Recently hunted in South Africa. Anyone want a recap?

You have been patient as I rack up the word count so, before I begin the daily recaps of each of the nine days of hunting, below is a concise summary of what happens starting when the sun rises on April 26 through the last critter tipping over on Day 9 of hunting.

Days away from home: April 23 – May 7, 2024

Days hunted: April 26 - May 4

Days harvested: April 28 – 30, May 2, May 4

The ranch where I stayed: I hunted with Dries Visser Safaris (DVS) mostly on their main Citadel ranch property (offers primarily bow and crossbow hunting) which is in the Limpopo region in South Africa just south of Botswana. Thabazimbi (mountain of iron in the local language) is the closest city and is an iron ore mining town with one of the largest mining shafts in Africa. The city’s population is predominately Black African (83%).

My hunt tally:

=>Using a TenPoint Flatline 460 Oracle X crossbow provided by the ranch, Tenpoint EVO-X Center Punch 16” carbon bolts with expandable tips:

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6 shots taken at big game with the crossbow.

Shot 1 experienced a nock failure which resulted in the flying bolt harmlessly skidding along the dirt on Day 2 of hunting. Damn it. This riddle needs solved as batting .333 now after three bolts have been shot. My technique is consistent. I am not yanking the trigger. Riddle is solved before I load another bolt on the crossbow.

Shot 2 harvested an Impala on Day 3 of hunting.

Shot 3 harvested a Cape buffalo bull (the bolt’s tip was changed to a single-bevel 200 grain Maasai GrizzlyStik broadhead) on Day 4 of hunting.

Shot 4 harvested a Gemsbok on Day 4 of hunting.

Shot 5 harvested a Kudu on Day 5 of hunting.

Shot 6 harvested a Blesbok on Day 7 of hunting.


=>Using a .375 CZ Rifle with scope, provided by the ranch:

No shots taken though tried four stalks on Cape buffalo bulls through the thick bushveld after cutting tracks or seeing a bull dart off the road. If I was more comfortable with shouldering the rifle and field-judging a bull in under ten seconds then on two of the stalks could have shot. Is a bang-bang moment and I never made a bang-bang happen.


=>Using a .30-06 CZ Rifle with scope and suppressor, provided by the ranch:

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No shots taken on an afternoon when drove over an hour to property owned by the in-laws of Jr. and unsuccessfully tried three stalks close to springbok before they bounded far, far away in mere seconds. If you have hunted pronghorn watching them zoom along at 60 mph then springbok at 55 mph is also impressive.

On the last day I hunted, I fired three shots after visited a property 30 minutes away from the ranch. The bushveld had recently been thinned so was could see 100 yards at times.

Shot 1 harvested a Blue Wildebeest on Day 9 though I did not fully settle into the scope and stock so the point of impact did not match where I held the crosshairs. Was the only animal I did not drill in the boiler room on the South African adventure. Tracking by Phillip and Charlie was required as the animal went out of view for over 100 yards. I accidently clipped the jugular low on the neck so was lucky as had been on Day 2 when the crossbow bolt skidded on the ground rather than hit the gemsbok poorly. I adjust my posture before my next shot.

Shot 2 harvested a Nyala on Day 9 of hunting.

Shot 3 harvested a Sable on Day 9 of hunting.

Why hunt on other properties? Some species of big game will thrive in specific types of terrain so might need to troop-move to hunt along a river or along tall ridges. A few sub-species will interbreed so only one variety of zebra can be on one property. Sometimes, is merely wanderlust and curiosity.

Weather: Temperatures during my visit spanned from a low of 43F/6C to a high of 91F/33C which was 10F degrees warmer than typical for my visit that spanned into early May. Skies were bright blue for the most part during daylight hours. Winds were most often no more than a mild breeze other than my first day of hunting when gusts exceeded 30 mph for hours.

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Photograph: L to R - Blue Wildebeest, Kudu, Impala, Gemsbok, Sable, Nyala, Cape buffalo and Blesbuck
 
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Very much enjoying your writing @LopeHunter

Your situational awareness should be commended. I’ve traveled some with people in the group being absolutely unaware that they themselves are a soft juicy target.

I find myself missing the smell of a safari campfire often
 
Okay, let’s get hunting!!

April 26: 5:30am alarm – I had been up since 405am. A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go, Heigh ho, the dairy-o, a hunting we will go!

Happy 63rd Birthday to me!! Friday the 26th should be twice as lucky as Friday the 13th if my math is correct.

I showered. My patience spanning several decades has me now lacing up my Russell’s while in Africa. I headed to the dining lodge to check email. I could hear one of the staff checking in with local ranches using a shortwave radio for mutual security purposes each morning and perhaps in the evening.

The Cape Turtle doves are singing outside the lodge! Dawn is tip-toeing closer.

6:20am - Warm breakfast with eggs, meat, toast, cereal, coffee and fresh juice. Gathered up the ice ingots and filled my water bottle. This meal felt like breakfast time though I would nod off a couple of times in the blind during the first couple of days.

The realness is setting in as Stian and I walked outside to load gear into the truck where Phillip and Charlie the tracking dog patiently waited. I had my camera, water bottle, hat to help block the sun on stalks, journal and pen, animal and plant identification guides, energy snack bar and my cell phone.

6:55am – We headed out along “Powerline” road named for the powerlines which bring power to the lodge and agricultural zones. Stain’s truck got rocked by crosswinds. This was easily the windiest day during my visit. Phillip dropped Stian and myself at the blind along with our gear and sack lunches. Stain and I were planning to be in the blind until sunset. Charlie hopped into the back of the truck with Phillip who headed off to do some chores while waited for a radio call from Stain. Stian checked the memory card from the game camera. Nothing of note since last evening.

7:25am Has been daylight for an hour as we unpacked items inside the concrete blind. Dust would swirl as the sustained 10 mph breeze frequently gusted to 30 mph with several stiffer blows early in the afternoon when trees over 60’ tall were swaying. The wind calmed by 4pm.

Not enough trees near the blind to create an overlapping canopy of shade to keep the blind cool later in the afternoon. Bushes and some small thorn trees comprised most of the undergrowth visible near the blind. I could see 60 yards along two different corridors maintained by intentional thinning of the undergrowth. Most thorn bushes and the other scrub brush are under five feet tall. A few trees are above 15’ tall though not many. There were some much taller trees a half mile in the distance.

As expected, any vegetation you bumped could scratch, jab or slice into you. The vegetation’s ill temper reminded me of southwestern Texas above Del Rio where years prior I hunted once.

I would provide small blood sacrifices multiple times during this adventure.

The concrete blind we sat in is a cube about 8’ on each edge. About 3’ of the blind’s height is below ground level. A short metal ladder affixed to the inside of the blind beneath the door’s opening makes it simple to safely enter the blind.

There are eight windows and one entry door. Two of the windows have hinges and one of those is a slit window 10” wide and 30” tall designed for comfortably shooting a bow or crossbow though the opening. I have seen similar openings while touring castles in England.

Two more windows are sliders. Two ventilation vents are near the ceiling though are sealed off while hunting. This useful design and size of blind was typical at the ranch.

Stain set up a tripod then clamped the crossbow into place. He had me check the height for fit. I practiced pivoting the crossbow to understand how far I could rotate side to side and still have the bolt clear the window’s opening. After my shot tunneling into the dirt last evening I did not want to ricochet a pointy bolt around the inside of the blind.

Stian cranked a tool to position the crossbow’s string so could be cocked and locked. Safety was on. Stian loaded a 16” bolt with an expandable tip into the groove of the crossbow. Looked great. Now, we wait using two comfortable chairs to sit.

Besides the two groomed corridors, our view from the blind looks at a recessed, concrete basin containing a few inches of water 20’ in front of the blind. The basin is perhaps 15’ wide and 10’ front to back when viewing from the blind. An array of logs and rocks on the far edge of this basin would help to steer animals to align broadside as they stand and drink.

To the left side of the water basis about 20 feet is a recessed area about 2’ square which contains a salt block. A similar set up to the right side of the water can hold a couple of gallon buckets of feed but was empty last evening and this morning. The three basins are along an arc well within range for a modern bow or crossbow.

Supplemental feed was not yet being distributed around the ranch yet but would be placed at blinds before my visit ended. Small feed buckets on posts are dotted along the miles and miles of dirt roads. The feed will pull animals out of the bushveld if the feed placement is consistent.

The concrete blind provides relief from the sun, wind and rain. No rain fell during my time at the ranch. The concrete structure retains some warmth overnight which is nice on chilly mornings but by afternoon could be very warm inside depending on the amount of shade and outside temperature.

The blind is virtually snake-proof. I do not hate snakes. I frequently encountered non-venomous snakes as a youth on the farm, in the woods and around creeks. Snakes eat rodents so we were taught to leave and let be. Our farm very rarely hosted rattlesnakes, copperheads and water moccasins and they were quickly dispatched.

I have encountered dozens of rattlesnakes on hunts out West. Never felt the need to kill one. The only time I got nervous around a snake when hunting was during a muzzleloader pronghorn adventure in NM on a windy day while I was trail-busting though a stand of waist-high sage. I was six long strides into the sage when a distinct buzzing began very close to me then stopped. I froze mid-step then after a few seconds the buzzing repeated for longer. I hopped, skipped and jumped backtracking out of the sage. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug. I lobbed a few small rocks into the sage which got the snake to sound off several times. I could never see the aggravated snake. The monster you never see is the one that becomes nightmare fuel.

I ask Stian what big game species he suspected would come to water first. “Kudu.”

11:40am – We finally have four-legged visitors! Warthogs!! No interest in sending a bolt that way. Were fun to observe as they jockeyed for position to drink the water. The warthogs definitely exhibited a pecking order.

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The stiff winds seem to be a factor keeping animals inside in the bushveld. A recent rainstorm left several areas of standing water in the bushveld so no pressing need to visit the water at the blind but even if did then there are dozens of empty blinds with water.

Since I am the only hunter today is unlikely any animals are being bumped to head to this blind. Plenty of hunters are arriving over the next few days and no rain is expected to replenish the standing water so perhaps that will shake things up a bit. Looking back, supplemental feeding which was about to begin seems to be the biggest influence on the increased amount of game animals which approached the blind later in the hunt.
 
April 26
11:45am Phillip and Charlie briefly visit after Stian had called out to him using the radio. Phillip is not seeing animal movement along the roads. We stay.

11:50am – More animals arrive and Phillip only left a couple of minutes ago. Two waterbuck does and one buck arrive. Reminded me of mules. Not something I plan to shoot.

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2:50pm – Ancient eland bull appears then more warthogs. The color reminds me of a grey Brahma rodeo bull. Tempting me as the huge beast strikes the broadside pose though I pass. I made this trip because Cape buffalo, kudu and impala are what have danced around my daydreams for five decades. Any other animals are of less interest though over the next few days I will harvest eight species.

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4:10pm – Decent impala ram with five does. Those horns! Iconic to me as what defines Africa plains game even more so than the spiral-horned kudu. The ram is chasing the does as the rut is approaching. Is nice to see this energetic display. A mature impala ram is a priority for me though is only Day 1 and I have some hope a ram with “goofy” horns might show up. I have a goofy-horned pronghorn and Coues whitetail on the wall patiently waiting for a buddy.

5:00pm – Phillip arrives with Charlie. We hop in the back of the truck with Charlie to check game cameras at a couple of other blinds then head to the lodge arriving about 5:40pm while the sun was setting. The breeze as the truck rolls along is refreshing as had been warm enough for me to sweat that afternoon inside the blind. My ice water with the ingots had been my buddy.

No birthday harvest for me. The barrel held no fish. Day 1 was not a steady stream of big game. I have several more days to hunt so no pressure being felt.

Stian dropped us at the lodge then he headed out to drag brush behind the truck to make it simpler to detect fresh Cape buffalo tracks crossing the road when the sun rises tomorrow.

Will Black Death hit the dirt tomorrow? Will I come face to face with cornerstone animal of my African dream? Will I stand firm as aim true will steadily squeeze the trigger on the .375 or will this old man’s eyes and reflexes undermined by the passing decades be my undoing?

I showered after putting the sweaty clothes in the magic hamper which would then return clean tomorrow neatly folded on the foot of my bed. You really do only need two sets of hunting clothes. I changed into fresh clothes for dinner.

The evening entree was braised impala ribs with several tasty side dishes followed by a homemade birthday cake as we celebrated my 63rd. I thought back to all my solo backpack hunts out West where I went days without bathing, ate Mountain House meals and slept in a small tent using a sleeping bag and a foam pad. Ranch hunting here at DVS is the Ritz-Carlton by comparison!

Checked email while sitting in the trophy room at the lodge then sent a few iPhone photographs of Day 1 to family and friends and posted a couple to social media. Transferred my DSLR pictures onto my laptop where could later do some post-editing. Birthday greetings were flowing in on my social media from friends and acquaintances. Ah, they really, really like me. Dozens of people commented on pictures from today that I am living their dream.

I limit social media photographs to pre-harvest.

Breakfast tomorrow will be at 5:30am allowing us to be in the field before first light.
 
April 27: 4:45am alarm – I was still asleep as the alarm sounded. Showered again, dressed quickly and arrived at the lodge with some extra time so I checked email again. Another wonderful breakfast. We headed out to the truck. Cape buffalo is the goal. Stalking with a rifle. Into the bushveld. Snakes. Ticks. Thorns. Let’s do this!

5:45am – Drove 15 minutes to a crossroads. Not enough light yet to see tracks without the headlights or a flashlight. I practiced placing the .375 rifle onto the shooting sticks then getting some muscle memory for how felt when my right cheek aligned with the stock at the correct eye relief from the scope and while holding the crosshairs level. I need to remember to remove my prescription eyeglasses when using this rifle. I have my glasses rigged to a cord so I can remove them quickly.

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6:40am – We now had enough light to see tracks. Stian slowly drove leaning his head out the window to look for Cape buffalo tracks. Phillip also was looking for tracks as he “surfed” on the front of the truck balanced on the bumper and hood.

Lots of mammal tracks in the dust though were also tracks left by a python, several mamba, a cobra and a puff adder which all leave distinct trails in the dusty road. Welp, not going to unsee those.

Phillip would use one hand to indicate Cape buffalo tracks and which direction the animals headed off the road. Ideally, we would encounter tracks left by a solo bull or a small group of bulls which were moving where the very light breeze would be in our favor as attempt a stalk. Large tracks do not guarantee impressive horns.

7:05am - Phillip and Stian like the track of a solo bull and the wind is in our favor if the bull is headed to a large water hole in the bushveld.

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After 25 minutes of careful, methodical steps the tracks led to the water and away from the water. The bull was now headed deeper into the bushveld and the wind would not be good.

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This Picture: Lots to see in the bushveld. Remnants of a Guinea Fowl nest raided by a Rock Monitor lizard which can exceed 6' long and 35 pounds.

Phillip back-tracked to get the truck while Stian and I walked to another road to check for tracks. We got in the truck and drove a mile then walked towards another water hole where the breeze was in our favor. No fresh tracks and no buffalo as neared the water though some impala were on the far side.

Back to the truck and drove another mile where we saw a bull was in the road 250 yards in front of us. The bull was staring at us. Stian and I bailed out while Phillip backed the truck up and did a three-point turn to leave.

We headed into the bushveld about 50 yards then paralleled the road while walking towards the bull. We could not see the road at times and never the bull. We waited at one of these openings about 100 yards from where the bull was seen. After another ten minutes Stian walked to the road to look and the bull was walking our way in the road so he motioned for me to move to about 20 yards from the road as he met me and we waited. Perhaps I could have gone onto the road to attempt a shot at the though likely would have involved a frontal shot. I want a broadside shot. The bull never appeared. We would find that the bull had left the road on the other side and angled into the bushveld. Wind would be wrong to follow those tracks. The roads are a grid so drive back to the nearest intersection to see if the bull would pop out on the road perpendicular to where we had walked. No bull appeared so was now about an hour since had spotted this bull so we drove looking for tracks again.

10:10am Decided to stop at a blind to crossbow hunt. Was a different blind today. Stian checked the game camera. Lots of impala activity as the rut was heating up for them. A black wildebeest had died near the blind months ago and the skull and bones were visible as we entered the blind.

Entering the blind and setting up the crossbow was much faster as I could help a bit and Stian had a better idea of the height as set up the tripod. Wind at 5 mph. Very few clouds. Getting warm.

10:55am Solo impala ram came to water after slowly circling behind the blind. Mature. Did not have a black nose bridge which I find more interesting.

11:10am Warthog appeared.

12:30pm Five gemsbok appeared and bedded beyond the water at 60 yards.

1:05pm Gemsbok have stood twice and slightly moved just to bed again. Warthogs with one piglet come to water.

2:30pm Gemsbok are up and about 35 yards to the largest bull. Does not appear they will water, per Stian. Stian carefully opens the hinged window at the crossbow then the smaller hinged window where he can observe and film the shot. I shift the safety off and slowly squeeze the trigger. The gemsbok is almost fully broadside and standing still.

Crap. Another bolt into the dirt. Thankfully a clean miss. Crossbow seems in good working order. Stian retrieved the bolt and was inspecting the bolt and setting it back on the crossbow. The nock was broken as was the case when I was at the range. One weak nock failing and making it past quality control during manufacturing is unexpected. Two nocks failing seems highly improbable.

Stian looked at the rest of the bolts which were new and which he had bought for me locally the prior trip to the archery store. Stian’s preferred bolts were sold out so bought me a different brand but almost identical. Almost.

The nocks on these bolts were randomly positioned in relation to the vanes and were prone to rotate. Easy to adjust and fix if knew could be an issue.

Phillip brought the target to the blind and Stian shot a bolt with the nock in perfect alignment hitting the bullseye at 35 yards.

315pm We moved blinds and were set up ready for action. On the five-minute drive to this blind we looked for Cape buffalo tracks and saw none. We did see impala, blue wildebeest, sable and warthogs on the road. This was the third blind I had been in on this trip.

We both now began checking each bolt as loaded the crossbow. A bit unnerving to see two shots out of three of my shots corkscrew into the dirt though every hunt has curveballs. The jinx was broken. I shot the crossbow five more times on this adventure. Five animals harvested. Each was a lethal shot. Most animals tipped over in sight of the blind and all fell within 100 yards of being shot.

4:45pm No animals came to water. Lots of birds which kept me busy looking though my identification book. Phillip arrived and we drove along the roads looking for Cape buffalo tracks. Encountered a herd of buffalo but cows and calves with one small bull not fully mature. Swarms of flies as neared where the buffalo were before they raced into the bushveld. Likely millions of flies. Small but annoying flies. We would encounter swarms several more times the next few days. Returned to the lodge. Another very nice meal. Another nice visit around the fire pit.

We will meet for breakfast tomorrow at 5:30am, same time as today.
 
April 28: 4:45am alarm – Woke before the alarm again this morning. Have been skunked on both days of hunting. I could have shot critters, for sure. But, I am not here to stack up animals. I am on a mission which spans over 20% of the time America has been a nation. Yep, I am old and my dreams started when I was young.

Last night, I had been asleep for an hour when the sound of a mosquito echoed into my left ear canal. I zombie-walked to a pile of my gear and pulled out my head net I use for turkey hunting. Thank goodness I did not die in my sleep as that would have been a head-scratcher for someone seeing me in bed with my head inside a camo mesh cocoon.

Did not shower this morning. I had been showing at night then again as woke. Need to figure out a slump-buster. Showering so often may be jinxing me.

I ate big. Corn flakes with milk, banana bread toasted then slathered with butter, a mountain of scrambled eggs resembling the Devil’s Tower mashed potatoes scene in Close Encounters of the Third Kind movie, and three over-sized sausage links. I may be struggling to tip over my first African animal and be on a trajectory towards full Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown but I ate like a king this morning.

A chilly 13F glowed on truck’s information screen in the pre-dawn darkness. 13C. Okay, activate brain. Uh, 13 x 2 is 26 then add 30 so about 56F. Is brisk with a breeze even with my coat and hat so I ride in the front passenger seat rather than the elevated bench in the back of the truck. Yesterday afternoon exceeded 90F.

Lumberjacking skills put to use as tip over a tree which is 15 feet tall and even larger in diameter. Calf-rope the trunk and toss the rope’s loop over the tail hitch. Time to drag this tree fifteen miles over dusty roads so I can hopefully finally scratch the only itch I have from the group of the Deadly Five. Did not see fresh buffalo spoor as drove stirring up heavy clouds of dust.

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We hiked 20 minutes to re-visit the second water hole from yesterday. Sand was on the road rather than red dirt. Sand was so dry and deep that on each step you sink a few inches and then your anchor footing teeter-totters then slides as begin a stride. This was the only sand I navigated on the ranch. Got to the water hole. A kudu skull along the shore but no buffalo.

Back to the truck. Drove to a new blind to check game camera. Drove to another new blind to check the game camera. Drove to another new blind and kudu on the game camera. That works for me. Sat one blind on first day then two yesterday and now this one today plus skipped two blinds on the way to this blind named Klein. A lot of options here and the bushveld varies somewhat between the blinds.

8:35am. Got into the blind as Phillip and Charlie drove off. Sun is up but still brisk. Dead calm. Blind is warmer that the morning air outside.

Stian and I carried on a whispering conversation as were prairie-dogging and twisting in our chairs to look out the various windows while still sitting in our chairs. I asked about Cape buffalo and the process of converting from cattle to buffalo on the bulk of the ranch’s footprint.

The first Cape buffalo were brought in by transport truck around 1987 and placed into pens for a couple of years then they began to release animals onto the property. The population soon was self-sustaining just as was the case with all the standard species. The color-variation species can be a bit trickier to manage. Dozens of buffalo are harvested on the ranch each year including some cows to keep the population in line with goals.

9:30am One impala ram is at the salt block. Like magic. Calmly gazing around during the rut. Alone. With two of us scanning the side windows every few minutes the ram approached unseen. 12 yards. 5 mph breeze now. The horns are majestic.

No idea if is a cull or a “book” animal. Is definitely mature. I have never submitted an animal for a book entry though could and never will. I have no interest. I know what I like. I am measuring myself against how I perform. The tape measure that matters to me is would my mentors and family be proud of how I conducted myself on the adventure.

We opened both hinged windows as if were defusing a bomb. Twist the latch, steady pull window open and back towards the wall. Moved the crossbow into position with the same care so am lined up with the slot opening. If I followed my whitetail experience and sunk the bolt in the crease behind the front leg then I would have a gut-shot impala.

Is easy for North American big game hunters to shoot too far back on African big game. When viewing the impala broadside, there is a point where the darker hue on the front shoulder has a notch of tan color which spans over the rib cage. I followed the front leg up to that notch. May get heart but will almost certainly be a lethal shot through both lungs if my hand is steady and the bolt flies true. Please fly true. No skidding along the dirt.

Safety off. Steady squeeze. Wait for the surprise of the trigger break. Mechanical “thwonk” sound as the bolt propels down the rail though I see nothing of the bolt once is slicing though the air. Birds at the waterhole scatter as if police rolled up on a dice game in the alley. The impala does a 180 spin move then races out of view to my left leaving a few puffs of dust hanging in the air which are slowly drifting to my right. Very quiet.


If I was shooting a rifle then would have racked the next cartridge as the animal began to run. The crossbow is a one and done set-up, though. I am inside the blind and no longer have eyes on the ram.

Stian asks how I feel about the shot placement. I never saw the bolt. Did not see the hide of the impala depress from the mechanical blade impact. Did not see blood on the ram as bolted. Stain also did not see an impact nor blood on the ram. Oh no. And, we wait.

Twenty minutes have passed when Phillip arrives with Charlie. Not sure if this is normal or a rodeo is about to start due to my shot placement. I felt good about the shot but sending two bolts into the dirt have me presuming very little at the moment.

We first look at where the ram was standing as I shot. No blood though along the trajectory 70 yards beyond where the ram stood Phillip calls out that he located the bolt. Blood. Likely from the lung as frothy. Obviously had to have been a pass-through.

We walk back to where the ram stood and Phillip and Charlie do their thing. Charlie soon outpaces us beyond where the bushveld begins to thicken. We reach a point 60 yards from where the ram had stood and I have my first African animal. I feel confident with the crossbow now. I fully trust it and me. And now, the impala is headed for the salt. This is one of my top three targets along with kudu and Cape buffalo.


The horns are amazing to see up close. So much character. A bit of blood on the nose so likely double-lunged but perhaps nicked the heart. the skinners can tell me later if I remember to ask.

The ram has a recently damaged eye from fighting during the on-going rut but otherwise looks in perfect condition. Take a few pictures and a quick video recap then carry the ram to the truck. We load our gear and head to the second blind of yesterday.

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10:55am Are now set up in the blind waiting.

11:50am Unwelcome guest has arrived. Is curled against the glass of one of the windows. And then gone. Now at another window. Then another. The 30” slender black mamba is not the snake of my nightmares that can reach 14 feet. Is also not particularly black though the name is for the color inside the open mouth much like the “cottonmouth” water moccasin snakes of my youth in the Midwest.

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Picture above is not the Black mamba which visited outside the blind. I was too mesmerized to take a picture or shoot video and then was gone.

The black mamba is the fastest snake in the African animal kingdom and is the second-longest venomous snake in the animal kingdom only trailing the king cobra.

The mamba’s bite is just as lethal whether the snake is 30” or 14 feet. Likely this mamba now playing hide and seek with us has 30 drops of venom. Merely two drops can be lethal for a slightly overweight adult male on his adventure of a lifetime. Nasty stuff. Has neurotoxins (which affects nerve tissue) and cardiotoxins (which affects the heart).

Takes 10 to 20 minutes for the venom to circulate through your body unless you are unlucky with the bite having hit a vein which is the express route to your heart. There are serums to slow and counter the damage though these have a short shelf life so need to get to a hospital. No one carries this around in the truck’s first aid kit.

We are over an hour from the nearest clinic which might have the serum. I have evacuation insurance though good luck getting a chopper here in under the time takes to drive to the clinic. Once bitten, if untreated, three to 16 hours is when you will likely die but maybe was a dry bite or the mamba only had a partial drop left. I prefer not to find out.

12:14pm The mamba slithers away from the original window where had made an appearance and is not seen again by us today though mambas like being in trees and one tree overhangs this blind including above the exit door. I stop drinking water since for some reason I no longer feel the need for a pee break this afternoon.

1:00pm Warthogs.

2:20pm Solo gemsbok bull but stalls before is in range and after several minutes does a u-turn and is into the bushveld.

2:30pm Impala herd which is very thirsty. The rut action has three rams chasing each other as the ewes continue to drink.

2:40pm Phillip arrives. Does a perimeter snake check and we load the gear from the blind and I find a nice area devoid of vegetation far from overhanging branches to pee. Drink half of my water bottle’s contents. We drive over the same roads where had drug the tree this morning, Not one mature Cape buffalo track.

Drove on roads we had not been on yet today and spotted a solo mature bull, then four immature bulls then two mature bulls. We stopped at the mature bulls and made stalks but the brush was thick and shot opportunities were seemingly a fraction of a second. Getting the sticks set, the gun placed, and settling into the scope was taking too long. I could have shot without the sticks at one of the mature bulls though I was wanting to use a steady platform unless a bull was charging and these bulls were not so no shots taken.

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Picture above: Phillip surfing the front bumper looking for tracks

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Picture above: Bird nests made from thorn bush limbs.


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Picture above: Termite hill

The drive was not fruitful though so much for me to see even if there are no fish in a barrel along every turn in the road.

We return to the ranch at sunset. Great dinner. While sitting at the fire pit we can hear jackals howling very close. Charlie the tracking dog and a sibling and his father are curled up by the fire and do not seem to care.

Breakfast tomorrow at 6am then we will start the day sitting in a blind.
 
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April 29: 5am alarm – Woke with the alarm. Feel rested. No mosquito. No weird dreams of snakes or whatever. Showered since the slump is busted. Another fine breakfast.

Truck screen shows 10C. Let’s see, 50F. Brrrr. I get in the passenger seat. Drive to the blind and the game camera has nothing of interest though had hoped for nyala. Drive to a new blind.

The moon is ebbing from full which may help increase daylight movement of the animals plus Ryno has begun placing supplemental feed in the road buckets and at the blinds.

6:55am Are situated inside the blind named Hardekool.

8:30am Black-backed jackal came to water. We watched him emerge at the edge of the bushveld then circled around the blind into the bushveld behind us to try and catch scent then finally drank. Not of interest to me to shoot though reminded me of gray foxes which we would catch in leg-hold traps when I was a kid.

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A fox pelt from winter would buy several cases of beer and there were two fur buyers who traveled a circuit of small towns who would roll into town to park at the Farmland Co-Op service station to buy pelts, deer hides and cattle hides for cash.

Muskrats were the easy money as farmers wanted them caught to prevent earthen dams failing which were built across creeks using a spillway to create livestock ponds that could hold water all summer. A Conibear #110 placed using a stick pushed into the mud after chopping through the pond ice at the mouth of the den which is revealed by the bubble trail under the ice. I could skin a muskrat, flesh if needed and shimmy onto a wire frame in under 5 minutes.

Raccoons were the next biggest part of the trapping cash on sets where would kick my foot into the bank of a creek making a cave about 10” deep then place a piece of fish pinned by a branched stick at the back of the cave then a leghold trap just out from the cave’s opening. Would catch opossum and the occasional mink in raccoon sets. Caught a skunk once.

I could sell every raccoon carcass to locals for $10 each. We tried one each of the raccoon, muskrat and beaver since we frequently ate squirrel, rabbit, game birds and deer we harvested as well as fish we caught from ponds. The juice was definitely not worth the squeeze on the trapped entrees though beaver was my favorite then raccoon followed by muskrat.

Some years would go through the extra work to trap for red fox, gray fox, and beaver but for those sets the squeeze was not really worth the juice though in late season when the muskrat are mostly trapped out and raccoons have been thinned by trapping and hounds treeing them then would sift dirt and use scent to create coyote and fox sets.

Beaver were a lot of effort. You needed a Conibear #440 which was dangerous since could not set while wading around the beaver den. Needed to compress the two springs while still on the bank while kneeling to get leverage. There is a tool so can lock one spring as compress the other and both need compressed in order to set the trap which is when the springs are locked during the process.

So, now you are holding an active trap while wearing chest waders as head from the bank towards the beaver den. If the trap triggers, perhaps catching your hand or arm to break bones, then would be the Dickens to open.

Beavers were a hassle to skin taking two of us an hour or more. Then, you needed to flesh off fat for a half hour along with thin meat strands then use a custom hoop frame to stretch the hide. After all that then you got the equivalent cash of three muskrat pelts for 15 times the effort plus the risk would snap an arm while standing in cest-deep in very cold winter water.

8:40am Impala come to water followed soon by 30 Guinea fowl. They remind me of a flock of turkeys by the cacophony of soft clucks and wing flaps. Then, two cow gemsbok come to water. An impala ram. Five more rams. Another gemsbok cow and soon the three were bedded then would from time to time stand and slightly reposition.

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9:30am Only the gemsbok cows remain as a lone warthog arrives to water.

10am Change blinds as the breeze is expected to change directions.

10:30am Are at the lucky slump-busting blind from yesterday, Citadel.

10:35am Three zebra come to water. That was quick as Phillip and Charlie have barely left.

11:10am Kudu bull appears at the edge of the bushveld at about 60 yards and is feeding on vegetation. Soon, walks back into the bushveld.

11:30am Warthog. Young sable bull with its reddish hide shimmering in the sunlight arrived along the side of the blind then circled to approach the water.

12:15pm Two gemsbok cows come to water. Then, three more. A gemsbok bull joins them though is not very tall nor with much mass. The kudu bull appears again but walks by out of range of the crossbow. Warthogs.

12:35pm Another gemsbuck cow and bull approach. This bull is more impressive but younger and the first bull gives chase into the bushveld before returning to water some more. Stian asks if I want to shoot the mature Gemsbok bull but I pass for now as are now seeing gemsbok every day and the water hole is proving to be popular today.

1:05pm Cape buffalo bull approaches solo. Nice drops on the horns to the ear holes. Wow. A big critter though I am in a concrete blind with a steel door and small windows. No animals remain at the water as the bull approaches. He is Bad Bad Leroy Brown in this neighborhood.

The bull first pauses to eat some of the supplemental feed. Watered. Perhaps caught our scent as spun and trotted 30 feet away then spun again to face us. Turned broadside. Sniffing the air. Stian had swapped out the expandable head to insert a heavier 200 grain single-bevel Maasai Grizzly Stik. I was a bit conflicted because my dream involved a rifle stalking through the bushveld though the rifle stalks this week were outwitting my relatively slow reflexes to get on the sticks, settle in the scope on the correct bull, etc.

Stian asks if want to shoot. At my affirmation, he slooooowly swings the hinged window open an inch at a time then I do the same with the slot window while holding my breath. Stian positions the tripod holding the crossbow. We both check visually double-check the bolt’s notch. The broadhead looks like can pierce the overlapping heavy ribs of the bull. Hope to find out soon.
 
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1:10pm I settle behind the scope. 15 yards though angled far to the right of the window opening. I shift the tripod to the left. Safety off. Finger moves inside the trigger guard. Slow squeeze. Thwunk then whack.


Bull ran 60 yards and was just at the bushveld’s edge in view of a side window. Almost certainly a heart shot. A bellow growls from deep inside the bull which then rolls to the ground under a tree. More bellows. Stops lifting head. Then, one long bellow and silence.


Only 10 minutes have passed since the bull appeared at the feed.

No long tracking job through bushveld where snakes and ticks and thorns, etc, await. And, no an angry bull charging through the brush.

We walk over to the bull at 1:25pm.

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1:30pm Phillip arrives with Charlie. Flat-bed 12’-long trailer is hitched to the truck. Phillip smiles. I think this is his preferred style for Cape buffalo retrieval. No need to track. No need to deal with a charge. No need to cut a path to get to the bull. I think Charlie was up for a bit more challenge. In a few days, Charlie and Phillip would get that challenge.

Phillip backs the trailer to the bull and uses a cable winch to roll the bull onto the trailer. We drove 700 yards to a large opening in the bushveld and then unload the bull. Takes all three of us to position the bull. Hero poses are taken. I can’t help but smile over-sized like Hemingway. My dream is unfolding and is better than imagined. The sounds. The sights. The smells. If only there was a way to bottle all of this moment to later open a decade in the future. Sure, I was never in danger and this was not open range so is a genteel version of a “real” hunt. As Tommy Lee Jones replies in the Fugitive while inside the storm drain at the dam, “I don’t care.” This is my moment. Bucket List is one item shorter now.

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2:45pm Back in Citadel. Not ideal to sit here as usually let a blind rest no less than the remainder of the day but the wind has not changed and only a few blinds work with this unusual direction of wind.

4:10pm Warthogs. Kudu cow and calf.

4:20pm Impala buck ran to water. The rut is hot.

4:35pm Young kudu bull came into view then circled behind the blind.

4:45pm Warthog.

4:50pm Golden Gemsbok cow cruised along side the blind then paused never going to water. Kudu bull from earlier appears to other side of the blind.

5:10pm Young gemsbok cow at side of blind and never goes to water. The inside of the blind is now warmer than have experienced this adventure.

5:30pm Phillip and Charlie arrive. Load up our gear. Head to ranch. Saw several bulls on the drive and went through the accompanying swarms of small flies that follow the herds of buffalo.

Dinner was fantastic. Everyone wants to hear about the bull. New hunters are arriving each day. An offer is made for a discounted Cape buffalo cow hunt. Very reasonable and cows have headgear but not on my bucket list. Some of the other hunters jump at the opportunity and one of the cows which is later shot goes rodeo deep into the bushveld requiring a stalk in the dark. A wounded cow might be more dangerous than a wounded bull. After the cow was dispatched, there was an hour of chainsaw action clearing a path in the thorn bush and trees to back a narrow tractor up to the animal. Those guys returned to camp hours after dinner ended and looked like had wrestled a bobcat with all the scratches from thorns.

Will meet for breakfast at 6am. I went inside the lodge to use WiFi to check email and upload pictures from my camera. Has been a very good day.
 
April 30: 5am alarm – Woke again with the alarm. I am fully in the rhythm of Africa now. Kudu is the only animal left on my “must have” list.

6am We meet for breakfast.

6:45am 8C so 56F. Are at a new blind, Sable, though is actually one of the oldest on the ranch and has fewer windows. Faces NE and is on an actual water hole. A window hinge had recently failed which left an opening for geckos to enter into the blind. They fed on insects that were entering through the window. About 20 geckos up to 8” long were in the upper corners of the walls just chilling. A mongoose had fed on the geckos recently and crapped inside the blind because mongoose are gonna mongoose. The new window is on order.

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8:30am Wind changes direction so we head to a new blind, Sable. Goodbye to the geckos!

9:15am Blue skies. The morning chill is fading. Four gemsbok bulls approach the water. I ease off the trigger and send a bolt at the largest bull. 29 yards. Ran out of sight but saw blood on side of the animal. Full pass-through as were all the crossbow shots except the Cape buffalo. Heard a crash. Tracked the bull for 95 yards. Had lodged in the crotch of a tree as expired.


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10:30am At a new blind named Kudu. This blind also has a pond. Wind is shifting and swirling. Two giraffe are in the distance eating leaves off tall trees. I requested half a peanut butter sandwich be added to my lunch as my stomach starts growling about now the last couple of days. I am eating big breakfasts so not sure why hitting a wall mid-morning. I eat the sandwich.

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11:20am Five immature sable bulls appear with their red-hued flanks.

11:30am Two zebra start to approach then circle.

11:50am A mature Cape buffalo bull comes to the salt.

12:15pm Five immature impala rams come to the salt.

12:20pm Waterbuck doe comes to water.

12:30pm A young sable bull appears then warthogs and two mongeese.

12:45pm Eland cow arrives.

12:55pm Gemsbok bull arrives.

1pm Two zebra that circled not come to water. Eland cows and calves appear.

1:05pm Two waterbuck bucks appear.

1:20pm Three kudu bulls are headed to water. They join seven other big game species in front of the blind. I line up on the biggest kudu bull. 25 yards. Another pass-through. Piles up just out of view at 45 yards behind a row of small bushes. Heart shot. This is the last of my “must-haves” so I shift into seeing what shows up the next few days.


2:35pm We are in a new blind. The fourth blind today.

310pm Warthogs. An ostrich feather is hung up on a bit of vegetation and is rocking in the wind so resembles a giant dandelion cluster.

3:45pm Golden gemsbok and sable bull come to water. The Sable bull has just a hint of red left on his flanks.

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4pm Warthogs.

4:35pm Two golden wildebeest come to water.

5:20pm Phillip and Charlie arrive. Load up gear. Check game cameras at three blinds on the way to the lodge.

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Dinner is excellent. More hunters have arrived though one is ill with something and was hunting with a different lodge earlier in the week before calling DVS. Drama in an otherwise chill lodge. He is very serious and not blending in around the firepit. I go into the lodge to transfer pictures from my Canon camera. Check social media. Check sports and news.

Will meet at 6am tomorrow. Today was my first multiple harvest day, gemsbok then kudu. Have harvested each of the last three days. Slump and the nock issue are all but forgotten.
 
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