This is actually my first day of the hunt. I have been traveling for what seems like forever to get here. I had left Santa Clara for Africa on Thursday August 16th and finally, 3 days later, I am here in the veld. It is so great to be back at Farm Garib with the Luhl Family. Our relationship is more than just hunting guides and a client, these fine people from the other side of the planet are good friends. When I arrived yesterday afternoon it was wonderful to see again Frauke, Hans Peter, Jule, and meet Sigi, Jule's husband, for the first time. I have traveled over 8 time zones and maybe 10,000 miles to this red sand desert and yet feel right at home here.
7:00 a.m. we are off to check the zero on our rifles at the family shooting range about 3 kilometers from the house. Everything seems to be OK after about three shots each at a target in the firearms department so we are off looking for quality game to hunt.
Ken is first up and he really wants to get a Kudu this trip. We drive on the farm roads and look all around for some time, maybe 3 - 4 hours. We stop and glass from atop several hills for kilometers in 360º fashion for just the right kudu bull. While driving around on the southeast end of the farm the trackers notice a large kudu bull laying under an acacia tree. The natural camouflage of the kudu makes him hard to spot. Hans Peter and I stay in the truck and the others get down to try a stalk. We drive the truck about 1.5 kilometers away and turn off the motor. While waiting we watch a watering hole about 500 yards to the west. A lone warthog comes in for a drink. He was rather small and we just enjoy the morning air, the birds, the big sky, and the warthog. After 15 minutes or so we hear a shot, then a couple of more shots. I think Ken has something going on. Hans Peter and I wait and look toward where the shots sounded. A tracker named Frans comes out of the heavy brush to the road where we had come in and waves us over. We start the truck and drive to the Frans' waving spot and follow the tracker on a semi-cleared path to where Ken has his kudu bull down. It is a big nice bull and really old. He measures 53" and is aged to be around 15 years old. Some of his teeth are worn out completely. A great trophy. Ken will post more on his own for this hunt. We take photos, gut the animal in the wild {something I've never seen done in Africa}, and take the beast back to the farm house to cool the meat. Kudu meat is excellent by the way.
It is lunch time and we dine on oryx backstrap, boiled potatoes, gravy, and fresh green salad. Maybe one of the reasons I like this place is the food is always delicious. After lunch we have a short nap and wake up to gooseberry tort, biltong, and coffee or diet coke at 2:30 p.m. Then we are out to hunt for my turn. I am looking for a trophy oryx or warthog.
We drive to the north end of the farm for 20 minutes or so and then start to scan for oryx. There are some rugged foothills around and my son had taken a large kudu in the same area in 2010. Sigi is telling us stories about the hunt and various hunters he has guided. He is really a character and so entertaining. We were seeing lots of oryx but no trophy caliber ones. Oryx are in groups of 3 to 6 members and when we would put glass on them they are just not that big, reasonable but not BIG. As we drive to the west on a farm road I spot a lone oryx on the hillside to the north. He seems really big to me. Maybe he seems big because he is all by himself and there are no other oryx to compare him to? I tell Sigi to check him out. Sigi signals to stop the truck. I ask "Is that a big one?" Sigi says, "Yes, that is about as big as they get around here." I ask if I can shoot from the truck or near the truck. My heart condition is limiting me from doing a lot of hiking. Sigi says there are no other oryx around and given that I have a bad heart he can "close one eye for now." Sigi really doesn't like to shoot from around the truck as the animals get truck shy and scatter when they see the truck coming. I completely understand and that is why I had asked permission.
I laser range the oryx at 208 yards and Sigi says there is a branch in the way at the oryx's heart line. I should aim abit high. I take careful aim on the oryx standing broadside sighting straight up the his left front leg to about 8" into the chest cavity and flip off the safety. I place my finger on the trigger and hold my breath. My heart is pounding, even more that usual. I am surprised when the rifle goes off and the unmistakable sound of "plop" is heard by all as the bullet finds its mark on the oryx. I watch through the scope and chamber another round. The oryx takes about two steps up the hill and falls over. I am so excited. We give the old bull some time to expire and then hike over to the hillside to check him out. My .338 Win. Mag. 225 gr. Barnes tipped triple shock bullet had entered his chest cavity just about exactly where I was aiming. I can see the bullet under the skin on the far side of the oryx, it is still in there. We do the Vikeman's Hiel ritual and I give the oryx his last bite. I am grateful for the oryx and the many circumstances that have brought me back to Africa again. I feel so blessed to be able physically to get out and do financially do what I am doing.
Location: South 21º04.456' East 17º43.775' elevation 4,760
We all 5 load the oryx into the truck and take him back to the processing area on Farm. I have the oryx weighed and he is 338.5 kgs. or about 498 pounds. I think he will measure around 37" of horn. I am way pleased.
This has been a good day.
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