SOUTH AFRICA: A Couple Canucks Hunting Buffalo With DAVE FREEBURN SAFARIS Aug 22-29, 2024

[BC Tal]

@Just a dude in BC (Matt) and I had been talking about doing a hunt in Africa for a couple years now. He has family in South Africa and Zambia so that helped shaped the choices. We did some research online, but after a recommendation from one of Matt's uncles and a chat with Dave, we felt really good hunting with @DAVE FREEBURN SAFARIS in Limpopo. Papers were signed and we were booked for an 8 day buffalo hunt from Aug 22-30 with plains game add-ons.

From the beginning we knew we wanted to take our own rifles. We talked endlessly about what rifles and calibers. We both wanted classic calibers and unique / classic rifles that would be at home in Africa. Matt naturally went with a custom Ruger No 1 in 500 NE and a custom Krieghoff Optima in double 9.3x74R with a 20 GA tube strapped to the bottom. I, being a lefty had a little more interesting time finding what I wanted, but landed on a Ruger No 1 in 416 Rigby and a left hand Winchester Model 70 Safari Express that I had re-barreled to 300 H&H. We worked up our reloads and hit the range. The 500 NE and 416 Rigby were both ok off the sticks, but doing any shooting off the bench we quickly learned to add a small sandbag behind the recoil pad when shooting multiple rounds... ugh. Most of the range visits ended with a trip to the pub to review the day's shooting and discuss the upcoming hunt. Looking back, it was a great time, full of optimism and dreams of Africa.

We booked our flights with Jenn and Darren at @TRAVEL EXPRESS, can't say enough good things about our experience, top notch comms all the way. WestJet from Victoria to Vancouver to Atlanta and Delta to Joburg. Our guns were booked all the way through and we never saw them again until Joburg. Interesting note, we declared our rifles at the airport in Victoria, did up the paperwork and then over to the oversized luggage area. The security folks had a table and then did a cool thing by pulling a screen on wheels over to shield us from nosy travelers, nice! Surprisingly rather pleasant exchanges and off we went. Flights were on time and non-eventful, but that Atlanta to Joburg leg was a killer at 15.5 hrs! There were a number of obvious hunters on the Joburg flight - middle aged men wearing their khakis and tans, so naturally we talked to them. Once we landed we grabbed our luggage off the carousel and then to our surprise the rifles cases came down them too! Ok, off to meet our point of contact from Afton who asked, "why do you have your rifles already?" We shrugged and headed over to the police station. They didn't seem to phased when we rolled up to their office with our rifles. Opened the cases, confirmed the serial numbers matched the paperwork and we were off to Afton Lodge to store our rifles while we visited Joburg and Zambia for a week.

So glad we flew in a week early: we got a chance to visit Matt's family, see the country and perhaps most importantly get over the jetlag in order to be fresh for the hunt. Among the highlights was a trip to the courts to watch a dog beater get sentenced with a fine and jail time (Matt's cousin works with the SPCA), eat African street food of beef rashers and pap - and survive, visit with some Canadian troops from the Boer War buried in Pretoria, watch South Africa play Australia in a rugby match at a pub and had a number of braai. We did a quick couple of days to visit more family that farm in Zambia. I can now say I've had my clothes coal iron pressed. Amazing experiences seeing the country, the people, the food.

Day 1

The morning of Aug 22, we returned to Afton Lodge where we were met by Dave's apprentice PH, Keenan. Grabbed our rifles, loaded up the Land Cruiser and off to Dave's farm on the border with Botswana in Limpopo. We met with Dave and his family and had lunch - the first of many wonderful meals, got our gear stowed away in our rooms, signed some paperwork and off to the range to confirm zero on the rifles. My No 1 was good and the Winchester only required two clicks right. Of course the show only started when Matt pulled out his rifles with their magnificent stocks.

Once the rifles were good to go it was immediately off for the afternoon hunt. Matt and I took up our positions in the back of the Land Cruiser with Keenan, Damian (Dave's son) and Tracker John. This would become the crew for the rest of the hunt and a good crew it was. Apparently, Matt went behind my back and contacted Dave before we left Canada with instructions that I would be first in the breech for a buff. That first afternoon we saw Guinea fowl galore, impala and warthogs. Getting close to the end of the day we glassed wildebeest and buff at a waterhole. Dave, myself and Damian stalked through the thorn bushes to get closer. My heart was pounding furiously. Slowly we got into position behind some trees and brush and Dave set up the sticks. Instructions were whispered and up I go on the sticks with the Ruger. A tree was in the way. Then it happened... I went to point to the buff I couldn't see and through gritted teeth Dave instructed me to get my white ass Canadian arm down and moved the sticks to the right. Unfortunately, bush was now obscuring the buff and I was too slow to communicate this to Dave... the buff moved on. Hard lessons for me how to be behind the sticks and that I needed to communicate better with Dave. Last light came quickly once the sun was down and that was the end of day 1. The pre-dinner drinks around the fire and the dinner were great, but in my heart I was reflecting that I needed to tighten it down quickly.

 

[IdahoMo]

Alright! I'm looking forward to this report!

 

[V.Veritas]

Keep it coming....

 

[Datchew]

Love the pithy hat pictures. Looks like fun!

 

[Papa72]

I just gotta get me one a them piths!

 

[Just a dude in BC]

Good day Gent’s,

Post #2

Firstly, the pith hats were bought from Robertas hats in Victoria BC, if any Canadian AHF people are looking to pick one up.

Day two:

Each day hunting started with breakfast at 6:00am, chased with a cup or two of coffee. Dave has a great chef, and meals were always well presented. The first morning we sorted out the back of the land cruiser and started heading out for the hunt.

Obviously the first order of the day was to poke a bit of lighthearted fun at the South Africans, who had bundled themselves up for the cool morning. As we were representing Canada, we did not wear jackets due to the presence of antifreeze in our blood… But perhaps that was leftover alcohol in our system from the night before?

The morning was spent checking cameras and looking for buff track crossing the road. Though we each had our list of desired species, obviously buff was the focus, with the plan to take other species al la cart once the buff had been taken. Both Tal and I had our original lists of what we wanted to take in an ideal scenario.
Tal:

• Buff
• Gems
• Zebra
• Impala

Matt:

• Buff
• Kudu
• Gems
• Zebra
• Springbok

Let’s so how close we get to our list! Full of optimism we had a great time that first morning getting a feel for the size and layout of the farm, with the odd pause to get out and look at spoor.

It was just one of these stops, while we were looking at track, when ahead we spotted a small group of sable off to the right in a clearing. Three to four cows and a nice bull. Now, I must admit that I did not really want to take a sable. Or more accurately, that I wanted to take a sable very badly, but was thinking along the lines of: “If I have a great time here on this buff hunt, then I can come back for one of Dave’s Sable packages”… So, what to do? While I was pondering this, Dave was on his glasses scoping out the bull.
Dave “he is a good sized bull, but one his horn tips is cracked off, so his horns are not perfectly symmetrical”
Matt: *internally wanting to shoot the sable but also preserve a future trip, mulling over the possibilities*
Dave: “he is probably around 40ish, maybe 41”
Matt: *trying to remember if that is good or bad*
Dave: “Since he is not symmetrical, I can give you a bit of a deal”
Matt: *pulled out of existential crisis* “Oh? How much”
Dave: -= this sentence has been redacted due to PH client privilege=-
Dave: “Do you want to take him”?

Well, my decision was made up then, that I could always come back and hunting something other than sable, so we started moving up the left-hand side of the road, to get a better angle on him. At present he was ass on to us and had only been looking over his shoulder intermittently, to keep an eye on what we were doing. We closed to around 100 meters (103 by Dave's range finder), and I put my gun on the sticks. This also caused me a bit of consternation, as I did not have my plains game rifle with me, we had after all been looking for buff. So here I was with my 500 NE pointed at this poor doomed sable, waiting for him to give me a better angle. All the while lamenting that my custom Krieghoff was back in the truck. The 10-20 seconds it took for him to notice something was up and turn to get a slightly better look at us, seemed to stretch for epochs. But eventually he turned into a steep quartering away position. Enough that I figured a shot to break the far shoulder would end up hitting both the near and far lung. “Take him when you are ready” said Dave, and the 500 NE took its first shot at live game.

Coincidentally, for this trip I had opted to shoot 600gr North Fork cup point solids. And in the Ruger no.1 spits these out at 2160 fps for a little over 6100ft/lbs. Remember kids, there is no such thing as over kill, because being dead is digital, you are or you aren’t.

As intended the bullet went through both lungs and broke the offside shoulder. Then skipped off into bushveld to live out its days as its sees fit, for all I know it is currently vacationing in Venice. On being hit the Sable tipped back a bit, lifted his offside leg and started to lope away, only to collapse after about 40 yards. And with that, we had our first game! In the end the sable made SCI, and was 40.5” with an excellent look about him with that cracked off tip.

We then headed to the skinning shack to drop off the sable, grab lunch, and have a nap.

The evening was relatively uneventful, we continued to look for tracks, saw more game, and of note Tal almost had an opportunity on a Zebra. However the Zebra gave him the slip when they were still about 260 yards out.

That night we celebrated the first kill with some 1984 Chateau De Laubade Armagnac. We had brought a bottle, and decided that it would be rationed out at the end of any day in which we had success. It turned into a wonderful tradition while in camp, and I highly recommend this practice.

The Sable

Also the Sable... I like it a bit rare.

The very fine Armagnac

 

[BC Tal]

That armagnac was pretty damn good!

 

[BC Tal]

Day three:

Yesterday breakfast started with bovril on toast for good luck, but apparently not everyone had it... @DAVE FREEBURN SAFARIS (Dave). This can be the only explanation for why we didn't get a buff on day two. Anyway, no bovril on toast for day three. But energized from Matt getting that Sable on Day 2, hopes were high for todays hunt. We bombed up the Land Cruiser with gear and the crew and headed out. We checked for buff track on the road and a couple of times piled out of the Land Cruiser following tracks through the thorn bushes. Those trips through the thorn bushes following tracks was a good work out and generated what I believe was one of the few compliments from Dave on how Matt and I were able to move quietly through the bush. I'll take what I can get. Tracker John was again a tracking machine, but no luck getting in shooting range of a buff.

We were always on the look out for plains game opportunities, but again, the main effort was the buff.

An hour or so before last light, we split up with Dave, myself and Dave's son Damian walking through the bush to get close to a waterhole while Matt and Keenan went to another waterhole. Dave was on the glasses and off we went as quickly and quietly as possible through the bush. We pulled up approximately 150m from a couple of bulls and ever so slowly moved into a position 100m off. From a kneeling position, Dave slowly pushed the sticks out from behind the bush and trees into a clearing and then from almost under them bowed his head a couple of times and we all remained perfectly still when the buff looked our way. After some time Dave motioned for me to crawl directly behind him. Ever so quietly he whispered that I would move either very quickly or slowly and deliberately up to the sticks and take the bull on the left... I still hadn't seen the bulls from behind the bush and wouldn't until I was actually up on the sticks. I took a deep breath, exhaled and slowly but continuously moved out and on the sticks. I located the left bull, 101m off (Dave lazed him with his binos), standing broadside and now looking at me. I took another deep breath and pulled the trigger on the Ruger No 1. I sent the first round - a North Fork 400gr semi spitzer (bonded lead tip and remainder pure copper) slightly low and back of the shoulder. Disappointment, but no time to think about it. Reload, the remaining rounds were North Fork 400gr cup point solids. I remember Dave yelling to keep firing. For whatever reason the buff didn't try to run right away, but turned towards me, now a full frontal. I took the second shoot, seemed good and the buff appeared to shudder. Later we identified it hit the top of the heart and lungs, a killing shot, but I didn't know it at the time. The buff still stood there! Reload. At some point I moved forward off the sticks and braced the rifle against a tree. A third shot at the frontal was a raking shot high and to the shoulder. Reload. At some point I hear Dave yell there is blood on his nose and to keep firing. The buff now turns to run away and I got the fourth shot directly under his anus. Reload. He turned to the left and laid down. Dave yelled to put another one in him and so I put a fifth and final round in him. That was enough, he let out his death bellows and died. I'd like to think the second shot was the first fatal shot and if he had run then, he would have died 5 mins later and some short distance off. But he was still standing and moving so I kept putting rounds into him until he was down for good.

I approached the buff from his back and behind. He wasn't moving. A poke to the eye for confirmation. Dave shook my hand. I thanked him for putting me in a good position and for allowing me to finish the buff myself. He said he was prepared to shoot if need be. We called Keenan and Matt on the radio to bring the Land Cruiser to us. Took photos just before last light and headed back to camp to get help to load the buff in the Land Cruiser. Once loaded, we headed to the skinning shack to drop off the buff and then head to the lodge for supper. Drinks tasted pretty damn good that night and so did dinner. After dinner we celebrated the first buff kill with more of the armagnac around the fire. What an amazing feeling. What an adrenaline dump.
The buff was 40" and made SCI. I really like the bosses. He will taste good over a charcoal grill in two nights.

Tal's Buff

Dave and Tal

Loading the Buff on the Land Cruiser under the Watchful Supervision of the Dogs

At the Skinning Shack

One of the North Fork 400gr Cup Point Solids. The Cup has Mushroomed Perfectly Creating a Slightly Larger Wound Channel While being Pushed by Solid Copper.

Tasty Tal's Buff Tenderloin with Scalloped Potatoes... Yummy!

 

[Nyati]

Nice buff, congrats !

 

[Just a dude in BC]

Day 5

Firstly, sorry about the delay in posting this Gents. For some stupid reason I am still in the army reserves, and such was working all weekend.

Day 5 started a little different as we went to observe and help a little with some rhino conservation. Dave’s father-in-law owns silent valley, and up until recently they had around 30 rhinos. Unfortunately, a couple of them were poached, so they decided to get out of the rhino game. They sold the hunting rights to some, and the last dozen or so (cows and calves) they voluntarily gave to a rhino preserve. That morning was the day the vets were coming to dope the rhinos so they could be loaded into the rhino taxi and be taken away.

It was an interesting affair with the rhinos first getting darted, then examined by the vets and their ears notched for identification. Once they were ready for transportation they were given the wake-up juice, which I am going to assume was vodka and redbull. This is where we came in, even a small rhino can absolutely demolish you, so the game was to administer the drug, then while it was still coming to (basically drunk) we would blindfold it and shove it into a shipping crate that looked a lot like the dinosaur cage from Jurassic Park 1. For the poor rhino it was a little bit unenjoyable, as the best way to get him on his feet while still drunk is to cattle prod him in the mouth, te get his front legs under him. And some zaps right on the pooper for the rear legs. Once they were up, it was all hands on deck to shove them into the crate!

Matt and Tal, professional Rhino Bullying:

The white wand on the left is the cattle prod delivering copious voltage up the butt.

Once we had helped with the rhinos for a few hrs, Dave’s FIL gave us some intel of a buff that was not to far from where we were, who was chilling with some cows. With that we were off. After getting to the section of the farm where the report of the buff was from, we started looking for him. After a while we figured out where they were, which was unfortunately a little more exposed that I would have liked. There were sporadic trees with a lot of open grass in between them and with the presence of the cows around, it was difficult to both stay down wind and stay behind cover. Staying low and moving from tree to tree we eventually came to a point where we could not get and closer, with the buff 106 yards away. He was located between a few trees, in kind of a bit of a natural u shape, with him standing back in the shadows a bit. This gave a long narrow shooting window that was relatively open. He was also head on. With the range and head on, it was less than ideal, but I opted to take the shot anyways. We slowly sidestepped out from behind a tree on the sticks, Dave holding the sticks, and me with my gun already on them. Once it looked clear I told Dave, he rested the sticks down and I was all setup. Taking a few seconds to calm down I centered on the bull and let fly. Dave reported that he heard a loud smack as the bullet took him in the chest, and the bull was off. We waited the obligatory 10 mins, and went up to where the bull had been, sure enough there was blood, and the tracking began. When we did not immediately find the buff, so we turned to Dave’s son, who had videoed the first shot with his phone. That is when we noticed a problem. The bullet had struck a branch a few yards ahead of the buff before going in. How much this deflected the bullet we did not know at the time, but long story short, we were in for a bit of work.

Spoiler, the bullet did not go in quite right:

It took us a few hrs and copious tracking to figure out where he was. But eventually we found him and the cows a little over a km away in some thick stuff. Not knowing how bad he was wounded, we opted to let him sit a while before going in. Around an hr before dark we made our move and were able to get within 40-50 yards of him, sadly with the thick scrub it was not close enough to see him, and he took off before we could get a shot on him. With the sun getting low we headed back to camp, lest we follow up a wounded buff at night.

The next morning, we were back out looking for him. Again, it took a bit, but eventually we spotted the leg of a cow in a thicket. And again, before we could see anything the group took off. We gave chase in the land cruiser as we could see the way they were cutting across the farm, and eventually the cows took off with the bull staying behind. I suspect the injuries from the first shot had caught up to him at this point, and he just did not any juice left to continue. As it happened, Dave was the first guy to get a shot off at him, and anchored him in place, while I put two more into his chest to ensure he was finished. The last 10-15 mins or so of this chase was hectic to say the least!

Now that we had him on the ground, we found the cut where the first bullet went in. Which it turns out was deflected along the side of his chest, down through his guts, out the bottom of his guts, then through his rear left leg, and off into the bush. The Northfork solid did about 6 feet of penetration. Having gone through the guts, it was a fatal shot, but it was going to take days for the animal to die, so I was quite happy we caught up with him and put him down, even if I did not get to fire the anchoring shot. Once we had him back at the skinning shack, he measured in at 41.5”

 

[Just a dude in BC]

Ah crap... I posted a pic of the buff without the obligatory Pith Helmet!

Tal is up next to tell the story of the evening of the 5th.

 

[AZDAVE]

Really like the timber and stock configuration on the 500 NE #1.

 

[BC Tal]

Day 5.5

With Matt's buff in the salt and yet another good lunch down range we headed back out for the afternoon hunt looking for plains game. Now that both Matt and I have a buff each and Matt has his sable, we were both up for plains game, whoever saw the game first was good to go. We checked for tracks and and got some looks at zebra and impala, but nothing close. We had spotted a couple nice eland bulls earlier in the day and I decided that I should take what the bush gives... an eland. We devised a plan and again split up into two teams, Keenan and Matt went one way and Dave and I would try another. We headed back to the area where we had seen the eland earlier in the day and set up shop in a blind. We waited until just at last light I heard the clicking of eland hoofs coming from the left. It sounded like it was right on top of us! Being left handed, I was on the left and didn't have a view of it yet. My Winchester Model 70 in 300 H&H was always poking out the blind and now I slowly pushed the safety off. Dave again, ever so quietly, whispered it should cross in front of us from left to right and when it cleared some trees to take the shot. The light was fading and then I saw it, partially screened behind trees at 80m. I sighted on him and when he just cleared the trees pulled the trigger. The eland jumped and took off. We got down from the blind and went to the spot where he should have been shot. There was blood. Now it's getting dark quickly. We followed his track for another 50m or so and there he was, turned away from us. He looked back, now quartering away. I knelt and took a quick shot while he started off. We went to the spot where he was and there was more blood and bright pink lung blood as well. We had bumped him where he likely would have died. We went another 100m or so and found him folded. The first shot had been perfect, should and double lung. We did quick photos and called the crew in to help get the eland out of the bush and to the skinning shack. After clearing bush and maneuvering the Land Cruiser into position, we loaded the eland up by flashlights and headed home. More armagnac around the fire!
The next morning we headed over to the game cooler and found the 200gr North Fork semi spitzer perfectly peeled back and still lodged in a rib of the far side ribcage. Now with a buff and an eland in the salt, my wallet was tapped out. Time for Matt to to finish strong with the plains game.

 

[Rare Breed]

best eating game in Africa!!!

 

[BC Tal]

best eating game in Africa!!!

I agree, we had tenderloin from my eland on the last night.

 

[Just a dude in BC]

Day 6

Well… Wait… Lets backup to the Night of Day 5 and drinking by the fire after Tals Eland. While we were enjoying some of that nice Armagnac, Dave asked if there was anything else we were looking for. At this point we each had a buff, and one of the premium plains game animals from our lists. With neither of us shooting some of the more common game such as impala or zebra. Gemsbok seemed to be getting the slip from us, due to it being calving season, so I opted for what my heart has always wanted…. A kudu.

I have always been drawn to Kudu, their horns are obviously amazing, but I also love the chevron on their face, and the stripes on their hides. I just find them a very regal animal. Dave was up front that his farm was not the best place for kudu, and although we had seen several bulls, it was going to be a year or two before they had some nice shoot able bulls. However, silent valley did have some nice bulls on it, so we made plans to exercise the Father-in-law connection and head there in the morning.

As I had mentioned previously, Silent Valley is both a hunting farm and a game breeder. With the first part of the farm sectioned off for breeding of specific animals, and the back 40 is hunting ground. With the breeding pens on the east side, and the open lands on the west. One of the west most breeding pens, right before the open land, is the pen where they keep the kudu cows. As the saying goes “nobody owns the kudu bulls” our idea was to first drive through the cow pen, to confirm that there were some sexy lady kudu there (The pen was about a square km of bushland), and then start hunting the hunting area to the west of that pen, as there were often bulls hiding in that area, drawn to the ladies… Honestly it’s pretty relatable right fellas?

We stayed in the vehicle and drove the roads through the pen, and in about 15 mins found a group of the ladies, confirming that there was a reason for the bulls to be nearby. We then began driving towards the gate that led into the large hunting area when son of a gun there was a horny bastard in the pen with them!… And by horny, I do mean that as a double entendre, as he also had nice horns and was a fine specimen of a bull. We figured we would not look a gift horse in the mouth and headed down there towards him. After about 10-15 mins of hunched over walking behind low scrub we were in a position not to far from him. Unfortunately, the wind had shifted, and he could now smell us, this pushed him away towards the fence on the west edge. We were now in a good position if the bull came south along the fence line, which he did.

Now there was one shooting opportunity here, but he was behind brush so I could only see his head. Regardless, I was not feeling super good about it. I don’t mind hunting in large, fenced properties, provided that the size of the property is big enough that an animal with its senses about it can give you the slip. In this case though, the bull was running along the fence and that to me did not feel entirely -OMFG HE JUMPED OVER THE FENCE LIKE IT DID NOT EXIST- True story, this bull goes right over, turns back to look in our general direction and continues to trot away deep into the large hunting area. Leaving us stuck on the wrong side. In this case the fences were helping him and hindering us.

I’m at a loss… Was that my opportunity blown? What could I have done better? Where did my parents go wrong raising me? All these questions were going through my head, and I turned to Dave to ask: “Any chance of getting him now? Or is he gone?”…. Momentary silence, followed by a very determined Dave: “We are going to kill him”. And with that we were off, running to the fence, to use the adjacent road to travel down toward the far corner of that lot, where there was a gate. Simultaneously calling the guys to bring the truck up. After a good hustle, and 10 mins or so we were at, and through, the gate to the larger hunting area. Now at this point we figured the bull was somewhere in the first km or so from the fence, and that he might not run to far, after all, he had ladies on the brain. So, we quickly double timed it down past where we thought he would be and got out. If our suspicion was correct, he would now be between us and his girls, we would now be down wind of him, and we would also be 300-500 yards or so south of the line he was traveling on. With this we started the hunched over shuffle through the low scrub, moving in the direction we thought he was likely to be. After a while we spotted him, almost exactly on the line we had seen him run off, only this time he was backtracking to his harem. Not much of him was showing in the scrub, but we could occasionally catch a glimpse of his head or his horn tips moving. We were worried he might hop the fence again, so we radioed the land cruiser to head back up the to the gate so that they could look along the north south fence he had previously jumped. We would not now if he jumped back. With them watching to the north, us moving to the northeast, and the kudu moving to the southeast, the distances were closing. And so it continued for around 10 mins, with us hunched over and moving in 25 yard increments, stopping to put up the metaphorical periscope to see where he was, and to confirm he was still backtracking towards the cows. Finally, we were maybe 100-120 yard from the fence, just to the southwest of where we saw him head into a patch of 15-foot-tall thick brush, that was just before the road. The road was on the other side of this brush. Since we knew he was in there, I setup on the sticks. The bull was not able to smell us now, but he did want to get back to his ladies, he stepped out on the far side of the brush, and looked down the road, seeing the land cruiser parked at the end. Seeing the truck, he must have assumed he was still being hunted, and turned back into the thick brush. He came out the other side almost exactly where we hoped he might, walked about 20 yards and then turned to scan the horizon. His glance almost caused him to look directly at us. You could tell he was looking for us, or at least scanning for threats. Dave whispered for me to take him, BUT his body was obscured by a bush. But I could see his head, and a bit of his neck. He was only around 80 yards, so I figured nuts to this, and let fly aiming about 4 inches below his chin.

Instant collapse. The kind of collapse where the head tips back as it is pulled down by a slack body. The kind where you know you have smashed part of the central nervous system. After a short dash up to confirm what we knew. We now had a nice kudu, true to Daves word “We killed him”. In the end he turned out to be 52” and a straight hour of heart pumping ups and downs hunt! The bullet (250gr north fork SS @2500fps) had indeed smashed through his spine. And this was the first kill I had with the three barreled Krieghoff Optima Drilling.

Now that we had all our game, it was time to really hit the bottle, starting with the victory beer!

The glamor shot with the rifle.

 

[1dirthawker]

well done, and......great wood on those rifles!

 

[Brian]

Well done, Thanks for the report and pictures. brian

 

[BC Tal]

Day 7

With the hunting now done, we took some trophy photos.

Matt has one last post, but for me, what an incredible hunting experience and overall adventure in South Africa. Can't say enough good things about hunting with @DAVE FREEBURN SAFARIS. Glad I was able to do it with a good friend. Now we wait for the Euro mounts and flat skins!

 

[Just a dude in BC]

Good day Gents,

Again sorry for the delay, the dastardly military has been sucking up all of my free time of late.

Firstly I would like to say that I like this photo of the skulls more, I call it cheers with beers:

And I would appreciate comments to tell Tal that the beers are indeed a superior picture to the hand shake!

At this point in our story, we had all the game we wanted / our bank accounts could support, so we opted to have a relaxing last day. Dave owns property rights in a nearby area known as Atherstone Nature reserve, and it includes a nice lodge complex. So we decided for our last day that we would drive around Atherstone to see what we could see, and then have a nice brai at his lodge and to check up on the place.

Driving around Atherstone we saw some lovely giraffe, and a black rhino, as well as all the usual suspects. Including some of the gemsbok that had given us the slip while hunting... It's as if they knew they were off the list!

We found the lodge was in almost perfect shape. Except for the monkey that had drowned in the water cistern. Poor Kennan had to get up in there and fish it out, but his spirits were high.

After a few beers and some vorse we headed back to the main camp, and packed up to head home. The next morning after a final breakfast we headed out back to Joburg, where we dropped off the Kudu at my uncles house, and then made for the airport.

All in all a great trip.