It's been about a month and a half since I got back and it has taken me this long to put together the beginnings of my hunt report. Silly things like work and household responsibility have been occupying me. Here's the start of it.
Tholo 2018
The Plan
This year started with one singular objective, a GIANT kudu. The number and size of the kudu at Tholo had impressed me the previous year. Given that I was hunting solo, I thought what better chance would I ever have to focus on the kudu of a lifetime?? I had been communicating with my PH, Riaan, for a few weeks and had let him know what he was in for and of course he was all in.
One pleasant sidebar this year was that I would be sharing camp with a fellow AH member. @cooper552 We booked our trips separately and discovered we would be in camp together through a few comments here on the forum. Though we had been communicating for a few months we only just met at the airport. As much as I enjoy traveling alone it’s always nice to meet new people with like interests. A great guy for sure and I can easily see us sharing another camp sometime in the future. Hopefully he will share his story as well.
The Travel
Delta 200 was uneventful.
My usual stop at the Intercontinental OR Tambo was pleasant.
Air Botswana took good care of me the following day and when we arrived in Maun we were greeted in customs by our inside guy, MT, who moved us through without much of a problem.
The last leg of our journey did have a couple of interesting aspects worth sharing. We were picked up at the airport by Steffan, a young PH from Tholo. A pleasant guy to be sure and best of all he quickly agreed to take care of our request for a beverage with “a bit more octane” than the bottled water he offered as we started out. It was Sunday so it took us a few stops to find somewhere “open”. I use the word “open” very loosely because at one point before entering the building he came back to the truck in search of a Leatherman. Armed with the necessary equipment he returned to the building and the “employees” supervised while he worked on opening the door. After making his way in he emerged with an adequate supply of frosty beverages and we were off again. He explained that the need for the Leatherman stemmed from the fact that the keys didn’t seem to work. He also had to talk the young lady through the in’s and out’s of currency exchange. He assured us that all was well and we were not in danger of being pursued.
As the conversation progressed he asked us the inevitable question “so what are you guys after this year”? At this we took turns over the next few miles sharing our respective plans. Something I have not yet mentioned is that in addition to my main objective I had a score to settle with the slipperiest, most elusive warthog in all of Africa. I shared this with my new friend and as I detailed how the offensive little swine had managed to make a fool of me the previous year a very inquisitive look came across his face. This look eventually transformed into a VERY proud grin. Just then he began describing the area where my pig hung out in great detail. I knew something was up, then came the final knife in the heart, “I shot that pig”. He proudly recounted how the pig had achieved celebrity status in camp after my trip last year and every PH around had been after him. As it so often happens with animals like this he and his client just happened across him one day and all the circumstances played in their favor. Just like that “my” pig was dead. No hard feelings of course but I had great fun with this for the remainder of the week.
Greetings and pleasantries were all around when we rolled into camp. Most of the faces were familiar but there were also some that I didn’t recognize. I was pleased to look towards the back and see Charles smiling back at me. I met and hunted with him my last time here and was happy to learn that he would be joining my adventure again. He is simply the best tracker I have ever met and had the pleasure of hunting with.
The Hunting
Day 1
The first day was warm and overcast with only a slight chance of rain in the forecast. A quick stop to prove the rifle and we were off. Riaan said we would concentrate our efforts out on the cattle property. This land is not actually part of the Tholo reserve but is owned by several different cattlemen who all allow Tholo to hunt. It’s generally more open than the main body of the reserve and game is not as plentiful BUT there are some really nice kudu to be found there. Our crew consisted of Lagos at the wheel, Riaan and I in the main seats, and our trackers, Charles and Oupa were bringing up the rear with their binocular eyes. Just as the excitement of the first day was starting to wane and we were settled in the clouds opened up and it started to flood. That’s right boys and girls, I had just traveled 10,000 miles to earn the distinction of being one of only two people I know to ever get rained out in the middle of the Kalahari Desert…………….go figure.
We were able to salvage the latter part of the afternoon and as usual there was no shortage of game. We spotted multiple kudu bulls but none of the class I was looking for.
Day 2
The skies were completely overcast as we started the long drive out to this morning. The miles and hours seemed to pass quickly as the day progressed. We would come across a bull and do our best to assess him from the truck. A couple of times we gave chase only to decide he wasn’t what we were after. To his credit Riaan never pressed the issue no matter what the bull looked like. In all fairness, I had not been able to give him an exact description of what I was looking for. All I had told him was that I would know when the right one stepped out. Based on this I suppose he was at a bit of a disadvantage, yet he never complained or begged for a better description. He had conceded to deliver his best guess on the length and leave the rest up to me. As much as I liked this arrangement I couldn’t help but feel like I owed him a better description. I just couldn’t find the right words. We worked hard all day but my dream bull never gave us a glimpse.
Day 3
This day started with promise. No real chance of rain and we could see a nearly cloudless sky as we pulled away from camp. During our conversations over the last couple of days I had reminded Riaan that I would consider ANY animal of ANY species if he deemed it to be something special. I suppose he may have had this in mind when he directed our driver towards the main body of the reserve.
Riaan’s tap on the side of the truck brought us to a rolling stop. He suggested that we go for a walk which I knew to mean there was an area close by that usually held plenty of game. We struck out and after about a mile of leisurely walking the pace gradually slowed to a more appropriate stalking pace. The procession was Charles, Oupa, Riaan, and I was bringing up the rear. A sudden stop told me someone had spotted something. Even though I know better than to break ranks and chance widening our frontal profile I couldn’t help myself when I stuck my head out from behind Riaan’s right shoulder. As I was doing my best turkey impression stretching my neck and straining my eyes to see what was so interesting I forgot the number one rule in these situations. If the animal is not readily visible then figure out where everybody else is looking then follow suit. As this dawned on me Riaan nudged me to reality and whispered “that is a hell of a wildebeest”. I finally caught on that he was standing in the shadows about 120 yards directly to our left. The sticks were already going up and I needed no further explanation of what was happening. As the rifle found it’s place in the V of the sticks he coached me that he was facing directly at us and I should aim an inch or two below his nose. The gloom made it difficult to pick out much detail but I managed to resolve enough of to satisfy me. The push of the 375 did not completely disrupt my sight picture but it didn’t matter. The thump of the big round was as clear as a bass drum. As wildebeest so often do he gave a slight wince, spun around on one foot, and disappeared as if he had only been grazed. Our group exploded with smiles and congratulations. We all heard the thump.
I find few things more satisfying than the sound a well-placed 375 round makes when it hits home.
A short stroll yielded my trophy. As we got close Riaan explained that there are far fewer 30” wildebeest taken than 60” kudu. This got my attention because the only reason he may be mentioning this is if there was a chance he might make 30”.
I’ve taken a half dozen or so wildebeest and had all but dismissed the idea of ever taking another one as a trophy but this one was exceptional. As we admired him we all decided that he would be mighty close to 30” but not quite. An incredible trophy that I’m quite proud of. I must mention that Charles was pleased with my shooting and congratulated me many times. The bullet had creased the end of his nose and bottom lip then took him dead center of the chest. It took out the top of the heart, split the liver, and ended up in his rear end. They are tough animals. Much respect.
The remainder of the morning was uneventful.
That afternoon we were not far from camp when we started to see a few kudu cows. This always had us on alert because the rut was just starting and the bulls were never far away. Sure enough there he was, the widest kudu bull I had ever laid eyes on and he was only about a hundred yards from the road. A gorgeous bull that most anyone would be thrilled to have. Riaan looked at me as if to ask “well”?? I knew enough about judging kudu at this point that despite his width and perceived length his curls were not very deep. He was just not the one I was looking for. His best guess on the length was 55” or 56”. He admitted that he was surprised I didn’t want to give him a go. This is when the words finally hit me to sum up what I was looking for. This bull was impressive to say the least but he did not make me say “HOLY SH+T”!! That’s exactly what I told him we were after. He gave me a nod of understanding and off we went.
We didn’t have to wait long for just such an encounter, maybe an hour. Out of nowhere we passed a gap in the bush and maybe 75 yards off the road was the most magnificent bull I’ve ever seen. A quick glance between Riaan and I acknowledged that this was it. The truck continued for a few hundred yards and stopped. We all dismounted in a hurry, took a moment to check the wind, and make a plan. We picked up his track fairly quickly. After following for only a few hundred yards Charles stopped to have a word with Riaan and rechecked the wind. I knew something was up and the wind was swirling terribly. We continued for a few more minutes and stopped. Riaan told me that the bull had not yet stopped running and the chances of catching up with him after this far were almost nonexistent. With this we called off the chase.
Encounters with a bull of this caliber is why I came here. They just do not grow them like this everywhere. A really good kudu can be like a ghost and will seldom make a mistake. After all, he did not grow that big being dumb. Another note on this particular bull was that his body alone was enough to give me a proper reason to go after him. He was something special.
To be continued..............................
BD
Tholo 2018
The Plan
This year started with one singular objective, a GIANT kudu. The number and size of the kudu at Tholo had impressed me the previous year. Given that I was hunting solo, I thought what better chance would I ever have to focus on the kudu of a lifetime?? I had been communicating with my PH, Riaan, for a few weeks and had let him know what he was in for and of course he was all in.
One pleasant sidebar this year was that I would be sharing camp with a fellow AH member. @cooper552 We booked our trips separately and discovered we would be in camp together through a few comments here on the forum. Though we had been communicating for a few months we only just met at the airport. As much as I enjoy traveling alone it’s always nice to meet new people with like interests. A great guy for sure and I can easily see us sharing another camp sometime in the future. Hopefully he will share his story as well.
The Travel
Delta 200 was uneventful.
My usual stop at the Intercontinental OR Tambo was pleasant.
Air Botswana took good care of me the following day and when we arrived in Maun we were greeted in customs by our inside guy, MT, who moved us through without much of a problem.
The last leg of our journey did have a couple of interesting aspects worth sharing. We were picked up at the airport by Steffan, a young PH from Tholo. A pleasant guy to be sure and best of all he quickly agreed to take care of our request for a beverage with “a bit more octane” than the bottled water he offered as we started out. It was Sunday so it took us a few stops to find somewhere “open”. I use the word “open” very loosely because at one point before entering the building he came back to the truck in search of a Leatherman. Armed with the necessary equipment he returned to the building and the “employees” supervised while he worked on opening the door. After making his way in he emerged with an adequate supply of frosty beverages and we were off again. He explained that the need for the Leatherman stemmed from the fact that the keys didn’t seem to work. He also had to talk the young lady through the in’s and out’s of currency exchange. He assured us that all was well and we were not in danger of being pursued.
As the conversation progressed he asked us the inevitable question “so what are you guys after this year”? At this we took turns over the next few miles sharing our respective plans. Something I have not yet mentioned is that in addition to my main objective I had a score to settle with the slipperiest, most elusive warthog in all of Africa. I shared this with my new friend and as I detailed how the offensive little swine had managed to make a fool of me the previous year a very inquisitive look came across his face. This look eventually transformed into a VERY proud grin. Just then he began describing the area where my pig hung out in great detail. I knew something was up, then came the final knife in the heart, “I shot that pig”. He proudly recounted how the pig had achieved celebrity status in camp after my trip last year and every PH around had been after him. As it so often happens with animals like this he and his client just happened across him one day and all the circumstances played in their favor. Just like that “my” pig was dead. No hard feelings of course but I had great fun with this for the remainder of the week.
Greetings and pleasantries were all around when we rolled into camp. Most of the faces were familiar but there were also some that I didn’t recognize. I was pleased to look towards the back and see Charles smiling back at me. I met and hunted with him my last time here and was happy to learn that he would be joining my adventure again. He is simply the best tracker I have ever met and had the pleasure of hunting with.
The Hunting
Day 1
The first day was warm and overcast with only a slight chance of rain in the forecast. A quick stop to prove the rifle and we were off. Riaan said we would concentrate our efforts out on the cattle property. This land is not actually part of the Tholo reserve but is owned by several different cattlemen who all allow Tholo to hunt. It’s generally more open than the main body of the reserve and game is not as plentiful BUT there are some really nice kudu to be found there. Our crew consisted of Lagos at the wheel, Riaan and I in the main seats, and our trackers, Charles and Oupa were bringing up the rear with their binocular eyes. Just as the excitement of the first day was starting to wane and we were settled in the clouds opened up and it started to flood. That’s right boys and girls, I had just traveled 10,000 miles to earn the distinction of being one of only two people I know to ever get rained out in the middle of the Kalahari Desert…………….go figure.
We were able to salvage the latter part of the afternoon and as usual there was no shortage of game. We spotted multiple kudu bulls but none of the class I was looking for.
Day 2
The skies were completely overcast as we started the long drive out to this morning. The miles and hours seemed to pass quickly as the day progressed. We would come across a bull and do our best to assess him from the truck. A couple of times we gave chase only to decide he wasn’t what we were after. To his credit Riaan never pressed the issue no matter what the bull looked like. In all fairness, I had not been able to give him an exact description of what I was looking for. All I had told him was that I would know when the right one stepped out. Based on this I suppose he was at a bit of a disadvantage, yet he never complained or begged for a better description. He had conceded to deliver his best guess on the length and leave the rest up to me. As much as I liked this arrangement I couldn’t help but feel like I owed him a better description. I just couldn’t find the right words. We worked hard all day but my dream bull never gave us a glimpse.
Day 3
This day started with promise. No real chance of rain and we could see a nearly cloudless sky as we pulled away from camp. During our conversations over the last couple of days I had reminded Riaan that I would consider ANY animal of ANY species if he deemed it to be something special. I suppose he may have had this in mind when he directed our driver towards the main body of the reserve.
Riaan’s tap on the side of the truck brought us to a rolling stop. He suggested that we go for a walk which I knew to mean there was an area close by that usually held plenty of game. We struck out and after about a mile of leisurely walking the pace gradually slowed to a more appropriate stalking pace. The procession was Charles, Oupa, Riaan, and I was bringing up the rear. A sudden stop told me someone had spotted something. Even though I know better than to break ranks and chance widening our frontal profile I couldn’t help myself when I stuck my head out from behind Riaan’s right shoulder. As I was doing my best turkey impression stretching my neck and straining my eyes to see what was so interesting I forgot the number one rule in these situations. If the animal is not readily visible then figure out where everybody else is looking then follow suit. As this dawned on me Riaan nudged me to reality and whispered “that is a hell of a wildebeest”. I finally caught on that he was standing in the shadows about 120 yards directly to our left. The sticks were already going up and I needed no further explanation of what was happening. As the rifle found it’s place in the V of the sticks he coached me that he was facing directly at us and I should aim an inch or two below his nose. The gloom made it difficult to pick out much detail but I managed to resolve enough of to satisfy me. The push of the 375 did not completely disrupt my sight picture but it didn’t matter. The thump of the big round was as clear as a bass drum. As wildebeest so often do he gave a slight wince, spun around on one foot, and disappeared as if he had only been grazed. Our group exploded with smiles and congratulations. We all heard the thump.
I find few things more satisfying than the sound a well-placed 375 round makes when it hits home.
A short stroll yielded my trophy. As we got close Riaan explained that there are far fewer 30” wildebeest taken than 60” kudu. This got my attention because the only reason he may be mentioning this is if there was a chance he might make 30”.
I’ve taken a half dozen or so wildebeest and had all but dismissed the idea of ever taking another one as a trophy but this one was exceptional. As we admired him we all decided that he would be mighty close to 30” but not quite. An incredible trophy that I’m quite proud of. I must mention that Charles was pleased with my shooting and congratulated me many times. The bullet had creased the end of his nose and bottom lip then took him dead center of the chest. It took out the top of the heart, split the liver, and ended up in his rear end. They are tough animals. Much respect.The remainder of the morning was uneventful.
That afternoon we were not far from camp when we started to see a few kudu cows. This always had us on alert because the rut was just starting and the bulls were never far away. Sure enough there he was, the widest kudu bull I had ever laid eyes on and he was only about a hundred yards from the road. A gorgeous bull that most anyone would be thrilled to have. Riaan looked at me as if to ask “well”?? I knew enough about judging kudu at this point that despite his width and perceived length his curls were not very deep. He was just not the one I was looking for. His best guess on the length was 55” or 56”. He admitted that he was surprised I didn’t want to give him a go. This is when the words finally hit me to sum up what I was looking for. This bull was impressive to say the least but he did not make me say “HOLY SH+T”!! That’s exactly what I told him we were after. He gave me a nod of understanding and off we went.
We didn’t have to wait long for just such an encounter, maybe an hour. Out of nowhere we passed a gap in the bush and maybe 75 yards off the road was the most magnificent bull I’ve ever seen. A quick glance between Riaan and I acknowledged that this was it. The truck continued for a few hundred yards and stopped. We all dismounted in a hurry, took a moment to check the wind, and make a plan. We picked up his track fairly quickly. After following for only a few hundred yards Charles stopped to have a word with Riaan and rechecked the wind. I knew something was up and the wind was swirling terribly. We continued for a few more minutes and stopped. Riaan told me that the bull had not yet stopped running and the chances of catching up with him after this far were almost nonexistent. With this we called off the chase.
Encounters with a bull of this caliber is why I came here. They just do not grow them like this everywhere. A really good kudu can be like a ghost and will seldom make a mistake. After all, he did not grow that big being dumb. Another note on this particular bull was that his body alone was enough to give me a proper reason to go after him. He was something special.
To be continued..............................
BD
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