NW James
AH member
- Joined
- Aug 24, 2017
- Messages
- 46
- Reaction score
- 101
- Location
- MD
- Media
- 17
- Member of
- NRA, SCI
- Hunted
- USA- Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Massachusetts, Missouri, Vermont, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Texas, Oklahoma, Iowa, Kansas, Colorado, Alaska, Canada- Quebec, Nunavik, NewBrunswick, South Africa.
Well, the time had finally come. Sunday, July 30th, and we were at Dulles Airport beginning our journey to South Africa. It had started a little less than a year ago when my neighbor and good friend Ryan had suggested hunting in Africa instead of a trip out west for elk. We had thrown some ideas around during the first week or 2 of dove season, and I just never gave it any serious consideration even after he gave me a few details comparing prices. It was a few weeks later when we were driving over to his grandfathers to hunt doves again that the wheels started in motion. My wife had jumped in his truck as we came by his house to go to the farm. I drove in mine, with another friend who was in town to visit. So Ryan tells Gwen on the ride over of his suggestion for Africa, and that was all it took. She brought it up to me briefly while hunting, and again on the ride home. After telling her of nearly 2 decades of discussing a trip with another close friend who had done South Africa and Botswanna when in his 20s, and never seeing it materialize, and despite traveling the US and Canada with him and his family on many other trips for big game and birds, maybe I just didn't think it possible. She was pretty excited about the idea, which of course motivated me more. After all, when we bought our house 5 years ago, the first comment she made about the great room was "You need to fill this with dead animals", and here we are now at the airport.
Thanks so much Ryan and Gwen. I love you both. (Just in completely different ways!).
So, 20-30 minutes of line to check in, another 20-30 of watching TSA do their thing (whatever that may be- they didn't even open my case) and seeing our gun cases go on the conveyor belt, we headed off for a quick meal before the flight. Finally aboard, in the air, enduring the background whine of the engines, (which I became acutely aware at some point after Ryan let me try his noise cancelling headphones- highly recommended), and constantly trying to find that position where you butt won't go numb any more. A quick stop in Dakar, then the last leg and we were on the ground. Rifle Permits had a rep waiting for us thanks to using their VIP service. He walked us down to where we met with Henri, and spotted Jonathon from Pawprints. A quick intro and we had the rifles checked and and were on our way to the truck and the drive to Pawprint's new base of operations at Balule Bush Lodge in Northwest Province. It was dark for the drive, so the features that stood out the most for the less than 2 hour ride were clearly the intermittent fires. Jonathon explained that they were no big deal, a regular occurance, and were usually intentional. We arrived at the lodge, got our stuff settled into our assigned chalets. The rooms were very spacious, with 2 smaller beds and a larger one ( maybe a queen size, I don't know my mattresses that well). There was a sliding glass door at the rear, with a patio and outdoor covered kitchen, and open fenced yard, overlooking what was now a dry pond. We went to the bar to meet everyone and make plans. Pieter explained that dinner would be shortly, and that Ryan would be hunting with Jonathon and Gwen and I would be with Jan. We planned to sleep in a bit, check the rifles and bow after breakfast and then go hunt. Dinner was fantastic, buffalo tenderloin steaks with a blue cheese cream sauce. I tend the remember the meat in every meal, not so much the vegetables, though there was plenty of variety through the week on both. On a side note, Gwen quickly became acquainted with Claudius, the chef, and began plans to exchange email addresses and recipes. We have had that blue cheese cream sauce twice now since getting home! It is awesome! We met Jan's wife and their new baby, as well as Kobus, who had owned the lodge before Pieter, and was with us throughout the week in various capacities and tended the bar most evenings as well.
Tuesday, August 1- we woke up, got ready and had the first full breakfast of many for the trip, then headed over to the range to check equipment. Ryan was first, and didn't like his first shot. He took another and was right where it should be. I set up my rifle on the bags, aimed at the bottom of what I guessed to be the 4" bullseye and squeezed of a shot. The call of "dead center" confirmed that my 300 win mag was still on, being just a little less than 2" high at 100 yards, and dead on at 200. Now to the bow. I had a crowd there as we walked up to the target and paced off 20 yards. I drew back my 65lb Hoyt Defiant, settled the top 20 yard pin in the 2"x4" piece of paper pinned to the backstop and waited for the shot to break as the pin floated around the target. It went off and everyone seemed satisfied with the shot. Same thing for 30, and 40 yards. At 50 though, I hit 2-3" low. I shot another low arrow. Frustrated I let another fly, also a little low.
I retrieved my practice arrows and decided to shoot a few at 40 to warm up then check 50 again. I was once a sponsored competitive archer, and this would not do. I had been told that if I wanted to spot and stalk, be prepared to shoot as far as 50, and I wasn't gonna go out unprepared. I went back to 50 and again grouped slightly low, though the other pins were perfect. I decided to check 50 again tomorrow, since some days your body just does things differently with a bow, just like a golf swing. Let's go hunt I told everyone.
I changed to sharp broadheads, and Gwen and I got in the truck with Jan, my tracker Max, and we left to hunt a nearby property. We weren't there 10 minutes when Max stopped to point out a duiker ewe watching us from thick cover. We continued to drive a bit, having the rifle out now for the first day, and next saw a small flash of grayish blur go through the bush near the trail we were on. Max and Jan spoke quickly in Afrikaans, then Jan explained that it was a pretty good duiker ram. Did I wanna go after it? Hell yeah I said. We quietly got off the truck. Gwen elected to stay back on this stalk, as did Max. 5 minutes in we spotted it looking straight away. Jan confirmed he was one we wanted as I tried to settle onto the sticks. 1 of the 3 legs hadn't locked, and the rifle dropped away into my forward hand as he trotted off unspooked. I told Jan I was comfortable shooting offhand at these ranges, and we circled off a ways to try to catch up. We did shortly. Jan said to just hold on him and shoot when he raised his head as he was feeding. Darned if he didn't keep his head down and walk behind more brush. We never caught up with him. Back at the truck I explained all to Gwen. I told her she would not believe how much animal poop there was out there. Nothing like I had ever imagined. We retired Jan's sticks for the trip and broke out my relatively new, identical telescoping tripod sticks. As we drove, we ran into impala sporadically, and finally a few nyala bulls. We all got down and made a stalk on them. After quite a while, and after seeing one through binoculars a few times, I finally got on the sticks as Jan described the animals I was seeing through my scope. He pointed out the obvious one on the left, then the right. Then asked if I could see the one in back. I couldn't. Then he turned his head and I saw him briefly before they took off. We lost them after that and returned to the truck. On the way back Jan said the 3rd one was a monster, and we should plan on coming back after lunch to look for that group. We drove bit more, before heading back to the lodge only 5 minutes away for lunch.
After lunch we returned to the same property with nyala at the forefront of our thoughts. Luckily, we ran into the landowner, who said he had seen 3 nyala bulls, one bigger than the others, in the opposite direction from where we had seen them last, and not long ago. We instantly headed off in the direction he recommended. A beautiful flat area with tons of tall yellow grass, I caught myself thinking how nice it would be to walk through with a shotgun, a pair of pointing dogs fliting in and out of sight in their search for pheasants. Back to reality as we began to transition to interspersed brush along with the tall grass, and I heard Max and Jan speaking in Afrikaans again and pointing uphill into a thicker area. I asked what was up without waiting for explanation. Jan said that Max had spotted the group a ways ahead of us. He then asked if I wanted to know just what Max's words in Afrikaans were. When I replied yes, he smiled and told me "he said it's f##*ing big!" We all laughed as we got down and quickly started the stalk. Two more times we set up the sticks and didn't get a chance, now hurrying to try to cut them off. I glanced back occasionally to make sure Gwen was keeping up, as I know my breathing was getting a little labored, and I wasn't quite ready to let her fall behind and have to double back to see if she was an effective leopard bait, as I told her could happen. Then we stepped out from cover as Max set up the sticks and I watched a nyala disappear in the grass. As I set up the rifle and tried to catch my breath another stepped out broadside at 75 yards or so. Jan said to shoot him. I could only see the top third of his body in the grass, so I aimed at a small gap in the grass as low as I could hold on him and began to squeeze the trigger. He sat still watching as I kept squeezing what was a 2 3/4lb trigger and nothing was happening. SHIT! I had the model 70 safety in the middle position still! A quick flick with my thumb, I still had the sight picture, and BOOM! I knew I had been focused because I saw him drop through the scope. You got him Jan said as we hurried up to see him. He handed me his 9mm pistol, stating that the safety was off, and to put a slug between his eye and his ear to stop the thrashing. I did, and he stopped. I had hit him high on the shoulder muscle, and probability damage the spine with the shock from the bullet. He was beautiful as expected. Jan reiterated again that this was truly a fine nyala bull. We took some pictures, then loaded him up as Jan suggested we spend the last 1 1/2 hours in a bow blind and see what comes out.
I will come back to the post to finish the story of day 1 in when I get a chance.
Thanks so much Ryan and Gwen. I love you both. (Just in completely different ways!).
So, 20-30 minutes of line to check in, another 20-30 of watching TSA do their thing (whatever that may be- they didn't even open my case) and seeing our gun cases go on the conveyor belt, we headed off for a quick meal before the flight. Finally aboard, in the air, enduring the background whine of the engines, (which I became acutely aware at some point after Ryan let me try his noise cancelling headphones- highly recommended), and constantly trying to find that position where you butt won't go numb any more. A quick stop in Dakar, then the last leg and we were on the ground. Rifle Permits had a rep waiting for us thanks to using their VIP service. He walked us down to where we met with Henri, and spotted Jonathon from Pawprints. A quick intro and we had the rifles checked and and were on our way to the truck and the drive to Pawprint's new base of operations at Balule Bush Lodge in Northwest Province. It was dark for the drive, so the features that stood out the most for the less than 2 hour ride were clearly the intermittent fires. Jonathon explained that they were no big deal, a regular occurance, and were usually intentional. We arrived at the lodge, got our stuff settled into our assigned chalets. The rooms were very spacious, with 2 smaller beds and a larger one ( maybe a queen size, I don't know my mattresses that well). There was a sliding glass door at the rear, with a patio and outdoor covered kitchen, and open fenced yard, overlooking what was now a dry pond. We went to the bar to meet everyone and make plans. Pieter explained that dinner would be shortly, and that Ryan would be hunting with Jonathon and Gwen and I would be with Jan. We planned to sleep in a bit, check the rifles and bow after breakfast and then go hunt. Dinner was fantastic, buffalo tenderloin steaks with a blue cheese cream sauce. I tend the remember the meat in every meal, not so much the vegetables, though there was plenty of variety through the week on both. On a side note, Gwen quickly became acquainted with Claudius, the chef, and began plans to exchange email addresses and recipes. We have had that blue cheese cream sauce twice now since getting home! It is awesome! We met Jan's wife and their new baby, as well as Kobus, who had owned the lodge before Pieter, and was with us throughout the week in various capacities and tended the bar most evenings as well.
Tuesday, August 1- we woke up, got ready and had the first full breakfast of many for the trip, then headed over to the range to check equipment. Ryan was first, and didn't like his first shot. He took another and was right where it should be. I set up my rifle on the bags, aimed at the bottom of what I guessed to be the 4" bullseye and squeezed of a shot. The call of "dead center" confirmed that my 300 win mag was still on, being just a little less than 2" high at 100 yards, and dead on at 200. Now to the bow. I had a crowd there as we walked up to the target and paced off 20 yards. I drew back my 65lb Hoyt Defiant, settled the top 20 yard pin in the 2"x4" piece of paper pinned to the backstop and waited for the shot to break as the pin floated around the target. It went off and everyone seemed satisfied with the shot. Same thing for 30, and 40 yards. At 50 though, I hit 2-3" low. I shot another low arrow. Frustrated I let another fly, also a little low.
I retrieved my practice arrows and decided to shoot a few at 40 to warm up then check 50 again. I was once a sponsored competitive archer, and this would not do. I had been told that if I wanted to spot and stalk, be prepared to shoot as far as 50, and I wasn't gonna go out unprepared. I went back to 50 and again grouped slightly low, though the other pins were perfect. I decided to check 50 again tomorrow, since some days your body just does things differently with a bow, just like a golf swing. Let's go hunt I told everyone.
I changed to sharp broadheads, and Gwen and I got in the truck with Jan, my tracker Max, and we left to hunt a nearby property. We weren't there 10 minutes when Max stopped to point out a duiker ewe watching us from thick cover. We continued to drive a bit, having the rifle out now for the first day, and next saw a small flash of grayish blur go through the bush near the trail we were on. Max and Jan spoke quickly in Afrikaans, then Jan explained that it was a pretty good duiker ram. Did I wanna go after it? Hell yeah I said. We quietly got off the truck. Gwen elected to stay back on this stalk, as did Max. 5 minutes in we spotted it looking straight away. Jan confirmed he was one we wanted as I tried to settle onto the sticks. 1 of the 3 legs hadn't locked, and the rifle dropped away into my forward hand as he trotted off unspooked. I told Jan I was comfortable shooting offhand at these ranges, and we circled off a ways to try to catch up. We did shortly. Jan said to just hold on him and shoot when he raised his head as he was feeding. Darned if he didn't keep his head down and walk behind more brush. We never caught up with him. Back at the truck I explained all to Gwen. I told her she would not believe how much animal poop there was out there. Nothing like I had ever imagined. We retired Jan's sticks for the trip and broke out my relatively new, identical telescoping tripod sticks. As we drove, we ran into impala sporadically, and finally a few nyala bulls. We all got down and made a stalk on them. After quite a while, and after seeing one through binoculars a few times, I finally got on the sticks as Jan described the animals I was seeing through my scope. He pointed out the obvious one on the left, then the right. Then asked if I could see the one in back. I couldn't. Then he turned his head and I saw him briefly before they took off. We lost them after that and returned to the truck. On the way back Jan said the 3rd one was a monster, and we should plan on coming back after lunch to look for that group. We drove bit more, before heading back to the lodge only 5 minutes away for lunch.
After lunch we returned to the same property with nyala at the forefront of our thoughts. Luckily, we ran into the landowner, who said he had seen 3 nyala bulls, one bigger than the others, in the opposite direction from where we had seen them last, and not long ago. We instantly headed off in the direction he recommended. A beautiful flat area with tons of tall yellow grass, I caught myself thinking how nice it would be to walk through with a shotgun, a pair of pointing dogs fliting in and out of sight in their search for pheasants. Back to reality as we began to transition to interspersed brush along with the tall grass, and I heard Max and Jan speaking in Afrikaans again and pointing uphill into a thicker area. I asked what was up without waiting for explanation. Jan said that Max had spotted the group a ways ahead of us. He then asked if I wanted to know just what Max's words in Afrikaans were. When I replied yes, he smiled and told me "he said it's f##*ing big!" We all laughed as we got down and quickly started the stalk. Two more times we set up the sticks and didn't get a chance, now hurrying to try to cut them off. I glanced back occasionally to make sure Gwen was keeping up, as I know my breathing was getting a little labored, and I wasn't quite ready to let her fall behind and have to double back to see if she was an effective leopard bait, as I told her could happen. Then we stepped out from cover as Max set up the sticks and I watched a nyala disappear in the grass. As I set up the rifle and tried to catch my breath another stepped out broadside at 75 yards or so. Jan said to shoot him. I could only see the top third of his body in the grass, so I aimed at a small gap in the grass as low as I could hold on him and began to squeeze the trigger. He sat still watching as I kept squeezing what was a 2 3/4lb trigger and nothing was happening. SHIT! I had the model 70 safety in the middle position still! A quick flick with my thumb, I still had the sight picture, and BOOM! I knew I had been focused because I saw him drop through the scope. You got him Jan said as we hurried up to see him. He handed me his 9mm pistol, stating that the safety was off, and to put a slug between his eye and his ear to stop the thrashing. I did, and he stopped. I had hit him high on the shoulder muscle, and probability damage the spine with the shock from the bullet. He was beautiful as expected. Jan reiterated again that this was truly a fine nyala bull. We took some pictures, then loaded him up as Jan suggested we spend the last 1 1/2 hours in a bow blind and see what comes out.
I will come back to the post to finish the story of day 1 in when I get a chance.
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