SOUTH AFRICA: KMG Father & Son Hunt June 1- June 12

Gutterdoc and Bluegoose, great story so far! What did you guys think of Breakfast!!?? I have stayed there with my family in the exact type of suite. Place is incredible! Kevin

June 1. Marius picks us up and off to the concession. We make a quick stop to the taxidermist, Hunter and Collectors. Forgot the friggin' camera. Oh well. On the way we stopped at another little farm stand type place and get some grilled bread stuffed with butter, jam and cheese. Right on time. It has rained for the past 24 hours and today is no different.

The lodge is new. Cool on the inside but appropriately quaint, like a lodge should be. Room is spacious. Mounts are abundant. Roof is grass thatched. It is by far the nicest place we have stayed while hunting. We have really been is some shit holes. Literally. We hastely unpack and head out to sight in the rifles. We are using suppressors for the first time. AWESOME! I get the good ol' trusty Savage dialed in after 2 shots. 2" high at 100 yards. Good to go. Mind you it is still raining, pouring. Dad's turn. This is where the train comes off the tracks. He shoots 3" low, then 12" high, then 8" right. No rhyme or reason. Move in to 25 yards, just to get onto paper. He isn't even hitting the target at 25. Marius tries his magic. No joy. We decide to stop after 20+ rounds. Dad is pissed and red hot like a baboon's ass. For those of you you don't know him, I'm sure you know his type. Retired Army bad ass, SF green guy, can shoot the wings off a fly at 1000 yards, while his heart rate never goes above 46 kind of guy. He is mad as hell as expected I would be too. I am praying NOT for another repeat of Texas, where he had to use my gun to harvest his Aoudad. Very proud individual. I'll let him chime in if he wants to tell the tale of Texas.

Back at the lodge, dry clothes Wildebeest kabobs, Kudu back-strap and all the fixings. Kudu is good. After dinner, through a process of elimination we finally come to the conclusion that Dad's gun is not free floated and the wood swelled and is contacting the barrel. His custom multi-thousand dollar walnut tack driver is out of commission. Hopefully it will dry out before the hunt is over. Once again my weapon will be the primary and only gun for the hunt. The $477 Savage is definitely besting the competition. Scotch, wine dessert. Off to bed busy day tomorrow.

Great write up! Looking forward to the rest

No it's not a multi-thousand, but it is a custom made by Frank Wells in the late 80s. A tack driver when all is well with the universe. If I could have found a garbage can that is where it would have ended up that day! We should just forget Texas. Yes, my sons 7mm Ruger that I bought him saved the day. But then that's another story.

Marius has added a few mounts since last year!!

It is pretty amazing how that Lion sign on the fence seems to stand out and get everyones attention!!!
That Steenbok is also and eye catcher.

I wish I had video of the boss using it as a Training aid for Rigby. Pretty funny stuff.

Sucks not to have your own rifle in operation.

Keep it coming.

Bad news on the rifle stock. Sometimes the gunsmith doesn't seal the barrel channel. Can result in bad news. My only wood stock rifle is a Dakota arms that my wife gave me for Christmas some yrs ago. Been to Africa 2 times, but I just don't use it around here. Woods to pretty to scratch up. Plus I don't trust is in the weather!
Keep it coming. Nice report. Bruce

June 2. Off for Kudu. After coffee and a light breakfast we head out. We grab the two Jack Russell terriers, Flex and Rigby. Those of you who know Marius and Kim, know these two dogs are their children. They are great dogs. Flex is the older more experienced one while Rigby is the puppy who has a very bad case of gas, everyday. Really. He gives the best of them a run for the money. Every one is silent and deadly and always in the bakkie.

The hunting area around the lodge is expansive, green, hilly or mountainous depending on what you are used to, rocky and at times slippery. That morning we saw ostrich, which I have come to hate passionately, wart hogs, eland, zebra, kudu, jackal, impala, blue and black wildebeest and baboons. My eyes are not accustomed to spotting these animals very well at all. Marius doesn't really need binos. He has eyes like an eagle. Just for shit and grins I would throw up the binos and say, "There's a Kudu" and Marius would put up his binos in the same direction and say, "Yep, got 'em. Immature bull." I was joking, he wasn't.

We put a couple of stalks on some Kudu that just didn't pan out. We walked a lot, I mean a lot. Hell, it was day one and we put the miles in. Ate a late lunch at the lodge, warthog and blesbok patty sausage. Soon after, we spotted a mature Kudu and decided to put on a stalk. After an uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill through the bushes, we see the bull. He decides to lay down under a tree after chasing some cows. We set up on the opposite ridge with a slight cross wind in our favor. Marius puts me on the short sticks and I wait for him to stand up. I wait and wait. I have never shot anything laying down before. I wait and wait some more. I can't take it anymore. Trying to control my breathing and heart rate is failing at this point. He rest of the hunt is based upon the first shot, for me at least.

Marius is different from the other PH/guides in the US. Most of the hunts we have been on in the US, we have been told when you CAN shoot. In South Africa, we were basically told, if you are steady and comfortable, make sure you have a clear shot, and let your PH know when you are about to pull the trigger so he can follow you bullet/impact/miss/whatever. So completely different and laid back. Nothing like being told to "Shoot NOW!"

Well, the Kudu never stood up, ever again that is. BOOM!, roared the .338 Win Mag. Crack! Smack! Thud! Dad immediately says "Good shot son." Loew the other PH, says it was a "cock shot". I'm thinking, oh no, what did I do wrong. Come to find out that it means a good shot. Different country, different slang. The Kudu was hit solidly and just rolls over, dead. 240 yards. The Barnes 225 gr. TTSX is awesome, brutal. Our hand-loads. Gratifying. The bullet is sitting in the opposite shoulder, just under the skin. Perfect. One shot. No where to go but down from here. I hope it all goes this smooth for the rest of the trip.

Uneventful night. Dinner was Wildbeest shepards pie. Pretty damn good. Time for shower and bed, big day tomorrow. We have finally drawn blood.

Keep it coming, I'm learning a lot about what to expect when I get there next year and it all looks great. After hunting the Kalahari my last two trips this will definitely be a change of terrain and scenery.

Awesome Kudu! Congrats. Keep it coming.

I'm glad everyone is liking the post. Just to let you know a little more about my dad and our hunting style. We don't carry a tape measure. Never will. The hunt to us is about good times and bad one's too. It's about being together and sharing memories. We live on opposite sides of the US and don't see one another often enough. It is about the stalk, time spent together, harvesting a mature representation of the species and drinking scotch at the end of a hard day.

Awesome report ... keep writing!

Ditto!!!!

Can't go wrong with a kudu as your first African animal.

Great report, I love the pictures, you are posting a great hunting story so far.

June 3. Up early to head off to a different concession. At this point we are looking for anything. There has been a rare "cut off low" that has been stuck over top of the East Cape for 4 days. We have had rain, more than our share and have hunted through it. We see ostrich, blue wildebeest, kudu, impala, blesbok, nyala and warthog. Every stalk is not going according to plan. We keep getting busted by impala and wildebeest. No one's fault, just shit luck. Finally Dad gets on an impala herd and picks out a mature ram. The stalk is on. I find a nice spot and stay behind. I wait to hear the shot. It finally comes! Impala down at 50 yards. Thank goodness. The day is not a bust. Dad has drawn blood on his first African animal. We could have taken 2, but we are still hunting with one gun. Damn.

We head down the road to find some Kudu. After some good stalking, Marius puts Dad on a bruiser of a Kudu. The bull was chasing a cow and was moving at a good clip. Sticks go up, no shot. Chase some more. Sticks go up, no shot. Off again. Finally sticks go up, a shot cracks and the Kudu runs like hell. Dad says he is hit and Marius says it is a miss. In come the judges, Flex and Rigby. Nothing was picked up by the dogs. No blood found. A clean miss. No harm, it is hunting after all. Dad is not happy and down on himself. We move on.

Later that day, Marius spots a monster Kudu. He decides it is my turn to shoot, since we still are using one gun. We give chase. This guy is really covering some ground. Sticks up, no shot. Marius and I are in hot pursuit. We go over one ridge, then two ridges, then three ridges. Looking back we notice Dad is getting further behind, but still following. After we cross the last ridge he/we loose line of sight on one another. The Kudu eludes us and we decide to round up Dad and start over again. Where is he? We look for quite some time. Reinforcements called in to find a half deaf, nearly blind, camouflaged gringo, walking the densely overgrown African veldt. Sorry Dad, the truth hurts. We walk 3 plus miles and move the truck twice. We finally find him or as he would tell it, he finds us. See, we lost Dad but according to him, he wasn't lost. He doubled back and went to the truck the first time. He then decided to go for a walk. When we returned we moved the truck in our search efforts. He then walked to where we moved the truck and proceeded to nap in the shade. When we find one another, he is fully rested, but mildly irritated. He says his piece and moves on. He is good in that regard. Search and Rescue of Dad is called off. Time for evening hunt.

We stalk an Impala with in 25 yards. Not a shooter. The rest of the night was the same. Our mojo is not good, we need some good old fashioned luck. We head back to the lodge for birthdays of the camp staff. Dinner was T-bones and warthog sausage. One of the best meals yet. Birthday cake and shots of Jager all around. Four shots later it is time for bed. I should sleep good. We have put some serious miles in so far. The weather looks horrible for tomorrow, damn "cut off low".

Congrats, you guys are having a blast, despite all difficulties

Great report. Keep it coming.

Really enjoying the read!

Nothing like a father/son hunt.

June 4. As expected the weather is horrible. Rain, wind, cold. Wind is 40-50 mph with driving rain. Snow is forecasted 35 miles away. Great. Par for the course. We decide to stay inside today. No brainer. We gather firewood and sit inside the lodge and spend the morning trying to light it. Just remember that cooking oil works very well when all else fails!

This gives us time to reflect on the hunt so far and rest. The resident furry creatures, Bolt, Flex and Rigby, keep us company. We have walked a fair amount in the last two days. I feel good in being able to keep up with Marius. Anyone who has hunted with him knows EXACTLY what I'm talking about.

We have to make up some ground. We might split up tomorrow to get back on schedule. The weather is the deciding factor. Pork chops for dinner. I must add that chutney is eating on everything, really everything. I have not seen mayonnaise. Butter is used for everything as well. I could get used to this.