Hunting blue wildebeest was a riot. Getting in range was fine, finding the biggest bull went fine, but then the circus began. They never stopped moving. Clear shot. NO! Not clear, cow behind him. There they go! Oops! Here they come back! Where did he go? Here he is. Shooting. Stop! He just threw himself in the dirt for a bath! On and on..! I had so much fun and was smiling so hard my face hurt at dinner.
I love them all. I’ll always hunt a kudu and waterbuck, but the amount of and combination of fun/frustration made blues special for me. I’d be satisfied to be held just to them for life if I were forced. Plus I just love that blue brindled hide. It was so sleek. And the face ruff from his boss to nose was so soft. I’d never known until I took my first.
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