accumulated over the centuries, they fashioned a pole and carried it all the way down. The shot had occurred at 11:55 a.m. and we had everything down by 2:30 p.m. Every piece of that bull, including the tripas, came down just as John Henry had predicated.
We had missed lunch and I was hungry now. John Henry had planned another outdoor grilling session for us today but given the late hour we ate the bread/mini pizzas untoasted and they were great. Maybe it was the excitement of the moment or sheer hunger, but it was the BEST cheese/tomato sandwich of my life. As we began to leave the mountain, John Henry mentioned he had seen a 25” impala on the way to the front gate earlier. UURRGG.
By the time we reached home base it was late afternoon. We drove around the home farm and checked trail cams. I also had a honey badger permit and was hoping one might be hanging around the baits.
The ladies returned from town. They had made it a full day also- the spa, picked up John Henry’s kids from school, attended field hockey practice and rehearsal for the school play. Apparently girls play field hockey and the boys cricket in this neck of the woods.
Dinner- kudu stroganoff, salad, pumpkin fritter and a mint dessert. I doubled up on Cane and Coke tonight in celebration!
buck wild
AH legend
Day 7 Wash out
Friday July 24, 2015
The plan was to sleep in today; however, I awaken by a noise this morning at 4 a.m. but it wasn’t a lion. A cold front had blown in and it had started raining. Rain is pretty rare for this time of the year but it explained the crazy weather the past couple days. We stayed around camp this morning waiting for things to clear up. We had a late breakfast and not a single animal showed at the waterhole. John Henry mentioned at lunch (chibata bread sandwiches) that if the weather continued to stay cold and wet for several days that it might result in an animal die off. Apparently some African animals can withstand cold or wet, but not cold AND wet. He commented that a couple years back during similar conditions that several hundred kudu and nyala in the area had died. The light rain continued until 1 p.m. and not a single animal was seen from the cabana front porch this morning. The evening before, one of the PHs that had joined us earlier had called to check on our hunting progress and learned we had killed a big kudu. ThatPH also had a hunter who was nearing the end of his hunt and still in need of a kudu himself, so after John Henry graciously cleared it with me, which he certainly did not have to do, it was agreed that they could hunt the kudu ranch today. This morning, very near where we had lunch on day one, the hunting party stumbled onto a fresh leopard kill of a kudu cow. Later they too would take a mature kudu bull.
Thankfully the sun finally peeked through late afternoon and we cruised around the home ranch just enjoying the sights and smells of a wet Africa. We saw lots of animals but we couldn’t get a duiker to stay put. Several busted stalks led to treks back to the cruiser wondering about what could have been.
We came in a little early and spotted a very nice kudu bull near the lodge at the waterhole. Later that evening we could hear the thumping siren howls of a spotted hyena.
Dinner: grilled steak, potatoes, salad and cobbler
Friday July 24, 2015
The plan was to sleep in today; however, I awaken by a noise this morning at 4 a.m. but it wasn’t a lion. A cold front had blown in and it had started raining. Rain is pretty rare for this time of the year but it explained the crazy weather the past couple days. We stayed around camp this morning waiting for things to clear up. We had a late breakfast and not a single animal showed at the waterhole. John Henry mentioned at lunch (chibata bread sandwiches) that if the weather continued to stay cold and wet for several days that it might result in an animal die off. Apparently some African animals can withstand cold or wet, but not cold AND wet. He commented that a couple years back during similar conditions that several hundred kudu and nyala in the area had died. The light rain continued until 1 p.m. and not a single animal was seen from the cabana front porch this morning. The evening before, one of the PHs that had joined us earlier had called to check on our hunting progress and learned we had killed a big kudu. ThatPH also had a hunter who was nearing the end of his hunt and still in need of a kudu himself, so after John Henry graciously cleared it with me, which he certainly did not have to do, it was agreed that they could hunt the kudu ranch today. This morning, very near where we had lunch on day one, the hunting party stumbled onto a fresh leopard kill of a kudu cow. Later they too would take a mature kudu bull.
Thankfully the sun finally peeked through late afternoon and we cruised around the home ranch just enjoying the sights and smells of a wet Africa. We saw lots of animals but we couldn’t get a duiker to stay put. Several busted stalks led to treks back to the cruiser wondering about what could have been.
We came in a little early and spotted a very nice kudu bull near the lodge at the waterhole. Later that evening we could hear the thumping siren howls of a spotted hyena.
Dinner: grilled steak, potatoes, salad and cobbler
buck wild
AH legend
Day 8 Time is ticking
Saturday July 25, 2015
Father Time is squeezing down and we are back after duiker this morning. They remind me most of our whitetail although I hear the same from others about impala. They are small with dark grey coats and scamper off like our deer when spooked. We got several glimpses but can only confirm two males. Again a couple stalks end in memories, but no meat. We saw kudu, giraffe and nyala this morning. We go back to the main lodge for a late omelet breakfast. A little more Nando’s peri sauce is in order over the eggs this morning!
We made a special trip over to a legendary local hunter’s house before lunch. He has the biggest kudu that I have ever seen in my life. It supposedly measures 74”s and I didn’t question that. It appeared as if you could pass a soccer ball down through the spirals. ** I have since noticed someone else has a pic of that same kudu mount on this site!!
Another 65+" bull
As we enter his small trophy room it is packed with some of the largest trophy animals I’ve ever seen to include the giant kudu, another 65” kudu, a 50” sable, several giant cape buffalo, huge waterbuck, leopard, lions and an elephant. After taking a picture with the elephant, Lisa sits on the couch next to the owner. He seems quite pleased about the seating arrangements. He asked how the hunting was going and I quickly and proudly tell him about my 58” kudu bull. As with all good natured hunters he questioned why I didn’t hold out for a 60. He then congratulated me and advised how hard it is to come by a 60" kudu.
After saying our goodbyes, we head back to the main camp but not before we spot the stud stable bull in the front pasture. One day! We have a quick lunch of shredded beef pitas at the lodge. It’s the closest thing to a Texas taco I have seen in 10 days. We are back after duiker this afternoon, but things are strangely quite. We check on the ranch next door and see tons of impala, a few good kudu but never even cut a track of the cape buffalo on this place. The animals we do see are very spooky this evening. Maybe the weather is having an adverse effect. I am keenly aware of the debarked trees in the area and know porcupine have been here recently. I continue to search high and low but we never find the culprit responsible. We pulled the game cam pics on our small cat /honey badger set ups and discover that a brown hyena has devoured the baits. You can’t import brown hyenas into the U.S. so there is no sense in us putting anytime into a hunt, although they are highly disliked by the local farmers. It’s looking distinctly like I’ll have another zero on the small cats and honey badger again.
Dinner: chicken and mushrooms, green beans and an orange roll with custard.
Saturday July 25, 2015
Father Time is squeezing down and we are back after duiker this morning. They remind me most of our whitetail although I hear the same from others about impala. They are small with dark grey coats and scamper off like our deer when spooked. We got several glimpses but can only confirm two males. Again a couple stalks end in memories, but no meat. We saw kudu, giraffe and nyala this morning. We go back to the main lodge for a late omelet breakfast. A little more Nando’s peri sauce is in order over the eggs this morning!
We made a special trip over to a legendary local hunter’s house before lunch. He has the biggest kudu that I have ever seen in my life. It supposedly measures 74”s and I didn’t question that. It appeared as if you could pass a soccer ball down through the spirals. ** I have since noticed someone else has a pic of that same kudu mount on this site!!
Another 65+" bull
As we enter his small trophy room it is packed with some of the largest trophy animals I’ve ever seen to include the giant kudu, another 65” kudu, a 50” sable, several giant cape buffalo, huge waterbuck, leopard, lions and an elephant. After taking a picture with the elephant, Lisa sits on the couch next to the owner. He seems quite pleased about the seating arrangements.
He asked how the hunting was going and I quickly and proudly tell him about my 58” kudu bull. As with all good natured hunters he questioned why I didn’t hold out for a 60. He then congratulated me and advised how hard it is to come by a 60" kudu. After saying our goodbyes, we head back to the main camp but not before we spot the stud stable bull in the front pasture. One day! We have a quick lunch of shredded beef pitas at the lodge. It’s the closest thing to a Texas taco I have seen in 10 days. We are back after duiker this afternoon, but things are strangely quite. We check on the ranch next door and see tons of impala, a few good kudu but never even cut a track of the cape buffalo on this place. The animals we do see are very spooky this evening. Maybe the weather is having an adverse effect. I am keenly aware of the debarked trees in the area and know porcupine have been here recently. I continue to search high and low but we never find the culprit responsible. We pulled the game cam pics on our small cat /honey badger set ups and discover that a brown hyena has devoured the baits. You can’t import brown hyenas into the U.S. so there is no sense in us putting anytime into a hunt, although they are highly disliked by the local farmers. It’s looking distinctly like I’ll have another zero on the small cats and honey badger again.
Dinner: chicken and mushrooms, green beans and an orange roll with custard.
buck wild
AH legend
Day 9- The End
Sunday July 26, 2015
It’s our last hunting day and it arrived way too quickly. So many things you want to do, but you can’t seem to ever get them all in. You almost need a month here to do all the small things on your list that get passed over due to the lack of time. Too bad the bills won’t pay themselves at home. Land is reasonably priced here and I have been testing the water with Lisa during the trip about retiring in “this neighborhood”. We can always dream right? We are still looking for duiker but none are sighted this morning. We see our first sables next door and the usual impala. Lisa was able to snap a few sable photos. I mention to John Henry that a sable is something I’d like to try and hunt on my next trip and he quickly begins telling me of a great place in the Kalahari desert that he has access where giant gemsbok, sable , black wildebeest and springbok roam. The conversation definitely starts getting the wheels turning.
For lunch we have Lisa’s favorite African meal- breaded chicken breast sandwich and french fries. HA!
John Henry said we’d make one last push this afternoon. Although we both stated earlier we didn’t believe in luck, John Henry keenly observes I have the porcupine quill back in my hat this afternoon. Anything to sway things our way couldn’t be bad. We decide to go back to the neighbor’s ranch. It’s a wild 8,000 acres and the animals have only been leaving tracks and dust for us the last two trips. On the way over, we spot a duiker that wasn’t heading out of town on the first train for a change. The male appears to be trailing a female and we are able to get into position before he notices our presence. John Henry confirms he’s an old male and we finally catch a break. At the shot, he jumped straight up as if he was bouncing on a pogo stick. He’s a really old, mature animal and his horns have fused together at the base kinda like a cape buffalo, only 2,500 pounds lighter. Last afternoon pick me up at a solid 5”s.
We get him back to the skinning shed and continue on. While driving, John Henry spots a dust cloud ahead and immediately knows it must be wildbeest running in front of us. We eventually catch up to them and it’s a small herd of black wildebeest. This is the first group I have seen in three trips. They are smaller than the blue wildebeest and run wild in circles even without being spooked. They have earned the nickname- clowns of the bushveld. I’m even more convinced I’ll hunt black wildebeest next trip. A little further along I spot a waterbuck standing in a small clearing. It’s apparent we have caught him by surprise and he isn’t comfortable standing in the open for long. Before I can alert John Henry to stop, he has whirled to run leaving a dust cloud behind as we peered into the setting sunset. He was a real monster, likely over 30”s. I can’t be disappointed as there was never a chance to do anything but admire him as he ducked into the bush. We are down to the last few minutes of light and John Henry knows where jackals hang out and after missing one the day before we pull up to a four way intersection that resembles a South Texas sendero crossing. After testing the wind, John Henry starts predator calling while I lay on the ground. The sun is setting as the lions go off what seems like 600 yards to our right. That is quite an unsettling feeling, lying on the ground with a small rifle, the sounds of a wounded prey animal filling the air and LIONS being so close. I look over at John Henry and ask if he hears the lions. “Yes, but they’re not that close”. Yeah right! I know there is a fence between us and them- really a fence? When I snap back to the task at hand, I notice a jackal running right at us down the road at 100 yards. As I look through the scope, another pops out of the brush 50 yards in front of me. I must be living right today as he practically stops where the crosshairs were focused. He’s down and the second turns to run back down the road but it’s too late-I already have her in the sights. Two jackals are down and the first is a huge male. He’ll be making the trip overseas back to the States. I finally get it done on my first African predator just minutes before dark on the last day. The ranch owner was very excited to have two less jackals roaming the place also. Jackals are very similar to our coyotes in that they rarely provide a positive contribution on a game ranch.
We wrap up 9 solid days of hunting. I don’t think I’ve hunted so many consecutive days in my life and not once was I ever bored or ready to pack it in. I could have hunted endlessly in this place.
John Henry made a special dinner tonight. Chicken fried kudu filets cooked over a wood fire in a cast iron skillet. It honestly was the best chicken fried steak I’ve ever had in my life! I promise if our deer tasted the same, I’d use up a lot more MLD tags each year. It’s the first time I break down and go back for seconds. When we get home, I’m happy to find I only gained 3.5 pounds. We leave for Joberg tomorrow for a little shopping before getting on the plane for the long journey back home.
A special thanks to John Henry, his wife Trish and two daughters, Pitra and Ivanna. They were gracious hosts and taking care of us the past two weeks meant sacrificing time with their own family. They are a fine, Christian family and I never felt safer in their care. The other staff that supported us included Joanna, who helped with the food/cleaning and Francis and Johannes the tracker/skinners. Francis is a top rate skinner and after observing him on the first animal, I knew I could entrust my trophies to his care. Johannes also had a smile every time I saw him and he seemed truly interested in helping in whatever way he could.
And maybe something I’m the most proud; all the meat from this hunt was prepared as biltong and donated to a local church as a fundraiser for their festival. John Henry sent me these photos of the product drying the day we arrived back in the States. We really put our money where our mouth was on this hunt and gratefully it will feed countless others.
Day 10- Coming back home
Monday July 27, 2015
We are all packed up this morning and after breakfast we say goodbye to the farm and our new friends. John Henry drives us the three hour trip back to Joberg and we stop in at Cambanos for a little shopping. We make the Joberg airport at 2 p.m. and our flight leaves out at 6:30 p.m. This also gives Lisa more shopping time at the airport mall. The returning flight is slightly longer due to flying into the jetstream and we arrive back in Atlanta at 4:45 a.m. (15.5 hour flight). After a short layover, our plane lands in San Antonio at 9:30 a.m. Texas time. The heat and humidly are the first thing to slap us as we depart the plane. It’s no doubt we have returned to the Texas summer. What a difference from the place halfway around the world we just left. We’ll be back some day, hopefully sooner rather than later.
Sunday July 26, 2015
It’s our last hunting day and it arrived way too quickly. So many things you want to do, but you can’t seem to ever get them all in. You almost need a month here to do all the small things on your list that get passed over due to the lack of time. Too bad the bills won’t pay themselves at home. Land is reasonably priced here and I have been testing the water with Lisa during the trip about retiring in “this neighborhood”. We can always dream right? We are still looking for duiker but none are sighted this morning. We see our first sables next door and the usual impala. Lisa was able to snap a few sable photos. I mention to John Henry that a sable is something I’d like to try and hunt on my next trip and he quickly begins telling me of a great place in the Kalahari desert that he has access where giant gemsbok, sable , black wildebeest and springbok roam. The conversation definitely starts getting the wheels turning.
For lunch we have Lisa’s favorite African meal- breaded chicken breast sandwich and french fries. HA!
John Henry said we’d make one last push this afternoon. Although we both stated earlier we didn’t believe in luck, John Henry keenly observes I have the porcupine quill back in my hat this afternoon.
Anything to sway things our way couldn’t be bad. We decide to go back to the neighbor’s ranch. It’s a wild 8,000 acres and the animals have only been leaving tracks and dust for us the last two trips. On the way over, we spot a duiker that wasn’t heading out of town on the first train for a change. The male appears to be trailing a female and we are able to get into position before he notices our presence. John Henry confirms he’s an old male and we finally catch a break. At the shot, he jumped straight up as if he was bouncing on a pogo stick. He’s a really old, mature animal and his horns have fused together at the base kinda like a cape buffalo, only 2,500 pounds lighter. Last afternoon pick me up at a solid 5”s.We get him back to the skinning shed and continue on. While driving, John Henry spots a dust cloud ahead and immediately knows it must be wildbeest running in front of us. We eventually catch up to them and it’s a small herd of black wildebeest. This is the first group I have seen in three trips. They are smaller than the blue wildebeest and run wild in circles even without being spooked. They have earned the nickname- clowns of the bushveld. I’m even more convinced I’ll hunt black wildebeest next trip. A little further along I spot a waterbuck standing in a small clearing. It’s apparent we have caught him by surprise and he isn’t comfortable standing in the open for long. Before I can alert John Henry to stop, he has whirled to run leaving a dust cloud behind as we peered into the setting sunset. He was a real monster, likely over 30”s. I can’t be disappointed as there was never a chance to do anything but admire him as he ducked into the bush. We are down to the last few minutes of light and John Henry knows where jackals hang out and after missing one the day before we pull up to a four way intersection that resembles a South Texas sendero crossing. After testing the wind, John Henry starts predator calling while I lay on the ground. The sun is setting as the lions go off what seems like 600 yards to our right. That is quite an unsettling feeling, lying on the ground with a small rifle, the sounds of a wounded prey animal filling the air and LIONS being so close. I look over at John Henry and ask if he hears the lions. “Yes, but they’re not that close”. Yeah right! I know there is a fence between us and them- really a fence? When I snap back to the task at hand, I notice a jackal running right at us down the road at 100 yards. As I look through the scope, another pops out of the brush 50 yards in front of me. I must be living right today as he practically stops where the crosshairs were focused. He’s down and the second turns to run back down the road but it’s too late-I already have her in the sights. Two jackals are down and the first is a huge male. He’ll be making the trip overseas back to the States. I finally get it done on my first African predator just minutes before dark on the last day. The ranch owner was very excited to have two less jackals roaming the place also. Jackals are very similar to our coyotes in that they rarely provide a positive contribution on a game ranch.
We wrap up 9 solid days of hunting. I don’t think I’ve hunted so many consecutive days in my life and not once was I ever bored or ready to pack it in. I could have hunted endlessly in this place.
John Henry made a special dinner tonight. Chicken fried kudu filets cooked over a wood fire in a cast iron skillet. It honestly was the best chicken fried steak I’ve ever had in my life! I promise if our deer tasted the same, I’d use up a lot more MLD tags each year. It’s the first time I break down and go back for seconds. When we get home, I’m happy to find I only gained 3.5 pounds. We leave for Joberg tomorrow for a little shopping before getting on the plane for the long journey back home.
A special thanks to John Henry, his wife Trish and two daughters, Pitra and Ivanna. They were gracious hosts and taking care of us the past two weeks meant sacrificing time with their own family. They are a fine, Christian family and I never felt safer in their care. The other staff that supported us included Joanna, who helped with the food/cleaning and Francis and Johannes the tracker/skinners. Francis is a top rate skinner and after observing him on the first animal, I knew I could entrust my trophies to his care. Johannes also had a smile every time I saw him and he seemed truly interested in helping in whatever way he could.
And maybe something I’m the most proud; all the meat from this hunt was prepared as biltong and donated to a local church as a fundraiser for their festival. John Henry sent me these photos of the product drying the day we arrived back in the States. We really put our money where our mouth was on this hunt and gratefully it will feed countless others.
Day 10- Coming back home
Monday July 27, 2015
We are all packed up this morning and after breakfast we say goodbye to the farm and our new friends. John Henry drives us the three hour trip back to Joberg and we stop in at Cambanos for a little shopping. We make the Joberg airport at 2 p.m. and our flight leaves out at 6:30 p.m. This also gives Lisa more shopping time at the airport mall. The returning flight is slightly longer due to flying into the jetstream and we arrive back in Atlanta at 4:45 a.m. (15.5 hour flight). After a short layover, our plane lands in San Antonio at 9:30 a.m. Texas time. The heat and humidly are the first thing to slap us as we depart the plane. It’s no doubt we have returned to the Texas summer. What a difference from the place halfway around the world we just left. We’ll be back some day, hopefully sooner rather than later.
Attachments
Tomato toasties, Peri Peri Sauce, Lamb chops.....
All three great culinary adventures in RSA.
My first toasty was on arrival at OR and it was incredible. Love them still.
Great hunt.
Awesome Kudu trophy that will be hard to beat any time soon.
You made it all the way through and so did I and the site is still operational.
Thanks for sharing.
All three great culinary adventures in RSA.
My first toasty was on arrival at OR and it was incredible. Love them still.
Great hunt.
Awesome Kudu trophy that will be hard to beat any time soon.
You made it all the way through and so did I and the site is still operational.
Thanks for sharing.
buck wild
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At least I went from "newbie" status to AH Member now
Albertaguy
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Well done sir!
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Great read! I love the shape of your Kudu!
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Good report, great hunt, very nice trophies.
Congrats and thanks for sharing !
Congrats and thanks for sharing !
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Great report Joe! I really enjoyed reading it.
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Really enjoyed your report, I also picked up a Porcupine quill and still got my Kudu
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Congrats on a great hunt! Good way to break in the wife, enjoyed the read Thanks for sharing.
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ABSOLUTELY GREAT STORY and very well written.. congratulations.
It is also very heart warming to read of such hunting passion and what you American hunters actually go through just to get to hunt in Africa. I was born and raised here, so for us it is just a matter of pack the 4 x 4 and trailer and head off to whatever area you have decided to hunt in this time... often up to 4 x times per year. We still have the added thrill of processing all the meat after the hunt when we get back home.. some into choice meat cuts and rest into biltong!!!
I also hunt outside of RSA so understand the frustrations and planning/ organizing etc that goes into the pre - safari hunts.
Maybe some day we can team up and do a couple of hunts together?
It is also very heart warming to read of such hunting passion and what you American hunters actually go through just to get to hunt in Africa. I was born and raised here, so for us it is just a matter of pack the 4 x 4 and trailer and head off to whatever area you have decided to hunt in this time... often up to 4 x times per year. We still have the added thrill of processing all the meat after the hunt when we get back home.. some into choice meat cuts and rest into biltong!!!
I also hunt outside of RSA so understand the frustrations and planning/ organizing etc that goes into the pre - safari hunts.
Maybe some day we can team up and do a couple of hunts together?
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