28 Nosler
New member
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2022
- Messages
- 9
- Reaction score
- 46
- Location
- Texas
- Member of
- SCI, TTHA, DU
- Hunted
- South Africa
Hunt Dates: April 25 – May 4, 2022
Travel: United Airlines from DFW to Newark, NJ then to Johannesburg. One night at Africa Sky, then flew Airlink from JNB to East London.
Agent: My best friend TXhunter65 handled everything for us. To say that Jeff is detailed would be a massive understatement.
Type of Hunt: Cape Buffalo and plains game for three friends. This was Jeffs third trip over, the second for Mark, and my first ever safari.
Outfitter: @HUNTERSHILL safaris
Taxidermy: @SPLITTING IMAGE TAXIDERMY
PH: Wes Renken for me, Jason Olivier for Jeff, and Grant Acton for Mark. I could not have had a better match for a PH than Wes. He is first class all the way! Had a great time with Jason and Grant as well.
Method: Rifle Hunting: Ruger M77 Ranch Rifle .300 Win Mag, Remington 700 .458 Win Mag, .375.
Locations Hunted: I took 5 trophies from Huntershill’s main property, 4 from their Rocklands property, and 3 from outside low fence properties.
Species Hunted: Cape buffalo, kudu, nyala, bushbuck, sable, gemsbok, blue wildebeest, black wildebeest, warthog, blesbok, and impala.
Trophy Quality: Very happy with the quality, beyond what I had expected.
Food: Every meal was outstanding. Max, the chef, was on point every single meal, the man can cook! My favorite meat was kudu tenderloin that the PHs cooked over hot coals at the Rocklands.
Beverage: Wes and the other PHs introduced me to Brandy and Coke…I don’t want to think about how many I consumed over 10 nights. Tried several of the local beers and my favorites were the Windhoek Draught and the St Francis Beach Blonde Ale. Also enjoyed a few Splitting Image 375s.
High Point: So many great moments, but nothing will top the experience of the Kudu hunt.
Low Point: No low points, just two stupid moments on my part. First was packing my 36 waist pre covid hunting pants that are now way too small instead of the exact same pair in 38…meant every other day I felt like I was being cut in half and led to some unsightly pics. Other stupid moment occurred in my first conversation with Wes about the hunt. I stupidly told him I was ready to cover some miles and would walk up any mountain for an animal. No one told me Wes was 50% mountain goat, that dude can go flat out up a mountain for as long as he wants. Peloton, Stairmaster, and eight to ten mile hikes and runs in flat land Texas were not adequate preparation. Having recently turned 44 years old I am often reminded of the immortal words of Stinger in Top Gun, “your ego is writing checks your body can’t cash.” My body could not keep up with my ego. Wes would stop and wait, offer rest periods, and offer to hunt closer to the road, but I wouldn’t have it! I wanted to get away from the roads and we did! I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything!!!
Overall Rating: I was amazed by the beauty of the Eastern Cape. The hunts were challenging and very rewarding. The facilities were fantastic, and the service and hospitality were truly remarkable. Now I know why everyone makes return trips to Huntershill.
No words could properly convey how exciting and memorable this trip was for Jeff, Mark, and I. Wes and I had already discussed that although I had a list of animals, I was open to whatever the bush provided. Also, I was more interested in hunting wise, fully or post mature animals with character rather than tape measure trophies, except for maybe kudu. Kudu was and remains the holy grail of African animals for me. I was willing to pass on good bulls and possibly miss out on other species in search of the kudu of my dreams.
Here is my experience…
DAY 1: Cold and wet was not what I was expecting on a safari, but that’s what I got on the first morning. First stop was the range, and after two shots through the bullseye (even I was surprised) we were off and heading up into the mountains. I felt like a child going to the zoo for the first time, completely amazed by everything around me. After stopping to glass several times and spotting kudu, eland, blesbok, gemsbok, and a couple of fallow, we spotted a herd of blues and decided to take off on a stalk. They gave us the slip, but undeterred we continued up the side of a mountain and got high enough where the clouds gave us a bit of cover. We continued to work our way around the mountain toward other glassing spots. We evaluated countless blesbok rams along the way and even got high enough to see some aoudad ewes. We eventually made our way back to a road where the tracker met us. After 7.5 miles at close to 6,000 feet, I was beyond exhausted. While I hydrated and rested a bit, Wes climbed to another glassing area and spotted a herd of black wildebeest. They were way up the mountain, close to 1000 yards away. We closed to 500 yards and the herd took off single file straight up the slope and around to the west face of the mountain. However, the big old bull we were after, and three others had stayed behind. I wasn’t comfortable shooting 500 yards with a rifle I had only shot twice from a bench, so we slowly closed to 390 yards. Shooting uphill at what seemed like 45 degrees I opted for a prone shot resting on a rock while using a sweater and a bino harness for padding. One shot and he dropped in his tracks. I couldn’t have been more excited. Now the fun part, getting too him. We had to drag him down to an area with less slope for pics. I really like the character of the bosses on this old fella!
After loading up the black wildebeest we started making our way back down out of the mountains. On the last ridge before dropping down into the flats my PH spotted a herd of blue wildebeest in a steep canyon below us, with a very old bull at the back of the pack. He slowly separated himself from the herd and went to lay down under some thorn trees in the flats. Wes and I hopped out of the vehicle and the stalk was on. After 800 yards of weaving our way through the flat land Wes decided it was time to crawl. We believed to be 100 yards out from the bull but because of the tall grass and trees we couldn’t see him. We were very fortunate to have the wind in our favor. Wes crawled about 10 yards to our left to get a different angle when I heard him whisper don’t move. I could see Wes was frozen still, looking straight ahead, but I still couldn’t see the bull. Evidently, he was 30 yards in front of me, behind a tree. Wes asked if I could shoot off hand, of course I said yes! About that time, the brave old bull charged several yards toward us, then wheeled around and ran 50 yards directly away from us before then turning left trying to wind us. I quickly rolled back into a sitting position and was able to get my left elbow on my left knee for stability and the second he stopped I double lunged him at 75 yards. He went about 30 yards and toppled over. What a thrilling stalk! He may not be the biggest, but he was very old, teeth practically gone! What an amazing first day.
DAY 2: We started out the day looking for Gemsbok. It was a sunny morning, but it was below freezing, and everything was soaked from the previous nights’ rains. While driving, Wes and I discussed the pros and cons of shooting a male vs a female. If possible, I wanted to go after an older bull. We finally were able to locate a small group of five or six Gemsbok that included an older bull that appeared to have an injured right front leg. We set off on a stalk and things were going great until we ran into a very angry water buffalo. After deviating off course to put some distance between us and the cranky water buffalo, we were within range, but finding an opening in the thorn trees was challenging. Finally, he stepped out broadside at 250 yards and I rushed the shot. We initially feared he was gut shot, but instead I had clipped his upper leg and brisket without doing any real damage. We followed him up a long, steadily sloping hill another ½ mile and finally was able to get a shot at about 220 yards and he went down hard. However, this old brute stood right back up, so I put another shot into his neck to end things. The second shot was through the heart and lungs, but I did not know that at the time. Really proud of this old bull, love the thickness of his bases. Just a beautiful animal!
Since it was only 0830, we went to look for sable. En route we ran into an old lechwe that was so sick he couldn’t even stand up. We put him out of his misery, he must have had a bad infection, he smelled like he had been dead for days. Next, in a low area near the river, we happened across a herd of buffalo about 30 strong, including one nice, hard bossed bull. Unfortunately, we weren’t carrying the big guns with us and continued our sable quest. We were able to spot a group of roughly 20 sables slowly feeding up a slope toward the top of a ridge. We were able get downwind of them and we slowly made our way to the backside of the ridge where we thought they would eventually move through. While hiding behind the only bush in the area we were able to evaluate them and pick out the dominate bull. As he checked on the females, I was able to get on the sticks right at 200 yards and just as I squeezed the trigger, he made a lunging movement and his back dropped and I hit him in the spine. I quickly reloaded and as soon as he stood up, put the second shot in his heart. Despite being upset with myself about my bad shooting, I was blown away by the size and beauty of this trophy!
After lunch and a power nap, we took another drive just to see what we could find. We came across large herds of tsessebe and golden wildebeest before finding a massive herd of blesbok, must have been 100 or more. We watched them for quite some time and easily figured out which ram was dominant in the herd. That was the easy part of this hunt. Getting into position for a decent shot was a challenge. After a lot of maneuvering and a little cursing we got to 425 yards, I didn’t allow enough for the wind and hit him too far back…gut shot. A few minutes later we got to 350 yards, and I was able to place a good shot through both shoulders. That little warrior was rutting hard and winning every battle he got mixed up in. Despite my shooting woes I had a terrific day and was able to take some beautiful animals. We popped open a couple of beers and sat on the tailgate and watched the sun set in the Eastern Cape, it was surreal.
Day 3: This morning was my first trip off the Huntershill property, as we traveled to a farm 30 mins away to hunt for kudu. We spent that morning glassing the mountainside, putting a long stalk in on one very nice bull that we determined to not be finished out. Later, I passed on fully mature bull that my PH said 99% of his hunters would shoot, but for some reason I never considered taking him, even though he was standing broadside at 200 yards. Wes estimated he was probably 46 inches, a fine bull for the Eastern Cape. However, we both agreed that he wasn’t the bull I was after, even if it meant I might not see one better during my hunt. That afternoon we went searching for the herd of buffalo we had seen the day before but did not locate them. We did come across a group of 7 bulls and were able to stalk within 60 yards, but they all needed another 2-3 years of seasoning. I gained valuable experience and had a lot of fun despite not finding the right buffalo.
Day 4: We set out for another farm roughly one hour from the lodge to hunt for kudu. The previous day a 53-inch bull was taken on the property. The farmer went along with us and was very nice, even offering me a heavier jacket to wear on this very cold morning. We were able to spot several good-looking young bulls and one exceptional bull that was finished, too bad he only had one horn.
Following the hunt, we headed south a few hours to the Huntershill property known as Rocklands. It was on this journey that I was introduced to biltong. We stopped in at the Avon Butchery in Fort Beaufort and Wes went behind the counter and hand selected the cuts for us. I am officially a huge fan of biltong and probably ate more than my fair share from the bag. When we pulled into the Rocklands the landscape reminded me of the Texas Hill Country and West Texas. For some reason I had a good feeling about this place, and I would soon find out why!
That afternoon we went to a nearby ranch that was known for producing some of the best Kudu in the area. We picked up Wes’ good friend Carl, who just happened to be the son of the farmer. We drove down to a citrus orchard to glass a ridgeline that extended off a big mountain. The mountain was supposedly a haven for big kudu. Also, one of the workers had spotted a monster close to the orchard that afternoon. We arrived just in time, we had been glassing for 15 mins and had seen several cows and a few nice bulls when my heart just stopped!! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! Walking toward us up the far slope to the top of the ridgeline was the most beautiful, majestic animal I had ever seen on the hoof. All you could see were his horns on the skyline and with every step they just got bigger and bigger until eventually his head and body were in view. This animal was the reason I came to Africa. He was the type of animal I had been dreaming about seeing all my life. At the same time as I said WOW, Wes and Carl started making sounds and words in Afrikaans that I can’t even explain, other than to say they were beside themselves. Wes uttered “my word that is a stove” while Carl remarked that he was a “rip-roarer.” What was more impressive than his size was just how beautiful he was, he had the perfect shape. His ivory tips just glistened in the late afternoon sun. Unfortunately, he was 700 yards away. He soon followed some cows down the backside of the ridge away from us and out of sight. Due to the recent rains, we could not pursue him because the Kat River ran between us. After some conversation, Wes and Carl had an idea. There was one more spot we could view him from, but it would be a 40 min drive and we only have 30 mins of light remaining. Wes claimed he could do it in 20 so we hopped in and took off…almost literally. 20 mins later we arrived on the top of a rock face overlooking the river, with a perfect view of backside of the ridge. We all laughed when Wes commented that Max Verstappen would’ve been jealous of his driving. We were able to spot him the stove, but he never broke 750 yards. We all agreed that we would be back in the orchard at daylight the next morning.
That night we had a fun opportunity, we were asked to go spotlight in an orchard to shoot duiker and bushbuck that were causing damage to the crop. We loaded up in the Landcruiser with Grant driving and Mark in the cab with him. I was in the high rack seat on the right and my buddy Jeff was on the left seat. Wes, Jason, and Carl were in the back with us. It was some adventure, I got closer than I ever wanted to get to a porcupine and I’m talking inches, not feet, yards, or meters. I was really hoping Jeff would get a shot at a bushbuck, he was unsuccessful on his first two safaris and wanted one bad. After driving on both ends of every single row without seeing anything, we had practically given up. With 2 rows to go Grant started to speed up when someone, not me, spotted a bushbuck. We turned around and slowly went back the direction we had come from. Row after row we slowly crept along until suddenly, we spotted the ram. He was on my side of the truck, so the rifle was handed to me, and I quickly took aim. While everyone was saying shoot, shoot, shoot, I could barely see the bushbuck in the scope because the parallax was way off. I had never even touched this rifle before and was trying to adjust the scope in the dark. What seemed like an eternity passed, it was probably just a couple of seconds, I got the scope just clear enough to see the body and he was facing directly away from me. With only a couple of feet or less between the citrus trees, the bushbuck turned his head and I put the crosshairs on his neck and squeezed, he fell in his tracks, roughly 100 yards. Now at this point I have never hunted bushbuck or even seen one in person. Now I suddenly have one on the ground! While I was excited, I felt a little bad that Jeff didn’t get to shoot at him instead. We all unloaded and headed down the row to retrieve him. I didn’t know it at the time, but evidently when everyone else was saying shoot, Wes was saying don’t shoot because he couldn’t see him. Wes was relieved when we got down there because he was a good ram and no one was more excited for me than Jeff, that’s a true friend. Pic was taken the next day.
Day 5: Needless to say, I didn’t sleep much. Wes, Carl, and I arrived back at the orchard right at first light. Wasn’t long after that we began to see the mountainside come alive with kudu. We could see three good shooter bulls, but there was no sign of the stove from the previous evening. One bull stood out as being better than the rest. He was funny looking because it looked like he had broken a shrub off and it was sitting on his head, green as it could be. At this point I was grateful to have an opportunity at this bull and we were setting up for a shot when we spotted “the stove.” Wes and I quickly ran to our left to get a better angle on him and found an opening and got the rifle up on the sticks. He was at 370 yards with a 5mph left to right wind. I only had a small opening for a shot as he had trees above and below him, to his left and to his right. A cow was standing below him, and her head was right in front of his shoulder. I just remember thinking for a split second that I practiced my whole life for this shot, make this the shot of your life, I felt so relaxed. I put the cross hairs at the top of his back and about 12 inches left and the second the cow moved off to the right to his hind quarter I let it fly. I know it sounds crazy, but I didn’t blink, and I saw the vapor trail for a flash. The bullet hit him hard, I saw him lower his head hard as I worked the bolt to reload, he stepped to his left, then I lost him. At that moment Wes and Carl started jumping up and down like kids saying he was down, he was dead!!! I unloaded the rifle and joined the celebration; I was in complete disbelief. Excluding watching my kids hunt, this was the one moment of my life as a hunter that I had dreamed about more than any other. The two great trophies I have always wanted were a kudu and an elk. Finally, I had fulfilled one of those dreams. After being congratulated on a great shot and a great animal, and many thanks to Wes for getting me set up and dialed in on him perfectly, one question had to be answered. Wes asked Carl how were we going to get to him? Carl’s response was in Afrikaans first and then English, “hope you wore boxers because we are going swimming!” We started by scaling the wobbly eight-foot fence surrounding the orchard. Then we slid 15 feet down to the river, took off boots and socks, carefully crossed through the swift current, and then crawled on all fours up the other bank. Next was crawling through 40 yards of thorns, then up the hill we went. Wes was first on the scene, he let out a holler that made me pick up my pace. Upon seeing this magnificent animal, he was even bigger in person than he looked through optics. No ground shrinkage here. I remember being somewhat somber out of respect for this great animal. He would feed many people and hold a place of honor in my home the rest of my life, with the story being retold countless times. If he would have been the only trophy I took in South Africa, this hunt would have still been beyond my wildest dreams! It took 10 of us three hours to get him carved up and across the river, but he was worth bit of effort.
DAY 6: After a good celebration the night before, I struggled out of bed just in time for breakfast. Mark, Jeff, and I were sipping on coffee when the PH’s spotted a large warthog from patio of the lodge. Immediately, Wes said let’s go Chris. I was totally unprepared. I ran to my room and exchanged my flip flops for hunting boots without bothering to tie the laces and we were off and literally running. I didn’t have a cap, was wearing glasses instead of contacts, wasn’t wearing a belt, and my binos were in the truck. I had not seen the warthog and assumed it must be close…wrong again. I must have looked like the most unprepared hunter of all time as I kept coming out of my untied boots and twice my pants fell to my knees, I had lost some weight following Wes around for a week. After 1100 yards, Wes set up the sticks and I got the rifle on them. He whispered for me to hurry and shoot before he runs, but I still hadn’t seen the thing. I scanned through the scope from 75 to 250 yards and couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t believe I didn’t see him, finally I asked how far out, he said 30 yards, I aimed lower and all I saw in the scope was warthog. He was facing us and quartered a little to the left, I put the crosshairs in front of his nearest shoulder and squeezed the trigger, good hit. After high fives we went to look for him, we didn’t think he would go far. There was no blood, not a single drop, we were concerned. After 5 mins of looking, Wes found him about 25 yards away. Not a single drop of blood anywhere, not even where he died or on his body.
After breakfast and a change into shorts we went searching for the elusive buffalo herds. I was armed with a .458 and Wes was backing me up with a .375. We stalked down to a low area around a pond with thick brush around it. There were no buffalo here, but Wes spotted another good warthog. He asked if I wanted to shoot another one, of course I said yes. Next, he told me we would do this like we were bow hunting, we would sneak up within 20 yards and I would shoot him off hand using the .375 with open sights. We snuck and crawled our way to the pond. The hog was feeding in shallow water, and I slipped out of the brush at 20 yards and shot him behind the shoulder, he went 20 yards and was done. Another fun stalk courtesy of Wes!
Day 7: We traveled south about an hour to another property that Wes could access to look for Nyala. We picked up his friend Luke at the farmhouse and literally within three minutes of driving we had a 27-inch Nyala bull appear in the road 50 yards in front of us. I was ready to get the rifle out and shoot him. He proceeded to run into the bush to our right and ended up 30 yards from the truck. Wes said we would pass because we had just arrived, and we would see many more good bulls. We hunted hard all day and only saw one other bull for about ten seconds. Wes was quite upset with himself for passing on the animal, or as he would say he was “touched.” I wasn’t bothered because the guy had been money on everything so far, I knew he would get me on another Nyala. Two positives from the day involved food. For lunch Wes made us one of the best sandwiches I have ever tasted. I would never have thought that warthog sausage, pickled jalapenos, and ketchup on a burger bun would be good, but it was amazing! On the way back to the lodge that night Wes stopped and picked up two pizzas he had ordered in Grahamstown. Let me tell you that the bacovian pizza is now my favorite. Bacon, feta cheese, and a slice of avocado…tasty!
Day 8: The hunt was on for buffalo. The herds at the Rocklands are notorious for being very difficult to locate, much less sneak up on. We parked ½ mile from the glassing point and walked carefully into the wind to the edge of a small ridge to glass below us into a valley. About 200 yards from the glassing point we could see a dust trail in the canyon below. Heading up the hill away from us was a large herd of buffalo running at full throttle. We didn’t think we had spooked them, but what else could have? We didn’t waste any time and set out after them. Two miles later we were able to sneak up a small ridge and onto a rock outcropping overlooking a drainage. On the far side of the dry creek bed the buffalo were slowly feeding downhill toward the bottom of a valley. Wes crept ahead to glass from behind thick brush and find a good bull. This was a herd of 30-40 buffalo, and they were very wary, so the tracker and I stayed back out of sight and quiet. Wes found an old bull with hard bosses and motioned me forward, he was all bloodied up from fighting. We looked and got on the same page and quietly got set up on the sticks. Just as I took the safety off, he told me to hold. The dominant bull stepped out and ran the other bull off. I got set up on the bigger bull and waited while Wes evaluated him. About this time, this wise fighter looks up right at me, only 80 yards away. Wes didn’t get the word shoot out of his mouth before I pulled the trigger on the .458 and hit him perfectly on the shoulder. As I reloaded, he darted to the right and then away from us about 30 yards, stumbled, and fell over backwards dead as a door nail. Surprisingly, no death bellow. Almost every video I had ever watched required multiple shots on these massive bulls. I could not believe I dropped him with one shot through the engine room. I was truly in awe at the size of this beast.
After getting the buffalo loaded up, we headed back to the Rocklands lodge for lunch when we ran into the biggest Impala we had seen on the trip. We put a stalk on but after 400 yards we lost sight and headed back to the truck. As we neared the vehicle we looked up and the Impala had doubled back and was 125 yards away facing us, quartered to the left. He was rutting hard and looking for a fight. I quickly got him in the scope and dropped him with one shot on the point of the shoulder. He had a massive body for an impala.
After lunch we loaded up and headed back to Huntershill. The Rocklands had been very good to me!!!
Day 9: This morning we decided to go on what was supposed to be a short stroll looking for fallow. Wes and I have different ideas on what constitutes a short stroll. Six miles later we had only seen a few young fallow. However, we did spot a 50+ inch kudu but didn’t get a shot. That evening we went back to the same area and ran into a massive fallow but ran out of daylight.
Day 10: Last day to hunt! I had to decide, go back after fallow or kudu at huntershill or make a three-hour drive towards the coast with hopes of finding Nyala. Off to the coast we went. We hunted until 11AM at the first location without seeing a single Nyala. The landowner was perplexed and showed us videos he had taken practically every morning, Nyala everywhere. We were running out of time, so we drove another couple of hours away to a spot only known as Location XY. As we pulled in the gate of this property I was beginning to wonder if we would find an nyala in time. Fortunately, I would soon realize this place was Nyala heaven. We saw 40-50 bulls the first 45 mins we were there. Finally, as we came out of some thick brush, we spotted an old Nyala bull with lots of character. As I quickly set up, he was headed for the thick bush, walking directly away from me, he was about to disappear. At the last second, he quartered to the left just enough for me to get a heart shot off. We walked up to where he was standing when I shot, and he was laying 25 yards away. He may not be the longest, but I love the fact he has great character. He was very old and had no teeth left. His body and coat were already showing signs of decline, he wouldn’t have survived more than a couple months.
I really don’t think my first safari could have gone any better than it did. Somehow, I was blessed to get everything on my list plus a blesbok and an extra warthog. Everything at Huntershill was fantastic. My PH, Wes Renken, was truly first class in every respect. He is a great PH and even better man. My friends Jeff and Mark had great hunts and took a lot of great trophies as well. I will always have great memories and trophies from this trip. Can’t wait to get back to Africa!
Travel: United Airlines from DFW to Newark, NJ then to Johannesburg. One night at Africa Sky, then flew Airlink from JNB to East London.
Agent: My best friend TXhunter65 handled everything for us. To say that Jeff is detailed would be a massive understatement.
Type of Hunt: Cape Buffalo and plains game for three friends. This was Jeffs third trip over, the second for Mark, and my first ever safari.
Outfitter: @HUNTERSHILL safaris
Taxidermy: @SPLITTING IMAGE TAXIDERMY
PH: Wes Renken for me, Jason Olivier for Jeff, and Grant Acton for Mark. I could not have had a better match for a PH than Wes. He is first class all the way! Had a great time with Jason and Grant as well.
Method: Rifle Hunting: Ruger M77 Ranch Rifle .300 Win Mag, Remington 700 .458 Win Mag, .375.
Locations Hunted: I took 5 trophies from Huntershill’s main property, 4 from their Rocklands property, and 3 from outside low fence properties.
Species Hunted: Cape buffalo, kudu, nyala, bushbuck, sable, gemsbok, blue wildebeest, black wildebeest, warthog, blesbok, and impala.
Trophy Quality: Very happy with the quality, beyond what I had expected.
Food: Every meal was outstanding. Max, the chef, was on point every single meal, the man can cook! My favorite meat was kudu tenderloin that the PHs cooked over hot coals at the Rocklands.
Beverage: Wes and the other PHs introduced me to Brandy and Coke…I don’t want to think about how many I consumed over 10 nights. Tried several of the local beers and my favorites were the Windhoek Draught and the St Francis Beach Blonde Ale. Also enjoyed a few Splitting Image 375s.
High Point: So many great moments, but nothing will top the experience of the Kudu hunt.
Low Point: No low points, just two stupid moments on my part. First was packing my 36 waist pre covid hunting pants that are now way too small instead of the exact same pair in 38…meant every other day I felt like I was being cut in half and led to some unsightly pics. Other stupid moment occurred in my first conversation with Wes about the hunt. I stupidly told him I was ready to cover some miles and would walk up any mountain for an animal. No one told me Wes was 50% mountain goat, that dude can go flat out up a mountain for as long as he wants. Peloton, Stairmaster, and eight to ten mile hikes and runs in flat land Texas were not adequate preparation. Having recently turned 44 years old I am often reminded of the immortal words of Stinger in Top Gun, “your ego is writing checks your body can’t cash.” My body could not keep up with my ego. Wes would stop and wait, offer rest periods, and offer to hunt closer to the road, but I wouldn’t have it! I wanted to get away from the roads and we did! I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything!!!
Overall Rating: I was amazed by the beauty of the Eastern Cape. The hunts were challenging and very rewarding. The facilities were fantastic, and the service and hospitality were truly remarkable. Now I know why everyone makes return trips to Huntershill.
No words could properly convey how exciting and memorable this trip was for Jeff, Mark, and I. Wes and I had already discussed that although I had a list of animals, I was open to whatever the bush provided. Also, I was more interested in hunting wise, fully or post mature animals with character rather than tape measure trophies, except for maybe kudu. Kudu was and remains the holy grail of African animals for me. I was willing to pass on good bulls and possibly miss out on other species in search of the kudu of my dreams.
Here is my experience…
DAY 1: Cold and wet was not what I was expecting on a safari, but that’s what I got on the first morning. First stop was the range, and after two shots through the bullseye (even I was surprised) we were off and heading up into the mountains. I felt like a child going to the zoo for the first time, completely amazed by everything around me. After stopping to glass several times and spotting kudu, eland, blesbok, gemsbok, and a couple of fallow, we spotted a herd of blues and decided to take off on a stalk. They gave us the slip, but undeterred we continued up the side of a mountain and got high enough where the clouds gave us a bit of cover. We continued to work our way around the mountain toward other glassing spots. We evaluated countless blesbok rams along the way and even got high enough to see some aoudad ewes. We eventually made our way back to a road where the tracker met us. After 7.5 miles at close to 6,000 feet, I was beyond exhausted. While I hydrated and rested a bit, Wes climbed to another glassing area and spotted a herd of black wildebeest. They were way up the mountain, close to 1000 yards away. We closed to 500 yards and the herd took off single file straight up the slope and around to the west face of the mountain. However, the big old bull we were after, and three others had stayed behind. I wasn’t comfortable shooting 500 yards with a rifle I had only shot twice from a bench, so we slowly closed to 390 yards. Shooting uphill at what seemed like 45 degrees I opted for a prone shot resting on a rock while using a sweater and a bino harness for padding. One shot and he dropped in his tracks. I couldn’t have been more excited. Now the fun part, getting too him. We had to drag him down to an area with less slope for pics. I really like the character of the bosses on this old fella!
After loading up the black wildebeest we started making our way back down out of the mountains. On the last ridge before dropping down into the flats my PH spotted a herd of blue wildebeest in a steep canyon below us, with a very old bull at the back of the pack. He slowly separated himself from the herd and went to lay down under some thorn trees in the flats. Wes and I hopped out of the vehicle and the stalk was on. After 800 yards of weaving our way through the flat land Wes decided it was time to crawl. We believed to be 100 yards out from the bull but because of the tall grass and trees we couldn’t see him. We were very fortunate to have the wind in our favor. Wes crawled about 10 yards to our left to get a different angle when I heard him whisper don’t move. I could see Wes was frozen still, looking straight ahead, but I still couldn’t see the bull. Evidently, he was 30 yards in front of me, behind a tree. Wes asked if I could shoot off hand, of course I said yes! About that time, the brave old bull charged several yards toward us, then wheeled around and ran 50 yards directly away from us before then turning left trying to wind us. I quickly rolled back into a sitting position and was able to get my left elbow on my left knee for stability and the second he stopped I double lunged him at 75 yards. He went about 30 yards and toppled over. What a thrilling stalk! He may not be the biggest, but he was very old, teeth practically gone! What an amazing first day.
DAY 2: We started out the day looking for Gemsbok. It was a sunny morning, but it was below freezing, and everything was soaked from the previous nights’ rains. While driving, Wes and I discussed the pros and cons of shooting a male vs a female. If possible, I wanted to go after an older bull. We finally were able to locate a small group of five or six Gemsbok that included an older bull that appeared to have an injured right front leg. We set off on a stalk and things were going great until we ran into a very angry water buffalo. After deviating off course to put some distance between us and the cranky water buffalo, we were within range, but finding an opening in the thorn trees was challenging. Finally, he stepped out broadside at 250 yards and I rushed the shot. We initially feared he was gut shot, but instead I had clipped his upper leg and brisket without doing any real damage. We followed him up a long, steadily sloping hill another ½ mile and finally was able to get a shot at about 220 yards and he went down hard. However, this old brute stood right back up, so I put another shot into his neck to end things. The second shot was through the heart and lungs, but I did not know that at the time. Really proud of this old bull, love the thickness of his bases. Just a beautiful animal!
Since it was only 0830, we went to look for sable. En route we ran into an old lechwe that was so sick he couldn’t even stand up. We put him out of his misery, he must have had a bad infection, he smelled like he had been dead for days. Next, in a low area near the river, we happened across a herd of buffalo about 30 strong, including one nice, hard bossed bull. Unfortunately, we weren’t carrying the big guns with us and continued our sable quest. We were able to spot a group of roughly 20 sables slowly feeding up a slope toward the top of a ridge. We were able get downwind of them and we slowly made our way to the backside of the ridge where we thought they would eventually move through. While hiding behind the only bush in the area we were able to evaluate them and pick out the dominate bull. As he checked on the females, I was able to get on the sticks right at 200 yards and just as I squeezed the trigger, he made a lunging movement and his back dropped and I hit him in the spine. I quickly reloaded and as soon as he stood up, put the second shot in his heart. Despite being upset with myself about my bad shooting, I was blown away by the size and beauty of this trophy!
After lunch and a power nap, we took another drive just to see what we could find. We came across large herds of tsessebe and golden wildebeest before finding a massive herd of blesbok, must have been 100 or more. We watched them for quite some time and easily figured out which ram was dominant in the herd. That was the easy part of this hunt. Getting into position for a decent shot was a challenge. After a lot of maneuvering and a little cursing we got to 425 yards, I didn’t allow enough for the wind and hit him too far back…gut shot. A few minutes later we got to 350 yards, and I was able to place a good shot through both shoulders. That little warrior was rutting hard and winning every battle he got mixed up in. Despite my shooting woes I had a terrific day and was able to take some beautiful animals. We popped open a couple of beers and sat on the tailgate and watched the sun set in the Eastern Cape, it was surreal.
Day 3: This morning was my first trip off the Huntershill property, as we traveled to a farm 30 mins away to hunt for kudu. We spent that morning glassing the mountainside, putting a long stalk in on one very nice bull that we determined to not be finished out. Later, I passed on fully mature bull that my PH said 99% of his hunters would shoot, but for some reason I never considered taking him, even though he was standing broadside at 200 yards. Wes estimated he was probably 46 inches, a fine bull for the Eastern Cape. However, we both agreed that he wasn’t the bull I was after, even if it meant I might not see one better during my hunt. That afternoon we went searching for the herd of buffalo we had seen the day before but did not locate them. We did come across a group of 7 bulls and were able to stalk within 60 yards, but they all needed another 2-3 years of seasoning. I gained valuable experience and had a lot of fun despite not finding the right buffalo.
Day 4: We set out for another farm roughly one hour from the lodge to hunt for kudu. The previous day a 53-inch bull was taken on the property. The farmer went along with us and was very nice, even offering me a heavier jacket to wear on this very cold morning. We were able to spot several good-looking young bulls and one exceptional bull that was finished, too bad he only had one horn.
Following the hunt, we headed south a few hours to the Huntershill property known as Rocklands. It was on this journey that I was introduced to biltong. We stopped in at the Avon Butchery in Fort Beaufort and Wes went behind the counter and hand selected the cuts for us. I am officially a huge fan of biltong and probably ate more than my fair share from the bag. When we pulled into the Rocklands the landscape reminded me of the Texas Hill Country and West Texas. For some reason I had a good feeling about this place, and I would soon find out why!
That afternoon we went to a nearby ranch that was known for producing some of the best Kudu in the area. We picked up Wes’ good friend Carl, who just happened to be the son of the farmer. We drove down to a citrus orchard to glass a ridgeline that extended off a big mountain. The mountain was supposedly a haven for big kudu. Also, one of the workers had spotted a monster close to the orchard that afternoon. We arrived just in time, we had been glassing for 15 mins and had seen several cows and a few nice bulls when my heart just stopped!! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! Walking toward us up the far slope to the top of the ridgeline was the most beautiful, majestic animal I had ever seen on the hoof. All you could see were his horns on the skyline and with every step they just got bigger and bigger until eventually his head and body were in view. This animal was the reason I came to Africa. He was the type of animal I had been dreaming about seeing all my life. At the same time as I said WOW, Wes and Carl started making sounds and words in Afrikaans that I can’t even explain, other than to say they were beside themselves. Wes uttered “my word that is a stove” while Carl remarked that he was a “rip-roarer.” What was more impressive than his size was just how beautiful he was, he had the perfect shape. His ivory tips just glistened in the late afternoon sun. Unfortunately, he was 700 yards away. He soon followed some cows down the backside of the ridge away from us and out of sight. Due to the recent rains, we could not pursue him because the Kat River ran between us. After some conversation, Wes and Carl had an idea. There was one more spot we could view him from, but it would be a 40 min drive and we only have 30 mins of light remaining. Wes claimed he could do it in 20 so we hopped in and took off…almost literally. 20 mins later we arrived on the top of a rock face overlooking the river, with a perfect view of backside of the ridge. We all laughed when Wes commented that Max Verstappen would’ve been jealous of his driving. We were able to spot him the stove, but he never broke 750 yards. We all agreed that we would be back in the orchard at daylight the next morning.
That night we had a fun opportunity, we were asked to go spotlight in an orchard to shoot duiker and bushbuck that were causing damage to the crop. We loaded up in the Landcruiser with Grant driving and Mark in the cab with him. I was in the high rack seat on the right and my buddy Jeff was on the left seat. Wes, Jason, and Carl were in the back with us. It was some adventure, I got closer than I ever wanted to get to a porcupine and I’m talking inches, not feet, yards, or meters. I was really hoping Jeff would get a shot at a bushbuck, he was unsuccessful on his first two safaris and wanted one bad. After driving on both ends of every single row without seeing anything, we had practically given up. With 2 rows to go Grant started to speed up when someone, not me, spotted a bushbuck. We turned around and slowly went back the direction we had come from. Row after row we slowly crept along until suddenly, we spotted the ram. He was on my side of the truck, so the rifle was handed to me, and I quickly took aim. While everyone was saying shoot, shoot, shoot, I could barely see the bushbuck in the scope because the parallax was way off. I had never even touched this rifle before and was trying to adjust the scope in the dark. What seemed like an eternity passed, it was probably just a couple of seconds, I got the scope just clear enough to see the body and he was facing directly away from me. With only a couple of feet or less between the citrus trees, the bushbuck turned his head and I put the crosshairs on his neck and squeezed, he fell in his tracks, roughly 100 yards. Now at this point I have never hunted bushbuck or even seen one in person. Now I suddenly have one on the ground! While I was excited, I felt a little bad that Jeff didn’t get to shoot at him instead. We all unloaded and headed down the row to retrieve him. I didn’t know it at the time, but evidently when everyone else was saying shoot, Wes was saying don’t shoot because he couldn’t see him. Wes was relieved when we got down there because he was a good ram and no one was more excited for me than Jeff, that’s a true friend. Pic was taken the next day.
Day 5: Needless to say, I didn’t sleep much. Wes, Carl, and I arrived back at the orchard right at first light. Wasn’t long after that we began to see the mountainside come alive with kudu. We could see three good shooter bulls, but there was no sign of the stove from the previous evening. One bull stood out as being better than the rest. He was funny looking because it looked like he had broken a shrub off and it was sitting on his head, green as it could be. At this point I was grateful to have an opportunity at this bull and we were setting up for a shot when we spotted “the stove.” Wes and I quickly ran to our left to get a better angle on him and found an opening and got the rifle up on the sticks. He was at 370 yards with a 5mph left to right wind. I only had a small opening for a shot as he had trees above and below him, to his left and to his right. A cow was standing below him, and her head was right in front of his shoulder. I just remember thinking for a split second that I practiced my whole life for this shot, make this the shot of your life, I felt so relaxed. I put the cross hairs at the top of his back and about 12 inches left and the second the cow moved off to the right to his hind quarter I let it fly. I know it sounds crazy, but I didn’t blink, and I saw the vapor trail for a flash. The bullet hit him hard, I saw him lower his head hard as I worked the bolt to reload, he stepped to his left, then I lost him. At that moment Wes and Carl started jumping up and down like kids saying he was down, he was dead!!! I unloaded the rifle and joined the celebration; I was in complete disbelief. Excluding watching my kids hunt, this was the one moment of my life as a hunter that I had dreamed about more than any other. The two great trophies I have always wanted were a kudu and an elk. Finally, I had fulfilled one of those dreams. After being congratulated on a great shot and a great animal, and many thanks to Wes for getting me set up and dialed in on him perfectly, one question had to be answered. Wes asked Carl how were we going to get to him? Carl’s response was in Afrikaans first and then English, “hope you wore boxers because we are going swimming!” We started by scaling the wobbly eight-foot fence surrounding the orchard. Then we slid 15 feet down to the river, took off boots and socks, carefully crossed through the swift current, and then crawled on all fours up the other bank. Next was crawling through 40 yards of thorns, then up the hill we went. Wes was first on the scene, he let out a holler that made me pick up my pace. Upon seeing this magnificent animal, he was even bigger in person than he looked through optics. No ground shrinkage here. I remember being somewhat somber out of respect for this great animal. He would feed many people and hold a place of honor in my home the rest of my life, with the story being retold countless times. If he would have been the only trophy I took in South Africa, this hunt would have still been beyond my wildest dreams! It took 10 of us three hours to get him carved up and across the river, but he was worth bit of effort.
DAY 6: After a good celebration the night before, I struggled out of bed just in time for breakfast. Mark, Jeff, and I were sipping on coffee when the PH’s spotted a large warthog from patio of the lodge. Immediately, Wes said let’s go Chris. I was totally unprepared. I ran to my room and exchanged my flip flops for hunting boots without bothering to tie the laces and we were off and literally running. I didn’t have a cap, was wearing glasses instead of contacts, wasn’t wearing a belt, and my binos were in the truck. I had not seen the warthog and assumed it must be close…wrong again. I must have looked like the most unprepared hunter of all time as I kept coming out of my untied boots and twice my pants fell to my knees, I had lost some weight following Wes around for a week. After 1100 yards, Wes set up the sticks and I got the rifle on them. He whispered for me to hurry and shoot before he runs, but I still hadn’t seen the thing. I scanned through the scope from 75 to 250 yards and couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t believe I didn’t see him, finally I asked how far out, he said 30 yards, I aimed lower and all I saw in the scope was warthog. He was facing us and quartered a little to the left, I put the crosshairs in front of his nearest shoulder and squeezed the trigger, good hit. After high fives we went to look for him, we didn’t think he would go far. There was no blood, not a single drop, we were concerned. After 5 mins of looking, Wes found him about 25 yards away. Not a single drop of blood anywhere, not even where he died or on his body.
After breakfast and a change into shorts we went searching for the elusive buffalo herds. I was armed with a .458 and Wes was backing me up with a .375. We stalked down to a low area around a pond with thick brush around it. There were no buffalo here, but Wes spotted another good warthog. He asked if I wanted to shoot another one, of course I said yes. Next, he told me we would do this like we were bow hunting, we would sneak up within 20 yards and I would shoot him off hand using the .375 with open sights. We snuck and crawled our way to the pond. The hog was feeding in shallow water, and I slipped out of the brush at 20 yards and shot him behind the shoulder, he went 20 yards and was done. Another fun stalk courtesy of Wes!
Day 7: We traveled south about an hour to another property that Wes could access to look for Nyala. We picked up his friend Luke at the farmhouse and literally within three minutes of driving we had a 27-inch Nyala bull appear in the road 50 yards in front of us. I was ready to get the rifle out and shoot him. He proceeded to run into the bush to our right and ended up 30 yards from the truck. Wes said we would pass because we had just arrived, and we would see many more good bulls. We hunted hard all day and only saw one other bull for about ten seconds. Wes was quite upset with himself for passing on the animal, or as he would say he was “touched.” I wasn’t bothered because the guy had been money on everything so far, I knew he would get me on another Nyala. Two positives from the day involved food. For lunch Wes made us one of the best sandwiches I have ever tasted. I would never have thought that warthog sausage, pickled jalapenos, and ketchup on a burger bun would be good, but it was amazing! On the way back to the lodge that night Wes stopped and picked up two pizzas he had ordered in Grahamstown. Let me tell you that the bacovian pizza is now my favorite. Bacon, feta cheese, and a slice of avocado…tasty!
Day 8: The hunt was on for buffalo. The herds at the Rocklands are notorious for being very difficult to locate, much less sneak up on. We parked ½ mile from the glassing point and walked carefully into the wind to the edge of a small ridge to glass below us into a valley. About 200 yards from the glassing point we could see a dust trail in the canyon below. Heading up the hill away from us was a large herd of buffalo running at full throttle. We didn’t think we had spooked them, but what else could have? We didn’t waste any time and set out after them. Two miles later we were able to sneak up a small ridge and onto a rock outcropping overlooking a drainage. On the far side of the dry creek bed the buffalo were slowly feeding downhill toward the bottom of a valley. Wes crept ahead to glass from behind thick brush and find a good bull. This was a herd of 30-40 buffalo, and they were very wary, so the tracker and I stayed back out of sight and quiet. Wes found an old bull with hard bosses and motioned me forward, he was all bloodied up from fighting. We looked and got on the same page and quietly got set up on the sticks. Just as I took the safety off, he told me to hold. The dominant bull stepped out and ran the other bull off. I got set up on the bigger bull and waited while Wes evaluated him. About this time, this wise fighter looks up right at me, only 80 yards away. Wes didn’t get the word shoot out of his mouth before I pulled the trigger on the .458 and hit him perfectly on the shoulder. As I reloaded, he darted to the right and then away from us about 30 yards, stumbled, and fell over backwards dead as a door nail. Surprisingly, no death bellow. Almost every video I had ever watched required multiple shots on these massive bulls. I could not believe I dropped him with one shot through the engine room. I was truly in awe at the size of this beast.
After getting the buffalo loaded up, we headed back to the Rocklands lodge for lunch when we ran into the biggest Impala we had seen on the trip. We put a stalk on but after 400 yards we lost sight and headed back to the truck. As we neared the vehicle we looked up and the Impala had doubled back and was 125 yards away facing us, quartered to the left. He was rutting hard and looking for a fight. I quickly got him in the scope and dropped him with one shot on the point of the shoulder. He had a massive body for an impala.
After lunch we loaded up and headed back to Huntershill. The Rocklands had been very good to me!!!
Day 9: This morning we decided to go on what was supposed to be a short stroll looking for fallow. Wes and I have different ideas on what constitutes a short stroll. Six miles later we had only seen a few young fallow. However, we did spot a 50+ inch kudu but didn’t get a shot. That evening we went back to the same area and ran into a massive fallow but ran out of daylight.
Day 10: Last day to hunt! I had to decide, go back after fallow or kudu at huntershill or make a three-hour drive towards the coast with hopes of finding Nyala. Off to the coast we went. We hunted until 11AM at the first location without seeing a single Nyala. The landowner was perplexed and showed us videos he had taken practically every morning, Nyala everywhere. We were running out of time, so we drove another couple of hours away to a spot only known as Location XY. As we pulled in the gate of this property I was beginning to wonder if we would find an nyala in time. Fortunately, I would soon realize this place was Nyala heaven. We saw 40-50 bulls the first 45 mins we were there. Finally, as we came out of some thick brush, we spotted an old Nyala bull with lots of character. As I quickly set up, he was headed for the thick bush, walking directly away from me, he was about to disappear. At the last second, he quartered to the left just enough for me to get a heart shot off. We walked up to where he was standing when I shot, and he was laying 25 yards away. He may not be the longest, but I love the fact he has great character. He was very old and had no teeth left. His body and coat were already showing signs of decline, he wouldn’t have survived more than a couple months.
I really don’t think my first safari could have gone any better than it did. Somehow, I was blessed to get everything on my list plus a blesbok and an extra warthog. Everything at Huntershill was fantastic. My PH, Wes Renken, was truly first class in every respect. He is a great PH and even better man. My friends Jeff and Mark had great hunts and took a lot of great trophies as well. I will always have great memories and trophies from this trip. Can’t wait to get back to Africa!
