Somewhere along the line, my son (Tiaan) and Ruhan’s son (Lenz) must have overheard us talking about our hunting plans, because two months before the hunt, we received a whatsapp message from them, basically inviting themselves along on our yearly hunt in Victoria West. 😄😄
The last time the two of them joined us on this hunt was back in 2019.
This hunting trip almost didn't realise, as so many things were up in the air. Our usual hunting weekend around the 9th of August (holiday) had already been booked by other hunters, and things at work were also a bit chaotic and unpredictable.
In the end, we basically ignored all the noise and just went for it. With the boys coming along, there was quite a bit of extra gear that needed to be packed and hauled along.
Me sharpening and testing 🙈 the pocket hunting knives:
Shooting a few rounds at the range (100m) to make sure the rifle was still shooting accurately:
I left my car with someone in Willowmore, thanking them with a bag (or two) of fresh citrus. You also can’t beat a late mandarin as a snack while hunting in the Karoo.
Keeping two young men well fed can easily become a challenge, so I baked a fresh sourdough loaf just before we left.
Ruhan and Lucille sponsored all the food for the trip, and I must say, there was certainly no shortage of it! It was just one good meal after another. Thanks again, guys !!
Finally, the day came and we were on the road again. A quick mention must be made of the lower tyre pressure for better handling on the dirt roads. 😉
The Karoo was GREEN and wet . . . . but later more on the "wet" part.
Ruhan bought each of us a Ketty about 2 months prior to the trip. A long story for another day 😄😄 It was not long before they came out for a bit of "plinking"
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No road trip is worth it's salt without a "wors" braai next to the road.
The perfect "braai-broodjie":
The first night, after everybody arrived safely on the farm, there were lots to discuss and plan. The "kuier" lasted till 01H00 in the morning. 😄😄
The most beautiful Karoo sunrise greeted us the next morning (way to soon for some 😄)
The first order of business was a visit to the shooting range, where everyone could get comfortable with their rifles and make sure everything was shooting accurately. As mentioned before, we believe in making clean kill shots and harvesting our animals in the most humane way possible.
Ready for the hunt to start and tackling the first camp on foot.
With no luck in the first camp we scouted, we had to drive further afield to another camp. This is where the wet conditions in the Karoo once again become part of the story.
On the way there, we came across a drift crossing, and there was some debate about whether the bakkie could make it across. Unfortunately, the answer turned out to be a definite “No” — and before long, the bakkie was properly stuck. 😃
Ruhan volunteered to stay with the bakkie while he waited for the farmer to come and assist. He suggested that the boys and I continue on foot while he stayed behind to sort out the situation.
The next hour became one of the highlights of the trip for me personally.
Some background: Normally, when Ruhan and I hunt together on foot, he takes the lead. That is simply how we established it from our very first hunt, and I am more than happy with that arrangement.
Over the years, I have learnt a lot from him, and now I felt ready to lead the boys on this hunt.
We decided to approach the koppie directly ahead of us, getting some elevation to have a better view of the area on the other side. The wind was also in our favour from this direction.
We moved slightly to the right, allowing us to approach through a natural neck between two koppies. On our way up the koppie, the boys quietly decided between themselves who would take the first shot if an opportunity presented itself.
We approached the top of the neck cautiously and kept low, careful not to silhouette ourselves against the pale blue sky. I was happy with the wind blowing steadily into our faces, and we all started scanning the plains below with binoculars and/or rangefinders. Nothing as far as the eye can see . . .
Then I caught a movement behind a bush, barely 140 metres from us. Two lone springbok rams were standing there. I signalled to the boys and immediately started setting up the tripod I was carrying.
They slowly moved from behind the bush into open space. Tiaan carefully settled his rifle onto the tripod, while Lenz froze on the spot and stayed low. I ranged the first springbuck and whispered the distance to Tiaan as he prepared to take the shot.
Seconds felt like minutes as Lenz and I waited for the shot. I was confident that Tiaan will make a clean kill shot, but I still kept my eyes fixed on that springbuck.
It was a decent size ram. . . .
The gunshot broke the silence and simultaneously and instantly the ram dropped. It literally dropped on the spot in its tracks and did not move again.
The second ram was clearly confused by what had just happened. It ran about 50 metres before stopping and turning around to look back at its “resting” friend.
I saw what was happening and called Lenz over to take position behind the tripod. Everyone moved slowly and quietly, trying not to alert the second ram. Within moments, Lenz was set up and ready for the shot.
Less than a minute after the first gunshot, the second shot ripped through the air. We heard the solid "thud" of the projectile hitting the springbuck. It ran about 30 metres before dropping — another clean shot, straight through the lungs.
What an AMAZING experience, both for the boys and me !
Danny, the farm owner came and pulled the bakkie from it's stuck misery. He also showed us an alternative road to drive and gave us directions to another camp we would go hunt the next day.
Back home, the boys field dressed the buck and then there were empty bellies to fill. Very succesful first day !
The next morning, we set out early. On our way to the camp Danny had pointed out to us, we scouted a few koppies and valleys, but didn’t see any buck. We eventually headed straight for the camp at the back of the farm.
Ironically, this was the same camp we had hunted with the boys back in 2019. It is a huge camp, and we soon realised that hunting it on foot alone was going to be quite a challenge.
The boys had set themselves a target of three springbok each for the trip, and we knew that hunting this massive camp on foot was unlikely to produce enough opportunities for that. We therefore decided to drop them off at a certain location, while Ruhan and I drove around the camp (without a rifle 🙈) to keep the animals moving.
I will now hand the story telling over to Tiaan, to give their side of the story of how that day's events unfolded:
The topography of this camp was particularly challenging for the type of walk-and-stalk hunting we do.
As mentioned, we had hunted this camp before, so Oom Ruhan took us to the same spot where he and Lenz had been positioned back in 2019, with good success. Lenz and I had the privilege of carrying both rifles and set off towards the spot, not expecting much action after the quiet morning we had.
The plan was to find a hidden spot with shooting possibilities in all directions on the small ridge, while my dad and Oom Ruhan took the bakkie around to the other side of the mountain to see if they could push some animals in our direction.
We hadn't even reached our position when a ram caught us completely off guard at about 50 metres. This was the first sign that our luck was about to change.
I had the only rangefinder between the two of us, so it made sense for Lenz to take the first shot. He quickly pulled out the shooting sticks, chambered a round and settled in. The ram, however, never really gave him a good opportunity, constantly jogging a few metres before stopping again. Eventually, at around 150 metres, Lenz took the shot, but unfortunately missed.
At least now we had a chance to settle in properly, find some good shooting positions and maybe even have a snack. Or so we thought.
It couldn't have been ten minutes later when another ram entered our area, this time at around 100 metres. We agreed that this one would be my turn. I got set up on the sticks and waited for a good opportunity.
The ram eventually stopped his jog at around 45 metres, standing perfectly broadside with his head turned towards us. Unfortunately, I didn't have a clean shot. I was practically sitting inside a bush, and by then the ram had almost moved past us.
I told Lenz to take the shot, and I don't think I had even finished the sentence when he rested the 7x57 Mauser across his knee and cracked off a shot.
The ram literally just fell over. He didn't take a single step.
We retrieved the animal, cleaned it and moved it into a shady spot nearby. We then settled back into position, had a quick lunch and waited for the next opportunity to present itself.
There were springbok "highways" running all around us. One track was about 400 metres away — a bit too far for us to shoot comfortably in the windy conditions we had. Another ran very close to us, where we had already encountered the previous two rams, while a third was about 200 metres out in front of us.
After a while, a small group of three springbok slowly drifted our way. It was finally my turn again. I chambered a round and prepared for a prone shot over my backpack. At about 150 metres, I was comfortable in taking the shot. The shot broke cleanly, and the buck dropped in its tracks.
After some celebrations, we noticed a very nice ram quite a distance away. He was about 350 metres from us, so we decided to give him some time to move closer.
Little did we know just how much time this ram was going to take!
We almost gave up on him several times. He was clearly in no hurry to go anywhere. At one point, we even lost his exact position when he moved into some denser vegetation.
We shifted around on our little ridge, trying to pick him up again, when suddenly he appeared about 280 metres away, looking straight at us.
Lenz was lined up on him with his rifle while I watched through the rangefinder. That ram stood there, staring directly at us, for what felt like an eternity.
I remember Lenz and I whispering back and forth as he considered whether to take a somewhat risky frontal shot in the wind. I told him that if we just sat still long enough, the ram would eventually start wondering what we were doing and hopefully make the mistake of moving closer.
And that is exactly what happened.
After being lined up on this ram for more than half an hour, our patience finally paid off. He eventually presented us with a broadside opportunity at around 220 metres, and Lenz placed a perfect shot just behind the shoulder. A great reminder that patience can be just as important as anything else when hunting.
Hard work has never felt as easy as it did when we went to retrieve our animals and get them ready for the trip back to the farmhouse. We could already see the bakkie approaching in the distance, but before packing away our gear, we spotted a small group of springbok bedded down about 350 metres behind us.
Naturally, we decided to try one last stalk!
Just as we started making our move, the infamous herd of “mountain blesbok”, as we had started calling them, appeared out of nowhere and began moving into our shooting area.
This particular herd had become quite the talking point during the trip. We were not allowed to hunt any of the other blesbok on the farm, but this herd was fair game. They spend most of their time high up on the largest mountain on the farm, making them a rather unreachable for hunters visiting the farm.
Unfortunately, the timing couldn't have been worse. The bakkie was approaching just as the herd moved through our area. Everything happened quickly, and the blesbok never gave me a proper shooting opportunity.
Lenz and I have already started planning our return to the farm next year, with the elusive mountain blesbok firmly at the top of our list.
By the time the bakkie reached us, we had quite a story to tell. We loaded the animals and caught my dad and Oom Ruhan up on the incredible afternoon we had just experienced.
Our dads spent their time exploring the neighbouring valley and reckoned there was still plenty of potential there, possibly even a chance of finding those elusive mountain blesbokke. They had marked a spot overlooking the valley that they thought would make a good vantage point.
There was just one small problem: getting there meant climbing a substantial mountain. With daylight running out, we needed to get going and make good time.
We hiked up the mountain and eventually reached a position that gave us a view over the entire valley below. Almost immediately, we spotted two herds of springbok, but unfortunately there was no sign of the blesbokke. We spent some time moving along the mountainside, scanning every corner of the valley in the hope of finding them.
Eventually, we decided to turn our attention to the springbuck. By then, only one of the two herds was still visible in the valley. We figured the other herd had probably started making its way up the very mountain we were standing on, possibly heading over the ridge and into the valley we had come from.
We quickly made our way towards a spot where we had previously seen animals crossing the ridge, hoping to intercept them. Unfortunately, we were a little too late. The first herd spotted us at about 20 metres and disappeared over the other side of the mountain.
But that got me thinking.
The second herd had also disappeared from the valley, and there was a good chance they were following exactly the same route. I told Lenz that rather than risk being caught out in the open again or chasing the previous herd down the mountain, we should find a good position and wait for them.
We had barely settled down behind a bush, trying to break up our silhouettes, when the herd appeared almost directly in front of us.
I was looking through the scope while Lenz had the rangefinder on them, and neither of us could quite believe what we were seeing. The first couple of rams were monsters!
I remember the two of us whispering excitedly, almost unable to contain ourselves. Lenz called out the distance: 100 metres.
There was no time to get the shooting sticks out. I rested the rifle over my knee, settled the crosshairs on the ram and squeezed off the shot.
A beautiful frontal shot, and the ram went down.
After an already incredible day, this felt like the perfect way to finish it off.
Of course, there was still the small problem of getting the buck off the mountain. The slope on the other side was incredibly steep, and carrying a springbuck down it was no easy task. Lenz grabbed the front legs, I took the back, and together we slowly worked our way down the mountain.
By the time we finally reached the bakkie, we were exhausted, but I don't think either of us could have been happier.
With both of us having harvested the animals we had set out for, we decided to dedicate our final day on the farm to processing and preparing all the meat. It was a long day of hard work, but there is something deeply satisfying about seeing the whole process through — from the stalk, to the harvest, and eventually to the meat that will end up on our table.
I often wonder what it is about hunting that makes an experience like this so rewarding. I think it goes deeper than the excitement of the stalk or the challenge of outsmarting an animal.
There is something almost instinctive about a group of men heading out into the vast open plains of the Karoo, working towards a common goal, overcoming challenges along the way and eventually returning with something to show for their efforts.
Perhaps it is a connection to something our ancestors did for thousands of years — something that is still part of us, but that modern life rarely gives us the opportunity to experience.
Whatever it is, I know one thing for sure: we will be back for more next year, and hopefully for many years to come.
