For your viewing and reading pleasure, my Dad's South African safari adventure in his own words
Image intensive...and if you're not a hunting fan you might want to pass this by, as there are pictures of his trophies.
We awoke the first morning of our African safari to find the temperature had plunged to the freezing level. As we loaded our gear in the truck, we were full of anticipation of the events we would see this day.
We spend the entire morning glassing and looking over a great expanse of the heavy bush country that makes up Limpopo Province. Our professional hunter, Willem Venter, tried to quell our anxieties by telling us the animals we wanted so much to see and hunt were hanging in the heavy brush, bedded down because of the cold snap.
After a lunch of Gemsbok filet (Oryx), we returned to the bush in search of the animals that had been so elusive that morning. We had not traveled far when we encountered a herd of Impala. The animals were grazing and traveling slowly to the southeast, and with the wind in our favor, we started off to intercept them. After several minutes of walking, we stopped and glassed the herd, seeing that we had cut the distance in half.
Now came the trickier part. We dropped to our knees and began to crawl. After 50 yards or so of crawling, we slowly rose and began to glass the herd again. In the middle of the herd was the largest male (ram) with horns that were wide and long. How beautiful he was as the sun shone off of his black, shiny horns.
With a quick check of the wind, we again began our careful stalk, crawling on a few feet and stopping and glassing as we moved closer. We finally came to a place where we could see the Impala moving through a clearing.
Through the heavy brush and knee-deep grass, I watched as my trophy stood broadside at a distance of no more than 80 yards. I slowly raised the Remington, the crosshairs found their target. With a slow squeeze of the trigger, I collected my first African antelope. The Impala was even more beautiful up close than he had been at a distance and I was humbled and honored at my opportunity of taking such a wonderful trophy.
As the afternoon of the first day wore on, and the bright sunshine brought the temperature to a more comfortable level, we began encountering more and a wider variety of antelope. Steenbuck, Duiker, small Kudu bulls, and numerous Warthogs had filled our afternoon and kept us busy searching the bush.
Limpopo, Province, in South Africa is a land of gentle elevation changes. It is covered with think, heavy brush with brush-bearing thorns of up to two inches in length. The grass that feeds the antelope, starts at knee-deep and goes to waist deep. Visibility in most places if only 50 to 60 yards.
As we moved along in the truck, we cut the tracks of a herd of Gemsbuck. They were feeding and traveling in a northwesterly direction and with the wind in our face, my PH, Willem, and I headed off on a parallel course looking for the opportunity to close the distance and get a shot at the herd bull.
After what seemed like hours of crawling from one thorn bush to the next, our window of opportunity presented itself. We had caught up to the herd and had an opening of 70 yards to watch the parade of Gemsbuck pass through.
Cows and juveniles were the first to cross through the clearing. My heart was racing as I waited for the magnificent bull to make his appearance in the clearing. After what seemed like an eternity, the bull stepped into the opening.
I was awestruck by his sheer size and the contrast of colors. From the black and white markings on his face, to the gray and tan markings. Willem spoke softly, “Take him!” The .338 came up swiftly, the crosshairs found the shoulder, and with a careful squeeze of the trigger, the 225 grain Barnes bullet was on its way. Etched in my mind forever is the sight of the big bull leaping through brush that a rabbit would find impossible to go through and then all is still. My quest for a Gemsbuck was over.
Part II to follow...
We awoke the first morning of our African safari to find the temperature had plunged to the freezing level. As we loaded our gear in the truck, we were full of anticipation of the events we would see this day.
We spend the entire morning glassing and looking over a great expanse of the heavy bush country that makes up Limpopo Province. Our professional hunter, Willem Venter, tried to quell our anxieties by telling us the animals we wanted so much to see and hunt were hanging in the heavy brush, bedded down because of the cold snap.
After a lunch of Gemsbok filet (Oryx), we returned to the bush in search of the animals that had been so elusive that morning. We had not traveled far when we encountered a herd of Impala. The animals were grazing and traveling slowly to the southeast, and with the wind in our favor, we started off to intercept them. After several minutes of walking, we stopped and glassed the herd, seeing that we had cut the distance in half.
Now came the trickier part. We dropped to our knees and began to crawl. After 50 yards or so of crawling, we slowly rose and began to glass the herd again. In the middle of the herd was the largest male (ram) with horns that were wide and long. How beautiful he was as the sun shone off of his black, shiny horns.
With a quick check of the wind, we again began our careful stalk, crawling on a few feet and stopping and glassing as we moved closer. We finally came to a place where we could see the Impala moving through a clearing.
Through the heavy brush and knee-deep grass, I watched as my trophy stood broadside at a distance of no more than 80 yards. I slowly raised the Remington, the crosshairs found their target. With a slow squeeze of the trigger, I collected my first African antelope. The Impala was even more beautiful up close than he had been at a distance and I was humbled and honored at my opportunity of taking such a wonderful trophy.
As the afternoon of the first day wore on, and the bright sunshine brought the temperature to a more comfortable level, we began encountering more and a wider variety of antelope. Steenbuck, Duiker, small Kudu bulls, and numerous Warthogs had filled our afternoon and kept us busy searching the bush.
Limpopo, Province, in South Africa is a land of gentle elevation changes. It is covered with think, heavy brush with brush-bearing thorns of up to two inches in length. The grass that feeds the antelope, starts at knee-deep and goes to waist deep. Visibility in most places if only 50 to 60 yards.
As we moved along in the truck, we cut the tracks of a herd of Gemsbuck. They were feeding and traveling in a northwesterly direction and with the wind in our face, my PH, Willem, and I headed off on a parallel course looking for the opportunity to close the distance and get a shot at the herd bull.
After what seemed like hours of crawling from one thorn bush to the next, our window of opportunity presented itself. We had caught up to the herd and had an opening of 70 yards to watch the parade of Gemsbuck pass through.
Cows and juveniles were the first to cross through the clearing. My heart was racing as I waited for the magnificent bull to make his appearance in the clearing. After what seemed like an eternity, the bull stepped into the opening.
I was awestruck by his sheer size and the contrast of colors. From the black and white markings on his face, to the gray and tan markings. Willem spoke softly, “Take him!” The .338 came up swiftly, the crosshairs found the shoulder, and with a careful squeeze of the trigger, the 225 grain Barnes bullet was on its way. Etched in my mind forever is the sight of the big bull leaping through brush that a rabbit would find impossible to go through and then all is still. My quest for a Gemsbuck was over.
Part II to follow...