Kudu Hunting Story

Jacques.strauss

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Hi Everyone!

I just had to tell you a quick story about a Kudu hunt my dad did in 2003 with a Bow Hunting client from Reunion Island, France.

Well, as my dad told me: The safari went on great, the client shot some beautiful Warthog, Blesbuck, Springbuck and even a good steenbuck. My dad then decided to just head to a good Kudu watrhole close to a mountain to hopefully find an exeptional Kudu. Long story short, a HUGE Kudu bull came walking in with some cows..... and eventually presented a shot. By that time the client was so nervous as he was getting ready for the shot. He missed completely!!! Then the whole herd scattered in confusion of what happened. After about 20min the herd came walking back. So the client bagged the Kudu on the second shot.... (Which after the hunt, they measured the bull at 59 inches.... which to date is the #6 Bow Hunted Kudu in Namibia) To me it was a great story.

Do you have any intresting stories??? Or weird things that happened while bow hunting?

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Well this story is not about me but I get a chuckle out of it every time I think about it.

An outfitter that I worked for had just purchased his own area in northern BC. He was scouting prior to his first season there and while coming down exhausted after a long day of climbing he came across a huge shed moose antler. While admiring the obvious high Boone and Crockett trophy and wondering if he could find its owner for one of his hunters a strange thought popped into his head. If he sat in the antler and controlled his speed with his feet he could easily slide right down the mountain back to the horses. This worked well for awhile, 50 feet or so to be precise, and then it become clear that the brakes didnt work all that well. the Moose antler kept picking up speed with him held hostage by his fear of bailing off. Eventually he reached the speed where the stars go shooting past you or as close to it as he ever wanted to get, especially while riding a Moose antler. Abouth this time he had descended nearly to timber line and he had to make a quick decision, as he rocketed past some stunted alpine spruce he deduced that if he grabbed a tree he could pull himself off of the Moose horn and the carefully make his way back to the horses then never speak of the event again. Mustering up his courage, he grabbed the first tree he could reach and sure enough it pulled him off of the Moose horn, unfortuantely it also pulled the tree out of the mountaiside, roots and all. Hugging the tree with a death grip he cartwheeled and slid down through the shin tangle and shale removing all but a few small patches of skin from his face and hands not to mention bruising him from head to toe. Wounded equally of mind and body he made the 5 hour ride back to camp where his wife met him. Scratched scraped and bruised he could not get out of telling the story and she has not let him live it down since!
 
That gave me a good chuckle too.... Good story. Thank you for that.
 
Jaques, good story, while the one I'm posting is a rifle one I as well as Brett found it funny a couple of years after the fact.
In 2002 I was hunting for my cousin (Amanita safaris) with Brett (won't post the last name) and on day 4 of the safari we were lucky enough to connect with a 58" narrow horned Kudu, needless to say the rest of the hunt was a breeze after taking such a magnificent specimen.

In 2003 Brett returned with an additional list of plains game and the wish to harvest a wide horned bull (as wide as we could possibly get....) but with the idea that it had to crack 54" our 10 day safari started slow with us hunting various Kudu properties in excess of 10 000 acres, until the faitfull day we hunted on an Australian Landowners property close to "oppikopie" (rock fesitval) a short drive from Rustenburg/Northam.

We had heard rumors of a bull that was on the area which the landowner had been monitoring for many years.... he even gave it a name ....... FLIGHT!!!! Needless to say connecting or rather locating this particular bull on a large mountanous area sounded allot easier than what it turned out to be after a couple of days we finally spotted flight in a valley.... range 400+ yards....

A seriously long stalk roughly 5 hours started with flight fleeing multiple times but with hard work from both me as well as joe as well as Brett we finally came within range at about 5:00 pm.

I quickly set up the sticks........ and yet Brett was not in any kind of a hurry to set the rifle down, ...... i prompted him several times with no response or action from him..... As I looked to my right in complete desperation to see what Brett was up to he looked at me and said................

Well Jaco I do not believe that that bull is that big, my first reply came pretty quick ......WTF!!!!!! I promted again and received the same reply........

We were running out of options on this bull as well as daylight, as he had spotted us by this time and started his way back up towards the valley where he came from....In pure frustration I took the stick folded them back turned around and started down the mountain........ I think in astinishment more than anything else Brett followed with Jaco what are you doing, my reply was short but honest..... "Brett you are wasting my time do you want to shoot that bull or not!"
Brett replied well if you put it like that.... and free handed a 180 yard shot hitting the bull square on the shoulder which was without a doubt entertained by our side show!

The bull went 85 yards and went down..... still a doubting Thomas, Brett aproached the bull with caution but as soon as he laid his hands on it he knew!!!

It measured 56" on the one and 55 4/8's on the other and was an amazing 52" wide!!!!!!!!!!

I have since taken bigger but this one for some reason still stays in my mind every time I hunt for Kudu.
Struggling to attach picture go to my photo's you cant miss it!

My best always.
 
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The best story I have heard about Kudu hunting was told to me by my BIL. He has rifle hunted several times in Africa over the last 10 to 15 years and was offered a Kudu bull by a farmer freind of his PH if he would come and eradicate quiet a few of the porcupines that were tearing up his potato patch. My BIL kindly agreed as he loved to shoot whatever presented itself and he and his PH did the farmer a huge favor by killing a lot of the critters tearing up his potato patch. The farmer then gave my BIL and the PH the hangouts of the big Kudu and my BIL was fortunate enough to find him and kill him. 62" is what he taped out as. Not bad for a "trade hunt".
 
The best story I have heard about Kudu hunting was told to me by my BIL. He has rifle hunted several times in Africa over the last 10 to 15 years and was offered a Kudu bull by a farmer freind of his PH if he would come and eradicate quiet a few of the porcupines that were tearing up his potato patch. My BIL kindly agreed as he loved to shoot whatever presented itself and he and his PH did the farmer a huge favor by killing a lot of the critters tearing up his potato patch. The farmer then gave my BIL and the PH the hangouts of the big Kudu and my BIL was fortunate enough to find him and kill him. 62" is what he taped out as. Not bad for a "trade hunt".

LOL that reminded me about a weird "hunt" I had years ago. I was in college at the time and had no idea where to hunt and no permission so after a couple evenings of driving around 'shopping' I had my area picked out and started to ask permission from area landowners. I pulled up to an older house (read - shack) and was greeted by the owner at my truck window. We chatted a bit and finally the conversation turned to permission. he informed me that he did not allow hunters then as he turned away he noticed the shotgun in the back seat and turned back to me.
He relayed the story that he had just bought the place and the previous owners had been crazy cat people. There were literally hundreds of cats living on the property and he was having fits with them getting in the house and generally spraying and scratching everything in sight, the place reeked of cat! He told me if I shot some cats for him he would allow me to hunt.
The cats lived mainly in the many brushpiles on the edge of the yard site. I loaded up the shotgun and threw a few extras in my pocket expecting to shoot a couple cats then get down to the serious matter of hunting elk. The landowner climbed up on the first brushpiule and started jumping up and down, cats came bursting out and I took 3, reloaded and got another 2. Out of shells on the first brushpile with cats still bursting out I went back to the truck and grabbed 3 boxes of shells, all I had. We went from brushpile to brushpile with my 'gun dog' flushing cats to me until all the shells were spent. I dont know how many cats we killed that day but he was certainly happy and I was allowed to hunt. Each time I would come to hunt he would be waiting with a box of shells and by the end of hunting season there were very few cats left and I had exclusive rights to 320 prime acres for my 'trouble'!
 
Jaco, you wouldnt have to tell me to shoot twice!!! great bull.
 
.....
He relayed the story that he had just bought the place and the previous owners had been crazy cat people. There were literally hundreds of cats living on the property and he was having fits with them getting in the house and generally spraying and scratching everything in sight, the place reeked of cat! He told me if I shot some cats for him he would allow me to hunt.
.....

Did you mount any for him? :)

Interesting access fee.
 
This one takes the cake for me. Just cracks me up. I can imagine the scene in my mind.


LOL that reminded me about a weird "hunt" I had years ago. I was in college at the time and had no idea where to hunt and no permission so after a couple evenings of driving around 'shopping' I had my area picked out and started to ask permission from area landowners. I pulled up to an older house (read - shack) and was greeted by the owner at my truck window. We chatted a bit and finally the conversation turned to permission. he informed me that he did not allow hunters then as he turned away he noticed the shotgun in the back seat and turned back to me.
He relayed the story that he had just bought the place and the previous owners had been crazy cat people. There were literally hundreds of cats living on the property and he was having fits with them getting in the house and generally spraying and scratching everything in sight, the place reeked of cat! He told me if I shot some cats for him he would allow me to hunt.
The cats lived mainly in the many brushpiles on the edge of the yard site. I loaded up the shotgun and threw a few extras in my pocket expecting to shoot a couple cats then get down to the serious matter of hunting elk. The landowner climbed up on the first brushpiule and started jumping up and down, cats came bursting out and I took 3, reloaded and got another 2. Out of shells on the first brushpile with cats still bursting out I went back to the truck and grabbed 3 boxes of shells, all I had. We went from brushpile to brushpile with my 'gun dog' flushing cats to me until all the shells were spent. I dont know how many cats we killed that day but he was certainly happy and I was allowed to hunt. Each time I would come to hunt he would be waiting with a box of shells and by the end of hunting season there were very few cats left and I had exclusive rights to 320 prime acres for my 'trouble'!
 
It's hard to compete with sledding moose antlers and cat eradication but I have a couple that might earn a smile.


1. Impala Wrestling 101

I was bowhunting in Northern South Africa with site sponsor Spiral Horn Safaris. We had a nice impala ram come in and I took the shot at about 24 yards. The arrow was a bit far forward, striking the shoulder bone and getting little penetration (insert thought - DON'T USE RAGE IN AFRICA). The blood trailing began in earnest. Little blood to go on but we were going to find it! Two trackers, two PH's, me and the outfitters finance'.

After about an hour of tracking the parties split. I went with the fiance' (Corinne) and a tracker on a less likely trail while the other guys followed the "direction of travel" with a rifle. Long story longer, my little pod finally comes upon the very much alive impala. Like an idiot, I've dropped my "heavy" quiver by the nearest bush road and i've got my bow and one arrow. The tracker turns to me and points at the bedded impala about 25 yards in front of us in a tangled bunch of bushes. Corinne is coming up and says quietly "he sees it, shoot".

Not having any shot but a neck shot, I focus and settle the pin. At the release the arrow hits true, straight into the neck....but the impala jumps up and starts off! Here is where it gets good.

The tracker starts running after the impala with the arrow in it's neck and catches it by the horns!! He wrestles it down and pulls my arrow out, hands it to me with the look of "are you going to shoot again"? Of course he can't speak english and I can't speak Afrikaans. Needless to say, He bulldogged the neck around and finished the job without a 1 yard shot being required! I just had to give him credit for running after and grabbing an impala ram. That is what we call second effort!!

Here he is carrying the impala out. Really a memory I will not soon forget!

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I don't know Tom, although not a Kudu story. That tracker is a maniacal hero.


Where is the video. You could have gone Youtube Viral on that one. :)

I won't soon forget that one.
 
I hope you tipped him well!!! LOL
 
2. Baboon - dead or alive?

This was several years ago but a sorta funny story. I was in the Tuli block of Botswana with Wild Game Safaris. It had been a great plains game bowhunt but I really wanted a baboon. They had given us the slip several times and were very smart. Finally, we were stationed at a waterhole in a little blind. At the very edge of the waterhole a medium sized baboon sentry came in to drink. He ducked down a little as I drew my bow. The shot was 32 yards. I got excited.

Upon release of the arrow i knew it wasn't quite right. With a loud "Crack!" i saw the arrow hit in the side of his skull, low down by the jaw. He immediately takes off running through the brush looking like a comedy routine with the damn arrow sticking out the side of his head. Not kidding.

After waiting 30 minutes my PH and I get out of the blind. As you can imagine, there is very little blood in the sand and the tracks are not extremely visible.

Enter the "appy" PH. He had been chomping at the bit to do some work so my PH handed him the .300 and told him to go "find the baboon". At this point I felt really low as I knew I'd injured an animal without a high probability of recovery.

The appy takes the truck down the road a kilometer or so, walks back to the area and starts tracking. My PH and I have settled back in the blind and see him take up the spoor. After about an hour we hear "BOOM"...."BOOM" of the rifle. Fifteen minutes later here comes the appy PH dragging the baboon. I had to know what happened. Here is what he said:

"I was stalking along and could tell I was getting close as I was hearing baboons running and making noise. As I rounded a little bend I looked over and saw the baboon leaning up against the base of a tree. I settled the scope and shot but missed. I racked another round and shot again...this time hitting him in the chest. As I walked up to him i realized that he had been leaning against the tree dead. The first shot hit the trunk above him and the second hit the chest of an already dead baboon with an arrow sticking out of his head".

We all busted out laughing! Apparently the arrow had caused significant head bleeding and the baboon died leaning against the tree!

The final bit of funny came when the trackers/skinners (two guys) were called in to help take the animal back to camp. They arrived in the rough cruiser and parked next to us as we admired the baboon. As they exited the truck my PH had told me that we were going to have some fun and to draw and let down my bow while they approached, pretending I was aiming at the dead baboon.

These two nice skinners come up and ask if everything is ok. The PH responds back in Afrikaans to go ahead and grab the baboon, it had just died. As the lead guy reached down to grab the back of the neck the PH made a big "WHOOOFFF" noise, like a big dog barking. The tracker turned a charcoal white and jumped back like he had been shot. Funny as hell and quite an ordeal for a baboon who died many lives!

Here is the baboon:

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Maybe I should have opened another thread. Didn't mean to hijack this one....
 
Maybe I should have opened another thread. Didn't mean to hijack this one....

I don't think you hijacked the thread. After all Jacques ask: Do you have any interesting stories??? Or weird things that happened while bow hunting? Good stories Tom,fun to read.

I have the sequel to your Impala wrestling 101 - I'll call it "Antelope wrestling 102"

I was on my first archery pronghorn antelope hunt on a ranch near Gillette Wyoming. A successful hunt as I managed to bag a nice mature ram. Back at camp one of the other hunters returned and announced that he too had shot an antelope, but the animal wasn't dead yet. The two young ranch hands (insert cowboys) exclaimed "let's go get him." The two cowboys, the hunter and myself jumped into the pick-up with three of us in the front and one cowboy in the pickup bed. I figured we were going to plan out a stalk to finished him off. Seems the cowboys had other plans. As we approached the waterhole blind the hunter pointed out the wounded antelope on the flat. Quick as can be the cowboys jumped into action. I never thought that old pickup could reach that kind of speed bouncing across the sage flat in hot pursuit of that antelope. As they managed to get the truck up alongside him, the cowboy in the bed jumped out on top of the ram. We had to be going 40+ MPH. He had grabbed the ram by the horns. Now that ram had enough strength to throw that cowboy around even lifting him off his feet several times. By that time the other cowboy managed to stop the truck run over to his buddy, then get his pocketknife out to cut the poor animals throat, finishing him off. All this time the hunter and I sat in the truck in astonishment watching this debacle unfold. Quite unorthodox..then again I guess they did recover a wounded animal. I wound classify this experience as weird.
 
Thank you for all the replies! This makes for a really good read..... really fun!!!:)
 

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