HUNTING FOR MULE DEER 2016

Mule deer hunting in November with a rifle during the start of the rut is way fun.  There are lonesome bucks around all the small groups of does with fawns and the bucks are rather preoccupied.  They don't seem to give a "buck snort" for humans in the area.  I have never done this before and feel fortunate to have had the opportunity at least once in my hunting career.  I had about 5 bonus points for mule deer hunting and I applied for a CWMU {Cooperative Wildlife Management Unit} tag via the State of Utah drawing process.  I drew the tag in late summer and really didn't know what I had.  My son called to congratulate me.  He is a professional wildlife biologist had a lots better appreciation for my good fortune in tag drawing.  We made plans to go hunt together in the late fall.  I love it when he comes.  His eyes are younger and sharper, he is great at cleaning, packing, and handling the downed game, he is a great conversationalist, and he is an excellent camp cook. Not to mention he is one of my sons and I love my boys with all my heart.

I took my camping/hunting trailer to N39º41.368 and W109º39.883 on October 31, 2016 and we set up camp.  On the dirt road journey into the camping spot we saw several bucks along the side of the less than perfect dirt road we were traveling.  They were watching us but they didn't run away and hide.  I was getting really excited.  The bucks we saw were kind of smallish -- 2x2's and 2x3's mostly.  I did see one 3x4 that had an impressive rack and was rather mature.  I was starting to scratch my trigger finger.

Camp was great. We had stopped at WalMart in Vernal, Utah and bought some important supplies.  I came out of the store with fixings for great meals for 4 or 5 days.  Dax is always thinking ahead.  I usually eat ramen noodles and MRE's when I hunt alone.  The first night in the camper we had shrimp with alfredo sauce over garden pasta with a crusty french bread.  Flan for dessert.  The meal was great.  I learned the shrimp idea from my son and his pal Clint S.  They like to start a new tradition of having shrimp on the first night of a hunting camp.

Tuesday, November 1, 2016 we were off early to hunt for the BIG ONE.  We almost immediately saw several mule deer bucks in various groups following dozens of does as we had the day before on the drive into the area. We saw two young bucks, 2x2's, butting heads and sparing with each other.  We saw a couple of 2x2's bucks that were all alone and wondering "What are these strange sensations I have?"  "Why do I want to smell the does and then get near to them?" We saw a mature buck with rack full of character a 6x7 or so and he was chasing a hot doe.  We watched him for a few minutes and decided it was just the first morning and there are probably others that are even bigger around if we continue to scout for them.  We drove on looking for the best big old boy we could find.  We did see other deer.  Some of the bucks were nice.  I took my rifle out of the case and put the crosshairs on a couple of them but never pulled the trigger.  We saw two coyotes late in the afternoon and I wanted to shoot the walking $50 bills* but I didn't want to scare off any potential big bucks so I held back.  We saw an extremely large badger moving quickly over a short mountain near us.  We watched him go up and over post haste. The badger was maybe as big as a doe mule deer yet with shorter legs.  Finally at dark we went back to camp and had another great meal.  To sleep early as we were hunting and would get up early.  All in all, a great day with my son hunting.  Lots of game and really uniquely spectacular scenery.  The geological formations were very interesting and beautiful in the sunset lighting.

Wednesday, November 2, 2016 we were up early, hot chocolate and a cinnamon raisin bagel then off to hunt.  I had been thinking about the 6x7 buck we saw the day before and I told my son if we see him again I want to shoot at him.  He is kind of special with all the trash points on his rack.  My son agreed and said "It's your tag".  We drove toward the east from camp and came across four fellows in a Yukon just out looking at deer.  They were not hunting, they were just taking photos.  As we passed in the road the driver motioned us to stop.  My son was driving and the two drivers started to talk. They could see my orange vest and the Yukon guys knew I was hunting.  They said they had seen a 6x7 that was way "cool" and I should be on the look out for it.  My son told them we had seen the buck the day before and we were looking for it again.  The Yukon scouts told us to go look near a oil drilling well pad up the road where they had seen it about an hour earlier.  They wished us well and good luck.  We started out towards the direction indicated.

Eventually arriving at the well pad area we saw several does and fawns {like over 20 head}.  There were no bucks to be seen.  We scouted around and then got out the glass.  We glassed for sometime without results.  The bucks seemed to be at a "convention" somewhere other than here. We drove south a mile or so and continued to glass without success.  It was still early and I was sure we would eventually see some type of buck as there were so many does around the general area.  We started to retrace our path back towards the oil well pad and my son saw Mr. Wonderful.  He was keeping a low profile and just out of the junipers moving east away from us at about 250 yards.  We quickly walked towards him to get a better look.  We used some lone junipers to walk behind to shield us from the buck's line sight.  We worked our way to as close as we could while still behind the juniper screen.  We both looked out from behind the last large juniper tree, Dax on one side me on the other, at the buck that was now 165 yards away. I said "That's him I am going to shoot."  I worked the bolt on my .300 Win. Mag. and took a sight picture in a standing position. Not my best position for accurate shooting.  I pressed the trigger and shot high.  {I will now call that my "warning shot"}.  I shot high enough the buck didn't really run fast away.  He continued to move to the east and some north.  I sat down in the sage brush and using my knees a rests I held my rifle on the buck's vitals from a quartering away angle.  I figured the bullet would take out his liver and also his lungs at this range.  I pressed the trigger ever so gently and the rifle boomed and the buck jumped and he was done.  He took maybe 10 steps north east and fell over in the junipers.

It took us a moment to recognize all that had happened in just a few short minutes.  We located the big buck and stalked him and shot him in about 4 or 5 minutes.  That is how it happens many times when hunting. You look for hours and days then when the moment comes it all happens so fast.  I am so thankful for my son and the opportunity to be with him on this special hunt.  We went over and took some photos.  Then we drove the truck as close as we could and loaded him on the back for transport to camp.  What a great hunt!  I have been blessed so much from Heaven.  I have enough health to go hunting, enough luck to draw a tag, and sons who like to be with me in the field.

{The meat is not bad either.}  *Utah has a $50 bounty on coyotes taken in deer areas.

CHIZZLER REVENGE . . .

I found this news article and thought it a reasonable warning for people traveling through chizzler infested areas of our country. Be warned ISIS isn't the only danger out there.

PONDERING THE FUTURE AND REMEMBERING THE PAST

I am just worn out. Been working way too hard for such an old man.  Tearing out the  carport for my son and then will build a garage to protect him and the little rascals from the snow and cold in the coming winter months.  Had a great meal (thanks to my dear daughter-in-law), welcome shower, and resting of course my mind wonders off to hunting.  I am going to elk camp this weekend with my grandson.  He has the tag, his dad and I have the "fever" so we must take him and help him find an elk on the special youth hunt tag he drew.  The fall season in the quakies at 8,000+ feet elevation and the cool air is just invigorating.  Then when you hear an elk bugle it all turns to magic in the mountains.

I also am thinking about hunting chizzlers in Iron County, Utah.  I found a photo of Fred and Mabel Chizzler as they have their last kiss before the long winter's nap.  I wonder which will be the first to come out in the early spring and smile at me in my cross-haired viewfinder.  You know what I mean. . . .

LAST HUNTING DAY IN NAMIBIA 2016

Up at 6:40 a.m. -- breakfast of scrambled eggs (the chickens are no longer on strike), 5 pound bread, banana and out to hunt with Hans Peter my dear old friend.  He is a great guide and he is even better friend.  Sigi the primary P.H. has to repair an electric water pump so he had his other Guide/P.H./Father-In-Law go with us today.  I love it.

We make a big circle around the farm in the truck looking for any thing we might have missed in days earlier.  We cover lots of pastures and camps and pans and watering areas and see a multitude of game.  I am still in the mood to take a warthog and/or an oryx.  Dax is ready for almost anything we can find.  Hans Peter takes us to a high point where we can see some oryx and kudu grazing in the distance with our binoculars. They are about 2 kilometers away in a lower part of the hilly section we are in.  We calculate a stalk and work our way to within reasonable range.  The kudu have grazed off and are out of sight.  The oryx are grazing back and forth across a two track road. 

The oryx have trees on both sides of the two track and can easily get invisible in the dense brush and trees within one step from either side of the road way.  There is a fence on the right hand side of the road way as we look down the semi-"tunnel" in the trees concurrent with the two track road.  Peter says we can set up on the sticks here and wait for a good meat oryx to come out.  The wind is cross wise and I worry it will change or swirl and poof -- the oryx are gone.  I am in position on the sticks and watching as oryx come under the fence and across the two track road.  They seem to move quickly across the road.  I laser the distance and it is 180 yards to the place where the oryx are most actively moving.  The oryx seem to cross the road from the fence to the cover of the brush in about one to two seconds.  I tell Hans Peter I need to know in advance if the oryx coming is going to be a shooter.  He says he will tell me and is watching from a different angle behind me to my right as the oryx come one by one up to the fence and go under.  He tells me wait not this one too small, not this one, and finally after 5 or 6 oryx come and go so quickly he says the next one is a strong one.  I am ready and I see the beautiful multicolored head and horns come into the road way.  The bull oryx is walking briskly to my left across the road.  I take aim at his heart and press the trigger on the .338 Win. Mag.  The boom of the rifle going off is magnified by the tunnel effect of the trees.  The oryx jumps and disappears in the trees on the left side of the road.  Dax says did you hit him?  I say lets go see.  I really had such a short window of aim and trigger control I have my doubts.  I do remember hearing the slap of the bullet hit something though.  I have Dax go up 35 yards or so on the small hill to the left so he can see if the oryx is wounded and limping away from a higher vantage point.  Dax can finish him if he is trying to get away.

Tobis and I go down the road quickly to where the oryx disappeared into the thick brush and trees and we find blood.  A very good sign.  I walk about 10 yards to the left of where we found blood and there he is -- almost dead.  I shoot another round through his lungs and it is over.  Dax comes to us at the shot.  Dax pays me a big compliment and says "I don't think I could have made that first shot dad."  I am more than please with this whole oryx adventure.   We take some photos and congratulate each other on another successful hunt.  Waidmannsheil, etc.  Peter is really a pal. 

Location 23º05.211 S 17º38.104 E

Darth Maul and Dax's rifle both Ruger .338 Win. Mag.

Where it all happened

We load up the oryx and head back to the main farm house to eat lunch.  Lunch is a springbok roast in pan sauce gravy, baked potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower, and tossed salad.  Chocolate pudding for dessert.  Food is excellent as usual.  After lunch I go for a 50 minute nap.

After the nap and the coffee break we head over to the Valley of Death area.  We see some oryx, springbok, and two kudu bulls.  Nothing to shoot at though as they are all younger animals.  We drive to various locales and Dax with Hans Peter go on a kudu stalk but don't find a suitable animal.  We travel more to the east and see what we think are wildebeest.  Craig and Tobis go for a stalk on them as the sun is going down.  It gets dark real fast in Namibia.  As Tobis and I get close to the wildebeest the darkness has enveloped us all, maybe 250 yards.  Dax and Hans Peter can see us due to their angle and Dax is using his laser range finder to calculate how close we get to the wildebeest before we shoot.  Tobis and I get very close, like 100 yards, and Tobis says can you shoot now.  I look through my scope and can't pick out an aiming point on the larger of the two wildebeest it is so dark.  Tobis and I take note of the wind and stalk even closer.  I try to see to shoot and it is just so dark all I can see is black with hints of light in the upper half in my scope.  Tobis is not mad just sincere in his desire to get me a shot so we stalk even closer.  I laser the animals and we are 38.7 yards from the wildebeest and I still cannot get a sight picture on the game.  I tell Tobis it is just too dark and I don't want to wound one.  I respect the game too much to try a blind shot.  There is no heavenly light due to hardly any moon light and significant cloud cover.  I have to use my flash light to walk safely back to Dax and Hans Peter.  Dax and Hans Peter had watched the whole stalk from about 1000 yards and were surprised I didn't shoot.  We got a big laugh together when I didn't shoot.  I guess I am getting very old.  I think Tobis could see well enough, I however was "in the dark".

We head back to the farm house for dinner.  Dinner is sausages, ham, cheeses, great breads, water, olives, and lots of jokes.  We sit around the fire and tell jokes for some time.

Frauke is back at Farm Garib and we all get together at the main house to watch Germany play France in the Eurocup soccer tournament.  I meet Heinrick and Uma the son and daughter-in-law of Hans Peter and Frauke.  They are really nice people too.  I go off to bed at half time.

Wed. 8 July 2016 we are to head home.  In the morning Dax and I offer to make chocolate eclairs for the host group before we leave to the airport.  They have never had eclairs so we get after it and make a fine batch of eclairs with home made custard filling and chocolate topping fabricated from chocolate chips and yogurt and a small shot of Tabasco.

Work in progress

All in all I have had another wonderful trip to Namibia.  Great friends, great food, and lots of game.  I am totally satisfied.  I wonder when I will be back to hunt on Farm Garib or with Sigi again?  Soon I hope.  These are great people.

LOTS OF HUNTING, NO HARVESTING . . . THEN A PARTY

We get up early as usual.  Breakfast at 7 a.m. is a banana, 4 pieces of toast and out to hunt.  No scrambled eggs today as Farm Garib is all out.  The chickens are not obliging.  There is not a store within 20 kilometers to buy some, so we eat what we have available.  Sigi is not big on breakfast anyway.  He usually just has coffee while we eat.  He has so much energy -- great for a P.H. 

We are looking for the broken horned kudu with the bad leg.  We journey through the farm to where we saw it last, in the Valley of Death.  I have taken a trophy springbok over there, and Dax has taken a blue wildebeest as well.  We set up on the different hill sides and watch the entire valley for possible animals.  Dax, Sigi, and Tobis go on a marathon stalk  clear across the valley to the mountains on the other side.  I watch for anything that kicks out in front of them in the veld.  Some springbok and oryx are running around but I don't see any kudu or wildebeest.  I was kind of hoping to see a blue wildebeest and I would go after it.

Dax and Sigi get on to a trophy kudu bull.  They chase it back and forth between the tall brush, short trees, and various swells in the ground with little hideout ravines.  The bull makes its way to the boundary fence of Farm Garib and jumps on to the next farm southwards.  Sigi has no hunting rights on that particular farm so the trio turns around and head back toward me.  I think they are at least two miles away. 

Out of nowhere a reasonable oryx bull starts to run.  He must have been excited by the kudu bull running and jumping the fence so he starts to run with fervor yet no real reason.  He runs directly toward Dax and Sigi.  Sigi says to Dax to take him for meat and Dax is happy to agree.  The oryx runs almost directly toward Dax and he later says he shot it in "self-defense."  One .338 Win. Mag. round and it is down.  The hunters are so far away I don't even hear the shot while watching for animals on my assigned hill top.  They photo the event and clean and quarter the animal.  Oryx is extremely good meat and we are all excited to have more of it.  It is a nice representative bull but not really a mountable trophy.

Approx. location 23º12.748 S 17º37.874 E

Tobis is sent to get me and the truck and hikes all the way back.  Too bad we didn't have radios and I could have driven over with a lat. and long. directions to go for.  Even with four of us it is lots of hot work to get the meat out.  On the hike out with the meat Dax finds some juvenile kudu horns and skull.  It is of an animal that was killed or died in the same canyon as the oryx a long time before.

Leopard or Cheetah lunch horns

Back to main farm house late as we have been packing out oryx meat.  Lunch is rice and springbok straganoff.  Delicious.  I know we are working pretty hard to get the game and pack it out.  We are very hungry most afternoons and the food is really first rate here.  I am way impressed with how good it all tastes and how it is prepared using local and natural ingredients.  {I could really get used to being around here and living like this.}  We all go for a short nap then back to the patio for coffee at 4 p.m.

We go pick up the trail camera from the leopard kill on the calf.  The photos reveal a female cat.   Dang, if it were a male Sigi could get a tag from the local national biologist and charge some hunter $10,000 for the opportunity to hunt a big tom.  We go back to Farm Garib and prep to visit the other P.H.'s and have the "hunter's campfire" we were invited to.  Leaving as the sunsets we travel across Farm Garib and the main road then enter the other farm.  It takes us about 20 minutes to get there.

When we arrive at the other farm, Farm Girib (jackal) I am introduced to several fellows.  The are all really kind to me and Dax.  My son and I are the only non-professionals there.  I will list their names with the photos below. 

Volker Ahrens, Herman Jonker, Gernot Ahrens, Dax, Ronnie Roland, Sigi Hess

These guys stay up late, have a few toasts, and joke and relate stories of hunting from the perspective of a P.H.  I am just amazed at the years of experience seated around the table.  We are eating warthog chops cooked over a bar-b-que grill.  The food is great and the conversation is fabulous.  Ronnie Roland* takes a shine to me and starts to give me advice on hunting, women, and politics.  He goes on and on for over an hour.  I am totally entertained.  He is really a character.  You can't help but like the guy.  We mount up in the pickup truck and start for the bunkhouse, Sigi has ask me to drive.  I say, "OK, if you tell me where to go."  It is now quite dark and we are 20 minutes from the comfort of my bed through a variety of fences on dirt roads.  I drive very carefully and we arrive back home again jiggity, jigg.  Great evening!

*Ronnie was the president of the Professional Hunter's Association.  He is a publish author and really a hoot.  Google his name and check out some of his links.

HARTEBEEST BEFORE SUNDOWN . . .

We had a brief nap after the zebra steak feast.  I was so hungry and it tasted so good, I just kept after it.  I had breakfast at around 6:30 a.m.  Lunch of zebra filet cooked over open fire at 2 p.m. after walking and hunting all morning it was wonderful.  I was hurting and in heaven at the same time, kind of neat place to be.

We saddled up in the trusty Toyota and we went out after something before sundown, leaving the main house around 4 p.m.  We were traveling along on a rather bumpy road on the east side of the farm and we saw a small herd of hartebeest.  We had been after hartebeest already this week but had been busted by scent on two occasions.  Sigi parked the truck behind some big bushes and we went into stealth mode.  I even tried to breathe lightly so as not to cloud the air with a predators' zebra breath.  We were busted on our first stalk but on the second one we got to within 260 yards.  I put up my bi-pod and sat down for steady shooting.  I waited for Sigi to tell me which one and he told me to take an older meat cow.  I held steady with the crosshairs about 4 inches above where I wanted the bullet to strike.  I pressed the trigger on my .338WM and bam -- instant hartebeest on the ground.  She dropped to the shot and I quickly reloaded and was waiting for her to try and get back up.  She wriggled some and Sigi said hit it again.  I promptly shot it again in the chest cavity.  It was down for the biltong count.

location 23º12.211' S 17º44.538' E

SIDE NOTE:  Just to remind everyone biltong is dried meat that is absolutely delicious.  It has coriander seed and pepper on it with very little salt.  It is cured in the air like jerky but not near as salty nor half as tough and chewy.  I really like biltong and am glad to have it whenever anyone offers.  It is more like a portable meal than a snack.

biltong being dried

We take photos and head back to the Farm Garib.  We are treated to a fire in the fire pit , good conversation, dinner of springbok medallions, macaroni, gravy, green beans, and pudding.  Nice to visit with Sigi over dinner.  Man am I tired.  I don't think I will be able to get up tomorrow with out the assistance of the paramedics and their heart shocking machine, "all clear" . . . .  To put it like Sigi, "I sleep like a nail" whatever that means?

ZEBRA HUNTING ! ! !

Craig, Dax, Tobis, Simpson, Sigi and zebra

We are up very early, 4:35 a.m., sleepily dress and stagger out to the truck and leave for another hunting farm about 1 1/2 hours drive away.  It is at a higher elevation and has mountain zebra on it.  Sigi is friends with the owner as they went to school together and hunted from their teen years together on various farms where they could get permission.  It seems to be a universal truth that hunters take care of each other when it comes to hunting.  Dax and Tobis hunker down in the back of the Toyota pickup with a blanket each.  We drive through the darkness for quite some time.  We finally arrive at the turn off and the sun is just starting to poke its head over the horizon.  We bounce up the dirt road to the farm house and there are local fellows working already around the barns and equipment with jackets on.  We greet them in English.  They mostly nod to acknowledge us as I doubt they speak much English.  The dogs sound the alarm that someone new was in the yard and the farm owner comes out to say hello, his name is Reiner.  He is a tall very German looking man about 35 - 40 years old.  He sees Sigi and breaks into a big smile.  He introduces himself to us and gives us a hearty handshake.  We are invited into his home and seated at the family breakfast table.  We are asked if we want any eggs?  I say sure if they are on the menu.  Dax and I both have scrambled eggs, bacon, and toasted bread for breakfast.  I meet the Mrs. (Veepa is how her name is pronounced, she says it is very German) and the two boys ages 3 and 1.  They are a fine little family living in the country side of Namibia.  Reiner assigns a tracker to help us from his farm.  He can help us locate a zebra and stalk best as he already knows the lay of the land, his name is Simpson.  I don't know if that is his first name or last name I just shake his hand and am glad he is here to show us around.

The five of us drive to a hill top maybe a mile from the house and glass 360º for some time.  This farm is much different than Farm Garib with lots of hills and deep ravines and lots more trees.  Sigi and Simpson see some zebra like animals about 3 to 4 miles off in the distance easterly.  We load up in the truck and head that way.  We make our way past a fairly large reservoir full of water.  There are animals tracks all around -- cattle of course, but also kudu, oryx, hartebeest, springbok, zebra, baboon, and lots of others with some birds.  Water is a valuable factor of life here in the desert.  We park the truck and decide to make an investigatory stalk toward where the zebra like animals were seen.  There are blue wildebeest on the farm and in the distance and at the early hour our animals might be just that and not zebra.  We decided for greatest stealth we will walk down the dry drainage bottom below the reservoir.  The steep canyon walls are about 50 feet high all along the ravine cut by water when the rains overflow the dam.  We walk down the drainage and can't really see anything more than 30 yards up and 50 yards in front of us.  We really are depending on "luck" that the animals seen are indeed zebra and that we don't exit the canyon too soon or too late to try for a shot at one.  We walk along and are all trying to be as quiet as possible.  We really are not making much noise for 5 men walking in grass on rocks.  Our scent is kind of trapped in the ravine and this is to our advantage.  We walk for some time and my GPS says we are about 1 mile from the truck.  (Remember I am taking GPS shots when ever we move away from the truck as I don't want to be semi-lost again and have to shoot another acacia tree.)  Dax, Sigi, and Simpson work their way further down the wash another 3/10ths of a mile and gently climb up the north side of the canyon.  When they get up on top they hope to see a zebra group with one suitable for hunting.  As they crest the ravine wall top they see the zebra had moved over to the south side of the wash.  Joke is on us.  The three hunters move quickly and quietly to the bottom of the ravine and then scale the south side of the canyon.  It is only about 20 yards up but very steep.  As they emerge the ravine Dax and Sigi target a nice zebra.  Dax is told to wait for a broadside presentation and he does as he is told.  The zebra walks away from them but not fast.  It is maybe 150 yards and stops to look around.  Dax has his opportunity and squeezes off a great shot.  The Barnes 225 gr. 338" tipped triple shock bullet enters just behind the front leg and exits the other side more or less on a straight line.  Dax quickly reloads and readies to take another shot as the zebra has not fallen or faltered at his first shot.  Sigi grabs his arm and tells him to WAIT.  Then the zebra staggers back toward the hunters and falls over mortally wounded.  Sigi reminds us the hide is the major trophy of the zebra and less holes is better.

I hear the shot and jog to where the hunters are gathering.  It is a grand zebra.  The hide is not chewed up nor gouged yet it is a big animal and very healthy.  We set up the zebra for photos and we are all very glad to have found and harvested such a good specimen.

location 22º39.951' S 17º27.407' E

We are 1.3 miles from the truck according to my GPS.  Sigi makes his way back to the truck.  Tobis and Simpson start the skinning and gutting process.  They remove the skin entirely before they prepare the meat for harvest.  They are so careful to not knick the hide or make any unnecessary holes in it.  It comes off beautifully.  Then they gut the animal and quarter it.  Sigi has brought the truck to within 150 yards on the other side of the ravine.  We each take a quarter or some part and start toward the truck with the meat.  Dax is impressive with his "Badlands" pack and the ability it has to pack meat.  Sigi comments as much.

Badlands pack works on zebra quarter as well as elk or deer

We get all the meat loaded and head back to the farm house.  Reiner and his family get all the meat as part of the arrangement.  Sigi talks him into letting us keep a filet from the tenderloins.  Sigi says we will eat it this afternoon and it is great.  I am surprised as I thought it had to age some for best flavor.  Sigi says eland and zebra are great right after they are downed.  Other animals do indeed have to age some to peak flavor.

We travel back to Farm Garib and stop for fuel at Dordibus, the small town closest to Farm Garib. Funny to me the convenience store is closed from 12:30 p.m. to 3 p.m. for lunch.  In the USA it would be the best time of the day for sales.  Gas is available even though the store is closed.  As we leave the fuel stop the grade school has just let out for the day.  Several of the students are in the road and stop us for a ride to their little cluster of homes.  It is only a couple of kilometers but they want a ride.  Sigi says OK, hop in.  They climb the racks on the bed of the truck and are in the back of the truck lickety split.  Dax is riding in the back on the shooting benches and offers the kids a Swedish fish candy from his pocket.  They have never seen one before and they don't know what to do with it.  After all it is a fish and they live in the desert so fish is talked about but not seen hardly at all.  Tobis tells them it is candy in their native language and immediately the fish disappear.  They are all smiles.  They have hit the jackpot today -- a ride home and candy to boot.

We drive on to Farm Garib and I see a really big warthog on the side of the road.  He is big as a cow it seems.  We can't shoot from the road nor is the land anyone who Sigi knows so we just watch as the huge animal works his way under the fence.  There are baboons all along the road looking for food and human trash.  They seem to have no fear of us in the truck.

We unload our gear and the zebra hide.  Sigi makes an acacia wood fire in the fire pit and gets some hot coals as well as a bit of flame going for our zebra filet.  Sigi does not salt or pepper the meat and once the cooking disk is hot enough he adds some vegetable oil and starts to cook the filet.  We watch closely with hunger and education in mind as both Dax and I are cooks to some degree.  We need to learn this new technique.  We wait with a bit of apprehension about the freshly taken zebra but after the first bite it is easy to understand why Sigi was so excited to get a filet.  The meat is extra delicious.  Sigi likes it a bit rare for my taste but he cooks Dax and I some to a medium well tenderness.  It is one of those meals I will never forget.  I am actually starving and the meat is new and different.  It is delicious -- just take my word for it. The filet weighed about 5-6 pounds and there was no fat or silver-skin on it.  Sigi, Dax, and I ate the entire piece of meat.  It was so good we all just kept going back for one more piece until it was all gone.  We had some bread and swiss cheese but mostly all we ate was meat!  I guess you could say I am no where near a vegetarian.  Actually I am hoping for a repeat of this again someday.

Zebra filet on a re-purposed farming disk

USA INDEPENDENCE DAY in Namibia

Monday 4 July 2016  USA Independence Day

Up at 6 a.m. breakfast same as usual -- 5 pound bread, jelly, cheeses, scrambled eggs real good.

We are starting the day hunting near where we have taken the blue wildebeest and my trophy springbok.  Early in the hunt and we see a leg injured kudu with broken horn on his left side.  Sigi says to shoot it but we can't get a clear shot.  It is limping around in the tall brush and we actually run to get a shot in a higher location.  The kudu runs off to the east through the tall brush and small trees and we track him at high speed at first and then slowly for about 2.5 kilometers in the dense veld.  We can't see more than 40 yards around us at times but we continue on tracking and looking for opportunity to put down the injured animal.  I am rather tired at times am pressed to keep up.  I am not in very good shape.  I am old, lazy, and recovering from a battle with radiation and chemo-therapy.  I wait and watch lots on the long stalk feeling real "old".  Sigi is using his dog to smell the animal lots.  We also are constantly looking for tracks in the soft red sand of the Kalahari Desert.  We get to within 60 yards of the injured kudu and he busts us.  He takes off as fast as his injured legs can carry him, which is way fast, to the west.  He is gone this time.  Sigi sends Tobis the tracker to get the truck and we hike to the road just 1/2 mile south of us to meet the truck. 

Back to the ranch house for lunch.  Lunch is potatoes cut like french fries and baked in the oven, baked banana type squash, springbok meat with a light creamy gravy over the fries and meat.  Tossed salad with cherry tomatoes and cucumbers then dessert is lemon pudding.  The food here is great.  Best hunting camp food since my son and his pal tried to out cook each other on top of a mountain while looking for elk in October 2014.  Janne the oldest son of Sigi is at lunch and wants in on the lemon pudding.  I show him the pudding bowl is almost empty and I grab the serving spoon and pretend to start to eat all the remaining pudding.  He is a cute little manipulator and I end up giving him all the remaining pudding in the serving bowl.  Heck, it is his house and he wants it -- so why not?  We have a rest for about one hour and then back for cookies and diet coke on the patio. 

We are off for more game at 2:45 p.m. sitting in the back of the truck on the hunting benches with our rifles in soft gun cases in the lumber rack type carrier.  As we drive south from the main house we see about 40 to 50 baboons of all sizes run across the road from east to west.  There are lots of baby baboons in the troop.  We stop right in the middle of the main gravel road to and from Farm Garib and Sigi calls out from the drivers seat  asking me if I can shoot one of those baboons?  He tells me to shoot the big one bring up the rear of the crossing troop.  I stand up, grab my rifle from the case, open the bolt and chamber a round.  I take quick aim at the loping baboon rear guard and fire a round.  The baboon rolls over about 75 yards away.  Sigi gets out of the truck and looks me in the eye, then in his best Texas accent says, "Niiice shootin..."  I laugh to realize Sigi also speaks Texan.  The baboon was moving pretty fast yet I was lucky enough to nail him in the chest and roll him over with the impact of the .338 Win. Mag. round.  We drive over and examine the animal.  He is really a big one and not real old but not young either.  He has seemingly really large canine teeth and is a bit scary even though he is dead.  Sigi tries to scare his dog with the dead baboon.  Sigi lost a dog to a large baboon recently.  The baboon grabbed the dog and bit half his face off.  The dog died a painful death bleeding to death.  Tobis takes the head for my skull mount trophy and we leave the carcass for the jackals and to scare off other baboons.  Baboons should not be so comfortable near the house and cattle.

location 23º08.190' S 17º28.497' E

We drive to the east for just a short distance and we see a warthog grazing in the tall grass off to the south.  We just drive on by and stop near some trees about 1500 yards further east.  Dax and Sigi get down and make a wide looping south stalk on the warthog.  Tobis and I wait in the truck and watch with binos not to make additional scent or noise while they are on the hunt.  They take some time to play the wind to their advantage.  The warthog has poor eyesight but a nose that knows.  He also can hear rather well so they need to be quiet as they sneak up on the old bruiser.  Sigi puts up the sticks and Dax waits while holding a sight picture for a broadside presentation for his shot.  Finally, after about 3 to 4 minutes the shot rings out.  Tobis and I jump down and head over to where the warthog was last seen.  Dax and Sigi are also approaching the spot quickly from a southeastern direction.  As we arrive at the intended location we see Dax and Sigi posing the warthog for photos.  Waidmannshiel! Congratulations are in order.  Dax has a nice one down.  I am amazed to think we have two animals harvested in just a few kilometers and 45 minutes from the main house.  We take photos and load the pig.

location 23º07.660' S 17º38.436' E

We continue on the hunt.  We still head east and occasionally turn to the north for short distances.  We see various animals but nothing note worthy.  Then some oryx catch our eye.  On further examination we see there is another nice warthog  between us and the oryx.  We stalk on the warthog.  I want one and it is my turn.  Sigi and I go alone about 1,000 yards from the truck and keep some taller bushes between us and the unknowing warthog for cover.  Sigi puts up the sticks and I take a shooting position.  I am steady and the warthog does not know we are on him.  He is rooting around and eating ants and fresh green grass.  Sigi says wait for a broadside shot.  I wait and I wait and I wait.  The hog never turns broadside.  The warthog is only about 140 yards away and it is a do-able shot.  I can't seem to wait any more so I take a quartering toward us shot on the chest cavity of the warthog.  The warthog runs almost at light-speed north and east I take another running shot but it is 200+ yards away, I miss and he is gone.  The whole event takes place in a matter of seconds after waiting for many minutes for just the right shot.  Sigi is rather unhappy with me.  One, for missing.  Two, for not taking a broadside shot.  He really emphasizes I should never take other than a broadside shot at a warthog.  We go look for blood spoor.  There is none.  Tobis is even down on his knees looking in the sand and on small blades of grass for blood.  Tracks yes, blood no.  I am way sad I let Sigi down and I missed my chance at a nice warthog.  We retrace our steps to find out why I missed.  My bullet hit a branch and was deflected in route about 30 yards from the critter.  The sun is almost down and none of us could see the branch in the way of my intended shot.  CRAP-O-RAMA.

We head back to the farm house and call it a day.  We make an acacia wood fire off the back patio and have a cold drink.  All in all, it really has been a good day of hunting.

We are relaxing around the fire pit waiting for dinner when Ronnie and Herman come visit again.  They apologize for interrupting our evening but came over for a couple of "sun-downers" with us.  Ronnie has had a couple before arriving so he is feeling no pain, so to speak.  Herman is a writer for several hunting magazines and is interested in why we are here from Utah and is very interested in Dax's work for the State of Utah in game management.  I think it is so cool my son is an expert and he is being interviewed by a journalist.  It just makes a dad way proud.  Ronnie and Herman invite us to their house for dinner and sundowners on Wednesday.  Sigi accepts for us.

Tomorrow we go to another area to hunt zebra.  We will leave at 5 a.m.  I have lots of cuts from the thorns in the veld.  It is as if every plant in the veld has a great desire and lots of ability to hurt me.  I have 7 cuts on my left hand, 15 cuts on my right hand, and three on my face on my left cheek.  Off to bed after cold cuts and cheeses for dinner.  Must get up early tomorrow.

STEENBUCK AND WARTHOG . . .

Sunday 3 July 2016 up at 6 a.m.  Breakfast is a banana, scrambled eggs, 5 pound bread, and jelly.  I am so o o o o sore from the hike yesterday up the mountain.  I can hardly move at the first of the day.  We head out looking for warthog and steenbuck.  We check several pans looking for warthogs.  The only ones we see are females and they have piglets with them.  Near a spot where I shot a hartebeest a few years ago we stop and walk up a small rise to see if there is game on the other side of the big sand dune we are on.  As we near the crest of the hill Sigi sees a large steenbuck.  We duck down and Tobis and I stay back to not put any more motion or scent on the crest of the hill than necessary.  Dax and Sigi take up a shooting position and wait for a good shot.  Steenbuck are small targets and this one is about 120 yards away in tall grass.  Dax is shooting a .338 Win. Mag. and wants to minimize damage to the animal when he shoots.  We wait for a seemingly long time and finally I put my ear plugs in my ears as I am tired of holding my fingers in my ears to shield from the shot sound.  A couple of minutes more elapse and Dax and Sigi are at the ready.  Dax has his bi-pod down and is comfortable in his shooting position waiting for just the right shot.  A loud boom fills the morning stillness and Dax and Sigi pop up and walk toward the intended target.  Dax has taken a nice mature steenbuck and we all congratulate him.  We do the waidmansshiel ritual and take some photos.  Tobis guts the animal right there in the field so we can go on hunting.  The steenbuck is wrapped in a tarp to maintain its temperature and preserve the meat.  This is as big as they get and is a trophy for Dax:

location 20º41.113' S 20º32.705 E

We continue out search for a warthog, trophy kudu, and trophy oryx.  Lots of looking and stalking to the top of hills and overlooks without success.  We find two different pans that seem to be loaded with warthogs but none of them are trophy grade.  We make two real good stalks but there is no worthy game to shoot so we back out and try not to disturb the animals.  We head back to the main house for lunch.

Lunch at the Leuhl house is great.  Good springbuck roast, gravy, pasta for the gravy, tossed salad, and red beets {some how the Supreme Commander has gotten the word to Frauke to serve beets.  She loves them and thinks everyone should, plus they are "healthy".}  I eat some red beets for The Supreme Commander, not my favorite but she will be pleased.  Good food, good friends, and a nap.

3 p.m. on the patio for coffee {diet coke} and cookies.  Conversation shifts to socialism, Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, to the English leaving the EU.  A great exchange of ideas until the two little boys start a ruckus and we head out to hunt again.

Looking for warthogs particularly.  Spot some but no boars.  At dusk and the sun is going down we spot a "pig" and Dax and Sigi go on a 4 - 500 yard stalk on it.  They are really careful to not move to quick, to stay in the wind just right, and keep some brush between them and the intended target.  They work on the "pig" for about 20 minutes while Tobis and I watch from a far.  Dax gets to within 35 yards of the animal and realizes it is an aardvark and not a warthog.  They fellows turn and walk back to the truck while Tobis and I wonder why they did not shoot.  We suppose in the low light of sundown it was a sow.  Joke was on us all.  Back to the farm house.

Dinner is cold cuts, cheeses, focaccia bread and really good.  We sit by the fire after dinner and exchange ideas, tell stories, and really enjoy the evening.  I could get into this type life.

HUNTING WITH HANS PETER -- OLD DEAR FRIEND

Saturday afternoon:  While Sigi our PH was with the police looking for the poacher Dax and I went hunting with my old friend Hans Peter Leuhl.  Peter has been my friend since 2007 when I first came to visit him in Namibia. He is a very knowledgeable fellow in agriculture, business, and hunting (besides speaking 3 - 4 languages).  It is totally great to be out in the veld with my cumpadre again.  We looked for sometime at various locations where we had been successful other years harvesting animals on Farm Garib.  It was a nice day and we had a great time looking around and while we drove from spot to spot we had great conversations about life, family, and hunting -- of course.  I feel blessed to have found such a kindred spirit so far from home.  He has been to visit my house in Santa Clara, Utah and I was so delighted he and his wife Frauke came to visit in 2014.  We looked and saw lots of game on the farm but nothing stellar, such is hunting on occasion.

Two old pals with binoculars

Friends for 10 years on different sides of the world

Where did that oryx go?

Kalahari is very similar to the Santa Clara Mojave desert

No game worthy of a stalk so at sundown we headed back to the farm house and dinner.  Typical German dinner of cold cuts and bread with various cheeses.  Pretty good I think.  After dinner we gather to watch the World Championship Series Soccer game between German and Italy on TV.  We are cheering for Germany and they win the game!  Kind of fun to be with some folks that are so excited about "their" team.  I sleep really well this night. 

POACHER . . .

Sigi, took off with his dog and a 7X57 Mauser op[en sighted rifle looking to find out who was walking along one of his internal fence lines.  From on top of the mountain Dax and Sigi had seen a man, in a royal blue jump suit -- kind of like a uniform, was walking along the fence line where our big trophy bull kudu was supposed to be.  Sigi went down to the fence line and tried to track the blue suit man out.  Sigi found tracks where he had walked.  He found worse, much worse. Sigi found a large lion trap set in a "climb under" spot on the game fence and two large wire loops that were installed as snares on a cattle/game trail.  Sigi had a problem.  There was a poacher working his farm for game and/or cattle.  Sigi saw the lion trap was set with big jaws open in the trail then one sheet of newspaper over it and a light dusting with native red sand to hide it.  The trap was chained to a tree for when an animal stepped in it to immobilize the prey.  Sigi picked up the trap and the snares.  He then saw a hunting type dog a distance down the fence line.  Sigi's dog went into the alert mode.  Sigi knew the strange dog was from the poacher and was to run game into the snares.  Sigi threw his Mauser up to his shoulder and killed the dog with a single shot.  He was transporting the trap and snares down the fence line and discovered another place where a trap had been placed.  The newspaper was there but the trap had been dragged off with the chain that secured it.  Sigi was really really unhappy to see this.

typical lion trap

Sigi called the police.  The police came to Farm Garib at 2 p.m.  Then they let with Sigi to look at the situation.  They found where the trap had pulled loose from the fastening spot and they tracked the dragged trap and chain up the mountain for awhile. The found a juvenile oryx dragging the trap on his foot.  Sigi shot the poor crippled animal.  The two police and Sigi brought the oryx to the road and salvaged the meat.  The police found boot tracks as Sigi had.  They documented them and then went to the local private school and asked to talk to one of the male employees.  He had the same boots on as the documented tracks.  He denied any involvement in the poaching.  The police then took the director of the school aside and told her that she is responsible for the actions of the employees of the school.  She would be detained and taken to the capital city for further investigation next time there are any poaching activities on the adjoining farms.  Sigi explained to us later that an oryx might yield 300 pounds of easy meat and that could be sold in the farmers type markets for over $2 per pound.  The oryx could bring an easy $600 for a local poacher.  Daily mandated wages for farm workers in Namibia are $8 per day.  So a $600 oryx would be easy money and almost 3 months wages for honest working.  I personally have never been that close to a poacher nor his methods before, that I know of.  I was educated and appalled at the same time.

Later that evening a farmer called and asked why Sigi felt justified in shooting his dog.  It was his best hunting dog and was valued like a cow to him.  Sigi told him the dog was way off where he should have been and was causing trouble with both Sigi's hunting operations and his cattle business.  I can't believe the guy calling Sigi like that?  Perhaps the caller didn't know the guilty party was using his dog to poach?  Perhaps he didn't want Sigi to think he had anything to do with the poaching.  The man in the blue jump suit was on someone's payroll, who was actually in charge of the poaching anyway?  Lots of questions, one less oryx and dog that we know of, and no big bull kudu -- CRAP.

HERE KUDU, KUDU, KUDU, here kudu, kudu, kudu . . .

Saturday 2 July 2016

Up at 6:15 a.m. -- breakfast at 7 a.m. -- scrambled eggs, 5 pound bread, banana, jelly -- let's go hunting!

Out to hunt at sunrise, and it is beautiful out today.  Clear skies, few if any clouds, and wonderful cool air.  No pollution, no noise other than that what we make.   Namibia in the bush is a unique and marvelous place.  We are headed out to the location we were at last evening when we saw a dozen springbok, 3-4 oryx, and about 5 blue wildebeest in a small valley.  We drive to the same hill as yesterday and park in the same flat spot.  We hike ever so slowly and silently up the rocky slopes to the top of torture rocks mountain to look out over the "valley of death".  We see game as soon as we arrive on the top of the hill.  Dax and Sigi are after a BIG kudu bull today.  We see some kudu cows and calves.  We see some oryx, some springbok, and way out there in the veld are some blue wildebeest.  Yeah, Dax wants a blue wildebeest and Sigi has about 5 grazing in a small meadow about 1.5 kilometers away.  I stay in place to guide them with hand signals while they drop off the hillside and into the 10 foot tall bushed up veld.  They can walk to where the blue wildebeest are grazing and if they get confused or the wildebeest move I am in place to watch the game and give the hunters signals as to which way to go to intersect the wildebeest.

Sigi, the PH, and Dax work their way into the veld with hardly any sound and the wind is coming from the wildebeest to them so all is right for a stalk.  As the hunters get closer to the game I loose sight of them even with my 10X40 binoculars.  They have dropped down to crawl the last 200 to 300 yards and really sneak up on the wary wildebeest.  I am waiting and watching the wildebeest still grazing in the small meadow for what seems like a very long time finally I hear a shot.  A single shot and the sound of a bullet smacking meat.  I know someone just made a great shot.  I am sure it is Dax and he has never taken a wildebeest before so I am glad for him.  The wildebeest run away from me and the hunters direction. I don't see any of them limping or any lagging behind.  Could Dax have missed?  No more shots and I still can't see the PH and my son.  I decided to hike down to them and see the prize.  I have marked my GPS with the location of the truck and if I get disoriented I will just walk back to the truck.

Once off the hill I am totally disoriented.  I don't really know where Dax and the Sigi, the PH, are in the tall brush of the veld.  I just kind of go on instinct and head toward the meadow I remembered seeing for so long with wildebeest grazing.  I walk for what seems like a long way and can't seem to encounter the meadow. I yell loudly my son's name with no response.  I turn to the right as maybe I have veered off course or walked too far.  I walk another ways and yell again without response and then decide CRAP-O-RAMA, I am lost.  Everything, every direction, seems to look just the same here submerged in the veld.  I can see above me about 1.5 kilometers away the hill I was watching from but really the various landmarks visible from the hill top are gone to me now standing among them.  I take out my GPS and start to walk back to the truck.  I come up with an idea -- I will shoot a shot and they will yell or come to me to see if I have something down.  I pick out a large tree about 50 yards away and take aim.  I shoot a .338 Win. Mag. round into the smallest knot hole in the tree trunk and paralyze the tree instantly.  {I wonder what the trophy fee is for an acacia tree?}  Just as hoped Dax came to see me within 1 or 2 minutes and asked what I was shooting at.  I told him I shot a tree and need to be un-lost.  We walked together to where his wildebeest was down and took some photos.  It was a nice one.  Dax had done his usual great job and harvested it with just one round.  He is a good shot at which I kind of am ticked.  Dax doesn't practice shooting hardly at all and is really a good shot.  I practice lots and try to be a good shot but end up occasionally providing "warning shots" as I did last evening at the springbok.  {Sorry, I am off subject.}  Dax took a nice wildebeest and the picture is below. 

location 23º12.597' S 17º38.436' E

Sigi wants to get the wildebeest off his farm by hunting them as they can share diseases with his cattle.  Due to the disease sharing possibility situation he has to have additional health testing done on his cattle when they go to market.  It is easier to just take the 5 or 6 wildebeest off the farm and avoid the expense and hassle of additional testing, not to mention the possibility of actually getting the cattle infected with a disease from the wildebeest.

Sigi sets to harassing me about the shot I took to get un-lost.  I told him I had never taken an acacia tree and wanted to put one down.  I explained how I had paralyzed it with one shot and he congratulated me and offered me a stick for my hat to  show I was a successful hunter.  Of course Dax already had his bloody stick in his hat as he was indeed a Waidmannshiel hunter.  Sigi is really a great person and so fun to hunt with.  Sigi had asked Dax if I ever got lost when hunting.  Dax answered truthfully "yes, a little sometimes." {You can look up my other documented lost incident in my blog post in December 2008 when I lost my whole pickup truck in Wyoming while pronghorn hunting.}

We load the wildebeest and head back to the farm house.  In route we see a very large trophy kudu bull on a hillside.  We drive considerably away from the kudu bull and then stop the truck.  Sigi thinks we can go after the trophy bull from our location and he won't expect us.  We will have to hike up on a small mountain then ridge-line for about a kilometer back towards his location but we should be above the kudu we are after and we will be able to get a shot at him.  Tobis, the tracker takes the truck and heads to the farm to process the wildebeest meat.  We set out up the mountain.  I am old and not in good physical shape both from laziness and from recent treatments of chemo-therapy and radiation-therapy.  Dax and Sigi are 37 years old and seem to be jogging up the small mountain we are on.  I tell them to go ahead and I will stay low and try to catch up as I am able.  I promise to not get lost, and I will go to where we got off the truck with my GPS mark if I get close to being disoriented and I will not scare the kudu away.  I have already "limited out" on acacia trees today.  I gradually make my way up the mountain.  I am on top but can't see Dax or Sigi.  I walk the ridge-line to the east and glass a valley below.  I see springbok, and oryx.  No kudu.  I decide to walk to the west and start on the ridge-line to the west.  I hear a shot.  I hear another shot.  Both sound like they hit meat with that tell tale splat sound.  I continue to the west and then see Sigi standing on a crest of the mountain west of me.  I hurry over and he tells me Dax has an oryx down, supposedly, and there is a poacher on his farm he is going after.  I am to go help Dax find the oryx he has down and wait for Sigi or Tobis to come pick it up.  Sigi takes off.  Dax and I meet just under the cusp of the top of the small mountain.  He shows me the brush area where the oryx is supposedly down.  We start the decent looking for oryx and that big kudu bull if possible.  We get down on the valley floor and Dax tells me the oryx was at 309 yards from his shooting position.  A do-able shot.  We look around and I find the oryx laying behind a large bush.  I call to Dax and he comes over.  It is very dead.  We congratulate each other lots.  We set it up for some photos and I take them for Dax.

location 23º12.903' S 17º36.439' E 

While moving the oryx around for the photos we see the bullet lump from one of the shots is just under the skin on the far side.  Dax borrows my knife and cuts if free.  The bullet comes out as another perfect Barnes .338" caliber 225 grain Tipped Triple Shock four petal mushroom.  Later in the day we show it to Sigi and he tells us rather PH-philosophically, "Germans make the best guns but Americans make the best bullets."  {I think our Rugers are pretty darn good guns too!}

SPRINGBOK 2016

Friday 1 July 2016

Up at 6:00 a.m. today. Dressed and ready for adventure.  Breakfast at 7 a.m. was typical Farm Garib hunting breakfast -- scrambled eggs, bacon, 5 pound bread*, banana, apple, were all very good.  We went first to the rifle range to check the zero on our rifles.  We had just traveled 8 - 9,000 miles and who knows where our scopes would put our shots fired.  Dax shot first and his rifle was more or less right where it had been on the other side of the world.  I shot and my rifle and the scope needed to be moved down 2 clicks (1/2 inch).  My point of impact at 100 yards is about 2" high.  That puts me right on at 200 yards and only 8" low at 300 yards.  We are off . . .

We drove around and saw some but not lots of game.  We got down from the truck and went on a springbok stalk for about 2 - 3 kilometers.  The springbok kept moving and hiding among the bushes so we could not get a shot.  There were also dozens of hartebeest intermingled in the area watching and counter moving on us so getting a good shot on a springbok was tough.  There were too many game eyes and noses around for us to get in close.  Sigi, the PH, and I went after a "management" (meat) springbok stalking.  We kept behind some big bushes (almost 6' tall) for some distance, like 400 yards, and finally arrived within 200 +/- yards of a springbok ram that thought he was a great lover.  He had a harem of about 6 ewes with him and was in the process of romancing all of them at the same time.  I looked through the scope on 9X and he had layered horns denoting age but the horns were not so wide, not "gold metal trophy" grade.  Sigi, said he didn't want that particular springbok to leave so many seeds behind in the herd on his farm so I was tasked with harvesting this Romeo.  He was all around the various ewes running back and forth.  He was trying to mount them for breeding and I couldn't get a clear shot for what seemed like a real long time.  Actually it was only about 10 minutes, but when you are poised on the shooting sticks and watching through the scope it is a real long time.  Finally the springbok gave me a front quartering shot and I took it.  He went down on the shot.  I quickly reloaded and waited for him to get back up, but he had expired.  The Barnes 225 gr. .338 caliber bullet traveled from his front shoulder through his entire body and was up against the hide on the rear opposite quarter.  Great performance.  I felt fortunate to have harvested this springbok for meat and also fortunate the bullet was recovered.  We gave the animal his last bite ritual and showed respect to a worthy opponent in the hunt.

location 23º12.903'S 17º36.439' E

We loaded the animal in the truck and took it back to the house for processing.  Later in the week some of this animal would be served for dinner, delicious.  While at the house we had lunch of springbok meatballs, from Sigi's earlier harvest, with gravy, potatoes, green beans, tossed salad, bread, cheese, and lemon pudding for dessert.  Great lunch.  We went back to our rooms for a "medio dia" nap and returned at 2:30 p.m. for afternoon coffee and cakes.  While we were having coffee (diet coke) two of Sigi's friends came over to say hi.  There were Ronnie and Herman.  They were old friends of  Sigi. Ronnie was also a P.H.  Herman was a famous soccer player in Namibia.  Sigi later told us Ronnie had trained Sigi some at the first of his career and had helped him lots with where Sigi is today.  Cool!

At 3:00 p.m. we drove out to hunt parking at the base of a hill that offered a view in all 360º of the veld from on top.   The hill was very rocky and hiking up was slow and deliberate.  We saw from the hill top warthogs, oryx, and springbok.  We noticed one of the oryx was a big bull.  We watched as the oryx grazed from 399 to eventually 310 yards.  Only problem being the bull oryx didn't get close only two females.  There were springbok intermingled with the oryx.  Sigi saw a nice trophy ram in the group of springbok.  We waited and watched with lots of patience.  The springbok were headed in our direction.  We were on a hill top about 150 yards higher up than them on the veld floor.  The sun was starting to set and the darkness comes quick in Namibia at this time of year.  I was laying on the rocky hill top and in a position that a person could consider as painful.  If I had not been hunting and just working I am sure my feeling would be classified as pain.  I had cut my finger on the rocks and was bleeding some.  When I adjusted my scope I left a blood trail on the eye bell.  I was waiting for Sigi to give me the OK to shoot the big trophy springbok.  We watched until he gave us a broadside view and Sigi told me to take him.  I had lazered the range at 222 yards so I held right on his shoulder and pressed the trigger while in sudo-pain.  The rifle went off and the springbok jumped and ran to the south some.  I had missed ???  I call it a warning shot.  I reloaded and fired again this time anchoring the animal.  I had an illuminated red dot in my Leupold VXR scope and it really helped in this particular low light shooting situation.  We hiked down the hill to the animal and gave him his last bite rites and took some photos.  He was a good one.  Later, we found out he was considered a gold medal springbok.  I was very pleased with my all springbok day in Namibia.  Dax had not fired a shot at an animal and I felt badly for him.  He was there to hunt too.  We had been waiting for the oryx bull to come in for Dax a shot but the springbok ram was the only game that came into range.  I am thankful.

location 23º12.748'S 17º38.104'E

Sigi told Tobis, our tracker, to go get the truck and we would take some photos.  I thanked Sigi for his patience with me.  We drove to the house and delivered the animal to the crew for processing.  Dinner was Farm Garib style with thin sliced lunch meats, cheeses, good bread, bisque of springbok, pickled peppers, and water to drink.  We sat around an outdoor fire and Sigi's little boys, Janne and Xander, entertained us with their antics.  Oh, to be 3 1/2 and 2 years old again. . .

It has been a long and fruitful day.  Tomorrow will be even better I bet, I am off to shower and to bed.  6:00 a.m. will come real soon for me an older man.

*5 pound bread is full of seeds and whole grains.  It is sliced real thin and is wonderful.  It is dense and heavy so I named it 5 pound bread because a standard sized loaf could weigh 5 pounds.

Barnes .338" 225 gr. bullet post springbok