SOUTH AFRICA: Asbestos Mountains; Barbary Sheep, Beasts & Boss Rams With @BAYLY SIPPEL SAFARIS

This report is the second half of my 30 day two country safari in Africa. There may even be a couple surprises dashed into this report just for good measure. Do please enjoy.

I booked this hunt as a package deal advertised here on AH as a luxury mountain hunt for Barbary Sheep. It was completely and entirely underrepresented, because the word “luxury” simply is inadequate to describe the accommodations and marvelous hunting estate where the safari was conducted with @BAYLY SIPPEL SAFARIS

I knew that after the high-stakes DG hunt I was going to have in Zimbabwe, I was going to need a “bookend” hunt to unwind and just have fun before returning home, otherwise, I would have just turned around and came back to Africa costing me more money. A sheep hunt in the Asbestos Mountains seemed like the ideal remedy.

Dempsey’s communication and attention to detail in every aspect before the hunt was eclipsed only by his attention to detail and PH skills in the field.

There is a cliche, an old saw that has so much wisdom to it: “Africa is never cheaper than while you’re there.” My wife wanted a sheep and it took little effort to convince her this was worth the stretch to get a chance at a trophy ram.

I met Dempsey and his crew for the first time when they picked me up at Afton. Big John (a powerfully built man with hands that looked like they could wring rusted nuts off railroad carriage bolts) and Luke (Dempsey’s videographer for the duration of the hunt). I automatically liked everyone and we wasted no time getting to know one another and laughing for the next 6 hours of the drive to camp. After arriving in camp I met the fourth member of our team, Harry. Harry the owner and proprietor’s son, who was a second PH was absolutely indispensable. I was completely surrounded by experts and knew my instincts were correct in booking this adventure.

Day 1: Holy Sheep!

After coffee and a nice European breakfast of fruit, granola and yogurt (my usual breakfast for a mountain hunt) we left in Dempsey’s Hilux for the Asbestos Range. The estate rests on the east slope of the mountains and getting there by car means opening a gate and driving through and you’re there.

Everyone had their eyes peeled for sheep, but when in Africa you take the gifts presented. In our case it was a very nice warthog. After a very challenging side hill stalk the big boar got lucky and made the shrewd decision to vacate. I will only say this: that is the luckiest warthog in Africa.

We got back in the saddle and cruised up ever higher up towards the ridge crest when several different big bands of sheep were spotted. We took the road around and on to the top of the mountain and dismounted to get a look. We saw several great (not good) rams, but Dempsey and Harry agreed, “we can do better”.

We then later in the afternoon made a strong go at a group of Mountain Zebra (which I wanted, but more on that later), but, dang! Those buggers are tough, fast and smart! I think the only way to get one is if it falls off the mountain on top of you.

In the closing two hours Dempsey made an impossible spot on a lone ram at least a click and a half away. “Let’s go give it a closer look.” He said. And we were off.

Dempsey and Harry both agreed it was a big ram from about 500 meters away, but Dempsey felt we could close the distance and stay in defilade out of the ram’s binocular vision. And, boy did we ever! We closed the distance to about ~190 meters and got back onto the opposite side of the valley from it. A perfect vantage and position for a shot.

Dempsey put up the sticks and I positioned Dempsey’s custom .308 Win on them, dialed the scope up to 12X, dropped my pulse down to <50 bps with proper breathing and waited for Dempsey’s call.

“Jim, this is a very nice Ram. One we’re all going to be happy with, but this is day 1. It’s your call. Whatever you decide we’re satisfied with him, but we want you to be happy.” Said Dempsey.

I’m looking at this Ram as Dempsey is ewe bleating to it. Studying it like a book. And I’m wondering if I’m looking at the same Ram. Because this guy is an absolute brute with everything I love in big sheep. Lovely length, excellent mass, beautiful figure. What’s not to love? “Don’t pass on the first day for what you can’t find on the last day.” I heard in my head.

“I’m taking him.”

Moving downhill toward me and quartering to his left at 170 meters I touched off the nimble little .308 loaded with Barnes TTSX and watched the big old ram tumble off a shale shelf and come to rest in a sage bush.







Time for a sheep party!

Day 2 coming soon…

Day 2: Nothing of any significance happened this day.

Day 3: African tick bite fever.

I woke up drenched in sweat, chilled to the bone, aching from my knees to my scalp and had a miserable dull headache with a fever of 100.9.

Granted, there was a big celebration the evening prior. Any time an event like we experienced the day before happens (one in which nothing of any significance occurs) you can be certain that champagne corks will pop. But, having learned my lesson in Zim at my “leopard party”, I didn’t overindulge and ate a lot and stayed hydrated. But I could only wish for a hangover.

The pepper ticks in Zim are already legendary, but what we all experienced there was beyond everyone’s reckoning. Courtney (one of my Zimbabwe PH’s,) warned me that I should expect to get sick and educated me on symptoms to watch out for. Most concerning to me was swelling of a gland in my groin. It was hot to the touch and the size of an olive.

I had Doxycycline in my wellness company med kit. We did go out on a morning drive, but Dempsey turned us around and we were back in camp by 9:45. The family owners were so sweet to me and got on the phone to the doctor. I was in good hands.

I spent the entire day in bed and got healthy for the next day. If you’re going to be sick, there’s worse places to be so. Everyone was amazing to me.

Day 4: How to deliver bad news.

After a full day of rest, and having my usual early morning talk with my wife about how I felt and the days plan, I had bad news to report to Dempsey and I was nervous about it.

“My wife spiked my plans for a mountain zebra Dempsey, I’m sorry, but she said I already paid for two in Zim and she didn’t want her new home looking like a horse stable.” In her defense, she’s quite correct. She’s a very good artist and writer and she supports me 100%, and if she doesn’t want another, for all she puts up with my hunting ambitions, this was a small concession for me to make.

Dempsey took it in stride and asked what I wanted to concentrate on. “She wants a big blesbuck.” And, wow! Did Dempsey ever deliver!

After about a two hour stalk combined with Dempsey and Harry’s keen eye picking over a big band of rams, and one very excellent correction from one ram over to the proper one, we sealed the deal with a “bang-flop” from ~180 meters.





A beautiful old ram that easily meets high Rowland Ward standards. I’m not big on using the tape measure, but seeing how excited Dempsey and Harry were when he pulled out the tape for curiosity sake, even I had to know.


Day 5: “The old warrior.”

I never believed I would turn into a “hog hunter”, but for the remainder of my time at Oryx Trail with Dempsey and Harry, that’s what I became. And I loved it. Hunting hogs is hard, time consuming, frustrating and (when things work out) rewarding beyond compare.

Up on the mountain we glassed for hours. Until, finally we saw him. Ho-ly crap! Just look at him! There was no way in hell I was going to pass up the opportunity for this old man!

Down the steep shale slope we went as fast and as safely as possible. Then another 1 km run, and I do mean run, to catch up to him and his sow. Up went the sticks. I had sweat pouring down my head and back from the exertion. To call it a “stalk” would be preposterous. This was a mission. Dempsey on my left, Harry on my right, I managed one clean breath in through my nose into my belly to settle. It was enough for another “bang-flop” from the .308 Win.



Nobody in their right mind would pass on a chance at this old man. He was still bleeding from mouth where the tusk was broken off and had a deep wound under his eye. The brawl must have been legendary. I can’t help but wonder what condition the loser of the fight looked like.

Day 6,7: “Nothing but net.”

Day 6 we continued our pursuit of pork and ivory. Made several attempts but came up short. On the last hour we were enjoying our ride home. Luke asked a question of us all, “if you were on death row, what would you request for your final meal?” I wish I had said “pork chops.” The things that we talk about in hunting camp…

Just then, we all jumped at the sight of a solitary old impala ram. We were already on the lookout for “the one” and had already passed on several before. We all were glassing him. Dempsey and I had a conversation and, again he politely left it up to me. He was seeing an old Ram whose horns were deceivingly pointed inward. I was seeing a massive old animal that I could not pass on. “I’ve seen enough. Drop the sticks.” I said. Dempsey set them up and the little .308 delivered again.






An absolutely amazing old ram. I’ve got a thing about taking the time to always hunt an impala on every hunt in every country I’ve been or will ever go. I just love them. But, I will have to hunt a long time in Africa to beat this guy. Simply spectacular.

Day 7 was a bust. But hey, who cares? We still got one more day to hunt!

Wow. That sheep is fantastic with great mass. Congrats.

SCHUNTER73 said:

Wow. That sheep is fantastic with great mass. Congrats.

Click to expand...

Thank you. I’m thrilled with him.

Day 8: It only takes one.

“I got ripped off! Where is the rest of my warthog’s teeth!” Bonnie jokingly and not seriously at all chided Dempsey on day 5 after seeing the pictures I sent that evening while we were all enjoying trays of homemade charcuterie that Ryan (Harry’s father) makes at his processing plant. Dempsey told her “Not to worry. He would make it right.”

Boy and how!

On the final day Dempsey and Harry had us setup in a perfect position in the middle of an open valley where there is a dam. We passed hogs on the way in and there were a pair of boars in the group, but we left them be, knowing that they were heading eventually to the water. It was just a matter of time.

A couple hours later, still no warthogs. Except for one. It only takes one. He didn’t have, what appeared to be large tusks, but what he did have was a lot of everything else. He was enormous!

Up went the sticks. Luke said “please, I’m not ready.” “Shooting.” I said. “No. Wait!” Luke begged. I’m laughing to myself now, because I know I have all day on this shot. The big boar was grazing contentedly with no fear. “Ok, go.”…





Just for scale; in the second picture is Luke. He’s 6’2” I believe. The big boar bottomed out the skinning shed scale, but by our closest reckoning he weighed ~225#’s. A great story and take.

We tripped over a cooler of beer getting him loaded. Oops! There is nothing like having a beer in the late morning with good friends after a wonderful week hunting hard in the mountains of Northwest Cape, South Africa.

This is not the last time I will hunt with Dempsey. We’re already planning. And this is not the last time I will see this marvelous mountain range in SA or get to hunt with Harry. This is my top pick for a venue to introduce my son, daughter in law, and grandson to safari. In fact, I just hung up the phone with them. They can’t wait.

Cheers!

Forgot to put this in my last post. Sorry. Too much time passed to edit it in.

That aoudad is just perfect. Old old Barbary ram. Good thing you did not pass

I’m lucky I stumbled across this tonight! I didn’t want to spill the beans and ask about you doing a thread on your wind down hunt.
As usual you wrote an outstanding report, congratulations my friend.

Great hunt, congrats

Found the missing post where the cigars wherre dispalyed as trophies well done sir.