SOUTH AFRICA: Game 4 Africa Safaris 2018 Brothers In Arms

Firebird

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This is my first safari so obviously my first hunt report. I'll start with a basic summary for those of you who just want to see the horns so to speak and for those of you who want to savor the whole trophy, I'll write out the rest of the experience with lots of pictures thereafter.
My brother Mike joined me on the hunt and I couldn't have pulled it off without his assistance. Since he is not a member here, I will tell his story from my perspective as best I can, and there are a couple other stories along the way that should be told.
We hunted with @Game 4 Africa Safaris in the eastern cape of South Africa from July 20-28, 2018 on one of their 7 day minimum of 10 animal, stay free packages. This is not a package with required animals, it is a menu of animals that are available to those patient and willing to work a bit. Our ph and the only person I communicated with was Wik Coetzee (the w is pronounced V) and all our interration was by e mail. We shared one rifle, my .300 win mag with 200 grain trophy bonded bear claw ammunition. I used Gracie travel for our travel arrangements and was pleased with the service. I used hunters permits africa to get gun permits handled and get us in and out of the airport. This was the biggest mistake I made and cannot recommend them nor would I use them again. Bruce from Gracie travel saved the day and next time they will provide all my services.
We created nearly identical wish list that included kudu, nyala, waterbuck, zebra, impala and blesbok. Mike wanted bushbuck and I wanted the wildebeests and a red hartebeest. We also considered springbok if we had time. We achieved our lists but with some give and take along the way-keep in mind that you should always be prepared to take what Africa offers! Trophy quality was excellent across the board. Keep in mind these are eastern cape kudu. I'll discuss gemsbuck more when I get to that point but that was a disappointment and something I still don't understand. It was the only animal we took that we consider sub par.
In additon to the list animals (there were many more available but we chose not to actively pursue them) we did see steenbuck, scimitar horned oryx, bontebok, baboon, ostrich, buffalo, giraffe, eland (I had considered hunting eland and we had a day we could have done it but fate intervened) cape zebra, fallow deer, color variations of springbok and an aardwolf and a bat eared fox. We recognize we were very fortunate to see these in broad daylight as well as a couple species of mongooses we saw along the way. We are bird guys at heart and I kept a lengthy list of birds we saw but did not hunt.
Lodging was excellent, we each had our own chalet with en suite bathroom, mini fridge and plenty of places to unpack and store your things, even a safe should you require one. They have a main lodge where you can eat meals, enjoy nightly outdoor fires and an indoor bar\trophy room. You can dine indoor or out and food was prepared indoors and over open fire outdoors. Those Coetzee boys can cook and I've never met anyone who cares for meat bette than they do, from field prep to plate-top notch!
We had an extra day and opted to go to Pumba game reserve on a photographic safari which was wonderful. I took over 1000 photos and would take more if I could go back. I also took hundreds of photos on Coetzee's property but the animals at the park are numb to humans and could be well photographed with a 35 mm pocket camera. We considered a tour of bushman art areas but alas, all time ends before we will it to do so.
Addo elephant park is also an option and there is a cheetah rehab facility which both intrigue me, next time!
We rode in four different vehicles, all well maintained and solid hunting vehicles with racks in the back for firearm storage and an elevated seat to view from. We never had so much as a flat tire and believe me, they take those trucks everywhere. Typically we were in the cab where we benefited from Wik's game spotting brilliance while the trackers stayed in back and tapped the cab when something big and wonderful was spotted. I'll talk more about trackers later on but I need to mention the dogs. The Coetzee family live and work together on the hunting property and at their "butchery" in nearby Grahamstown. There is John the father and ph, Amanda the mom and the two "boys" Colin and Wikus. I say boys as I am 20 years senior to both of them but they are both licensed ph's and outstanding hunting partners. They get along like brothers should and were professional at all times. You cannot mention the family without mentioning the jack russels. I forget the names of all of them but will mention them in my stories and they are very much part of every conversation and hunting event that happens. Mike and I each owe them credit for finding wounded animals and they were moslty wonderful to have at work and at the house.
The remainder of my report is intended to be respectful and appreciative to the entire Coetzee household as they gave us the trip of a lifetime and they have my eternal gratitude!

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TRAVEL DAY: Flew Delta from Salt Lake City to JFK. Had no issue checking on the rifle, tsa officials had me open the pelican case so they could search it. They werent interested in the rifle so much as the camera lens, rangefinder and hunting knife inside. No big deal and we are on our way. Night flight but I didn't sleep. My favorite part was watching a lightning storm from above and to the side of it near the Omaha, NB area. Love that place and the lighting show was a fascinating sight. Bags were checked through jfk to Joburg so nothing to do but endure the layover. Thanks to Byron Hapgood we had arranged the exit row seating through Gracie travel which provided much appreciated leg room, and the freedom to stand, stretch and move around for the 15 hour flight to Joburg. I really couldn't sleep but enjoyed the dark, quiet, smooth flight. Had to do the passport checks, luggage collection and finally the little out of the way office where they checked guns and handed me my pre approved temporary gun permit. Hunters Permits Africa was there holding a sign with our names and Adele moved us from office to office and finally the departure gate without much trouble. So far the gun slows us down but isn't really a hinderance. Caught the smaller plane to Port Elizabeth. This plane doesn't offer movie screens but the more open seating ensures that everyone has leg and arm room and it is a very quick, comfortable flight. Landed in tiny PE and gather bags. No rifle. The security lady moves us to the next office during which we walk right past Wik holding a sign with our names. My bag was waiting in the office and after a signature, I reclaimed my rifle case and ammo case and we are driving towards Grahamstown. My initial impression of Wik is-tall, dark and handsome. I'm just over six foot and he has an inch or two on me, slighter of build (oh to be in my twenties again!) and friendly. I should mention a bit about my rifle and ammo. . .

Big Frank is my .300 win mag Remington 700. The rifle was given to me by my friend Frank D. from N. Carolina over 20 years ago as a token of friendship and has been a cherished treasure ever since. Frank and I talked by phone just before I left and he told me of a situation he was having with cancer and other issues. Frank will never make it to Africa but his rifle will, and the legacy carries on. Frank offered that if he could go, he would shoot a waterbuck and a warthog. I offered as how I would do my best to make those wishes come true.
I have a swarovski 3.5-18x44 X5 scope with adjustable turret held by Talley bases and rings. I also had the scope base holes drilled bigger to 8\40 for the strength. If you are going all the way to Africa, might as well buy some piece of mind. I had a custom made turret special for my load and the specs for Grahamstown area. It worked very well! The rifle also has a Timney trigger and Frank himself glass bedded the stock. I did have friend Big Sam strip the hi gloss finish from the stock and restain it a lovely flat dark brown. For ammo I used 200 grain TBBC figuring it was big enough for zebra, wildebeest and even Eland should that opportunity arise and would therefore work on the smaller species. I bought this as factory ammo but the groups were not to my satisfaction so I pulled the bullets from a box of the factory ammo and did some reloading. I got lucky and found an extremely accurate load with rl22 at around 2750fps in my first couple attempts. I pulled and handloaded 80 rounds which was time and money well spent!
You can rent a rifle from the Coetzee ph's and I have held several of those rifles. All top notch, high quality and very accurate rifles if you want to skip the hassle of traveling with your rifles. BUT would you go to disneyland and leave your kids home?! And so I took Big Frank the rifle to Africa with me and I am glad I did.

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That first travel day Wik gave us a tour of the lodge, reviewed our lists and of course down to the range to check the rifle. Big Frank was in good form and required no adjusting. Wik's stiks are better than the trigger sticks we had been practicing from. These were stiff and strong and if you need to adjust them, you just move the right leg up or down-simple. Mike is typically a muzzleloader hunter and I bowhunt mostly. I do a lot of load work up and tinkering with my own rifles though, so shooting a rifle is more natural for me than my brother. And we are both left handed shooting a right handed rifle. Growing up we never knew the difference. . . The gun could hold its own, the question then, how would the shooters do? We all know a rifle is just a mechanism and requires the touch of a human in order to become a tool.

Day One-PASS THE DUIKER. I offered Mike first opportunity with the rifle by Wik's choice we would pursue the much desired kudu. We drove across the road from the Coetzee property to an area that had flat open valleys and thick brush hillsides. Africa is amazing simply for the amount of diversity you encounter. Zebra, impala and finally Wik is pointing out kudu for us. Those first kudu we spotted got spooked by some guinee hens that flew out of an old abandoned homestead and landed up on its metal roof. Good stuff for a couple bird guys. Kudu were tough to spot but Wik could find them at every place we stopped the truck. We saw other game as well but as we moved up the hills on our feet now, it was predominantly kudu. I did spot one big waterbuck but we were busy watching some big spiral horns at the time. They were aware of us and just stayed ahead of us until finally they disappeared as grey ghosts often do. Tip toeing along old two track beater roads, glassing ahead and at the opposite hillsides. I'm embarrassed to say I never saw kudu first and didn't even see the buffalo at first. Two wonderful old bulls on the opposite ridge just feeding and eye balling us suspiciously. At two hundred yards we weren't a threat yet but they weren't ignoring us either. After taking pix and discussing horns, we moved on trying to find more kudu. And we did, just not bulls big enough to warrant a stalk. I loved the thick nature of the country and without the altitude it was a pleasure to walk the hillsides. Finally Wik called it a morning and gave the two trackers, Mike and Sader (Sandalay) orders to do one final push on the way out. It produced more kudu sightings but still not shooter bulls. Back in the truck, headed to the bottom of the hills to meet the trackers. Suddenly Wik is pointing and talking excitedly for the first time since our arrival. I see them run toward us, presumably away from the trackers and as soon as they get into the thick stuff we are out of the truck doing the gun loading shuffle. The two bulls come out the top of the brush and Wik tosses the sticks into place and Mike is looking awkward trying to get on the sticks and adjust the scope and Wik says "big bull, shoot him on the shoulder." Five seconds that seem like and hour and I am pleading with deity for something amazing to happen and friends it does! The bull takes the shot hard and switches directions, runs twenty yards maybe and then he tips over. None of us were expecting them down low or late in the morning but just like that it happened and its over and time to go put hands on our first African animal, a kudu bull no less. Lots of pictures and posing and hand shaking and big silly grins. The bull is long and heavy. Mike had hoped for a wide bull and this one was narrow. We didn't ever think to pause and look that hard before it was all over. Keep this in mind as it will be important later on.
Now the trackers become amazing. Tracker is a misleading term. These guys don't actually track much. They are spotters, drivers and now they cut the stomach from the bull. They emtpy the ofal then place the stomach in a sack to save for eating. Then the bull is tied a particular way so the cape wont be damaged and the load even and the two black men smaller than me by a hundred pounds each, hoist the bull on a pole to their shoulders and start down the hill. I wanted to help, didn't want to be the lazy hunter who never helped. They weren't having my assistance and finally I realized it wasn't my job or my place to help them. Mike the tracker always has a smile, Sader (like darth vader) doesn't smile but he's the guts man and will run the dogs and he won't let you lift anything. He was quiet but I really appreciated him.

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Great report so far! Looking forward to the rest.
 
Back at the lodge the trackers hoist the bull out of the truck to be skinned and the gutting finished. Wik explained how they can utilize all of the animal, lungs, stomach, bones and all. One of the guys washed the stomach in a barrel of water until it was clean and in a strange way-beautiful, heavily detailed almost like a doily. After watching that process it was odd as it sounds--lunchtime. Short naps were in order or there is rugby to watch or darts to play or books to read. My favorite though is watching the game that come to the un-hunted, irrigated pasture in front of the chalets. Always zebra and warthogs and usually waterbuck and impala. We would eventually see trophy nyala and eland in there as well among others. I never got tired of working that field over with my binos or camera. Around three pm it was time to load up and head out to look for a kudu of my own.

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Stayed on the family property tonight. Fences are an understood reality in this part of the world. So are dirt roads. We passed through a gate and drove to the edge of a broad valley. It was thick on top but in the bottom the thick spots were hit or miss. In one of those spots that wasn't so thick I saw my first nyala bull. He was in the sun and puffed himself up, posing for an unseen bull or cow which we did see and he was magnificent. Every hue in his hair showed, every spot of white and the white underside of his tail. It left an impression on my mind and I still kick myself for not having the camera with me. We watched him and some kudu and some impala for awhile as Wik sized the bull up. Finally he declared it had some growing to do. Just another inch he indicated with his fingers and we slowly moved on to the next vantage point. The next spot was more of the same and the next and the next. Always there were kudu or impala but none of interest. Then we got to a spot and almost straight down I could see a little brown animal. Nothing special just little and brown. Wik checked it out and very calmly said he knew duiker were not on my list but this was an exceptional duiker if I wanted it. It was special as its 5 and a half inch horns grew more wide than straight up, sort of following its ear line. It was not aware of us and I had time to look at him in the scope. He was cool for sure and duiker are cheap. I know better than to kick sand in Africa's face. I knew I should shoot this record book duiker. I also knew I don't care about record books. If I killed this duiker it would just be to pull the trigger, just to kill something. I might as well be shooting coke cans on the hillside (thats foreshadowing just fyi) and since I didn't want one when I got here, I didn't need to kill this buck now. I knew better but I told Wik I would pass. I hope he understood and I hoped I wasn't letting my ph down. Wik was cool about it, no pressure, no anger just "lets go look over on this side." The canyon had a dog leg angle to it and off the other leg we were peering into a small dry creek bed. On the far side of that creek only his top half exposed was the biggest nyala bull I had seen so far. "Can you take him from here from sticks?" I didn't know but I wanted to try. He hadn't seen us yet and I had time to steady on the sticks. At 210 yards I held on the lowest part of his body that wasn't covered by brush and pressed into the trigger. At the boom the nyala simply disappeared. Mike said he thought I hit it, Wik wasn't sure, but we were all certain it hadn't bolted out of there. Wik called the trackers on the radio and they drove down close to the area. Wik guided them in on the radio and I held my breath. No noise from the jack russels. . . I don't know the work in the native Xhosa language but Wik did and he offered his hand and reported the trackers had found it dead right where I shot it. Halleluia! We wasted no time getting off that canyon rim and joining the guys and dogs at the spot. Dark was coming quick and we were hustling to get photos. And when the celebration was over, Sader slight the belly and pulled the stomach out-in Africa, meat in all its forms is the most important end product.

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Arrived back at the lodge to a welcoming outdoor fire by the pool. At my room I found that the ladies had pulled the drapes, turned on the lamp and my bed was made. I had a hot shower, put on clean clothes and headed to the fire pit. I knew I was in trouble when I filled out my guest questionaire and submitted it and Wik immediately responded with "what is mtn dew?" In South Africa they have coke, coke light, tab and orange or purple fanta. Thats it and thats all. The fanta tastes better there than in the US and I was constantly thirsty for bottled water anyway. Dinner served around 7 was springbok and mixed veggies. I had requested that we eat game meat and there was some every night but there was also usually something more domestic. Tonight I believe there were lamb chops.
John Coetzee joined us for dinner. After the meal he stayed at the table and talked rugby, guns and bullets with us. I enjoyed the conversation and would enjoy his engaging talks in nights to come when there was time after dinner to have them. The ladies in the kitchen Dosch and Bongi cleaned up and fussed while we watched rugby and finally around 930 turned in. I started a bad sleep schedule that I never could break. Not excited or jet lag because I wasnt tired during the daytime but I was only ever able to sleep about four hours.
DAY TWO: Drove a distance to Vernon (i think) farm where the kudu share the country with the beautiful Inguni cattle. We dropped trackers at various mtn ranges to watch for bulls and we found our own mtn to watch. Slowly we walked down the ridge watching for kudu. During that time we had a duiker and a couple warthogs right in front of us but unaware of our prescence. Wik saw a tremendous bull with some cows about 500 yards distant and we started the stalk. At the bottom of the ridge we stopped to glass but couldn't turn them up. Wik or the spotter (definitely it wasn't me) found some cows the other direction working up the hill toward thicker brush. Wik threw up the sticks and had me get ready, fully expecting a bull to be with the cows. And there was and he was gorgeous. Wik asked if I could make the shot. I had ranged it earlier at 350 and now we were a bit closer. I told him I would try it if I felt steady on the sticks. Adjusted the turret and cranked the scope to 18 and slowly raised the reticle from his hoof up that front leg and just as it passed the elbow the trigger squeezed itself. Big Frank roared and the kudu bucked and ran. He went about 40 yards before he got weak legged and pitched over into the scrub brush. Just like that my kudu was down! On our way to my bull, we saw three other very good bulls. To my eyes at least two of them were shooters. It was a beautiful sight, one worth remembering. I had lots of time to stroke the bulls face and touch stroke his mane and inspect the umbilical hernia he has likely had since birth. It was covered with awful ticks, that hernia. This time four men with two poles carried my bull out for me. The truck was sort of close but they had to work for it-and when one of the poles broke it sure didn't help any. Shook hands with the farmer on the way and thanked him for the great experience and the privilege of hunting there, in the rolling brush hills with the spotted, well horned cattle.

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I don't see the pic of your nyala??? Am I missing it?
 
Similar to yesterday we arrived home and had a light lunch in the lodge. The guys went to the huge cool room and skinning area to work on the meat, cape and horns. We could nap, read or in my case, wander nearby with camera in hand. Wik typically spent some time dealing with texts and e mails and paperwork among his other responsibilities. But around 2:30 we started putting men and dogs into the truck so we could head out and try to find a nyala bull for Mike. We would stay on the Coetzee property but we would travel a ways first, through a locked gate. One of the trackers got down from the rack and kicked the dirt road a bit. We all watched the wind lazily catch the dust and stir it only slightly. Then we continued on towards the top of the canyon so we could peer down into the brush. Now we had kudu hanging in the cool room, of course we saw several big kudu bulls. I say we but generally I was pretty slow on the finding part. Mike and Wik had moved down the road and I hung with Elliot the tracker. Looking downslope where we were standing I saw it first-Its my story I'll tell it how I want to. . . I showed Elliot and he didn't do much. Should we radio Wik and tell them?! Elliot just smiled patiently and said, Wik can see it. Shortly we saw Mike on the sticks but the bull was walking, sneaking more accurately describes it, away from us toward the thicker riverine brush. Mike never got a shot and the bull eventually got to the thick stuff. Soon one of the trackers became a pusher and worked his way around the bull's location. The bull finally came out, sneaking away from the tracker errr pusher. At 150 yards Mike fired his first. Nothing happened but the bull came a bit closer. Mike fired again and thought he hit it. I thought he missed but as the bull turned and started away Mike tried to put another in him, thinking it was already hit, he went ahead with a hard quartering shot. This time he connected, breaking the hip and the bullet traveled forward at least into the paunch although the guys told us it hit a lung when they cleaned it. At any rate the bull was hit and made it back to the thick cover of the creek. It was near dark and for the first time we saw the little dogs go into action. They made a furious racket after only a short distance and the tracker radioed that they had it found and it was nearly dead. By the time we got down to their location the bull was dead and the little dogs were looking for the next employment opportunity. We had to really hustle to get a couple photos before dark. Im trying to download the best pix and I hope you can open them-some load and some don't and I dont know what the difference is. Not even my teenage daughter can figure it out so it must be serious.
Dinner was springbok tenderloin and smoked pork chops. I overate and then the ladies brought out dessert. It was a mint tart dessert and again, I overate. . .

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It sounds like a grand adventure! Exceptional first Africa hunt!
 
Wow! Never seen an nyala that big!
 
DAY THREE: We had excellent weather our entire trip. Some days the wind would blow which we would use to our advantage and we were always treated to a great sunrise and a full horizon sunset. This morning we slept a bit longer and enjoyed scrambled eggs and warthog sausage for breakfast. There was always fruit and yogurt and and toast and wonderful orange\mango juice-coffee if you wanted it. Today we are back on Coetzee property and seeking waterbuck. As the day slowly warmed we sat on a tall canyon rim and glassed an immense valley filled with speck broom-the animals favorite food. Speck is a soft wood plant with squirrel ear size mushy leaves that didn't taste very good when I tried them but the big game love it. From the top it was a menagerie of game-including my first sighting of sable antelope and giraffe. Blue wildebeest and warthog, zebra and kudu all throughout. At one point Wik could show me eight different kudu bulls. Mixed into that pot pourri of game species was one particular waterbuck bull. Wik showed him to me but explained it had some sort of mishape on its horn. I told him I like those anomalies and the game was afoot. We had to maneuver up the hill and around the bull and try to come down on him from another angle. This was the first real stalk we had tried this trip and it was wonderful and awful at the same time. I am over six feet tall and 215 pounds, Wik has me on height and then we still have my brother and tracker-both Mikes in tow. The speck broom grows tall in places and there were other brush mixed in so we had a chance if we took it slow and careful. Remember we also have at least eight kudu bulls in the salad and they aren't exactly tolerant of stalking type humans. We closed to 350 and left the mikes under a tree to watch. Wik and I continued on and got to 287 yards by my rangefinder. Wik wanted closer but the mountain was against us and one of the kudu was wising up to the commotion. We found a rocky bench to sit on and Wik spread the sticks so I could sit on the rocks and get steady on the sticks. Then we had to wait for the bull to give us a good angle. I watched him feeding for several minutes through my scope as Wik patiently coached me to wait for him to turn. Finally he gave me a pretty fair angle and I told Wik I was going to try it. Pick a spot on the shoulder, breath, breath, breath and hold BOOM! The recoil took me off the sticks and I worked the bolt but could not find the bull again. Wik still had him in his leicas-wobbly legs, shaking his head and down in under 100 yards. Hand shakes to go with my now shaking hands and lots of high praise from Wik. Hes the kind of ph that makes you want to shoot well just to earn his praise. Mike and Mike joined us and we hustled down the hill. Decent blood spoor and in no time Wik has us standing over the big dead bull. The shoot was perfect with a big bullet that actually hit the top of the heart and that bull still covered almost 100 yards and he was relaxed and feeding at the shot. Thats a tough animal for sure.
He was a dark colored bull with a wonderful cape and some good character in his massive long horns. These guys definitely have monster waterbuck! We saw them regularly in the field by the chalet and I have a fun series of pix of two bulls having a heated sparring match. My brother called the waterbuck the African animal that best defined me. I just wish Big Frank my friend had been there to see it and touch that bull at the end of the stalk-he definitely would have appreciated it. I did not recognize any smell to the bull and later her would taste delicious. Certainly a testimonial as to how well the guys take care of the meat!

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Back at it early in the afternoon. Back up on the high canyon rim and Wik needs about 30 seconds to find a big bull waterbuck out in a field, in plain sight feeding unconcerned. We spend a while looking at the myriad of other wildlife before planning a stalk and starting to hike around to get the wind in our favor. I guess a guy could have just driven the truck most of the way and me and Mike were both grateful that we stalked it from the top. We got the wind right then worked our way down a long sloping hill. Cover got more scarce as we got closer and the 40 or so warthogs in the field didn't help our odds much. At one point Wik had me and tracker Mike stay back and the two hunters continued on while I snapped photos of the action. At some point the bull got up and started wandering the other direction. I guess the white bullseye on his rump didn't make a very tempting target and the bull was at 200 yards for my brother before it finally turned broadside. Mike had been on the sticks a long time and was getting achy before the opportunity finally presented itself. At the shot the bull jumped and kicked and started a hard run. He crashed on the ground before regaining his composure and running hard in a half circle about a hundred yards, then crashed and stayed down for good just before he got back into the thick stuff. The shot wasn't perfect but clearly good enough and Mike had a tremendous bull. Later we would get the bullet back. It ended up breaking the far side shoulder and hanging up just under the skin. The force of the impact was enough to bend the shank of the bullet and actually distorted the shape from round to slightly oval. That is some serious energy transfer!
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Best of all for the trackers, there was a road near the bull and we could get the truck right to the bull. This meant we didn't lose time packing the bull out which really meant that I would get to hunt again today!
 

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Looks like a great hunt and thanks for the report! Takes me back to the time I spent there last fall. Good job!
 
I am really enjoying your hunting stories. Looks like some good trophies so
Far. Rifle and bullets are doing a good job. Congrats
Bruce
 
Great looking kudu, nyala and waterbuck!
 
Awesome trophies. Huge waterbuck.
Being a fellow lefty I love the fact you and your brother are both blessed with the same gift. We really are the fortunate 10%.
 
Awesome hunt and some truly excellent trophies!!
 

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