BEAR HUNTING in Colorado rocks !!

My son drew a black bear rifle tag to hunt in Colorado and I wanted to go along for the adventure.  He allowed the old guy (me) to tag along and I had a great time.  He is so good to me.

We hunted near the Utah-Colorado boarder in the Bookcliffs area.  We were at approx. 8,800 ft. elevation and in a large patch of service berries and quacking aspens.  Kind of west from Rangely, Colorado if you are familiar with the area.  We found many, many fresh bear droppings, and a reasonable variety of different sized tracks but were unable to catch any bear in the act of making those tracks, . . . and etc.  We were up early (5:oo a.m.ish) and watching water holes hiding in the extra dense service berry laden bushes on the north side of various hillsides.  I watched like a marine scout sniper assistant with my binoculars and had a radio to tell Dax if I saw a bear or even a shadow that looked like a bear in the service berries.  We hunted Monday evening 9-2-2019 and mornings and evenings until 9-4-2019.

On late Wednesday afternoon 9-4-2019, Dax was sitting on a hillside nestled in service berries waiting for a bear to come to water in a pond about 200 yards and 30º angle below him.  As the evening grew abit dimmer with the setting sun he heard a noise behind him.  He thought a deer or an elk had come down the trail behind him and was making the noise.  NOT SO !!!  He turned to look and now a boar black bear was maybe hunting him???  Dax looked for cubs as he did not want to shoot a sow bear.  NO CUBS.  He took aim and made the shot with his .338 Win Mag and the 225 gr. Barnes bullet flew true to the mark and smacked the bear.

The photos tell the rest of the story.

Hearing the shot I hiked to were I though Dax was but the forestation was so dense I could not find him. After looking around I hiked back to get the truck and drive it down a fire break road as close as possible to the downed bear general area.  Dax gutted the critter on the hillside and made a very hard hike bringing the bear out.  We loaded it and went to a open place a mile away to take photos and skin it.  The hide was in excellent condition.  There was a significant amount of bear fat all around the carcass.  This old boy was ready for the long winter hibernation nap.  Fat and hairy.

Spending the hours traveling to and from the bear hunt camp, then hunting a few days with my son was wonderful.  We could talk and not be interrupted by phones or kids or wives.  The trip was well worth my 1,000 mile round trip.  The bear itself was a bonus. 

God is so good to me.

Day 8 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Tuesday April 17, 2019

Up at 7:00 a.m.ish and eat the farewell usual German breakfast.  We load up our gear into the VW diesel mini-van and head towards Windhoek where the taxidermy shop and the airport await us.  We leave our trophies for cleaning, tanning, and processing with the kind people at the taxidermy shop.  I look forward to my black wildebeest horns and the hide as well as my first oryx  being euro-mounted. 

We head to the airport and check our bags.  South African Airlines has a company rule that ammo needs to be transported in a separate locked container.  Even though it came into Namibia just fine in our luggage from the USA a week ago we have to combine our ammo with Jim Sorenson’s and borrow a lockable box from Sigi to ship it home.  Ken chooses to leave his ammunition with Sigi -- they both shoot the true and correct caliber = .338 Win Mag.  Dax and I take ours home via Blackfoot, Idaho in a locked box. . . .  gradually?

The flight home is seemingly extra long and the layovers are hard to handle.  I am so tired and my foot problems are not helping.  I watch several movies on the way across the Atlantic ocean.  If  I did not have so dang much fun I would not do this again.  I am already thinking about when and how to come back to Namibia and hunt for the one and only Ugly Old Hartebeest.

We clear customs in Atlanta without a hitch and fly to Las Vegas.  When in Las Vegas we catch the shuttle and ride back to St. George.  The Supreme Commander picks us up at the shuttle station.  What a trip/adventure!

Day 7 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Monday April 16, 2019

Up at 6:00 a.m. -- breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, delicious breads, and jelly.  We are out hunting at 7:15 a.m.  We stalk up on 2 or 3 bunches of oryx but no shot.

Dax and Sigi see an tough old warthog.  They are off on the chase for awhile on foot keeping low in the brush.  Dax makes a good shot on the old bugger at 200+ yards.  A crusty old warthog with no tail left, a broken tusk, no teeth in his lower jaw, one ear off, and tons of scars on his face.  Dax may have done him a favor as he would have eventually starved to death due to the not teeth problem. Sigi really congratulates him on the trophy.  We take some photos and William brings the truck around.  We load it up and head back for lunch.

Capt. Crusty the un-lucky warthog

Lunch is some type of fried in bacon grease composite lunch meat resembling ham that is carved thick, maybe 3/4th of an inch, and served with fried potatoes, and is served with a fried egg on top of the meat.  There is a tossed green salad.  To me more or less the least good meal of the hunt.  Dax later told me in Santa Clara he liked it.  The other hunters chowed it down.  Dax asked me if I were afraid to eat the bacon here.  I said no, I didn’t feel like it.  I also gave some of my fake ham to Dax, above the table.  I gave 2 bites of the fake ham to the dog under the table to finish it off.  Dessert is a rich dark chocolate pudding.  It was chocolately good and I could relate to it via my spoon.

After lunch I go soak my foot and rest for an hour.  Later over on the main house patio for cokes Sigi asks what I am out to hunt for now?  I say I would like to get an “old ugly hartebeest“.  He laughs and says while snorting “They are all ugly”.  We go out and find the perfect specimen of a "old ugly hartebeest."  He is a sneaky rascal.  As I stalk to within 280 yards he winds us.  He then stays really close to a cow and calf so I can’t get a clear shot.  The animals gradually wonder over west into some shoulder high brush and disappear.  We journey on to another venue.

We drive up the southeast side of the valley of death and saw oryx, kudu, and mountain zebra.  Hares and springbok are all over the place.  It was a cool drive and I took several photos.  At sunset we head back for dinner.

Before dinner we have to settle up accounts with Sigi.  I pay for Dax and my hunting fees and food.  I am glad Dax could come with me.  I wish Rusty, my other son, would have come.

Dinner for all the hunters and guides is bar-b-que oryx, black wildebeest, and lamb all good meat!  I think Ben, the P.H., grilled it over charcoal.  We had some excellent bread that was cooked in a dutch oven.  Ben, the P.H., saw us all sitting together at the table ready to eat and asked me to say grace.  I did  and I wonder what they thought of this gringo from Utah praying at their table.  Good fun talking about all the adventures we had together.  Hunting together makes for good friendships.

No dessert and time to soak my foot again.  Shower and off to bed.  Poor night sleeping as I had lots of anxiety and major foot pain.

Day 5 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Saturday April 13, 2019

When asked last night what time for breakfast “7 something?” I replied 7:59.  I was up at 7:20 and went over to talk with Frauke on the side patio behind the kitchen. She has been nice to me for over 12 years.  I appreciate her as a fine person and a dear friend.  She is a hard working ranch/farm wife, mother, and grandmother.  She is coping with the loss of her husband Hans Peter of 40+ years just a short time ago.  Peter was a special friend to me and I deeply miss him.  I can't imagine her loss.

Frauke told me today Jule was born in the same house where I am staying.  Frauke’s children are: Frita, Jule, Heinrick, and Phillip.  A black worker, a cook, was the mid-wife delivering person for Jule.  Frauke said it was a stormy night when Jule was born and it was too far and too risky to go to the hospital.  She had her baby on the farm.  Her father-in-law sat up waiting for the birth to be complete with a bottle of champagne and a paper to write down the moment the baby cried. -- everyone was so involved with the birth he drank all the champagne alone in his night shirt and fell asleep.

I have a significantly infected toe on my left foot.  Pretty bad.  Swollen and the skin is coming off the top of it.  Dax is concerned and said I should go to the doctor here.  I should get on anti-biotics.  I said I didn’t want to go to the clinic here because of the multitude of strange-exotic and potent germs that were there at the clinic.  I would have no resistance to them being a gringo.  I think Dax told everyone about the infection and Jim Sorensen brought out some antibiotics he had brought with him.  They were purchased in Mexico but I took them 3 times a day for the rest of the trip.  Sigi brought me some anti-inflammatory medicine and I took it twice a day.  I sent an email message to the Supreme Commander back home to get me an appointment with my regular doctor for the day after I came home.  She did.  Frauke brought me the farm's traditional foot-soaking tub and some special “green soap” and I soaked my infected foot in hot water with the green soap twice or three times a day.  It made it feel better for a few minutes.

Grossest photo of the trip

On the hunt:  Sigi left off Tobis and I with some chairs to watch for game coming into a drinking pond.  I was not up to walking much with my sore toe.  We watched as a momma warthog came to drink and wallow with her 4 babies.  It was cute.  She did not see us nor smell us.  A big eagle came to drink and it was beautiful to watch nature live.  A juvenile warthog male came in and saw us after wallowing and drinking some.  He took off so momma warthog did too.  The babies kept saying, “Why do we have to leave -- we were just starting to have fun?”  Eventually Sigi came to pick us up in the truck.  We headed back to the farm house for lunch.  They had not seen any shootable game either.  Lots of blame is on the helicopter that is constantly trespassing in Farm Garib air space.

Lunch was hamburger patties (beef), brown gravy, boiled new potatoes, tossed salad, baked squash, some kind of and onion-cabbage slaw?  Desert was pistachio pudding.  After lunch we had nap time.  I soaked my foot again before dozing off.

Drinks at 4 p.m. on the main patio.  Everyone on the back patio started buying Frita’s jewelry that was on display in a locked case in the dining room.  Several hundred dollars were spent by the hunters.

Sigi, Dax, William and I went to Joe Luhl’s place. We saw a warthog at distance and Dax took a shot at a jackal without luck.  Finally some rain started and we head back at dusk.

Joe Luhl home So. 23º06.264’  E 17º45.115’  elevation 4,718

Day 6 of the Namibia 2019 Hunt

Sunday April 15, 2019

Up at 6:15 a.m. breakfast as usual - German snacks cold cuts, cheeses, extra delicious bread, jam.

Out to hunt -- Dax and Sigi end up with a blue wildebeest to track and shoot.  I stay with William and kind of guard the truck.  My foot has me limited in how much I can get around.  I see various female warthogs with young ones in the field I am looking out over.  They don’t see me and it is kind of fun to watch them look for eatables as a group.  William hears Dax’s shot and we load up to go to them in the truck.  We figure there is something down.  (I am also kind-of deaf due to my age and shooting so much without ear protection for 30+ years.) We find Dax and Sigi and they lead us to the beast.  It is a pretty good one.  We take photos and load it up with the winch.  We take the animal back for processing and for our lunch.

Lunch is chicken thighs and legs stewed with veggies and served in a clear sauce over spirelli pasta.  I eat the tossed salad and the noodles but am not hungry enough to eat the chicken.  Fresh cut up fruit with custard is dessert.  The fruit tastes so refreshing.  Way good!

After lunch break at 3:30 p.m. Frauke takes me on foot to see Hans Peter’s grave.  It is a beautiful place for him over looking the farm to the west.  His parents and his sister are also buried in the family plot.  I told Frauke I deeply believe in Jesus Christ and the resurrection and eternal nature of one’s soul.  I believe in families forever.  She is a way strong woman and sincere friend.  I want her to be OK.  It is hard to do as she has done all her life.  She is a quality person and an example to so many black and whites of what to be.  She also assured me of her testimony of the resurrection and the eternal nature of  one’s soul.

After our visit to the grave site Frauke took the little boys to Windhoek and left at 4:30 p.m.  I said goodbye to them and wished them safe journey.  Out to hunt again without luck.  I shot at a jackal at 400 yards and shot too high.  I was offered a shot at a blue wildebeest at 518 yards and I declined as it was too far.  It started to rain so we all piled into the truck cab and headed back to the farm house.

Everyone is worn out and off to bed at 9:45 p.m. snoring soon after. . . .

CHIZZLERS . . . what chizzlers ? ? ?

I really think we were short-cut to not get to hunt chizzlers this spring.  I look forward to hunting profit eaters all year and when the snow starts to melt on Pine Valley mountain in Feb. or so I get all excited to go wreak mass destruction on the chizzlers up in Iron County.  Crap-O-Rama, this year there were no chizzlers to wreak on!  What am I suppose to do with all my pent up wreaking mass destruction frustrations?  I want to empty out a significant amount of rim fire ammo and pile up little vermin bodies.

 

I went hunting with Bounty Hunter 6 3 - 4 times this spring and we shot some chizzlers but it was truly slim pickens.  Where we would get 300 a day each other years we got only 30 a day this year.  We were in the same fields, using the same rifles, with the same ammo.  Where did all the critters go?

 

 

Heaven forbid the farmers in Iron County will actually make a profit this year due to the significantly reduced numbers of vermin eating their products in the field. I always thought agriculture was a calling in life and those who were so called had to endure ill weather, hardships, and low -- if any earnings.  This year the weather has been wet for growth, the diminished numbers of chizzlers have taken very few profits from the agriculturalists, and there is a possibility the farms might even make some money.  What the HECK?

Day 4 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Friday April 12, 2019

Up at 5 a.m. to head to hunt on Reiner’s place.  It is about 40 miles away, I think, and about a 1.5 hour drive.  We are after black wildebeest, warthog, baboon, and whatever?

Dax and Sigi see a black wildebeest and head out on foot once we arrive at the other farm.  About 45 minutes later we heard a shot.  Dax got one!

So. 22º40.210  E 17º27.562’  elevation 5,712

We hike over and see the animal.  It is a nice one.  We take photos and then load it in the truck.  We drive to the main house and processing shed to handle the animal. 

Black wildebeest are called the clowns of the veldt.  They run away from the hunter when spooked then if the hunter stays put and very still they come back running to see if you are really a hunter.  Dax had a textbook hunt on these clowns -- he waited patiently and they came back.  He made a good shot and took one for a trophy.  ?Crazy?

We go to eat a field lunch near a man made pond 3-4 kilometers from Reiner‘s house.  Sigi and the trackers build a small fire and cook some sausages.  We have pre-made sandwiches on delicious bread.  The sandwich filling is cream cheese, ham, pickles, cheddar cheese.  They are pretty good but I am not into pickles.  I say nothing and eat it anyway as I am hungry.  We sit around in the shade after we eat waiting for the medio-dia to pass.  As we talk, eat, and laugh a warthog comes out of the veldt and starts to drink across the pond from us.  We were talking loud and laughing but he came anyway.  After his drink he wallows a bit in the mud and plays around in plain sight.  Ben Sorensen grabs the guide's rifle, a suppressed .30-06, and sits down to shoot at the wart hog.  The hog is about 145 yards away and Ben nails him with one shot.  We go over and take photos and then haul him back to our lunch camp.  The trackers start the skinning process by hanging him from his hocks in a tree.

So. 22º40.979' E 17º27.500' elevation 5,815

 We continue to laugh and talk about how dumb the warthog was. In about 10 minutes some baboons climb the trees on the opposite side of the pond from us and start to howl at us.  They are trying to tell us to get lost as it is their water spot I assume.  They make a lot of noise.  Sigi says “Craig shoot one of those baboons”.  I can see 2 of them across the pond and up on a hill in a taller tree.  I laser them at 388 yards.  Jim Sorensen starts to make book on my shot.  He says I can’t make the shot.  Sigi says I can and so people put up bets.  I am the whole time trying to get steady on my bi-pod and calculate in my head how far to hold over at the distance, maybe 24”.  I also feel a wind from left to right so I figure to hold 2-3 inches to the left.  I take my time as the baboons continue all the time howling at us.  I gently squeeze the trigger and the .338 Win Mag goes boom.  The baboon falls from the tree.  I am about as surprised as the baboon was.  The group of lunching hunters erupts in raucous laughter.  Sigi collects the bets and offers me ½ of the cash,   I say “no thanks it is blood money.”  Again there are a lot of laughs.  Sigi pockets the cash.  Jim later tells me a few times, “that was the shot of the hunt“.  Days later the "shot” is still talked about at meals in the evening.  I am glad I got lucky.

We travel around Reiner’s farm kind of all over, again.  We spot a large kudu bull and we call on the cel phone to the other hunters giving them the location.  They hurry over and Ben and Jorn make a stalk that ends with a nice kudu trophy being taken.  We are looking for a black wildebeest for me.  We only find females and calves all afternoon.  Just at sundown we spot a group of several black wildebeest.  Sigi, Dax, and I make a quick 2 kilometer stalk across a wide valley toward the animals.  We have to keep the brush between them and us so as not to spook them.  The wind is right and they move little as we close the distance.  We finally catch up as the sun goes behind the mountain to the west.  It is dim out, but I turn on my Leupold VXR red dot scope reticle and I am ready.  An average sized bull kind of wonders toward the hill to our south grazing and I have a good broadside shot at 155 yards.  On the sticks, I bring the rifle up, take aim, put the illuminated red dot just over the point where the front leg joins into the chest cavity (the heart) and squeeze the trigger.  The rifle report seems really loud and the group of wildebeest take off on the full run.  The fellow I shot staggers about 5 yards and drops over DRT.

So. 22º42.361' E17º27.562' elevation 5,712

 We congratulate each other and take some photos.  Sigi heads back to get the truck.  Dax and I stay with the downed critter.  It is officially dark now.  Dax takes his flash light out and puts it on top of the shooting sticks for a sentinel.   In about 15 minutes we hear the truck coming through the veldt brush.  Sigi and William have to make a slight detour because of a drainage in the path to where the beast lies.  We load him up and head back to the processing barns.

At the processing barns we hang the black wildebeest up by the hocks and William starts the skinning procedure.  It has been a very long day.  No complaint from William he is glad for the work.  Helmut, Reiners’ dad, comes out with a beer in his hand.  He offers excessively one to Sigi, Dax and me.  Only Sigi accepts.  I met him before and I think he is a great guy.  He wears Wrangler pants from the USA.  He is about 6’7” and it is unusual for me to talk up to someone.  He says he is 67 years old.  We have a nice conversation while William does his work.  

Finally we load up and head back to Farm Garib.  When we arrive the food is ready for dinner -- fettuccini, meat sauce, tossed salad, great breads and cheeses.  I add a dash of Tabasco for extra flavor perfection.  Ken is already in bed, kind of dissatisfied I think -- not enough attention syndrome plus way too much hiking/walking.

I have a very sore knee, the start of a staph infection in my left middle toe and I am old and worn out.  THIS IS STILL . . . . . . .REALLY REALLY FUN!

Day 3 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Ben, Jim, Jorn, BH 6, Ben P.H., Sigi, Dax, CLM

Thursday April 11, 2019

Up at 6:15 a.m.  Very tired.  Jet lag plus the long walk yesterday plus the 109 years under my belt = very tired.  Breakfast is cold cuts, cheeses, delicious breads with plumb jelly.  Out to hunt with Jorn and Dax and Tobis.  We went all around at slow speed in the truck looking for some game.  We went on a long walk about 1.7 miles.  We saw some game but nothing spectacular.  Some smaller wart hogs, female kudu, and a few oryx far off.  No shots fired so we came back for lunch.  The neighbor to the south, Uncle Joe to Jule, has hired a helicopter firm to catch 150 oryx live for transport.  The helicopter is supposed to just fly over Joe’s place but the pilot is all over Farm Garib rounding up game.   This runs them off where we can hunt.  Crap-O-Rama!  We saw dozens of oryx and springbok running off Farm Garib because of the noise of the helicopter.  The animals were running toward Joe’s place.  I photograph and video the springbok movements.
   
Lunch is springbok fillet mignon wrapped in bacon.  It was amazingly good.  Green salad, brown bread, brown gravy made for a truly great meal.  Who said hunting food is just subsistence eating.  Dessert is chocolate pudding. 

Sigi, Ken, Jim, Ben (Jim‘s son), went up to Reiner’s place about 1.5 hours drive away.  They are looking for zebra, black wildebeest, and large warthogs.  I hope they do well as Dax and I are headed there tomorrow.

CLM needed to rest this afternoon so sent Dax and Jorn out alone to hunt.  I wrote in this journal and had a cold drink with ICE.  I need to charge up for tomorrow.  Pretty sure we are in for a big walking day tomorrow.

Day 2 of the 2019 Namibia hunt

Wednesday  10 April 2019
Up at 6:00 a.m. I awoke without an alarm.  Kind of a jet lag thing I guess.  Breakfast a la Germany = cold cuts, cheeses, 5  pound bread, white bread and jelly.  I went into the kitchen early and made some beer biscuits.  They were well accepted and no prisoners were taken.  Even the little boys Janne and Xander got into the eating action. 

Dax and I went out hunting with Sigi and William.  Sigi is recovering from a vasectomy (kind of sore and shouldn’t exert abdominal muscles for awhile.)  We drove over to an isolated pasture and found some steenbok.  Dax and Sigi made a stalk while William and I didn’t want to muddy up the scents and make more noise so we stayed near the truck.  Dax ended up prone off the bi-pod at 138 yards on the small target making a nice chest shot.  Dax likes the small antelope species.  I think it is for the novelty of the size.  William and I walk over to Dax’s hunt area, we congratulated each other and took photos.  Back to Farm Garib for lunch.

Lunch was oryx rib eye roast, roasted potatoes, cauliflower, tossed green salad, green beans, and delicious breads.  Very nice meal.  Pistachio pudding for desert.  Went to rest for 1 ½ hours and then over to the main house patio for cokes and out to hunt. 

We all travel out to a far pasture (valley) to look for an oryx Bounty Hunter 6 had wounded this same morning.  The oryx was hit in the chest but they are tough rascals and hard to drop.We all went together -- 3 trucks, 5 hunters, 3 P.H.s, 4 trackers, and 3 dogs.  We found the original spot for the first shot and the blood tracking started.  The dogs helped some, the trackers were good too.  We tracked blood and hoof prints for about 2.5 miles.  Finally, we thought the oryx had given us the slip but Dax saw the bleeding oryx through his binoculars off to the west maybe 800 yards way.  The chase was on, again.  I walked about 6.8 miles this day (as per Dax’s phone) and I was thoroughly physically beat up.  Sigi went to get the truck and we drove around on the road to where the oryx would have to walk across.  We were all watching for it and Jorn saw it first.  He made a quick sitting down shot on the injured animal and the pursuit was over.  Jorn was a lieutenant in the Namibian army and was infantry so he scooted along rather well on his butt in the red sand to get a clear head shot.   Kind of fun to watch.  Bounty Hunter 6's oryx is tall, maybe 38” -- 39“.  Nice one.  The group loaded up the beast and took it to the processing barn while Dax, Sigi, William and I went out looking for a meat oryx. 

We drove to the north and then parked the truck under the crest of a hill so the animals would not see it in the valley to come just a bit further north.  We walked a distance maybe a kilometer from the truck into the valley and I saw an oryx on the hillside to the east of us.  It was in bright view as the sun was going down and the lighting was perfect.  It was 288 yards away staring at the four of us.  Sigi said I should try a shot off the sticks at 288 yards.  I don’t like the sticks as I don’t feel steady.  I took aim and placed the shot high and a bit far back.  The oryx went down and was spine shot mid-body.  He could not move the back ½ of his body but was not dead yet.  I loaded another round and shot over him in the rush of the moment off the sticks.  Dax, in the mean time, had lowered his bi-pod legs and sat on the ground taking a very steady shot chest shot and finished off the oryx.  My rifle had an overloaded round and the primer came out of the casing and it jammed the magazine feed.  What the heck?  I have been reloading ammo for 45 years have never had that happen before.  I cleared the jam but no further shot was required.  We went up on the hillside to see the prize.  It was a seemingly hard hike for me.  It was a nice meat oryx and I was proud of it.  Dax and I did it as a team.  We took photos and William brought the truck around to load the animal.  Dax more or less drug the animal down the hill and we loaded him into the truck with the wench.  This was kind of a bonus for the day.

Back at Garib I helped Bounty Hunter 6 shorten his .338 Win Mag ammo on Sigi’s reloading press to fit easier in the magazine of his rifle.  Bounty Hunter 6 was telling Sigi “Craig knows reloading, he has written a book on it.”  When people asked Bounty Hunter 6 questions on reloading he looks it up in Craig’s book and tells them the answer.  They think he is brilliant. I said “You are a genius because you know where to look for the answers.”

AFTER THOUGHT:  I am kind of bugged out about the over charged round today.  Why? I haven’t ever had that before.  I took my rifle, Darth Maul, out of the stock and cleaned everything up.  I thoroughly lubed the bolt and re-assembled it all.  Hoping to not have that happen ever again.

Jule and I had a philosophical conversation at lunch.  She misses her dad, Hans Peter Luhl .  Jule sees him all the time around the farm in improvements he made and programs he implemented.  Hans Peter was a great friend to me, I also miss him.

There is little grass on Garib due to the drought..  Jule has been selling cattle and is down to 600 head of cattle from the average 2,000 head due to lack of rains and sparse grass feed.  There is a pasture with pregnant cows that will have to slaughtered if the rains don’t come.  Harsh conditions would kill both the cow and the calf.  Better to get the cow meat than loose it all to starvation.

Day 1 of the 2019 Namibia hunt

Tuesday April 9, 2019

FARM GARIB  So. 23º08.085’  E 17º37.938’  elevation 4,817

We were up at 7 a.m.  Breakfast at 7:30 a.m. and the euro-usual of 5 pound bread, white bread, jams, scrambled eggs, lunch meats, cheeses, bananas, and coffee.  I ate up.  It is always really good food at Farm Garib.  We loaded up in the various vehicles to go to the shooting range and check our rifles zero.  My rifle was a bit off to the right, two clicks left and then a sub M.O.A, group so I am good to go.  Dax shot well and moved his scope down a touch.  Bounty Hunter 6 did not have to move his scope at all.  Dax and I cut cards to see who was going to shoot first.  I drew a 10 and he drew a 5 so I was first up.

We saw several oryx but couldn’t get a close enough stalk to get a shot.  The wind seemed to swirl a lot and we just couldn’t get a clear shot.  We went on three different stalks without results. About 1:00 p.m. as we worked our way back to the farm house on back roads and trails we spotted a bat-eared fox that was sick. He was hanging around the water trough, but would not drink.  Sigi though he had rabies.  Sigi was getting out a tire iron to go end the fox’s misery when I offered to shoot it.  Sigi said OK if you want.  I shot it with the  .338 Win. Mag. at 50 yards and it was real dead -- quick.  First animal taken on the trip a rabid bat-eared fox.

On the last of our journey to the farm house we spotted a lone oryx bull.  He was on a side hill about 232 meters away.  He could see us but didn’t think we were a threat.  He was quartering away from us and I asked Sigi if I should shoot him?  Sigi replied but I can’t remember what he said as I was already taking up the slack on my 2.5 pound trigger off my bi-pod resting on the roof of the truck.  The boom went off and the oryx slumped.  He was hit hard and staggered around the rise of the hill and laid down.  Dax and I walked over to check things out and the oryx was laying there with blood coming out of his mouth and nose.  I took careful aim at 50 yards and shot him again in the head.  Now it was official -- oryx down.  He is a good trophy.  We took some photos and loaded the oryx into the back of the truck with the help of William our tracker.

So. 23º93.351’  E 17º36.307’  elevation 4,912

NOTE:  William is a local black man who is 55 years old and was wounded in the leg by a landmine in the Angola war back in the late 1970‘s.  William owns a small farm near Farm Garib.  He is a nice fellow and doesn’t say much.  He walks with a limp and I am sorry he is injured.  Sigi respects William a lot for his work ethic.  Sigi hired him and his son to install a 5 kilometer pipeline on Farm Garib last year.   William did the work quick and straight and didn’t ask for any extras.  All the excellent work was done with shovels, picks, and rakes.

Back to the Farm Garib main house for lunch.  The food is awesome here.  We have oryx sirloin tips in gravy over pasta noodles, home made breads, cheeses, green beans, and tossed salad.  Dessert was various fruits and melons cut up and served with a pour over vanilla custard.  The food here is always very delicious and wholesome.  Nap time follows and I am ready.

Back to the main house patio to make a plan of attack for the afternoon hunt.  My GPS had not been working but I got it going for future use.  I am having trouble hooking on to the internet with my phone at Farm Garib. 

Dax, Sigi, William and I go out trying to find something for Dax to hunt.  We tried a couple of stalks but were busted by the wind.  {The animals have a sense of smell maybe 60 times greater than us humans.}  I would travel with the group then stay back as we approached game so I would not make noise nor create additional scent.  No luck for us.  We drove on deeper in to the farm and we saw springbok, red hartebeest, meerkats, steenbok, cow kudu with calves, and a few oryx.  We traveled over to the Valley of Death where Dax and Sigi made a stalk up the hill to the top for outlook over the entire valley.  William and I stayed back from the summit of the hill waiting for the shot and then we would join the others.  30 minutes of waiting and no shot so I eased my way up to within 15 yards of the hunter and P.H.  They were watching some 10-12 oryx cross through the Valley of Death.  Dax was after a meat oryx {non-trophy}.  Dax and Sigi watched as two oryx worked their way across the bottom of the valley.  I lazered the oryx at 348 yards, a do-able shot.  No shot.  The oryx fed closer still and I lazered them at 300 yards and even better shot, I just knew Dax would shoot.  No shot.  When the meat oryx were at 213 yards Dax fired a single round and took one of the two oryx down.  William and Dax walked down the hill face to the downed oryx.  I went with Sigi to the truck and drove around the foot of the hill to within loading distance of the meat oryx.  The sun was just going down.   I was proud of my boy.  He is a better hunter than me.  We took some photos and loaded the animal into the truck for transport to processing.  It was about 2 years old and an excellent meat animal.  We drove back to the farm house.

Jule, Sigi’s wife and daughter of Hans Peter and Frauke, and her boys Janne and Xander came to dinner tonight with all the hunters and the guides.  So nice to see Jule.  Dinner was the usual German fare -- cold cuts, cheeses, good bread, tuna salad, and a few grapes.  It was nice. 

After the meal, I gave the boys the T-shirts I brought for them.  Janne got the Ninja Turtle one and Xander received the robot critters one.  They both like the shirts a lot.  Janne put his on immediately over his other clothes.   He wore it for several days thereafter.  I gave Jule the Native American necklace I had brought her. It is made with silver and turquoise.  She thanked me but doesn’t seem to be the ‘jewelry’ type girl.  I gave Sigi a stainless steel thermos bottle shaped into the image of a 12 gauge shot shell. I don’t think he was impressed.  He thanked me.  We sat around a fire just off the patio after dinner and talked to each other. 

I got to know the other P.H.s some.  Jorn is a German guy who has been in Namibia for 40 years.  He is about 55 years old and single.  He was married once but his wife took him to the cleaners in a divorce so he is a dedicated bachelor now.  He and Sigi go way back as pals.  Jorn was in the Namibian army and was an infantry Lieutenant for about 8 years.  Ben, the P.H., is about 38 years old and has a farm to run but loves hunting.  He is a P.H. and very kind and tries to help out all the time.  Ben always does more than his share of any task at hand.  He impresses me. 

Real hot today maybe 85º+ couldn’t seem to get enough water.  Pealed off a layer at 11:30 a.m. then some better.  I wish I would have brought some gator-aide powder.  Next time.  Overall a 7 out of 10 day.  Back at my room I had a shower and wrote this down.  I will sleep well tonight.

BEEN THERE DONE THAT -- It was so dang fun again ! ! !

Craig, Ben S, Jim S, Jorn, Bounty Hunter 6, Ben P.H. Sigi, Dax

 April 7, 2019, Sunday morning at 3 a.m. the adventure begins.  We ride the St. George Shuttle to the airport in Las Vegas and are rummy from the loss of sleep from the get-go.  I really, really like going hunting in Africa BUT, the getting there and getting back are way hard on an old man like me.  I have noticed the 30ish year old guys have a hard time as well.  BASICALLY, two days traveling in tight quarters can and will kick anyone's butt.

NOTICE:  I purposely went through air terminals outside NYC to avoid the enema of NYC rules and cops.  We journeyed through Atlanta, GA and all went without a hitch.  We checked our bags, including firearms and ammunition, all the way to Windhoek, Namibia and didn't have to do anything else with our rifles and ammo.  This is the way to travel.  NON-New York City !

We arrived at Farm Garib, Namibia at around  12:48 a.m. on Wednesday April 9, 2019.  I had been awake since Sunday morning early and now can verify I was truly tired.  I fall asleep and hope the parametics have the paddles to wake me up in the morning for breakfast and hunting. 

Wednesday April 9, 2019
Farm Garib, Namibia  South 23º08.085'  East 17º37.938'  elevation 4,817 {Look it up on Google Earth -- you can see me in court yard waving up at the satalite.}

Arise, shower, shave, dress for success, and breakfast.  Food is the typical German fare -- cold cuts, a variety of great flavored cheeses, white and whole grain bread with jam.  Scrambled eggs are available on request.  Coffee, hot chocolate, soda, water -- whatever to drink.   {The coffee here is better than anywhere else in the world. I have a bad heart and still sneak a cup before breakfast -- so delicious.}  The air is so clean here.  The sky is more than blue.  The people are dear friends.  I was so tired when I woke up I can imagine this is kind of how heaven will be someday.  We divide up into groups to go hunting during breakfast.  First, however we need to check the zero on our rifles.  Three trucks, with 5 hunters, 3 guides (P.H.'s), and 3 trackers go out to the rifle range just a few kilometers from the house.  We each set up on a concrete bench and fire some rounds at 100 meters on a paper target.  Most everyone is real close to zero and can make just a minor adjustment or two and we are off in three different directions looking for various plains game animals.

My son Dax and I are with Sigi Hess, P.H. extraordinaire, and tracker William Scot.  Sigi, Dax, and I have history together.  We have been on two other hunts in the past.  I just happend to have a deck of cards in my backpack.  I let Dax draw a card and I draw a card to see who hunts first.  He draws a 5 of clubs and I draw a 10 of hearts.  Goddess Diana is smiling at me this beautiful morning.  The environment is perfect.  Maybe 70º F, no wind and not a cloud to be seen in the sky. The farm has had some tough times due to a lingering drought.  Farmers need to see some rain, but the hunting weather is more or less perfect for me.

We are actually out in the veld at around 10:30 a.m.  We see several oryx running around between the large bushes and trees as we travel.  They are so pretty and so graceful.  They seem to move effortlessly at about 15 MPH through the sandy rises and rills.  I dismount from the truck and make a stalk with good wind.  As I get near the oryx for a shot the wind shifts and the oryx take off due to my gringo smell in their noses.  This scenario plays out maybe three more times without a shot.  I am OK with everything.  I am having a super good time.  I am at Farm Garib with my son on a perfect morning hunting.  It just doesn't get much better than this.  {I invited my other son but he couldn't get the time off work.  DANG.}

We hunt until lunch hour and start to hunt our way back to the house for lunch.  On the returning trip we see a bat eared fox hanging aorund a cattle watering tank.  The fox is obviously impared.  he has rabies.  The P.H., Sigi, gets a tire iron from behind the seat of the truck and starts to go end the fox's misery.  He doesn't want his cattle infected by the animal either.  When the fox sees Sigi he runs about 60 yards away toward a fence line.  I ask Sigi if he wants me to shoot it?  Sigi says yes if you want to.  Understand that here in Namibia ammo is very expensive.  A single round for my .338 win mag rifle costs over $6.00 US.  I take aim and fire at the fox.  The .338 proves to be sufficient to end his disease.  {See my earlier post in praise of the .338}  We head on towards the farm house for lunch.

Maybe one kilometer from the bat eared fox issue we see a lone oryx bull standing up on a hill side.  He is older and not with the herd.  I asked Sigi if he is a good one.  He says "Yes."  I take aim and fire at about 250 yards off my bipod.  It is a steady shot and the bullet flies true.  The bullet impacts in the back end of the oryx rib cage as he is quartering away from me.  The Barnes .338 caliber 225 grain bullet travels through the entire distance of the oryx taking out liver, lungs, and the top of the heart before lodging against the hide on the far side of his chest.  He staggers about 10 yards and lays down to die.  Dax and I walk up on him cautiously and we decided to shoot him again in the head or neck to end him quick.  I take aim and fire at about 50 yards and it is way over for the oryx.  We claim our prize and take some photos.  I am pleased to have this animal.  He is a mature older bull and a great trophy.  The meat will be welcome to many folks around the farm community.  I too will enjoy this guy in just a few days.  Oryx meat is one of the best game meats I have ever had.  It is better than rocky mountain elk to me.  We take some photos and load the beast into the truck and head back for lunch.

South 23º93.514'  East 17º36.307'

IN PRAISE OF THE .338 Win. Mag.

I have just returned from an 8 day safari in Namibia with my son.  We had an excellent adventure.  We took many plains game species out on the veld.  The food was excellent, the accommodations were first rate, and the P.H. was truly a friend.  I want to show you all the photos and tell the story but first I need to show you a scan of my patron saint cartridge the .338 Win Mag.

Both my son and I shoot a .338 Win Mag rifle and it has performed outstandingly over the years.  My son named his "The Designated Hitter".  He has taken game from jackrabbits to elk with his trusty rifle and a Leupold 3-9X 50mm LR scope.  He is confident at shooting big game up to 500 yards with the combination.  I named my rifle Darth Maul after the color scheme on the stock.  I have taken many animals with this fine shooter.  More later on the Africa trip.

P.S.  Chizzler season is the craps.  No animals to speak of.  The farmers love the situation they are going to make a profit this year.  I, as a chizzler reaper, am thoroughly unhappy.  Bounty Hunter 6 and I have been to Iron County Utah to hunt vermin three times and the most we ever harvested were about 75 each one day in March.  Prospects seem way bad for chizzler hunters.

The Chizzler Cycle is BAD

I have been to Beryl two times in 2019 with Bounty Hunter 6.  Both trips north we encountered less than stellar chizzler numbers.  The alfalfa is not out of the ground yet.  I can't imagine what is taking SPRING?  There is a shadow fear in my mind that the chizzler cycle is bottoming out. Perhaps disease or climate change or something from a galaxy far, far away has taken the chizzlers to another dimension?  I guess time will tell.

I did see a Yeti Chizzler the other day.  Perhaps you have seen one too?

CAUTION:  These rare animals are protected by the United Nations and there are sky-blue helmeted fellows guarding the fields where they might be encountered.  The U N soldiers are from far away places and don't speak english or spanish, therefore, they can only be approached with candy or beer or by shapely young girls.  Best idea is to go on to another pivot or field when you are hunting chizzlers and see the U N chaps stationed in your prospective alfalfa field.  {Just thought you would like to know.}

A PICTURE IS WORTH 1,000 WORDS . . .

Finally, Bounty Hunter 6 and I were able to connect with some chizzlers in Beryl, Utah.  There is not any green alfalfa showing in the various fields yet, but some vermin were out on the prowl looking for food and friendship.  We reaped about 75 each and considered it a reasonable FIRST DAY of the 2019 chizzler hunting season.

NOT YET -- -- Dang It!

Bounty Hunter 6 and I drove to the chizzler capital of our world on Tuesday afternoon, 2-26-2019, and we were looking for vermin to end.  We had sighted in our new Savage .22 magnum rifles that morning and wanted to know if these M93's were strong enough and straight shooting enough to terminate the hearty early season chizzlers at distance. 

It was a pleasant enough drive up north to Iron County through the snow covered passes of the mountains.  I was getting more circumspect with every mile looking at the snow outside the truck.  The wind was blowing and it was cold as heck upon arrival in the chizzler fields. . . .  NO CHIZZLERS -- not even one eskimo sub-species or a drunk wanderer chizzler.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.  What a let down.  I was so in the mood to harvest profit stealers for the farmers.

I am on "anxious hold" for the weather to break and the vermin to surface.  I am really excited to get to work on the varmint reduction duty I have elected myself to.  My new rifle is needing a work out.  I hope it is stout enough for the job at hand.

SO READY TO GO HUNTING . . .

I have been wanting to go hunting so much. 

Nothing is in season. 

I decided to not shave for 10 days and watch hunting shows on TV or YouTube every night. Did my therapy work? 

NO. 

I just got distancing looks around town like I was a crusty old homeless man. I can hardly wait for chizzler season to break open in mid to late Feb.