tarbe
AH legend
- Joined
- Jan 26, 2014
- Messages
- 4,773
- Reaction score
- 9,079
- Location
- Romance, MO
- Media
- 121
- Articles
- 1
- Member of
- NRA Life, Handloaders Anonymous
- Hunted
- USA, South Africa, Zimbabwe
Got home from Tootabi about 5pm Houston time. Fell asleep at 6pm and woke up at 11pm. All messed up...so thought I'd at least get this ball rolling.
First a PREFACE (Long, so I will apologize in advance!)
You Are What You Eat
Each of us is a product of our environment.
Being the complex animals we are, our “being” is so much more than a collection of organic and inorganic molecules. We are also emotional, dare I say spiritual, beings as well.
So, while my body is just so many pounds of proteins, lipids (ugh), water and carbohydrates with some other nasties thrown in for good measure, what resides between my ears in the form of electrical impulses is a lot tougher to nail down.
It is this mystical stuff that makes us truly who we are…gives us our personality and uniqueness.
Where does all that stuff come from? Well, I’d argue that ultimately it all comes from God. But I’d also say that our environment and our genetics play a role in how all this God-given stuff plays out in real time.
So, let’s go back to 1963. I am 6 going on 7 and I get turned-on to Johnny Weissmuller.
Some of you know that he was an Olympic Champion swimmer, winner of five Olympic Gold Medals, and also the winner of 52 U.S. National Championships. In fact, he is reportedly undefeated in official competition during his entire competitive swimming career.
But it wasn’t his competitive swimming that garnered my attention as a young boy. It was the visual of Johnny wrestling a Crocodile and riding a rampaging Rhino that made me see him as larger than life.
Of course, Johnny didn’t do these things in real life…but to me he may as well have. When I saw Johnny portray Tarzan on my folk’s TV, doing these things and more, he became a hero of sorts to me.
Of course, the setting of all these adventures was this far away, mystical place simply know to me as Africa. Now, as we all know, Africa is a very large continent and is as diverse in terrain, vegetation and climate as can be found on earth. But to me, Africa was where Tarzan was. Where the spiders were as large as a grown man’s hand. Where all the crocodiles were 18 feet long and where danger lurked around every bush and every bend in the river, courtesy of some strange and exotic wild animal (or head-shrinking cannibal!).
It was also a place of great beauty and adventure. Untamed, unspoiled, and ready to be explored by anyone willing to subject themselves to the hazards that were simply part of the cover charge.
In the days portrayed by the Weissmuller Tarzan movies, only the wealthiest of the wealthy could afford the expense of the typical safari. One was essentially purchasing the services of an entire small company of white professionals and native porters. Not to mention, to make it all work, one had to be able to take up to several months off from their normal worldly duties. What working stiff could ever hope to do that?
These realities all taken together….the heroics of Tarzan, the danger, beauty and adventure offered by Africa herself, and the slim odds of one ever making such a trip…well, taken together they made Africa as much a pipe dream as was getting to one day marry my boyhood dream girl, Raquel Welch!
Just as I managed to forget about and grow past Raquel, I also managed to forget about ever experiencing Africa. Fortunately, God has His way of giving us what we need and desire, when we need it and often when we least expect it. I met and married a wonderful woman who is now my wife of 31 years and is the Mother of our two wonderful adult children. I have also had my share of adventures, from four years of active duty in the Marine Infantry, to numerous hunting trips in my native U.S.A.
Sometimes though, we get the sundae with the cherry on top, or the donut with the surprise yummy filling. Sometimes we are allowed to have something we had essentially forgotten we even wanted.
Which brings us to the subject of this story. A hunt that is much more than a hunt. The meeting of people who might, by some, be thought of as hired contractors, but who in fact have become family. The sharing of a place and the bounty of that place that will live on in the memory just as I recall my first deer hunt on my Uncle’s farm over 40 years ago. Memories that make us, in many ways, who we are.
Remember, you are what you eat. So eat wisely…..
Choices, Choices
Life is chock full of choices. Even when we think we don’t have choices, we have choices.
I chose to retire from the company I went to work for out of college, at the ripe old age of 54. I wasn’t really ready to quit working for good, but I felt like I needed to shift gears and the timing just seemed right.
It did not take long for my wife to let me know she expected me to find something else to do! 4 months after retiring, the company I retired from was asking me to come back. 3 months after agreeing to a “low-stress” position, they were asking me to jump back into the frying pan. I somewhat jokingly told my wife that if I was going to plunge myself fully back into the rat race, I would need to hold back some of each year’s pay to treat myself to an adventure…the kind of adventure that I had heretofore always denied myself.
When she did not quickly and loudly object to this notion, I made a note! Then I began to make a plan! Less than a week later, I was on AfricaHunting.com shopping for an Outfitter!
I soon found out that there were a bunch of well-regarded Outfitters on AH…folks who also would cater to the husband/wife combo safari that I hoped to be in the market for. It appeared that pricing was fairly consistent for similar products, from one outfitter to the next, with obvious geographical differences. Given I work for a South African company and travel there on business on occasion, it seemed only natural for me to concentrate on South Africa for what would be my first Pains Game Safari.
I wrote to 4 different Outfitters explaining what I was looking at doing, to ask for pricing and whatever else they might be able to tell me, to help me in the process.
All of them came back with similar responses and similar pricing…with one notable exception. One fellow spoke to me in a bold, personal and refreshing way…honestly, in a way that might actually turn off some potential clients…but not me. And such boldness from a young fellow who is just getting started!
I instantly liked this fellow, and knew I shared something in common with him that would allow us to make a plan and make it work to our mutual benefit. So without a whole lot else to go on, I found myself sending in a deposit on an adventure to Africa. Yes, it was a little unnerving doing a wire transfer of a fairly substantial amount of money to a place halfway around the world, to a fellow I had only corresponded with a couple times. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut, and my gut was telling me this guy was someone I could trust. So 16 months prior to leaving for the hunt, the deposit was sent to Loodt Buchner at Tootabi Hunting Safaris. It was official…we were going to Africa!
I’m Not in Kansas Anymore
As I did more research on all the intricacies of pulling off a hunt to the Dark Continent, I came to realize that compared to going Elk hunting in Idaho, this trip was going to be complicated. Kathy needs a passport. We need to make sure we have adequate layovers for getting through customs. We might want to hire a rifle importation service on the RSA side to help avoid any issues with SAPS. We must fill out a Customs Form 4457 and get it stamped/signed by a Customs Agent. And then there is the Mother-Of-All Bureaucratic (MOAB) Nightmares…the dreaded ITN via AES (which was temporarily “suspended” when we left, but I brought my ITN anyway!).
Nobody told me it would be like this! I bet Tarzan doesn’t have a clue what an ITN is!
Fortunately, like most bad surprises, these turned out to be no big deal. A flurry of internet study, a few hours of grinding my teeth, and everything was in place.
I still had to decide on things like what taxidermy to do, and who to have perform it (the age-old USA vs RSA dilemma). But that stuff can be decided pretty much on the fly. I did have the fortune to spend a couple days with Loodt in January 2015 while in RSA on business, and got a chance to see a couple of his mounts done by Relive. They looked great to me…so in the absence of some new revelation, that would be my primary plan. I liked the idea of using someone Loodt has a relationship with….can only help in the event there is an oops.
Final Preps
I have been handloading my own ammo since 1974. Load development has been an integral part of my hunting since then. I take great pleasure in determining which bullet, powder, case and primer combination to use on any given hunt, and this was no exception.
I decided I was going to start off from scratch and purchase the “ultimate” rifle/cartridge combo for this long-awaited hunt. After some research I came across the Boddington Series of Ruger Number 1 rifles.
Now, as a former Marine, you know I have a soft spot for General Boddington. And I purchased my first Ruger Number 1 (a 45-70) in 1975 as a 17 year old. My first elk was taken with a Number 1 in .375 H&H. I (like most) think Kudu are really cool animals. So when I learned there was a Boddington Kudu Ruger Number 1 in 300 H&H…oh my….how could I NOT get one of those???
After only a few days I was fortunate enough to find an unfired specimen for sale. I paid a bit of a premium for it, compared to a standard Number 1. But not near as much as I would have been willing to pay! I topped this rifle with one of Leupold’s VX-6 2 - 12x scopes in medium Ruger rings. The quick release rings that came with the Kudu hold a Leupold VX-3 2.5 – 8X that will serve as back-up.
One disappointment with the rifle turned out to be the short throat that it has. $60 and a week later and the throat had been lengthened by a local gunsmith and I now truly had a “Super 30”, albeit one that now needed additional load development!
I found I was able to get consistent sub-MOA groups with the 180gr Barnes TTSX and a large dose of IMR 7828 SSC. Velocities averaging 3,100 fps were reached, but in the end I cut the load back to 3,050 fps to afford a little additional leeway in case we ran into unusually warm temps on our hunt.
Then there is the issue of conditioning.
Having played sports in school, and having been a grunt in the Marines, I knew a little bit about exercise and conditioning. I had my previous backpack hunts into the Frank Church Wilderness of Idaho to remind me of the value of physical conditioning of the right type, and how that can make your hunt much more pleasurable. I have also witnessed how a lack of such preparation can make a fellow wish he had stayed home!
I had no illusion that this hunt would carry with it the same physical rigors that the backpack hunts in the Rockies did…but I agree with the oft-heard saw regarding the need to control the variables that you can! So I made sure I humped my pack on the incline enough prior to the hunt that 20 pounds of those previously mentioned lipids were melted away. Besides, I fit into an airline seat a whole lot better at 192 pounds than I do at 212!
I know this preface has been long, but I hope it conveys some of the history of how and why this hunt came to be.
Next up….Let’s go hunting!
The Boddington Kudu in its virgin state...all dressed up but never 'been hunting. That will change shortly!
First a PREFACE (Long, so I will apologize in advance!)
You Are What You Eat
Each of us is a product of our environment.
Being the complex animals we are, our “being” is so much more than a collection of organic and inorganic molecules. We are also emotional, dare I say spiritual, beings as well.
So, while my body is just so many pounds of proteins, lipids (ugh), water and carbohydrates with some other nasties thrown in for good measure, what resides between my ears in the form of electrical impulses is a lot tougher to nail down.
It is this mystical stuff that makes us truly who we are…gives us our personality and uniqueness.
Where does all that stuff come from? Well, I’d argue that ultimately it all comes from God. But I’d also say that our environment and our genetics play a role in how all this God-given stuff plays out in real time.
So, let’s go back to 1963. I am 6 going on 7 and I get turned-on to Johnny Weissmuller.
Some of you know that he was an Olympic Champion swimmer, winner of five Olympic Gold Medals, and also the winner of 52 U.S. National Championships. In fact, he is reportedly undefeated in official competition during his entire competitive swimming career.
But it wasn’t his competitive swimming that garnered my attention as a young boy. It was the visual of Johnny wrestling a Crocodile and riding a rampaging Rhino that made me see him as larger than life.
Of course, Johnny didn’t do these things in real life…but to me he may as well have. When I saw Johnny portray Tarzan on my folk’s TV, doing these things and more, he became a hero of sorts to me.
Of course, the setting of all these adventures was this far away, mystical place simply know to me as Africa. Now, as we all know, Africa is a very large continent and is as diverse in terrain, vegetation and climate as can be found on earth. But to me, Africa was where Tarzan was. Where the spiders were as large as a grown man’s hand. Where all the crocodiles were 18 feet long and where danger lurked around every bush and every bend in the river, courtesy of some strange and exotic wild animal (or head-shrinking cannibal!).
It was also a place of great beauty and adventure. Untamed, unspoiled, and ready to be explored by anyone willing to subject themselves to the hazards that were simply part of the cover charge.
In the days portrayed by the Weissmuller Tarzan movies, only the wealthiest of the wealthy could afford the expense of the typical safari. One was essentially purchasing the services of an entire small company of white professionals and native porters. Not to mention, to make it all work, one had to be able to take up to several months off from their normal worldly duties. What working stiff could ever hope to do that?
These realities all taken together….the heroics of Tarzan, the danger, beauty and adventure offered by Africa herself, and the slim odds of one ever making such a trip…well, taken together they made Africa as much a pipe dream as was getting to one day marry my boyhood dream girl, Raquel Welch!
Just as I managed to forget about and grow past Raquel, I also managed to forget about ever experiencing Africa. Fortunately, God has His way of giving us what we need and desire, when we need it and often when we least expect it. I met and married a wonderful woman who is now my wife of 31 years and is the Mother of our two wonderful adult children. I have also had my share of adventures, from four years of active duty in the Marine Infantry, to numerous hunting trips in my native U.S.A.
Sometimes though, we get the sundae with the cherry on top, or the donut with the surprise yummy filling. Sometimes we are allowed to have something we had essentially forgotten we even wanted.
Which brings us to the subject of this story. A hunt that is much more than a hunt. The meeting of people who might, by some, be thought of as hired contractors, but who in fact have become family. The sharing of a place and the bounty of that place that will live on in the memory just as I recall my first deer hunt on my Uncle’s farm over 40 years ago. Memories that make us, in many ways, who we are.
Remember, you are what you eat. So eat wisely…..
Choices, Choices
Life is chock full of choices. Even when we think we don’t have choices, we have choices.
I chose to retire from the company I went to work for out of college, at the ripe old age of 54. I wasn’t really ready to quit working for good, but I felt like I needed to shift gears and the timing just seemed right.
It did not take long for my wife to let me know she expected me to find something else to do! 4 months after retiring, the company I retired from was asking me to come back. 3 months after agreeing to a “low-stress” position, they were asking me to jump back into the frying pan. I somewhat jokingly told my wife that if I was going to plunge myself fully back into the rat race, I would need to hold back some of each year’s pay to treat myself to an adventure…the kind of adventure that I had heretofore always denied myself.
When she did not quickly and loudly object to this notion, I made a note! Then I began to make a plan! Less than a week later, I was on AfricaHunting.com shopping for an Outfitter!
I soon found out that there were a bunch of well-regarded Outfitters on AH…folks who also would cater to the husband/wife combo safari that I hoped to be in the market for. It appeared that pricing was fairly consistent for similar products, from one outfitter to the next, with obvious geographical differences. Given I work for a South African company and travel there on business on occasion, it seemed only natural for me to concentrate on South Africa for what would be my first Pains Game Safari.
I wrote to 4 different Outfitters explaining what I was looking at doing, to ask for pricing and whatever else they might be able to tell me, to help me in the process.
All of them came back with similar responses and similar pricing…with one notable exception. One fellow spoke to me in a bold, personal and refreshing way…honestly, in a way that might actually turn off some potential clients…but not me. And such boldness from a young fellow who is just getting started!
I instantly liked this fellow, and knew I shared something in common with him that would allow us to make a plan and make it work to our mutual benefit. So without a whole lot else to go on, I found myself sending in a deposit on an adventure to Africa. Yes, it was a little unnerving doing a wire transfer of a fairly substantial amount of money to a place halfway around the world, to a fellow I had only corresponded with a couple times. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut, and my gut was telling me this guy was someone I could trust. So 16 months prior to leaving for the hunt, the deposit was sent to Loodt Buchner at Tootabi Hunting Safaris. It was official…we were going to Africa!
I’m Not in Kansas Anymore
As I did more research on all the intricacies of pulling off a hunt to the Dark Continent, I came to realize that compared to going Elk hunting in Idaho, this trip was going to be complicated. Kathy needs a passport. We need to make sure we have adequate layovers for getting through customs. We might want to hire a rifle importation service on the RSA side to help avoid any issues with SAPS. We must fill out a Customs Form 4457 and get it stamped/signed by a Customs Agent. And then there is the Mother-Of-All Bureaucratic (MOAB) Nightmares…the dreaded ITN via AES (which was temporarily “suspended” when we left, but I brought my ITN anyway!).
Nobody told me it would be like this! I bet Tarzan doesn’t have a clue what an ITN is!
Fortunately, like most bad surprises, these turned out to be no big deal. A flurry of internet study, a few hours of grinding my teeth, and everything was in place.
I still had to decide on things like what taxidermy to do, and who to have perform it (the age-old USA vs RSA dilemma). But that stuff can be decided pretty much on the fly. I did have the fortune to spend a couple days with Loodt in January 2015 while in RSA on business, and got a chance to see a couple of his mounts done by Relive. They looked great to me…so in the absence of some new revelation, that would be my primary plan. I liked the idea of using someone Loodt has a relationship with….can only help in the event there is an oops.
Final Preps
I have been handloading my own ammo since 1974. Load development has been an integral part of my hunting since then. I take great pleasure in determining which bullet, powder, case and primer combination to use on any given hunt, and this was no exception.
I decided I was going to start off from scratch and purchase the “ultimate” rifle/cartridge combo for this long-awaited hunt. After some research I came across the Boddington Series of Ruger Number 1 rifles.
Now, as a former Marine, you know I have a soft spot for General Boddington. And I purchased my first Ruger Number 1 (a 45-70) in 1975 as a 17 year old. My first elk was taken with a Number 1 in .375 H&H. I (like most) think Kudu are really cool animals. So when I learned there was a Boddington Kudu Ruger Number 1 in 300 H&H…oh my….how could I NOT get one of those???
After only a few days I was fortunate enough to find an unfired specimen for sale. I paid a bit of a premium for it, compared to a standard Number 1. But not near as much as I would have been willing to pay! I topped this rifle with one of Leupold’s VX-6 2 - 12x scopes in medium Ruger rings. The quick release rings that came with the Kudu hold a Leupold VX-3 2.5 – 8X that will serve as back-up.
One disappointment with the rifle turned out to be the short throat that it has. $60 and a week later and the throat had been lengthened by a local gunsmith and I now truly had a “Super 30”, albeit one that now needed additional load development!
I found I was able to get consistent sub-MOA groups with the 180gr Barnes TTSX and a large dose of IMR 7828 SSC. Velocities averaging 3,100 fps were reached, but in the end I cut the load back to 3,050 fps to afford a little additional leeway in case we ran into unusually warm temps on our hunt.
Then there is the issue of conditioning.
Having played sports in school, and having been a grunt in the Marines, I knew a little bit about exercise and conditioning. I had my previous backpack hunts into the Frank Church Wilderness of Idaho to remind me of the value of physical conditioning of the right type, and how that can make your hunt much more pleasurable. I have also witnessed how a lack of such preparation can make a fellow wish he had stayed home!
I had no illusion that this hunt would carry with it the same physical rigors that the backpack hunts in the Rockies did…but I agree with the oft-heard saw regarding the need to control the variables that you can! So I made sure I humped my pack on the incline enough prior to the hunt that 20 pounds of those previously mentioned lipids were melted away. Besides, I fit into an airline seat a whole lot better at 192 pounds than I do at 212!
I know this preface has been long, but I hope it conveys some of the history of how and why this hunt came to be.
Next up….Let’s go hunting!
The Boddington Kudu in its virgin state...all dressed up but never 'been hunting. That will change shortly!
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