I made my second trip to Africa in June (already had my third trip last month). Just wanted to share my experience with Lion, Rhino, and plains game with BoschNel Safaris.
Write up below, but here are the videos too:
The first trip cemented the Africa bug so it wasn’t long before I booked this second trip. This time my wife, Jessica, joined me to experience the beauty of Africa. I was excited for her - hoping she would love the adventure as much as I did my first time to the dark continent.
Oddly, it didn’t take much to convince Jess to go after a lion with me; she had seen photos of hunters posing with the beautiful big cats and said she wanted a picture like that - we could make that happen. Just like that, we had another trip planned for 18 months out.
Much of that time was spent working on loads for the double rifle; finding a combination of bullets and powder that regulated well and were suitable for the large cat. Anything to prepare for the trip and try to get those 18 months to pass quicker.
My first trip had been extremely successful, it was not an average safari - something I kept reminding myself to set the expectations for the second trip.
Day 1:
Our first full day in Africa was spent in the truck, driving from Johannesburg to the Kalahari to soon search for a lion. A long day in the vehicle offered us an opportunity to get to know Richter and Janike; both I knew of from the group chats but had yet to hunt with. Overall the day was long and the anticipation was high for the coming days.
Day 2-3:
With a 450-400 Nitro Express double in hand, we set off into the Kalahari to track a lion in the tall grass (emphasis on tall).
The first few hours were spent searching for a fresh track in the sand; once found, the size made it clear - it was a large male lion. We started to drive the connecting roads to form a grid pattern, narrowing down where the cat was hiding. Once the block was identified, we disembarked from the vehicle to pursue by foot. Our trackers (Peit and Sylvester) lead the way, the PH (Richter) and myself just an arms length behind, Jess bravely holding the rear with Janike.
Watching the trackers follow these faint tracks through a combination of sand, grass, and mixed vegetation was impressive to say the least. As we worked through the block, we received a call over the radio that the lion had stepped onto the dirt road behind the truck and headed to a new location. We quickly worked our way back to the road and toward the next block of thick vegitation. The cat appeared for a moment, I raised the rifle and aimed for the chest. He was looking at me and I at him, but the shot didn’t feel right - in a few seconds the moment had passed when the cat disappeared into the brush. We quickly grouped and got back on the trail.
Throughout the day, the big cat stayed ahead of us - thanks to the early season rain, the grass was much taller than anticipated. In many places it was waist high, with one area being head high - not the most comforting thing when a lion can disappear in knee high grass.
We followed on his heals for over 6.5 miles that day; with our only visual being a fleeting glimpse of him briskly walking through an open area (quickly gaining distance from us). The sighting kicked us into high gear and sent us back in the tall grass as the sun started to set. It was a surreal feeling to follow the tracks in the fading light in the shoulder height grass; keeping our heads on a swivel.
The first night ended without another encounter; what would be in store for day two?
We gathered for dinner and talked about the plan for the next day. We were confident the lion was tired from the heavy pursuit and we would be able to make a stand in the morning. It was a great plan, until the next morning when we found fresh tracks indicating the lion had walked and hunted through the night. This cat was an athlete and clearing not tiring out soon.
We spent time following the tracks in the road to determine where he was; they went on and on before leading back to where we found him the first morning.
While working the track, we could see where he started to run and quickly turn - a clear indication he had been hunting recently - not the tired cat we thought we would find.
The second morning mirrored the first, pushing the track to try to find the lion but him staying ahead just enough to remain out of view. We knew any shot opportunity was going to be quick.
We jumped back in the truck to circle the new blocks the tracks entered; he had already gained a large lead on us and tracking the tall grass was going slower than the cat’s casual stride.
As we made a large circle of the area, the lion appeared in the bushes - standing broadside and trying to get a look at these things following him. This was our short window to get a shot in a burst of chaos - trying to grab the rifle, load the two rounds, and dismount the back of the truck. I took a quick shot while still only half out of the vehicle - one leg up, one down.
The lion dropped, was he down for good or just stunned? I quickly replaced the empty cartridge with a fresh one and we (Richter and I) quickly cut the distance to a few yards. Two shots to the chest were the final touches to end the pursuit of this majestic creature. A beautiful old lion, the fulfillment of a childhood dream, and a shared adventure with my wife.
The end of day 3 was spent driving to the Northern Cape to start our next adventure.
Day 4:
Today we would venture out to find a white rhino.
Much like the lion, it did not require much convincing to get Jess onboard - a simple “do you want a picture with a rhino” was enough.
I may have failed to emphasize that going after the second largest land animal with nothing more than a vita-dart could lead to a much sketchier situation than going after a lion with a double rifle. We were both certain this was a good addition to the trip…
After much anticipation, the day came to pursue the rhino. We arrived to the property in the morning and walked through the plan and operation of the dart gun. A few quick practice shots from 30 to 60 yards had us ready to start the search for a rhino.
We drove to a small hill, the short hike up would provide a vantage point to glass for the large animals - they can hide easier than most would believe. Three were spotted, with one being a lone male that we thought we could stalk into position on.
We started working toward the rhino, the veterinarian and I in front with Brendan and Jessica in back. Jess and Brendan stayed back for the final stalk.
Slow is smooth, smooth ended up being fast. We stalked to roughly 40 yards, then I raised up on my knees to make the shot. The dart hit as intended, just behind the ear.
With the first stalk successful and the shot placed correctly, I earned the nickname “anti-climatic Brian” when it came to the Big 5.
As the rhino jogged away, we deployed a drone to track the bull and raced back to the truck to get to the rhino while the dose started to take effect.
A short African rodeo ensued as an additional dose was administered and we guided the giant to a soft resting place. Guiding a rhino is like guiding a large truck - push all you want, it’s going wherever it wants too.
Once safely down, the vet checked the vitals, scanned for microchips, and took research data - then a few photos for Jess and myself before administering the reversal. As quickly as it started, it was now over and the rhino was headed back to cover. Truly amazing to be part of a conservation effort of this creature; an experience that felt like stepping into the real life version of Jurassic Park.
The rhino experience had gone so smoothly that we had time to spare. To make use of the time, I borrowed a rifle (mine was back at the lodge as we didn’t bring it to the rhino property). After a quick trip to the range to test fire the loaner, we went out in search of lechwe - the top plains game animal on my list.
This place was a honey hole for lechwe, and it wasn’t long before we found rams. The first had great length and width but was just too young. A second was mature but not as long so we decided to pass.
Several more rams and ewes were spotted before we found a mature ram fitting the criteria we were looking for. We grabbed the sticks and started the short stalk, everything was going smoothly. I settled on the sticks, flipped the safety forward, and squeezed the trigger… nothing happened. Quickly checking the rifle, it was now in position two of a three position safety - a quick fix and back on the sticks. Again squeezing the trigger, but this time the shot rang out and the ram dropped.
The beautiful lechwe was now mine and headed for the salt.
Day 5:
With a long list of target animals, we set out to see what we could find. It wasn’t long before Brendan spotted a lone springbok bedded near a tree. We made a short stalk to get close enough to determine he was mature; then set up the sticks. The shot hit true and another beautiful animal was down.
We quickly approached to watch the back hair rise, a unique thing that happens when a springbok expires. We then ran our fingers through the fur and bent down to take a sniff - it has a sweet smell, much like cotton candy.
After a short drive to the skinning shed, we were back in search of more animals. We hadn’t made it very far when we came across a group of ostriches - something that I had the desire to take if the opportunity arose. A quick shot and the large male ran out of sight; he had made a small circle before quickly collapsing.
With the bird down, we took a bit of time to admire the dinosaur like features of the animal. The large flightless bird, with his prehistory feet, is a very interesting species.
We dropped him at the skinning shed and took a short break for the morning.
As evening approached we set out to see what else we could find. After passing a blesbok and watching some giraffes, we found ourselves heading back to the lodge to wrap up the day. Before we could get there, a large lone bull gemsbok was spotted in a small clearing in the brush. We ranged him at 274 yards; we was quartering toward us so I settled the crosshairs on his chest and squeezed. The bullet impacted hard and he dropped out of sight. The bushes around him erupted with other gemsbok; he was not a lone bull after all.
With the other animals gone, we sent Janike out to mark the spot to recover the bull. As she approached, the gemsbok jumped up and disappeared back into the heavy cover. We quickly went in to find him as the light was fading fast.
The first shot was vital but the gemsbok didn’t seem to know that; he jump up to run several times. In the end, we were able to stop the bull and give him the admiration he deserved. Placing hands on such a beautiful animal is a surreal feeling - a time to express gratitude and show respect.
Far from any road and the light now gone; we sent for additional help to pack this out and get to the skinning shed.
Day 6:
With no roan left on quota at base camp, we headed to a neighboring property to search for a worthy bull. The morning drive found giraffe on the other side of a canyon and a group of red hartebeest (with an impressive ram) but no roan were spotted.
We retuned in the evening to find animals more active; coming across gemsbok, kudu, impala, then two roan bulls appeared. The two were not going to stop so a quick shot was placed into the leading bull on the move; he dropped. Another shot to help him expire quickly.
As we walked up, he continued to grow - this was a giant roan, stretching the tape beyond anything I had hoped for.
Day 7:
I had a lifelong desire to find a caracal and the best way was to try to tree one with dogs. Brendan and I discussed the low odds in general, now combined with the extra complication of Sheldon wearing a leg brace for an injured knee and knowing this group of dogs had never pursued a cat. Regardless of the low odds, we were aligned with the notion that “all we can do is try”.
We split into two groups; Jess and I went with Richter and Janike in search of blesbok (a surprisingly elusive animal), while Brendan and Sheldon took the dogs in search of cat tracks.
As the morning went on, we came across a few blesbok but were unable to find a male we could go after. We started to stalk a springbok to try to get Jess in a position to take her first animal - half way into the stalk we received a call from Brendon. Against all odds, the call was to say a cat was treed - a mad rush ensued, sprinting back to the truck, then racing down the dirt road. No sooner than the truck came to a stop, I was already jumping out the back to run to the tree. A cat in a tree is the equivalent feeling a 10-year old has waking up on Christmas morning. With a dumb grin ear to ear, I ran under the tree to grab the shotgun from Brendon - I hadn’t paused long enough to actually assess the tree to see where the cat was. With shotgun now in hand, I spun around to see the cat above me and quickly lined up the shot. Click… it was a light primer strike on the top barrel. Quickly switching to the bottom barrel and going through the motion again, the pellets hit and the cat dropped to the ground. A second try of the top barrel set off the primer for a follow up shot.
All these actions were compressed into no more than a single minute. All team members looking at each other with an expression showing disbelief and excitement of what just took place.
Any caracal is a trophy, these impressive and elusive animals are not easy to come by - it only took one glance to realize this particular tom was a true giant of the species, no average cat. His giant head and torn ears gave indication of a long life of hunting and fighting.
Day 8:
We headed to a new neighboring property to look for a black wildebeest. We needed to pass through a small mountain area to get to the plains the wildebeest like. While we were admiring the scenic views, Brendan spotted a group of mountain reedbuck at the top of the mountain. A very nice ram and four ewes. Mountain reedbuck are not common in the Northern Cape, so it was a rare opportunity.
Brendan assessed the animal to verify it was mature and I aligned for a steep upward shot. With the excitement, I squeezed the trigger shortly after he confirmed it was mature, not pausing long enough to allow Brendan to turn on the camera. The ram dropped where he stood and officially became the first mountain reedbuck ever taken on the property.
A short but steep climb brought us to the animal. Up close the deep curl of the horn showed more length than initially thought, it was a very nice ram. Brendon descended the mountain with the reedbuck over his shoulders and we continued on in search of the black wildebeest.
We rounded a corner and saw an impala ram behind a tree. The tree blocked his horns, only becoming visible as he walked away - a very long, heavy horned ram. We caught back up to him and got Jess on the rifle - an impala is an iconic first animal to take for an African hunter and this one would make most veteran hunters jealous. She lined up her shot and squeezed the trigger; the impala dropped. Jess was now a successful huntress - for me, it was a very proud moment, mixed with a slight fear that she might become hooked and split my hunting budget in half…
We hadn’t made it to the plains, but had already had a very successful morning.
As the landscape opened, we could see a group of black wildebeest far out in the open. These clowns of the plains do not stop moving, they run and buck like a hyper child after a lot of candy. They would cut across a large area and the quickly shift and run back the other way. A large bull was in the front (then quickly in the rear when they changed directions). He briefly stoped at 432 yards to allow for the shot, the bullet hit the mark and the bull was quickly down.
This wrapped up a phenomenal morning. The saying “take was Africa gives you,” this day Africa was in a very giving mood.
In the evening, we headed out in search of Hartman zebra, a mountain animal much more elusive than the plains species.
On the way out, a group of blesbok ran past - the same group who evaded us each day prior. A ram stopped in the thick brush with his horns and back visible; I took the shot and he dropped. This was a rare saddleback coloring, a highly prized variation of the common blesbok. We took our photos and brought him to the skinning shed before continuing on in search of the zebra.
We were looking for an old mare, needing to avoid stallions and pregnant mares. The first sighting was a stallion and mare at the top a mountain. The mare was old, but the rocks and vegetation hid too much of her body to confirm she was okay to take. We went up the mountain to get a better look but they were gone by the time we circled back to where they had been.
Back down the mountain, we jumped back in the truck to try to find more - the sun was already setting so we only had a short window to get it done.
A group was spotted on the move in a lower area, Brendan and I approached on foot while the others stayed in the truck. A large herd makes it hard to assess each animal before something moves and gets lost in the sea of stripes. This group was already alert and slowing moving; we tried to find the right one as each became visible in the small openings in the brush. As we made another approach, the distant sound of a car door shutting sent them into a full run. They quickly were out of sight, but the sound of the galloping herd continued to let us know they were not going to stop.
With the light almost gone, that was the end of the hunt - a mountain zebra would have to wait for a return trip.
We regrouped at the truck to leave the area, only stopping to open a gate. I caught a glimpse of a cat move from the fence to the brush and could see the outline of its head inside a bush. I asked Brendan to take a look, as my quick glimpse was not enough to determine which type of cat it was. The light was too low to determine by the outline of the face, but when the cat moved to another bush the short tail gave a clear indication it was a caracal. We waited for the cat to dart across the sandy road hoping to get a shot. A few short minutes was all it took for the cat to step into the road and take a quick shot - she dropped. She was a beautiful female, a stoke of luck had blessed us with this rare opportunity.
Our last day in the Northern Cape had been a very successful and special day.
Day 9:
We packed up and headed for the Limpopo region for a giraffe; a brisk 10 hour drive across the country. While there were giraffe available in the Northern Cape, this property was working with a food bank to give back to the community and taking a giraffe would provide a lot of meat to help the cause.
Day 10:
We started the search for giraffe in a mix of tall trees and steep mountains; we would need to be selective of location as several areas would make recovery nearly impossible for such a large animal. We were looking for an old bull and had an extra stipulation that the dark bulls were off limits per the property owners wishes.
Throughout the day, we found several cows and a few dark bulls, but hadn’t found the large “white” bulls (the local description of the common tan bulls). These giant animals easily hid on the mountain and in the tall trees, they could quickly disappear.
The day ended without finding the right bull, with our flight home the next day we had one more morning to make it happen.
The final day:
We back calculated the time to get to the airport and pack out a giraffe to realize that we had to be successful early in the morning to fit it all in. We decided to skip breakfast and head out earlier; a wise decision. We found a new group in the low land, a very large bull but too dark to take. Still, a positive sign that new animals were out moving.
We headed up the mountain to an open area where we had seen a cow and dark bull the day before. This morning there was a “white” bull in the same location. A beautiful bull we would be proud to take.
Brendon and I got out of the truck to approach on foot, with the 450-400 double rifle I wanted to be close. From roughly 40 yards, I placed the shot in the chest as he faced us. Quickly following with another round from the second barrel. The giant animal easily soaked up the bullets without much reaction. I quickly reloaded to stop him as he tried to run for the deep cover. One round hit and the other struck a tree limb in front of him. Another quick reload and two more rounds; the five rounds took him to the ground (should have been six if I hadn’t hit the tree limb).
I reloaded and we approached to ensure he was done. He lifted his head when we approached so a shot to the chest and a final shot to give a humane end to the beautiful animal.
The giant giraffe, such an iconic animal, was a very fitting end to the trip. Somehow we had pulled off a second above average safari - a mix of record book size animals and uncommon species.
Using the long flight home to recap the trip, I’m already day dreaming of the upcoming return visit.
Write up below, but here are the videos too:
The first trip cemented the Africa bug so it wasn’t long before I booked this second trip. This time my wife, Jessica, joined me to experience the beauty of Africa. I was excited for her - hoping she would love the adventure as much as I did my first time to the dark continent.
Oddly, it didn’t take much to convince Jess to go after a lion with me; she had seen photos of hunters posing with the beautiful big cats and said she wanted a picture like that - we could make that happen. Just like that, we had another trip planned for 18 months out.
Much of that time was spent working on loads for the double rifle; finding a combination of bullets and powder that regulated well and were suitable for the large cat. Anything to prepare for the trip and try to get those 18 months to pass quicker.
My first trip had been extremely successful, it was not an average safari - something I kept reminding myself to set the expectations for the second trip.
Day 1:
Our first full day in Africa was spent in the truck, driving from Johannesburg to the Kalahari to soon search for a lion. A long day in the vehicle offered us an opportunity to get to know Richter and Janike; both I knew of from the group chats but had yet to hunt with. Overall the day was long and the anticipation was high for the coming days.
Day 2-3:
With a 450-400 Nitro Express double in hand, we set off into the Kalahari to track a lion in the tall grass (emphasis on tall).
The first few hours were spent searching for a fresh track in the sand; once found, the size made it clear - it was a large male lion. We started to drive the connecting roads to form a grid pattern, narrowing down where the cat was hiding. Once the block was identified, we disembarked from the vehicle to pursue by foot. Our trackers (Peit and Sylvester) lead the way, the PH (Richter) and myself just an arms length behind, Jess bravely holding the rear with Janike.
Watching the trackers follow these faint tracks through a combination of sand, grass, and mixed vegetation was impressive to say the least. As we worked through the block, we received a call over the radio that the lion had stepped onto the dirt road behind the truck and headed to a new location. We quickly worked our way back to the road and toward the next block of thick vegitation. The cat appeared for a moment, I raised the rifle and aimed for the chest. He was looking at me and I at him, but the shot didn’t feel right - in a few seconds the moment had passed when the cat disappeared into the brush. We quickly grouped and got back on the trail.
Throughout the day, the big cat stayed ahead of us - thanks to the early season rain, the grass was much taller than anticipated. In many places it was waist high, with one area being head high - not the most comforting thing when a lion can disappear in knee high grass.
We followed on his heals for over 6.5 miles that day; with our only visual being a fleeting glimpse of him briskly walking through an open area (quickly gaining distance from us). The sighting kicked us into high gear and sent us back in the tall grass as the sun started to set. It was a surreal feeling to follow the tracks in the fading light in the shoulder height grass; keeping our heads on a swivel.
The first night ended without another encounter; what would be in store for day two?
We gathered for dinner and talked about the plan for the next day. We were confident the lion was tired from the heavy pursuit and we would be able to make a stand in the morning. It was a great plan, until the next morning when we found fresh tracks indicating the lion had walked and hunted through the night. This cat was an athlete and clearing not tiring out soon.
We spent time following the tracks in the road to determine where he was; they went on and on before leading back to where we found him the first morning.
While working the track, we could see where he started to run and quickly turn - a clear indication he had been hunting recently - not the tired cat we thought we would find.
The second morning mirrored the first, pushing the track to try to find the lion but him staying ahead just enough to remain out of view. We knew any shot opportunity was going to be quick.
We jumped back in the truck to circle the new blocks the tracks entered; he had already gained a large lead on us and tracking the tall grass was going slower than the cat’s casual stride.
As we made a large circle of the area, the lion appeared in the bushes - standing broadside and trying to get a look at these things following him. This was our short window to get a shot in a burst of chaos - trying to grab the rifle, load the two rounds, and dismount the back of the truck. I took a quick shot while still only half out of the vehicle - one leg up, one down.
The lion dropped, was he down for good or just stunned? I quickly replaced the empty cartridge with a fresh one and we (Richter and I) quickly cut the distance to a few yards. Two shots to the chest were the final touches to end the pursuit of this majestic creature. A beautiful old lion, the fulfillment of a childhood dream, and a shared adventure with my wife.
The end of day 3 was spent driving to the Northern Cape to start our next adventure.
Day 4:
Today we would venture out to find a white rhino.
Much like the lion, it did not require much convincing to get Jess onboard - a simple “do you want a picture with a rhino” was enough.
I may have failed to emphasize that going after the second largest land animal with nothing more than a vita-dart could lead to a much sketchier situation than going after a lion with a double rifle. We were both certain this was a good addition to the trip…
After much anticipation, the day came to pursue the rhino. We arrived to the property in the morning and walked through the plan and operation of the dart gun. A few quick practice shots from 30 to 60 yards had us ready to start the search for a rhino.
We drove to a small hill, the short hike up would provide a vantage point to glass for the large animals - they can hide easier than most would believe. Three were spotted, with one being a lone male that we thought we could stalk into position on.
We started working toward the rhino, the veterinarian and I in front with Brendan and Jessica in back. Jess and Brendan stayed back for the final stalk.
Slow is smooth, smooth ended up being fast. We stalked to roughly 40 yards, then I raised up on my knees to make the shot. The dart hit as intended, just behind the ear.
With the first stalk successful and the shot placed correctly, I earned the nickname “anti-climatic Brian” when it came to the Big 5.
As the rhino jogged away, we deployed a drone to track the bull and raced back to the truck to get to the rhino while the dose started to take effect.
A short African rodeo ensued as an additional dose was administered and we guided the giant to a soft resting place. Guiding a rhino is like guiding a large truck - push all you want, it’s going wherever it wants too.
Once safely down, the vet checked the vitals, scanned for microchips, and took research data - then a few photos for Jess and myself before administering the reversal. As quickly as it started, it was now over and the rhino was headed back to cover. Truly amazing to be part of a conservation effort of this creature; an experience that felt like stepping into the real life version of Jurassic Park.
The rhino experience had gone so smoothly that we had time to spare. To make use of the time, I borrowed a rifle (mine was back at the lodge as we didn’t bring it to the rhino property). After a quick trip to the range to test fire the loaner, we went out in search of lechwe - the top plains game animal on my list.
This place was a honey hole for lechwe, and it wasn’t long before we found rams. The first had great length and width but was just too young. A second was mature but not as long so we decided to pass.
Several more rams and ewes were spotted before we found a mature ram fitting the criteria we were looking for. We grabbed the sticks and started the short stalk, everything was going smoothly. I settled on the sticks, flipped the safety forward, and squeezed the trigger… nothing happened. Quickly checking the rifle, it was now in position two of a three position safety - a quick fix and back on the sticks. Again squeezing the trigger, but this time the shot rang out and the ram dropped.
The beautiful lechwe was now mine and headed for the salt.
Day 5:
With a long list of target animals, we set out to see what we could find. It wasn’t long before Brendan spotted a lone springbok bedded near a tree. We made a short stalk to get close enough to determine he was mature; then set up the sticks. The shot hit true and another beautiful animal was down.
We quickly approached to watch the back hair rise, a unique thing that happens when a springbok expires. We then ran our fingers through the fur and bent down to take a sniff - it has a sweet smell, much like cotton candy.
After a short drive to the skinning shed, we were back in search of more animals. We hadn’t made it very far when we came across a group of ostriches - something that I had the desire to take if the opportunity arose. A quick shot and the large male ran out of sight; he had made a small circle before quickly collapsing.
With the bird down, we took a bit of time to admire the dinosaur like features of the animal. The large flightless bird, with his prehistory feet, is a very interesting species.
We dropped him at the skinning shed and took a short break for the morning.
As evening approached we set out to see what else we could find. After passing a blesbok and watching some giraffes, we found ourselves heading back to the lodge to wrap up the day. Before we could get there, a large lone bull gemsbok was spotted in a small clearing in the brush. We ranged him at 274 yards; we was quartering toward us so I settled the crosshairs on his chest and squeezed. The bullet impacted hard and he dropped out of sight. The bushes around him erupted with other gemsbok; he was not a lone bull after all.
With the other animals gone, we sent Janike out to mark the spot to recover the bull. As she approached, the gemsbok jumped up and disappeared back into the heavy cover. We quickly went in to find him as the light was fading fast.
The first shot was vital but the gemsbok didn’t seem to know that; he jump up to run several times. In the end, we were able to stop the bull and give him the admiration he deserved. Placing hands on such a beautiful animal is a surreal feeling - a time to express gratitude and show respect.
Far from any road and the light now gone; we sent for additional help to pack this out and get to the skinning shed.
Day 6:
With no roan left on quota at base camp, we headed to a neighboring property to search for a worthy bull. The morning drive found giraffe on the other side of a canyon and a group of red hartebeest (with an impressive ram) but no roan were spotted.
We retuned in the evening to find animals more active; coming across gemsbok, kudu, impala, then two roan bulls appeared. The two were not going to stop so a quick shot was placed into the leading bull on the move; he dropped. Another shot to help him expire quickly.
As we walked up, he continued to grow - this was a giant roan, stretching the tape beyond anything I had hoped for.
Day 7:
I had a lifelong desire to find a caracal and the best way was to try to tree one with dogs. Brendan and I discussed the low odds in general, now combined with the extra complication of Sheldon wearing a leg brace for an injured knee and knowing this group of dogs had never pursued a cat. Regardless of the low odds, we were aligned with the notion that “all we can do is try”.
We split into two groups; Jess and I went with Richter and Janike in search of blesbok (a surprisingly elusive animal), while Brendan and Sheldon took the dogs in search of cat tracks.
As the morning went on, we came across a few blesbok but were unable to find a male we could go after. We started to stalk a springbok to try to get Jess in a position to take her first animal - half way into the stalk we received a call from Brendon. Against all odds, the call was to say a cat was treed - a mad rush ensued, sprinting back to the truck, then racing down the dirt road. No sooner than the truck came to a stop, I was already jumping out the back to run to the tree. A cat in a tree is the equivalent feeling a 10-year old has waking up on Christmas morning. With a dumb grin ear to ear, I ran under the tree to grab the shotgun from Brendon - I hadn’t paused long enough to actually assess the tree to see where the cat was. With shotgun now in hand, I spun around to see the cat above me and quickly lined up the shot. Click… it was a light primer strike on the top barrel. Quickly switching to the bottom barrel and going through the motion again, the pellets hit and the cat dropped to the ground. A second try of the top barrel set off the primer for a follow up shot.
All these actions were compressed into no more than a single minute. All team members looking at each other with an expression showing disbelief and excitement of what just took place.
Any caracal is a trophy, these impressive and elusive animals are not easy to come by - it only took one glance to realize this particular tom was a true giant of the species, no average cat. His giant head and torn ears gave indication of a long life of hunting and fighting.
Day 8:
We headed to a new neighboring property to look for a black wildebeest. We needed to pass through a small mountain area to get to the plains the wildebeest like. While we were admiring the scenic views, Brendan spotted a group of mountain reedbuck at the top of the mountain. A very nice ram and four ewes. Mountain reedbuck are not common in the Northern Cape, so it was a rare opportunity.
Brendan assessed the animal to verify it was mature and I aligned for a steep upward shot. With the excitement, I squeezed the trigger shortly after he confirmed it was mature, not pausing long enough to allow Brendan to turn on the camera. The ram dropped where he stood and officially became the first mountain reedbuck ever taken on the property.
A short but steep climb brought us to the animal. Up close the deep curl of the horn showed more length than initially thought, it was a very nice ram. Brendon descended the mountain with the reedbuck over his shoulders and we continued on in search of the black wildebeest.
We rounded a corner and saw an impala ram behind a tree. The tree blocked his horns, only becoming visible as he walked away - a very long, heavy horned ram. We caught back up to him and got Jess on the rifle - an impala is an iconic first animal to take for an African hunter and this one would make most veteran hunters jealous. She lined up her shot and squeezed the trigger; the impala dropped. Jess was now a successful huntress - for me, it was a very proud moment, mixed with a slight fear that she might become hooked and split my hunting budget in half…
We hadn’t made it to the plains, but had already had a very successful morning.
As the landscape opened, we could see a group of black wildebeest far out in the open. These clowns of the plains do not stop moving, they run and buck like a hyper child after a lot of candy. They would cut across a large area and the quickly shift and run back the other way. A large bull was in the front (then quickly in the rear when they changed directions). He briefly stoped at 432 yards to allow for the shot, the bullet hit the mark and the bull was quickly down.
This wrapped up a phenomenal morning. The saying “take was Africa gives you,” this day Africa was in a very giving mood.
In the evening, we headed out in search of Hartman zebra, a mountain animal much more elusive than the plains species.
On the way out, a group of blesbok ran past - the same group who evaded us each day prior. A ram stopped in the thick brush with his horns and back visible; I took the shot and he dropped. This was a rare saddleback coloring, a highly prized variation of the common blesbok. We took our photos and brought him to the skinning shed before continuing on in search of the zebra.
We were looking for an old mare, needing to avoid stallions and pregnant mares. The first sighting was a stallion and mare at the top a mountain. The mare was old, but the rocks and vegetation hid too much of her body to confirm she was okay to take. We went up the mountain to get a better look but they were gone by the time we circled back to where they had been.
Back down the mountain, we jumped back in the truck to try to find more - the sun was already setting so we only had a short window to get it done.
A group was spotted on the move in a lower area, Brendan and I approached on foot while the others stayed in the truck. A large herd makes it hard to assess each animal before something moves and gets lost in the sea of stripes. This group was already alert and slowing moving; we tried to find the right one as each became visible in the small openings in the brush. As we made another approach, the distant sound of a car door shutting sent them into a full run. They quickly were out of sight, but the sound of the galloping herd continued to let us know they were not going to stop.
With the light almost gone, that was the end of the hunt - a mountain zebra would have to wait for a return trip.
We regrouped at the truck to leave the area, only stopping to open a gate. I caught a glimpse of a cat move from the fence to the brush and could see the outline of its head inside a bush. I asked Brendan to take a look, as my quick glimpse was not enough to determine which type of cat it was. The light was too low to determine by the outline of the face, but when the cat moved to another bush the short tail gave a clear indication it was a caracal. We waited for the cat to dart across the sandy road hoping to get a shot. A few short minutes was all it took for the cat to step into the road and take a quick shot - she dropped. She was a beautiful female, a stoke of luck had blessed us with this rare opportunity.
Our last day in the Northern Cape had been a very successful and special day.
Day 9:
We packed up and headed for the Limpopo region for a giraffe; a brisk 10 hour drive across the country. While there were giraffe available in the Northern Cape, this property was working with a food bank to give back to the community and taking a giraffe would provide a lot of meat to help the cause.
Day 10:
We started the search for giraffe in a mix of tall trees and steep mountains; we would need to be selective of location as several areas would make recovery nearly impossible for such a large animal. We were looking for an old bull and had an extra stipulation that the dark bulls were off limits per the property owners wishes.
Throughout the day, we found several cows and a few dark bulls, but hadn’t found the large “white” bulls (the local description of the common tan bulls). These giant animals easily hid on the mountain and in the tall trees, they could quickly disappear.
The day ended without finding the right bull, with our flight home the next day we had one more morning to make it happen.
The final day:
We back calculated the time to get to the airport and pack out a giraffe to realize that we had to be successful early in the morning to fit it all in. We decided to skip breakfast and head out earlier; a wise decision. We found a new group in the low land, a very large bull but too dark to take. Still, a positive sign that new animals were out moving.
We headed up the mountain to an open area where we had seen a cow and dark bull the day before. This morning there was a “white” bull in the same location. A beautiful bull we would be proud to take.
Brendon and I got out of the truck to approach on foot, with the 450-400 double rifle I wanted to be close. From roughly 40 yards, I placed the shot in the chest as he faced us. Quickly following with another round from the second barrel. The giant animal easily soaked up the bullets without much reaction. I quickly reloaded to stop him as he tried to run for the deep cover. One round hit and the other struck a tree limb in front of him. Another quick reload and two more rounds; the five rounds took him to the ground (should have been six if I hadn’t hit the tree limb).
I reloaded and we approached to ensure he was done. He lifted his head when we approached so a shot to the chest and a final shot to give a humane end to the beautiful animal.
The giant giraffe, such an iconic animal, was a very fitting end to the trip. Somehow we had pulled off a second above average safari - a mix of record book size animals and uncommon species.
Using the long flight home to recap the trip, I’m already day dreaming of the upcoming return visit.
