SOUTH AFRICA: First Safari In The Kalahari

[BourbonTrail]

The short of it…

Country: South Africa
Dates: August 14, 2022 – August 19, 2022
Type: DG, PG, Birds
Method of Take: Rifle (416 Rem Mag, Super Express), Shotgun (Browning Citori)
Outfitter: @DE KLERK SAFARIS
PH: Frikkie Nieuwoudt, Yvan de Klerk
Location: Wilzenau Lodge (De Klerk’s Eastern property)
Species Taken: Lioness, Gemsbok, Springbok, Warthog, Sandgrouse
Trophy Quality: I'm not a great judge, but I was impressed
Species Seen: Lion, Cape Buffalo, Springbok, Gemsbok, Impala, Black Wildebeest, Blue Wildebeest, Roan, Sable, Kudu, Eland, Waterbuck, Hartebeest, Zebra, Giraffe, Duiker, Warthog, Steenbok, Jackal, Springhare, Bat Eared Fox, Aardwolf, Porcupine, Horned Adder, various birds and bats. (There were so many animals, of every variety)
Lodging: Comfortable, but not so posh that you feel out of place
Food: Soooo much food, good hearty family food.
Travel Methods: Delta via ATL to Joberg, drive from Joberg to ranch

High Points: Yes
Low Points: Not really, maybe leaving
Things to Improve: Get a teleporter to get from Africa Sky to Property
Overall Rating: 5 Stars
Would Recommend to a Friend? Absolutely, if they are interested in RSA or Namibia hunts.

Sunrise in the Kalahari​

 

[BourbonTrail]

The long of it...

I have always wanted to venture to the Kalahari, so while scrolling amongst the various offers on AH, I spotted a deal from De Klerk Safaris which I just couldn’t resist. I enquired about the offer in March of 2021, and checked references, including some of my own. I booked in April of ‘21 for September 2021 and couldn’t believe that I had finally done it. I had finally booked a trip to hunt in the Kalahari.

Alas, September would come and pass with no trip as I had a false positive Covid test which wrecked my plans (yep, confirmed false positive, but it was too late to alter course).

August 14, 2022 was to be the new start date of my safari. This gave me nearly a year to continue planning, practicing and preparing myself for what would be one of my greatest adventures to date. This time around, I would bring the well-worn 416 Rem Mag that I purchased second hand from the Holland and Holland gun room in Dallas. It is a mid-nineties Super Express with walnut and blued steel that has already taken a buffalo.

Much like the failed attempt in September ’21, this trip had all the trappings of a hectic start to a large excursion: the children were frenzied in their anticipation of my departure, my bags were halfway packed awaiting my attention, and I even needed to make a short pitstop for some padlocks. Finally, the morning of August 12, I was checked in for my economy class tickets to Johannesburg via Atlanta. After a 3-hour layover, I said my goodbyes to the USA and boarded the 16hr Delta 200 flight to Johannesburg. It is always lackluster to cram my 6’5” frame into coach seating, much less for a 16-hour stint, but luckily the flight wasn’t full. In the window seat, opposite the empty middle, was another hunter, from South Carolina, who worked for Jarrett Rifles. We had a great conversation about our planned trips, targeted game, and the firearms manufacturing world.

Across the Atlantic​

I arrived at OR Tambo just after 1700 on August 13th, and although the airport was larger than I realized, it was much as I would have anticipated. The SAPS process, however, was not. After a few minutes of confusion by myself, Willard (Africa Sky), Gilbert (Africa Sky), and the SAPS officers, we got it sorted. As I waited with Willard for Gilbert to return with the truck, I had a good conversation with some of @JKO HUNTING SAFARIS 's clients from Michigan, who were headed to the Kalahari as well. Gilbert returned around 1900, and, after loading up, we were off to Africa Sky.

Now, I should note, that I had plans for my first evening in Johannesburg, and the SAPS boondoggle threw a bit of a wrench into them. I was to meet Frikkie Nieuwoudt, my PH, and @Frederik for drinks and dinner. However, I was nearly 1 ½ hours late, and with no WhatsApp connection to notify them, I worried if the meeting would never happen. Luckily, Frikkie was directly behind Gilbert pulling up to the gate, and Frederik was patiently waiting inside the bar, the pair of them texting each-other about my whereabouts. I recognized Frikkie from pictures I had seen, and he just assumed who I was. After a quick check in, I sat with Frikkie and Frederik to tell yarns over a few beers. It felt good to finally pause my travel and meet a fellow AH member. After beers and goodbyes were done, we parted ways. Frederik headed back home for a week of work while Frikkie and I were off to De Klerk Safaris for a week in the sand and scrub.

A Welcome Oasis​

 

[BourbonTrail]

It’s a long 7-hour drive from Johannesburg to the De Klerk ranch near the small town of Bray on the Botswana border. We passed by Potchefstroom, through to Klerksdorp where I grabbed a phone cable to replace the one I had left on the plane. We had lunch at a Western US themed restaurant called Spur’s for lunch in Vryburg. Afterwards, we headed North through the Kalahari finally reaching the long stretch of unpaved roads that lead to the ranch. This area is home to several game and cattle ranches, and I finally caught glimpses of animals I had only seen on the internet such as Sable, Kudu, Blesbok, and Impalas. Frikkie pointed out some undulating tire tracks in the road that belonged to the ubiquitous “Kalahari Ferrari” or donkey cart that can be seen in the region.

Spoor of the "Kalahari Ferrari"
​

Around 1700 we arrived at the rosy sand red gates of ranch. As we got out to stretch and open the pad locked steel gates, Frikkie mentioned rather unceremoniously that we should check for lions in the vicinity before opening the heavy wrought iron bars as they love to frequent the area. Wait, what? After a quick look and selfie opportunity at the “De Klerk Safaris” signage, we proceeded down the road to the camp. As we entered, I was shocked by the sheer quantity of game. Duikers, steenbok, impalas, warthogs, kudu, impalas, and springbok all abounded in the short ½ mile to the camp. It was a “paradise in the Kalahari” as Marie De Klerk once so poignantly put it. It was everything I had hoped it would be.

Selfie at the Gates​

After we arrived at camp, Frikkie and I took our things inside and grabbed some bottles of water. Dinner wasn’t ready yet, so Frikkie suggested that we should go for a quick drive around so I could get a feel for the place. Off we went, Frikkie, the tour guide, and myself, the quintessential eco tourist, camera in hand to see what we could find. After a little bit of a drive, we made it to a water tank, as they are known in Arizona, where a small herd of about 20 buffalo were milling about. They were quite unamused by our presence, and much larger and more intimidating that I had pictured in my mind. I quietly rolled up the window of the Prado when a large herd bull approached curiously, and that was a mistake. No, we weren’t charged. Worse, I had showed a small moment of cowardice, and my ever-watchful PH took notice.
“Why did you roll up the window?”
I was at a loss.
“They won’t hurt you…Just reach out and give him a scratch,” Frikkie joked.
That conversation would be the joke of the week that would develop with each day as a way to build back my confidence and remind me to be humble.

"They're harmless... except that bastard right there."​

 

[Frederik]

Keep em coming love the short bits it was nice to finally meet you after that first cancelation on the trip with covid.

 

[BourbonTrail]

That night my sleep was broken and exhausting. At 0345, I woke up with a massive migraine, and I knew that I wouldn’t be of any use that day if I did not remedy the situation, quickly. I clamored for my bottle of ibuprofen and the bottle of water at my nightstand. After finally keeping down the medication, I had enough relief to rouse a clear thought from the abyss to remember the health benefits of a hot shower. The steaming sauna that I managed was just the ticket to relax my neck muscles and clear my sinuses enough to go back to bead for a bit more uneasy sleep. It was 0530.

Sunrise came early that first day​

I awoke at 0730, the time I had agreed the previous day to meet my PH for breakfast. At 0740 I crossed the courtyard sloppily dressed: no belt, no knife, no rifle, and camp shoes adorning my feet. Frikkie gave me a warm good morning and asked me how I slept. He was quite ready to get the show on the road. I explained my rough night, and he suggested we take it easy after offering me some toast and tea. Later it would prove that we have different definitions of easy.

After breakfast, we went straight to sighting in rifles. With my still gnawing headache and uneasy stomach, I grabbed my rifle and proceeded to my execution. The idea of shooting a 416 off the bench with a migraine in the crisp cold of the Kalahari winter sunrise is almost the last way I wanted to sight in that morning or any morning. Anyone with sense can predict what would happen next: I would be eating a slice of humble pie with my breakfast. Right off the bat Frikkie requested that I shoot the 100-yard target on the range. 100 yards. I had never shot this rifle to that distance, but how much different is 100 from the 85 I had shot to previously at home? First round was more than 6 inches low.

“Have you shot this gun before?”
“Yes,” I retorted incredulously.
2nd round, 4 inches left. 3rd shot, low again.
“Let’s try 50 yards.”

I felt embarrassment and relief. First and second rounds are touching, 4 inches low, and dead center.

“Ok, let’s adjust your scope.” After some debate, we adjusted, and tried another shot. 1 inch high. “OK. Let’s have you try my 300 at 100 yards again.” Although I wanted to regain my honor with the 416 at the 100-yard mark, I did as I was told. 1 in high and right.

“Close enough, let’s go.”
“Huh?” I thought to myself.

Chris, the tracker, grabbed my shells, and Frikkie added electrical tape to my barrel to save the bluing. “Ok, ready? Let’s go.”

Wait, I didn’t have my stuff. I tried to eke out a protest, but they were already busy loading up. Into the bakkie I went. Now, I knew that today we would not be actively pursuing lion. Hans and Marie were away until Monday night with another client in the Kgalagadi trans-frontier park. South African law requires 2 PH’s for lion, so my date with the ole girl would have to wait. This day would just be driving looking for tracks and looking for my short list of plains game. However, I still felt unprepared and underdressed. I had a rifle with 3 rounds, city shoes, and nothing else that I had told myself I needed.

Sightseeing in the bakkie​

In retrospect, Frikkie knew what was going on, and in his 20+ years as a PH he learned what to look for in firearms handling, etc. He also knew that fresh air would clear the jet lag faster than sitting around the boma nursing tea. His wisdom and intuition would become obvious as the week continued.

 

[shootist~]

Great start!

 

[BourbonTrail]

As we puttered down the cut lines in the Land Cruiser, my eyes strained to adjust to seeing game in the veld or the tracks in the sand. Frikkie called them out faster than my brain could register, “Impala” “Kudu” “Zebra” “Gemsbok” “Springbok” “Hyena tracks” “Ostrich tracks” etc. A couple of hours into our drive, the truck stopped, Frikkie had spotted some lion tracks. We climbed out and he gave them a look over. “Male or female?” I asked. “Male,” he replied. After a brief back and forth with Chris in Afrikaans, Frikkie pointed out that they were 1-2 days old. Back in the bakkie.

Old Lion Tracks in the Sand​

We continued to bobble along until Frikkie spotted some drag marks in the sand from what would turn out to be a freshly killed springbok being dragged to a nearby tree by a predator. I heard the Afrikaans for leopard, and my ears perked up. Frikkie was joking, per usual. However, it was apparent that from the kill this was most certainly of felid doing. We walked the drag marks for 10-15 minutes looking for signs of the killer’s identity. Finally, after a confounding few minutes, the eagle-eyed Chris spotted the lone track of a caracal in the path of the drag. Frikkie radioed Dries, Hans' neighbor, with the news. Dries requested that we cover it up and mark the trail so he could come by later and setup a trap. I asked about the price to hunt caracal as an alternative means of control, but it was out of my budget for this trip.

Drag marks from a fresh kill

Fresh Caracal Kill​

We continued on our way until lunch. Frikkie showed me the sight of an earlier lion kill involving a warthog hole that look as though it had been swept clean by the lion on our way back to camp.

 

[BourbonTrail]

To be continued...

 

[Tra3]

Keep it coming!

 

[LivingTheDream]

Been waiting for this report for a while!

 

[Jörg Krüger]

Great start. Waiting in anticipation for the rest.

 

[Frederik]

Take it your migraine cleared to get the idea of maybe hunting the Caracal/Rooikat.

 

[VertigoBE]

This is a great start @BourbonTrail ! Can’t wait to hear more!

 

[Kevin Peacocke]

Good write up and writing, longing for more. That Kalahari sand veld looks so inviting.

 

[Frederik]

Good write up and writing, longing for more. That Kalahari sand veld looks so inviting.

Kevin, come and enjoy the Kalahari and shoot some phenomal trophies you wont be dissapointed.
I'm going back there December for a few days.

 

[kdenn]

Excellent report. Really enjoying it.

 

[BourbonTrail]

Take it your migraine cleared to get the idea of maybe hunting the Caracal/Rooikat.

I was very much considering skipping my plains game for a chance at a Caracal. Now, I have a reason to go back!

 

[Shootist43]

Bourbon trail, this sounds like the beginnings of a great hunt. Please don't keep us waiting too long!!

 

[PARA45]

OK young man, you've been teasing us enough, time to get on it and start typing.

 

[BourbonTrail]

I’m at work, but I’ll get the next several installments when I get back to the house.