TANZANIA: Tanzania Recap

[Acopperdawg]

I am going to be posting my recap of my recent trip to Tanzania last month. First time doing this so bear with me. I had the great pleasure of taking my son Ryan (13) with me and the memories we made together are priceless to me.

 

[Acopperdawg]

• Travel Day One (Sunday July 7th)
  
  • We left the house at 7:00 to make sure we arrived with plenty of time to clear customs and check our guns. We sailed through TSA with the help of a VERY feisty TSA agent that thought Ryan was the cutest thing and threatened to take me out for dessert if I didn’t refer to her as “Honey” or “Sweetie” she was hilarious and made the experience much more lighthearted. Kelly and Ian McAngus arrived after us, and we introduced them to our newfound friend the TSA Agent and cleared customs and TSA in a snap.
  • We taxied out of Houston around 3:30 as scheduled and the flight was uneventful but very little sleep was had.
• Travel Day Two (Monday July 8th)
  
  • We arrived in Amsterdam around 7:55 AM as scheduled and met the rest of or party at our connecting gate for our Arusha flight.
  • We departed on time to Arusha and arrived at the airport in Arusha at roughly 10:30 PM. We did not deboard the plan and Ian and I spent the short layover crouched in the galley space taking advantage of the chance to stand up while also having to dance and dodge the numerous cleaning staff and attendants as they completed their cleaning and luggage checks. We departed on time and arrived in DAR right at midnight.

 

[Acopperdawg]

• Arrival Day (Tuesday July 9th )
  
  • We arrived in DAR and quickly came to learn that unless you had a local “Handler” in this case an amazing individual named Eddie. This would be a tough place to operate. I suspect Franz could have helped to navigate the process since he was fluent in Swahili, but no one else in our party could communicate with the airport, or Customs staff.
  • While we were grabbing our luggage, we learned that our guns had never made the transition with our luggage from our Houston flight to our connecting flight in Amsterdam. We later learned that KLM is notorious for making this “mistake”. Natasha, Kelly and Matts PH, informed us that she recommends to her clients that fly KLM to write very large across their gun case “ANTI-POACHING”. She almost never has a gun left behind when she uses this technique.
  • This is where the travel plans got interesting. Because our guns had not arrived and the next flight in which our firearms could make the trip was the duplicate of ours, meaning Amsterdam to Arusha and then to DAR, only flew once a day and arrived at Midnight (24 hours from our arrival) we had a choice to make. Stay in DAR and wait for our guns or drive overnight to camp and get on with our safari. The choice was made to start the trip.
  • We loaded up into 2 Toyota SUVS which miraculously transformed rally cars and we speed off at a blistering pace through what turned out to be a surprisingly busy and congested capital city. I was amazed at the number of lorries and motorcycles that were out on the road at 2-3:00 AM. The reckless abandon with which the motorcycles, often carrying 2-4 passengers (Mishikaka (BBQ?) as they called this), flung themselves between moving cars and large trucks was breath taking. This was further complicated by the snail’s pace at which the large lorries moved through the city. Often times 20-30 KPH slower than the rest of traffic which only compounded the passing movements that were needed to navigate. Additionally, the number of roadside stands there were often densely packed and crowded necessitated, I assume, the need for cars, trucks, bikes and motorcycles to park on the paved road encroaching into the travel lane and further slowing the ongoing traffic.
  • We drove for +/-2 hours (I lost track) before we left the paved road. I was already starting to feel motion sickness setting in despite the scopolamine patch I had been wearing since Houston. It was at this point that we were told that there was approximately 240 KM of dirt road left before we got to camp. At this point it was around 3:00 in the morning. I have spent my life driving back country and gravel ranch roads and let me tell you. Never in my life have I been on roads in worse condition. Our drive (I believe his name was Mohammad) did an admirable job of balancing speed and offroad driving skill, but the combination of delirium, the small cab space of our “Rally Car” and the rough roads put me over the edge. I had to request puke breaks at least 4 times before we finally arrived in camp, much to my relief.
  • We arrived at camp just in time to see the sun rising (6:30 ish) we were kindly offered breakfast which I declined for obvious reasons. Our luggage was put in our very nicely equipped tent and Ryan, and I promptly passed out for a few hours.
  • We woke up around 1:00 and enjoyed a very nice nap and then drove out to the runway that was immediately adjacent to the camp to confirm the camp guns we would be using if ours never arrived. The runway was very overgrown and in need of maintenance. Lupo, Ryan and my PH on this trip, told us that they intended on burning the vegetation and then dragging it to eliminate the hard dried tracks from elephant, buffalo and other large game animals that roamed the area during their long wet season.
  • After we confirmed guns, we went on a quick drive to see what was out. Adam road with us and we saw impala and zebra, but no stallions or mature rams. As we were driving back to camp towards dark, we came across what we later found out were government hunters out shooting game for the village. They were nearly an hour away from camp and very near our camp. They must have been very close behind us because we had driven through the open area they were in not long before them. We had seen a herd of impala and Lupo had determined the rams were all immature. As one would imagine, the government shooters did not see the distinction and had shot 2 young impala and were busy gutting them and loading them into their truck. As you can imagine, Lupo’s was not very happy. This made for an interesting moment since we had not only just met Lupo, but I didn’t know Adam either. So here I am in the middle of the East African bush watching our PH wildly gesticulate and I can only assume cuss the ever living tar out of these two guys in a language I don’t understand while trying to tell Ryan to “Mind your own business” and do not ask Lupo any questions when he gets back on the truck.
  • Lupo eventually hopped on the truck again and informed us that the hunters where not supposed to be there and instead of making a big deal out of it, he took one of the impala rams and we used it as our first leopard bait which we hung in a nearby tree. Because they shot it, it did not have to be applied to my permit, so it worked out.
  • We had a fantastic dinner with a starter of zucchini soup. We were very soon to learn that every dinner was started with a soup, all of which were delicious. It was hilarious to see them spoon out the zucchini soup to Ryan the first day. He was visibly nervous, but to his credit he tried it and I believe he really enjoyed it. This was also the first time we met both Kelly and Matts PH Natasha and Ian and Adams PH Simmon.

 

[wesheltonj]

Great Start. I met Lupo at DSC and was considering him. Looking forward to the rest of your report.

 

[Acopperdawg]

• Day One (Wednesday July 10th)
  
  • We woke up early the first day and were greeted with a fresh made breakfast to order. Although we could have changed it at any point, Ryan and I seemed to stick with our original order the entire trip which was scrambled eggs, back and a lovely little breakfast sausage for Ryan and the same order for me except for 2 over easy eggs.
  • The first day saw us driving west of camp and stalking through what I later learned was a very large flood plain of the Lungonya River that was now covered with chest high grass. This represented the western boundary of the hunting block.
  • We originally left the truck after a herd of zebra that quickly outpaced us. A large group of Nyasaland Hartebeest was spotted, and we set off in pursuit with Ryan being the first on the sticks. It was an incredible stalk. To say that I was proud of Ryan is an understatement. We ran through the chest high grass which hid the pock marked ground underneath it incredibly well. Not only was there left over flood debris such as branches and logs, but here were 12 inch deep elephant footprints and long abandoned foot paths of the large herds that fed in this floodplain as the water was receding and the grass was sprouting in the muddy ground. I was amazed throughout the trip at just how fast Lupo could walk. The man could cover more ground at a leisurely pace than my mother could, and I remember having to keep up an uncomfortable job when we were on the move as youngsters. Despite all these encumbrances and having never really played this game before, Ryan stayed stuck to Lupo like glue allowing his ankles to bend and sway with the ground, keeping his knees soft and unbuckling and simultaneously avoiding jamming the rifle barrel in Lupos back or the ground. It would seem that my lessons on gun safety sank in. As we approached the heard, Lupo slowed the pace and began to assess the approach. The floodplain appeared to be flat with minimal cover or trees to hide our approach. Lupo retreated and found a low/draw that I imagine was a remnant of the high flowing water and we followed it on hands and knees until it met back up with natural ground. At this point, Lupo and Ryan crawled ahead to a twig of a tree and stood up and got on the sticks. Lupo scanned the roughly 40-60 head of Hartebeest that were scattered 80 yards ahead of us and did not find a single bull in the herd. This would not be the first time this happened to us as this time of year the bulls are not generally in with the herds. We withdrew from the curious ladies and stalked down the floodplain and came across a group of 4 zebra with a stallion attached. Ryan got on the sticks and unfortunately pulled the shot and wound up gut shooting the stallion. Nerves and an extremely heavy trigger are my suspected culprits, but regardless, despite a long track and one fleeting chance for a follow up shot, the zebra was not recovered, and we hoped for a quick end to the pain that was inflicted.
  • We made the long sad walk back to the truck and continued on to the west and south. We came across a herd of impala and the struggles with the zebra were forgotten for the moment. Ryan was originally the shooter, but he was nervous and so I took the gun and was on the sticks for this one. After a short run after the spooked impala, I made a 100 yard shot with Lupos dad’s 80 year old .308 and we had our first animal of the trip in the salt. He was an older ram with broomed down tips and a ton of character with deep ribbing and a beautiful lyre shape to his horns.
  • We were close to camp ad it was nearly lunch, so we went back to camp to drop off the impala and grab lunch.
  • As luck would have it, Eddie had performed a miracle. He had left camp after safely delivering us the first day and was at the airport at midnight to collect our guns. The man has amazing connections and was able to take possession of our guns without us being present. Then in a truly selfless act, he once again drove through the night to deliver our weapons to us at camp. We confirmed the weapons after lunch and were back out in the field hunting.
  • I have to describe what wound up being an unsuccessful stalk on a group of impala. We had jumped off the truck after a group of impala and they had busted us as they tend to do. The group of us collectively ran into the brush to try and head them off. As we worked our way through the brush, slowly moving and looking ahead for the target group, it was Lupo in the lead followed by Aisha and then myself. We were walking through knee high grass and as we approached a heavily brushed draw, we slowed so Lupo could look ahead. As we started to walk again I noticed a very strange set of white “horns” slowly moving in the grass. It was startling to see, and before recognition could kick in, my first thought was that this was a very long set of whitetail deer horns in full velvet. However, this would have been the longest set of spike horns I had ever seen. I know it was strange to mentally try and place a whitetail in the east African bush, but that is where my mind was. Mind you we were less than 15 feet from this thing. Then the movement changed and it became clear what I was looking at. We were on a collision path with a pair of mating black mambas. I quickly stopped Lupo and tried to point out the discovery to him. It took a few seconds of pointing nearly at our feet before Lupo adjusted his gaze from up ahead towards the danger at our feet. The entire group with the exception of Aisha stood in amazement at what we were looking at. We withdrew to a safe distance and watched for a moment. All but Aisha who I believe was planning on leaving the hunting block. It was a special moment and apparently very rare to see.
  • We headed out to what turned out to be the “Plains” area of the hunting block. We spotted a large herd of impala. Lupo reversed the truck and out of site of the nervous animals and we quickly ran back down the road and away and downwind of the herd. We looped way around and walked at a blistering pace. We walked through a very brushy drainage and came into a small sun lite meadow that was not much larger than our living room. It was almost completely enclosed by leafy green vegetation with a sand bottom and was completely filled with hundreds to thousands of small white butterflies. We didn’t stop for long, but it certainly gave everyone pause to enjoy the small little moment. We quickly continued the stalk and approached a very large glade that the impala had moved into. Lupo lead us in a tight single file line up to a large tree that was used to conceal our entire group. A very old ram was slowly working its way into the open and Lupo got Ryan into a solid shooting position. The ram stopped with a clear shooting lane under a short shrub roughly 150 yards away. I recall wondering why Lupo and Ryan were talking so much. After the shot, they told me that Ryan could not see the head and had asked Lupo if it was actually a ram. Lupo checked again to confirm and Ryan made a great shot. The ram folded at the shot and then struggled and stumbled less than 20 yards before expiring. We now had our second animal and second impala in the salt. I was proud of Ryan for confirming the target, we had been informed that shooting a female of any species is prohibited in Tanzania and the second check did not cost us the animal.
  • We took Ryans impala immediately over to a beautiful leopard bait tree and our second Leopard bait was set and besides dinner, drinks and a lovely warm shower, our day was done.

 

[Acopperdawg]

Great Start. I met Lupo at DSC and was considering him. Looking forward to the rest of your report.

We had a phenomal hunt with Lupo and he was amazingly patient with my son. The camp was extremely nice but basic. The food was top notch and the wine was perfect. I think you would be very please hunting with him.

 

[Acopperdawg]

• Day Two (Thursday July 11th)
  
  • Day 2 started with a rush. Franze road with us on this day and we woke early with the intention of setting out to get bait. We left camp just as the sun was coming up and had not made it far before spotting a herd of zebra in an open area. Lupo jumped off the truck and we made a quick stalk through the tall grass to a clump of trees. The zebras were downhill from us across a large open area with tall grass. The elevation difference gave us a chance to glass them, and a stallion was selected out of the group. I got set on the sticks and was able to rest against a big tree for the shot. Range was approximately 250 yards, and the stallion was quartering hard toward me. My shot hit him perfectly in the point of the shoulder. He dropped at the shot, but then as zebras do, he was up on his feet and running before I could follow up. He ran out of sight, and we all became nervous. A very solid blood trail was found and despite a .300WM to the lungs and heart, the hearty animal still ran 100 yards before expiring. I had to laugh as I very much needed to make a morning bowel movement and told Lupo of the urgent situation. We quickly took trophy pictures and then I removed myself from the situation while they proceeded to load up the animal to deliver to the skinning shed. I walked over lion tracks on my way to a bush in what was a very nervous first experience for this south Texas rookie.
  • We continued hunting and made our way over the northern and more hilly part of the concession. We saw several duikers, and were hopeful for a sable in this area, but never happened upon them. As we drove the northern boundary road, we learned how much our trackers loved to burn the tall grass that had dried after the rainy season. They would strike matches and toss them into piles of grass along the edge of the road sometimes starting very large fires that we could see in the distance days later.
  • As we were driving, we came through a group of feeding baboons. As we were driving, Ryan mentioned to Lupo that he would like to shoot one. Lupo shrugged his shoulders and stopped the truck. He got the sticks up and Ryan made an easy 80 yard shot on a big male that was feeding and quartering away. After a rather dramatic scramble of 50 yards or so the baboon expired and was in the salt. The kid was beaming for the rest of the day.
  • We worked our way over to one of the few standing bodies of water left as things dried up. Lupo wanted to check and see if a very large, bodied bull hippo he had seen was still at the pool. As luck would have it, he was. Lupo worked hard to convince me to take the hippo right there and then, saying that they make a great deal of lion bait. Until that point, I was unsure if we were hunting lion, so I wanted to check with camp on the plan.
  • We had our first bush lunch near enough to the Hippo Pond that their vocalizations were uncomfortably loud and my nap in the hammock mostly involved visualizing how this overweight Texas guy looked like a ready to eat gringo taco all wrapped up at mouth height in the hammock.
  • I don’t specifically recall what was for dinner that night, but I was thoroughly impressed when we were served homemade ice cream for dessert.

 

[Acopperdawg]

• Day Three (Friday July 12th)
  
  • We started off very early hoping to cut a fresh Dugga boy track crossing the road. We stopped along the way to check a lion bait that had been hit at about 7:00 AM. It was the first sign of lions we had seen, and the camera showed a 4 year old cat with minimal mane that was nearly 10 foot long. The height that the thing had fed up the bait was truly incredible.
  • We cut a track of a solitary bull sometime between 8 and 8:30 and the tracking job was on. Watching Patsun and Aisha work together to track the bull through varied terrain and even through the track of another herd of buffalo that crossed his path was truly amazing. They would lose the trail and then find it; they would find an area where they would point out that he had been meandering around and feeding only to start traveling again. The entire time we were tracking, Lupo was very concerned that the bull would change direction and head off our concession and into the national park where we could not pursue him. Finally, as we once again neared the border, Lupo threw up the sticks. I got the gun up and he pointed to a large black blob that we later found out was a buffalo lying down in a thick patch of brush. I could only make the change in color from the black of a body and the green of the brush behind. There was no indication of a body geometry to indicate head or tail, shoulder or neck. Lupo leaned over my shoulder and asked if I could see the black, I confirmed. He asked if I could see the two small trees that were close together, I confirmed. He told me to place my shot in the middle of the mass between those two trees. As I was squeezing off the shot, I saw the tip of one horn that confirmed this was indeed the business end of the buffalo. At the shot he stood up and I chambered another round. As he stood, I could make out the front leg, the base of the leg and the head. I place another shot in the neck area and all hell broke loose. The buffalo took a hard turn to his right which brought him barreling with incredible speed and the sound of a heavy breathing freight train about 10 yards to our immediate right. I raised the muzzle of the gun up and over Lupo who was standing to my immediate right, dropped to a knee and fired at the black billboard of death that passed next to us with only a thin veil of brush between us. Lupo simultaneously fired as the buffalo passed by. After he passed, we heard a tremendous crash not more than 30 yards past where we lost sight of him. We later found that the acoustics in this particular bowl were very strange. I will elaborate more in a moment. Sadee (our Tanzanian shadow PH, Lupo and I gathered and stood shoulder to shoulder guns at the ready anticipating a charge at any time. We could hear heavy and ragged breathing coming from a large mound of dense palm trees and brush with what we assumed was stomping and pawing. After a few minutes of whispered discussion expecting that if the buffalo heard us, he would come for us, Lupo elected to retreat into the brush from which the buffalo had come from and work our way around and try to flank the thicket that we assumed the buffalo was holed up in. As we moved back into the brush, we found a large and ancient termite mound that had built itself up into a substantial pile of dirt roughly 5-8 feet higher than the ground around it with a large tree protruding through the top of it. We placed Ryan, our game scout and Sadee with a gun on top of this termite mound and then continued on our progression. We flanked the thicket from the 6 o’clock position to roughly the 9 o’clock position and began to advance. Roughly 30 minutes had elapsed and there was no longer any sound coming from the buffalo. Lupo and I advanced shoulder to shoulder slowly and methodically. When we were roughly 20 paces away, Patsun climbed a tree in an attempt to peer into the thicket to spot the bull but could not. Next, he threw a stick into the far end of the brush to elicit a response. There was no sound. As we advanced again to within maybe 5 paces, we noticed a blood trail that a blind man could follow crossing from our right to left. This seemed to indicate that the buffalo had gone further than we had assumed based upon the sound, so we turned and followed it. the trail lead roughly 15 yards past the thicket of brush and took a hard turn to the right and there lay our buffalo. The stomping and thrashing we heard was his head as he made one valiant effort to rise and fight this last enemy. He was an ancient old warrior with smooth bosses and worn down tips. He had long since passed his prime and was losing conditions in his shoulders, neck and hips. I had no goals or aspirations for what my first buffalo was to look like, but even without having seen him alive, I could not have asked for a more perfect bull to take for my first. As we would determine after we found him, my first shot had hit him high in the neck as he laid down. The solid bullet I shot had zipped harmlessly through the muscle of his neck. No doubt that if this had been the only shot, he would have been wounded and angry, but would have survived. My second shot was the fatal shot. It caught him low in the neck, behind the jaw and below the spine severing the arteries and likely windpipe. My third shot as he passed caught him in the bottom part of his jaw and likely had minimal effect on the outcome of the situation. Lupos shot had grazed the bottom part of his stomach and passed through the bone of his back left leg. Buffalo #1 was in the salt.
  • We hung half of this buffalo in an amazing bait tree near a beautiful pond and an amazing baobab tree. Unfortunately, this bait only attracted a lioness and a hyena at the very end of our hunt, I feel like this final resting place was fitting for this old warrior.

 

[Acopperdawg]

• Day 4 (Saturday July 13th)
• A day which may not be repeated.
  
  • The day started off with us sleeping in until 6:00 or so. There seemed to be no rush to get out of camp since we knew where the hippo was going to be, and we were not trying to shoot him on dry ground.
  • We left camp around 7 with a full convoy of 2 other trucks and at least 15 additional guys, although it felt like many more. We drove at a leisurely pace until we approached the Hippo Pond. We stopped a couple of hundred yards short and grabbed the guns and started walking. We could hear the hippos and their calls as soon as the engines shut off. The walk up to the pond was uneventful and we approached the pond from the north. The hippos very quickly knew we were there. We crested a very small rise adjacent to the pond and I took up a prone position with a very solid and firm rest across a bag with my 375. I had solids loaded, and there was nothing to do but wait for the bull to clear. We spent the next 20-30 minutes waiting for a moment when the bull had his eyes and ears above the water and facing us. This was the preferred frontal shot over a side brain shot. This was further complicated by the constant presence of cows and calves, and they seemed to shuffle and bob over to him to check in with the dominant bull. Eventually he cleared and I took my first shot at less than 30 yards. My first shot caught him just right of his left eye as he was slightly quartering towards me looking to my right. He was immediately stoned and came to rest in nearly the same position but facing further to my right, slightly lower in the water with his nose now submerged. My second shot caught him above his right eye and had more of an angle down and into the head. The third and final shot was likely unnecessary, but you pay the insurance with large dangerous game. After the second shot he had spun more and was now nearly sideways to me with a severe list towards me. My third shot grazed the top of his skull and exited in front of his left eye. The bull sank out of sight in the murky dark water. We believe that the first shot was a fatal brain shot as the bullet passed fully through his enormous head. The second shot would have been fatal on its own accord, but certainly helped to anchor the bull.
  • This is where the fun and excitement started. Everyone expected the remainder of the 10-15 hippos to leave the pond and move to the next pond after the shooting. They decided in stubborn hippo fashion that they were in-fact not going to be moved. It was anticipated that the bull would take 1-2 hours to float, and the time spent waiting was used to throw mud clumps and sticks at the pod to no avail. Then Lupo pulled out his fathers very old and lovingly warn two-two as the Africans call it. Shooting .22 rounds at the edge of the pod to further encourage them to vacate the pond had no effect. More assertive methods where needed. The larger .308 rounds and associated splash had the same affect of as the .22, which is to say they did not leave. Low and behold around 90 minutes after he was shot, the bull rose to the surface and the planning began in earnest. The bull was much further out than hoped for and the small amount of wind that we had hoped would push the massive animal closer to the shore and our recovery efforts was efficiently streaming over his aerodynamic belly with little effect. He was not going to be drifting magically to us. The boys pulled out the spare inner tubes for the land cruisers and fashioned a makeshift raft that was dubbed the HMS Lupo and the recovery got underway. I was nominated as the security sentry and told to grab a rifle and be at the ready. As the team of guys being commanded by Admiral Lupo pushed the HMS Lupo on its maiden and only voyage, I was instructed to fire “herding” shots at the pod to keep them at the distant edge of the seemingly much smaller than when we arrived Hippo Pond. The pond seemed ominously close given the hippos moniker of the deadliest animal in Africa. As the team advanced on the stationary but floating hippo, the volume of the team and the guys on the shore grew to a deafening pitch with Whistles and loud shouts of “Pigga!!! Pigga!!! Pigga!!” I was informed afterward that “Pigga!!!” means SHOOT in Swahili. I was emphatic that this would have been very useful information to have had before the excitement started. As the team worked to secure the tow rope around the bull, a sultry cow had decided she had enough and broke from the pod. She rapidly crossed from the left side of the pond to the right forcing me to relocate from my shooting station to the right to avoid impacting the guys in front of me. As the cow reached the end of the pond, I can only assume that as she turned around, she realized that she was now by herself and the group of men standing near the bull were firmly within her personal bubble. She submerged and came for the team in what could only be described as a “Wake of Death” although you could not see the animal, from my perspective it was very clear where this mercenary of death was and where it was headed. I was joined by Sadee as we rapidly worked the bolt on the two 375 caliber rifles. Luckly everyone had retreated from the path of death and the hippo cow abandoned the attack. The bull was slowly drug out of the water as hoops and hollers went up from the group of men that where , much closer to the action, than I came down from the adrenaline high.
  • Pictures do not do justice to the size of the animal that was being pulled out of the water by a straining truck and its 12,000 pound winch. The old bull was enormous. Franz Cope who was there said he could not recall a larger bodied hippo in his 55 years of hunting. I have not seen an actual measurement of the tusks, but they estimate them to be around 24 inches long. While the tusks are noteworthy, to me the story of this bull was the pock marked and deeply scared skin of this impressive old warrior. It is a great sadness of mine that I could not keep this hide to memorialize this animal so as to sit and think of the battles and injuries he must have endured. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I tell you that this animal was truly spectacular if the hardship and struggle this animal went through was taken into consideration. I imagine this bull having bore the brunt of many older bulls’ frustrations as he grew and matured. His back and hind legs were completely covered in scares that were not only long but had staggering depth to them indicating how much flesh had been removed from this animal during his epic battles. Then to think of this mountainous animal returning to the dark, murky and bacteria filled waters to heal, only makes it that much more amazing that he survived. I am particularly glad I was able to photograph the hide and markings of this animal because I will be able to look back and remember just how much of a warrior he was, especially the hourglass shaped scare he bore on his left side just behind his ear. He was a thing of beauty to behold.
  • I had only known Franz for a few days at this point, but it was obvious from the start that he is not only widely respected in the African hunting community, but he is also one of the most naturally funny people I have been around. I think this was perfectly captured after we had taken the trophy pictures, and the boys were preparing to start butchering this large animal. The boys were standing in a loose group sharpening their various instruments of the task waiting on direction from the head skinner Abdula. As Abdula was preparing to make the first cut, Franz walked up and very loudly exclaimed that I think hunter wanted the animal processed for a full body mount in Swahili. You could have heard a pin drop. Ryan described the moment best when he said that it looked like in an animated movie, the hero character first opens the door into a villain’s den. The villains, which are busy throwing knives, cutting rope and generally causing chaos, freeze and look at the intruder that just walked in. That is exactly the look the 15 gentlemen standing there had as they tried to grasp the unfortunate news, they had just been given which was sure to greatly lengthen the duration of the task at hand. Everyone burst into laughter as they realized Franz was joking.
  • We left the boys to butcher the animal and continued hunting. Right as the sun was beginning to set and everyone was on high alert during this magical time of day, we came across a group of Kudu. As Lupo jumped off the truck and I grabbed the gun, the group moved down the hill towards the floodplain that we had stalked the Hartebeest and zebra on the first day. Lupo set the sticks up and they were too low, more appropriately set for a shooter closer to 4 feet tall. I adjusted the sticks up and prepared to shoot only to drop the hammer on a very empty chamber. I had made the cardinal mistake of forgetting to chamber a round in the rush to safely exit the truck and catch up to Lupo. Mentally reset, chamber a round and prepare to acquire the animal in the scope. The movement of chambering a round caused the back right leg of the shooting sticks to slide on the hard dry ground. Simultaneously to this comedy of errors, the group of cows took off at a quick run, moving to my left in a path that would take them across the road in front of us and into the open. Not wanting to leave his hard fought ladies, the bull took up the run to follow. I tracked the bull on the sticks and as he worked his way towards the open it was very evident that this bull was not going to stop. I asked Lupo “On the run?”, no response. I asked again “on the run?” and Lupo responded “Take him”. I shot as he cleared the brush and he gave a slight mule kick, dropped his head slightly and increased his speed. The range was almost 200 yards, and I was unsure about the shot. Lupo and I hustled over to the spot looking for blood and very little was found. Patsun, Asiha and Sadee joined the track, and more blood was found. It was dark and there was not much of it. My heart sank as I recalled the shot and thought that maybe it was a gut shot. Roughly 200 yards into the track and I noticed blood spray 2-3 feet up a small tree where the bull had clearly passed. My mind raced as this was clearly sprayed blood which does not happen with a gut shot. It did not take much longer in the track for the faucet to open up and very visible spray patterns were becoming visible high up in the grass. Ultimately, we found a large spray of blood that was bright pink and appeared to have lung material in it. We found the expired bull not more than 20 yards later. He was a magnificent East African Greater Kudu. Beautiful as you can imagine with deep dark curls on his horns and a breath taking hide with brilliant white stripes that stood out sharply from his dark fawn colored hide. It was a difficult decision to make as a shoulder mount of this amazing animal would obviously be an impressive tribute to him, I felt that a euro mount and a full rug would better highlight his amazing color and stripes. My shot had caught him a bit back in the ribs, but his slight quartering away angle allowed the bullet to catch the back of at least one lung. This explains the almost 350 yards the bull ran.
  • I do not want to tell Ian’s story for him, but it adds to the sentiment held by all that this was a day that will never be repeated. Ian was able to collect his very impressive Leopard after a nerve wracking recovery in very dense brush. Everyone on the truck was relieved to be back in camp with no injuries and a cat in the salt. Well earned whiskey was shared by Ian, Simon and Adam.
  • Kelly had in his own write an incredible story to share as he had collected an ancient smooth bossed buffalo that had broken off a large chunk of his right horn. The initial shot had not been fatal, and a harrowing follow up was also necessary for this exceptional animal.
  • Needless to say, there were many fantastic and amazing stories told at dinner that night with each of us reliving the shots and the associated follow ups. Emotions where recounted and the highs of the day were shared. But overall, there was deep relief that everyone was safe and back in camp together.

 

[Acopperdawg]

• Day 5 (Sunday July 14th)
  
  • This was a day that everyone needed after the events of Day 4. It was quite and uneventful in the most positive way. The animals seemed to sense it as well. We checked baits and refreshed a few. We saw very little game and had very few stalks attempted.
• Day 6 (Monday July 15th)
  
  • Monday proved to be another quiet day. We did however get our first two leopards on bait. A very large old male came to a hippo leg that was hung high in a tree as a lion bait. We got our hopes up and set up a blind for this cat. We also checked the cameras at a very promising bait tree and spoiler alert, we got the first pictures of the good looking male that I ultimately wound up shooting on day 7. One of the more memorable parts of this day was the 1.5 hour bush nap in a hammock. It was peaceful and there was a fantastic breeze to keep the temperature down. We were told that Lupo and I seemed to be in a competition to see who could snore the loudest. Ryan, however, did not nap when it was calm and quiet. He elected to nap during one of the long drives we took as well traveled from bait to bait. Dear old dad turned into a combination human seatbelt, airbag and pillow. I wouldn’t trade the pain of using my ribs to brace and protect Ryan from the large bumps or the strain and numbness I felt in my right shoulder as I worked to keep him from aimlessly bouncing his face off the cab of the cruiser in front of him. It is a great memory I have from the trip, and it was worth the bumps and bruises to give my sweet angel the peaceful nap he so desperately needed. We returned to the leopard blind and sat for the rest of the afternoon waiting for the big tom to show himself. He never did make an appearance.

 

[Acopperdawg]

I am going to apologize in advance. I use bullet points instead of paragraph form when I write because that is how I think so pardon the formatting.

 

[BigGame]

Amazing story drumming up some old memories!!! One of life's pleasures to enjoy the experience with your son. Safe travels and good hunting.

 

[enysse]

Nice Kudu! Great story!

 

[WAB]

Love that old dugga boy! I’m really enjoying your report.

 

[DLSJR]

Congratulations on a good hunt and Thanks for the interesting report.

There is nothing better than sharing such a hunt with your son!

 

[cpr0312]

Congrats so far and thanks for sharing! Look forward to more!

 

[375Fox]

Enjoying the report so far. Did you book with Lupo or did he just happen to be your PH on this hunt? I didn’t see anything on the outfitter or concession you are hunting? I’ll be hunting with Lupo in May next year in massailand.

 

[Tucketed]

Great write up, story and hunt. Keep it going

 

[Acopperdawg]

Enjoying the report so far. Did you book with Lupo or did he just happen to be your PH on this hunt? I didn’t see anything on the outfitter or concession you are hunting? I’ll be hunting with Lupo in May next year in massailand.

I was invited by a gentlemen that had already arranged the hunt. The way it was explained to me, because I don't understand all the nuance of Tanzania, was that another Safari company booked the hunt on Lupo's concession. He was my PH and he managed the camp. We were originally set to hunt Massailand, but the late rains made the hunting difficult so we moved to his concession in the Selous. I don't think think you will be disappointed in hunting with Lupo. He is charismatic and very serious about hunting.

 

[Acopperdawg]

• Day 7 (Tuesday July 16th)
  
  • This day was destined to be Ryans day. Right out of the gate as the sun was coming up, we came across a big warthog sparing with a younger boar just off the road. Ryan made an amazing 100 yard shot off the sticks and folded the boar in his tracks. He had his first warthog in the salt.
  • We loaded up Ryans warthog and drove over to the bait site where we had the large leopard coming in. As we approached a beautiful healthy looking lioness sauntered away from the bait, clearly fat, happy and deeply unmoved by our presence. The camera told the tail and showed our leopard arriving to feed at around 1:00 only to leave minutes before the lionesses arrived with a young but very large male in tow. Much to our surprise, the lions were climbing the tree to not only feed from the ground but also the tree. Lupo made a plan to relocate the enormous leopard to a different tree that was less lion friendly. Ryan's warthog made a fantastic option for bait since it was fresh and available, but the big male never did return during our hunt.
  • Later that afternoon we left the truck and stalked through a very large flat and burned over area after a distant group of wildebeest. I was to be the shooter, but on the route, we came across a group of zebras. Lupo determined that they were all stallion and the plan changed and now Ryan was the shooter. The zebra where slowly marching in single file line and were playing right into our planned approach. The four stallions were thoroughly engrossed in themselves and paying their surroundings very little attention. They marched with a head up hilarious gate that was only made more laughable by the movement they were making with their head. They were all simultaneously marching with a high step while bobbing their head and tossing their chin at each other. It reminded me of a bunch of adolescent boys mockingly marching along with sticks for guns, no sense of rhythm and loudly singing an off tune marching song.
  • The rag tag band of stallions marched into the open and stopped to stare at each other while Ryan got on the sticks ready for a 150 yard shot. The curse of the prison ponies jumped right up and bit Ryan in the ass again. Lupo was standing behind Ryan directing the muzzle of the gun to the stallion standing perfectly broadside and completely unaware of the danger at hand. Lupo coached Ryan to squeeze, squeeze, squeeze……take the shot…..take the SHOT…….TAKE THE SHOT in a loud whisper. Ryan pulled the shot badly. Thankfully, he missed the entire zebra and, in the process, drew the ire of Lungai (Volcano). I was proud of Ryan. He understood he made a mistake and stood there and took a rather strongly worded butt chewing about squeezing and letting the gun scare you. All in all, there was nothing hurt or wounded but I think Ryan learned a valuable lesson there in that random patch of dirt in the middle of East Africa.
  • I need to give the kid credit more often. We made it to the truck and within a short drive, we spotted a group of impalas and off the truck we went, Ryan with the gun behind Lupo. The herd was spooky and there were a lot of starts and stops, on the sticks off the sticks and a few low runs to the next tree necessary to get in position to shoot. Before long, Lupo had worked us into place and Ryan made a 150 yard shot right onto the point of the shoulder. The stunning old ram was quartering hard to Ryan, and we had the best ram of the trip in the salt. He was old and broomed down on the tips with rings of secondary growth on his bases, but deep wrinkled ridges that started at the base of the head and went well up into the smoothed off points at the end. This was a fantastic old ram to take that really represented the best of the genetics in this area.
  • We loaded up the ram and started back down the road towards camp. It had been a great day with some fantastic shooting to both start and end our day. As we came around the corner, there slowly feeding on newly sprouted grass, not 40 yards off the road was a showstopper of a warthog. The kind of pig that does not need binoculars for you to recognize the size of the animal. Everyone on the truck stopped and pointed. Lupo came to a sliding stop. We had perfected the art of jumping off the truck by now and I was steps behind Lupo in seconds with a round chambered. I had learned my lesson already on this trip. A very anti climatic walk down the road, the sticks were set up, I was on the gun and the pig which was unaware of our presence never knew he was even being watched. A brilliant warthog was in the salt and for a few days I had a larger pig than Ryan.