Afica...

[CAMO SNOB]

fuck'n rank

[BOGSTER]

From every safari hunting show that I have seen and every book that I have read, I've never seen an animal killed from a vehicle. Does it happen? Probably so, but I don't have much respect for that kind of hunting. I have never been but it is a dream to hunt in Africa one day. I believe we have one member here on SCDUCKS that has been, maybe he will share his story again.

I couldn't find a copy of the story by David Morris but it went down like this.

David, PH, black guy or two were hunting cape buffalo in the brush on foot. David set up for a shot, took the shot, animal charged him. David stood his ground, took careful aim, and fired again. The buff dropped 6 feet from him. He turned around and the PH, everyone else had ran off. Imagine something that weighs close to a ton trying to run your ass over in the middle of a patch of brush and you are only armed with a rifle. To me that would be an adrenaline rush like no other.

that story sounds intense.
Its just not for me, i bid you farewell on your future trip.
I have a friend who lived in Africa for 14 years and the stories of elephants, cape buffalo, hippo, big cats, what have you, are thick.
He is full of them.
Some like yours, others like the ones I dispise.
I guess I am some what of a snob the older I get and the more I finely tune my preferrences.
I hope when you go, you kill your quarry with true sport in mind.

[Sportin' Woodies]

that story sounds intense.
Its just not for me, i bid you farewell on your future trip.
I have a friend who lived in Africa for 14 years and the stories of elephants, cape buffalo, hippo, big cats, what have you, are thick.
He is full of them.
Some like yours, others like the ones I dispise.
I guess I am some what of a snob the older I get and the more I finely tune my preferrences.
I hope when you go, you kill your quarry with true sport in mind.

that is one of the faggiest things ive read

[boondoggle]

Bog you're far from being a snob but zeroing in closed-mindedness.

The night in Zimbabwe without the moon is a dark one. The southern cross glows brightly, but the darkness has closed in about you. It has been a long day, and the meal of eland steaks combined with that 3rd sundowner has made you sleepy. The mopane fire is dying and the darkness is closing in around it too. You stretch out in the bed, alone in the tent, and sleep come quickly. Somewhere in your unconsciousness, you him him call, but sleep takes over.

The night was short, and you awaken suddenly to the excited jabbering of the camp. Something has happened, you know not what, but something has happened. You dress quickly to see what it is, and as you exist the tent, the camp boss is pointing at your feet. There is the dirt is a track, a pug mark, it's bigger than your foot. He came in the darkness of the night and he was next to you. Are you afraid?

Maybe you should be, but the excitement has the adrenaline flowing. You're not hunting for him, you can't afford it and there is no quota, but he was there anyway. Maybe teasing you, but maybe stalking, stalking you. The incident goes by as the day wears on. It was a successful day, you bagged a bushpig today. A really unique pig, and you are thrilled with it, but now its supper time, and the night is soon here. Sitting by the fire, you hear the deep throated call. Is he coming back tonight ?

The tent walls are just a piece of canvas. He can see tonight, you can't. It is a bit of a troubled sleep you fall into, waking several times to listen, but it is quiet. There is no sign the next morning. Breakfast is tasteless as your mind wonders, but then it's time to go hunting. Today there is the big waterbuck you saw yesterday. He ghosted away, but you know he is still in the area.

As the morning wears on, nothing is seen, at least nothing worth shooting. Its lunch time and camp is close by enough to have a grand lunch there. A grand lunch it is too, your stomach is full and your eyes are heavy. Then on the nearby road there is a man on a bicycle hailing the camp. It is a man from the small village a few miles away. He is calling for help.

The great one has killed, killed his donkey, killed his cattle. His family, and indeed the entire village are afraid to go out a night. Your PH makes a radio call to the authorities describing what has happened. You can't understand what they are talking about, but the excitement of the conversation is addictive. Fred puts down the microphone and walks toward you. Boss, he says the people are afraid to leave their village and the big guys say we are to help. They have given us a quota. Are you up to it??

The answer comes before you can even gain a thought, and you grab your rifle by the twin barrels and jump into the cruiser. 3 trackers are with you this time. It isn't a case of sport, but rather one of living or dying to the people.

The old man on the bicycle rides along and points out the spot, but from a distance. He is afraid to get closer, are you? The half eaten donkey is laying near a bush. The field of long grass surrounds it. Fred and the trackers are out of the cruiser examining every little detail. Was it him? The one that came in the night. The tracks say so.

Backtracking into the bush long hair is found. Long black hair. Your heart is beating a rhythm that could lead a marching band. Is it possible that this is really happening? You don't pinch yourself, but the butt of the rifle drops on your toes. It is real, very real, and the night is coming. A blind is quickly set up and fred leads you into it. 75 yards away is the donkey, or what is left of it.

You wait, the heat of the sun makes the blind feel like a steam bath. Sweat runs down you face, leaving dust streaks across your cheeks. The sun has turned red and the breeze has died. Night is coming. You know that is his time, he is king.

The sun has disappeared and Fred takes one last look. It's time to call in the cruiser. Not tonight, not yet. The events of the day pass through you mind on the ride home. Why did he not come? Everything had been perfect, but he did not come.

The dark of the night has closed in around you as you hike back to the tent. Your torch lights the path, the same patch that he had walked only 2 nights ago. Tonight again? The nagging fear lies in the crevasses of your brain.

A worried sleep takes over. The night is long, it is cold, it is dark, and it belongs to him. There is no need for an early ariseal in the morning. You can take time with that extra cup of coffee. The morning is half over when you board the cruiser once again.

It doesn't take long to reach the little village, but something is wrong there. There are no people. Fred beeps the horn and the trackers shout for the people. Finally the old man comes out of his house. There is fear in his eyes as he describes the last night. It seems as a young girl was riding her bike home and he attacked.

Luck was with her, she spent the night high in a sausage tree, beyond his reach. Her bike however did not share her luck. Angry at the near miss, he took his rage out on the bike. He is huge they tell you, at least the size of an elephant.

Now your hunt has a new meaning. You must succeed. Back to the blind, back to the heat, back to the sounds. The sun is red once again. You have dozed off, when Fred grabs your knee. You can hear a crunch before your eyes are totally open.

He is there, the remainder of the donkey his meal. His black and ginger mane is flowing in the breeze as you move every so slowly toward your rifle. You mount the gun, and the barrels move, not much but they moved and he saw it. From the crouch, he is on his feet. The yellow eyes glare through you. He knows. He knows you.

Your finger touches the front trigger and the primer ignites the bowl full of powder the brass holds, The 400 gr bullet is on its way. But he turned just as you fired. You heard the sound of the bullet hitting, but he ran. Ran into the shoulder high tan colored grass

What have you done. Its almost dark and he is in the grass. You can hear him growling.

In your mind’s eye you see the shot, it looked good, but it ran, and he is alive. The light is gone, the night has taken over and you must go into the grass. Now are you afraid?

He has gone quiet over a half hour ago. Is he waiting?

Stories you have read run through your mind. Fearful stories. Stories of blood and death. Still you have to go in after him. You wish for armour plating replaced the shirt and vest you are wearing.

There is blood in the grass, it coats the stalks of grass. The walk goes ever so slowly, one millimeter at a time, senses at their peak. You are sweating again, but not from the heat this time .

It is quiet, almost to quiet. Ahead is a small break in the grass. An open area, not large but at least you can finally see something other than grass. The light of the torch plays across the opening and there is a lump on the edge. The same color as grass, but not grass. His hip is still, his legs move no more The fierce eyes, are open no more.

You feel hollow inside. excited, but empty. Fred is beating your back; the trackers are dancing and singing. All of a sudden you are a hero, or are you. Heroes aren't supposed to be afraid.

The memory of that night lingers for months afterward. Every so often while laying in the comfort of your own bed in your own house, you wake, and listen. Maybe it was a ghost - his ghost.


Are you afraid?

[ccleroy]

that is one of the faggiest things ive read

Aint no Shit...........Bog.........what a fuckin' loss.............

[Fish]

I see no issue at all with shooting a LOT of stuff in Africa. But with the estimated leopard breeding population at around 50,000 animals, the big cats are running a bit short to be shooting them in situations where individuals haven't become a menace to the locals.

Then again, maybe the locals need a little thinning out.

[tradorion]

BOG- i feel about drugs like you feel about African Safaris

as for the boys scrapping with the cat.... large set O fuzzy nutz right there....

[jwilliams]

Please forgive me when I say this...BUT...I agree with BOG...Dadgumit! Wish I hadn't of said that. Never tickled my fancy thinking about shooting monkeys, lions, and elephants...giraffes....whatever floats your boat....it just don't float mine.

tame buffaloes....now that would be a challenge.

[baydog]

I seriously doubt that the leopard was shot out of a truck. I seriously doubt a truck was within a mile or two of the attack, as leopards are extremely wary animals. It is illegal to hunt leopards with artificial light anyway. The lights were only used (I assume) to track the wounded leopard (once wounded they WILL attack, just a matter of when) because it was getting dark. (which I may add is the most dangerous time to track a wounded leopard). Can you go on a hunt (anywhere in the world) and shoot a bunch of shit out of the back of the truck, Yes. But I know from experience that the vast majority of hunting is done on foot, not truck. the truck just gets you where you are going, much like going to your deer stand. As the hunting industry gets more industrialized, more and more folks are getting bad tastes in their mouths, but generalizing an entire continents hunting resources based on your own personal perception is doing the continent/country and yourself an injustice. I will say that for those who have written africa off based on their perception of how you hunt there (which is misplaced in my opinion) you will truly miss one magnificent hunting experience(s).

To each his own.

[Stripa Swipa]

You can have as much or as little "hunt" as you want in Africa. Just because you saw elephants at the zoo as a kid doesn't necessarily give you the proper perspective on what a hunt for elephant could be.

Kind of like seeing the turkeys at Sportin's place and trying to contemplate what hunting them would be.....

Bog, you are trying to make the right point but maybe picked the wrong discussion.

[Tater]

surely tuning down the governor on hunting vehicles isn't common practice in Zimbabwe.
Most toyota trucks are capable of out running a cape buffalo.


I must admit to turning up my nose.

I have never been to Africa and my big game experiences are limited to 500 lb hogs on the Florida prairie.
Its no elephant, but it still felt cheap to be shooting them from atop our swamp buggies.
For me, seeing a man leaning against a hippo or elephant with a 300 mag and a huge smile is all too disgusting.
For what? wheres the challenge? Shooting an animal the size of special ed school bus either from atop a land rover, or a tree blind, I simply cannot find sport in.
I feel the same way about shooting big cats.
Do what you like, just don't try to tell me how sporty it was. In my eyes it will always be cheap.
I am entitled to my opinion and in regards to african safari, I doubt it will change.

I can't quite pinpoint it, but I get the same feeling about african safari as I do when I see those saturday morning hunting shows and some guy is shooting a 16pt buck under feeder from inside a treehouse looking box blind down in texas.

I'll pinpoint it for you. You shot a pig out of a truck. You feel cheapened by it. Now you denigrate the hunts of others so as to bring them down to your truck shooting level for as we all know, misery loves company.
Now if I could only figure out just where Glenn fell off the turnip truck things would look a better.

[Glenn]

I hate turnips.

Love turnip greens.

[Chuck the Duck Slayer]

Now if I could only figure out just where Glenn fell off the turnip truck things would look a better.

Musta been when he was in the NAAAAA VVVVVV EEEEE for SIXXXX years woudl be my guess tater.

[Wad Shooter]

I'm still trying to figure out where Afica is...

[BOGSTER]

Boon, that was an incredible story.
It put me in Africa with the rifle in my hands.
That author has talent.
However, I cannot see the correlation.
Your story tells tale of a village in need of help from a man eater.
If big cat hunts in Africa were soley based on a need for the welfare of villagers I may feel different about the situation. But the fact is, that simply isn't the case.

Wait at the water hole hunts, or as I said, "truck hunts" disgust me.

Tater, I felt cheap on those hunts. I am not trying to degrade someone's experiences or future experiences, although it may have come across that way.
I cannot find sport in sitting on the banks of the Congo in a constructed blind, waiting to shoot a massive hippo as it slowly mosies up onto land to feed.
I, myself, would feel like I was about to shoot a cow.
Granted hippos are responsible for a huge percentage of deaths each year in Africa, but while sitting 75yds away with a 300mag, I cannot see myself fearing for my life.
The same with a lion, or an elephant.
Both of these animals are capable of killing humans with little energy excerted, but that fact alone (for me) isn't enough for me to feel I have tamed the wild.......with a 300mag.......from 75yds away.
What driving forces are behind your feelings of reward when an elephant is killed?
Thats what I struggle with. I believe I would feel saddened if I were to see such an awesome animal shot for no reason. Yeah, yeah, "the animal feeds loads of hungry villagers for weeks"........i know, but don't try to tell me you flew across the atlantic because your heart was heavy for some thatched roofed brethren.
I know I see things differently than most folks who use a shotgun in the South.
I am not a meat hound, and I do not love to kill for the sake of killing, but make no apologies or feel no remorse for the killing that I do.
I enjoy being with nature and enjoy a good hunt.
I enjoy outsmarting my quarry rather than riding up on it and shooting it.

I do not, and will never see riding across the vast plains of Africa in an suv, spotting a herd of elephants, hippos, or a pride of lions and walking within gunshot, as outsmarting anything.

that is all.

[Tater]

You're locked in on shooting something out of an "suv". Whatever happened to "to each his own"?
I also doubt that most that go to Africa do so because their heart strings are being pulled by their "thatched roof brethren". They go for the same reason you go to the marsh. It's kinda like a benefit concert. 90% of the people there are going to see the show, supporting the cause is a side effect. That's why they work. Same thing is going on here. These hunts are a helluva lot more regulated than you can imagine. Do they benefit the locals? Hell yeah they do. Is that why people go? hell no it ain't, but it works. It's a win-win-win really. The locals benefit from the meat/money, etc. The hunters benefit from the experience/kill, etc. and the animals themselves benefit from the regulated hunting. This whole thing prompts the locals to eliminate poaching as they derive zero from it.
If it's not your thing, that's cool.

[BOGSTER]

Explain the driving force behind an African safari Tater.

You seem like a sensible guy and I'm sure your view of it will be well explained.

I am not being rude, I am just trying to see it from another perspective.

[PBiz]

Explain the driving force behind an African safari PBiz.

You seem like a sensible guy and I'm sure your view of it will be well explained.

I am not being rude, I am just trying to see it from another perspective.

I like to hunt and kill animals... Africa has lots of animals... I would like to kill them all

[Tater]

First off you must realize that I, myself, have no desire to go to Africa to kill anything. I will, however, try to put into context what I've gathered from those I know that have been.
Everyone has their own view of what the penultimate hunt is. Some have the means to make this happen, some don't. There are plenty here that would say hunting the Rockies for elk is their top desire. I'm sure there's some here who have been to or would consider Africa the top. What drives their desires is personal. For some it may be ego. For others it may be the danger involved. For others it may be something their father dreamed of and never made happen. Some may even want it simply to say the did it. The reasons are endless and varied as human personalities are endless and varied.
It's the same with everything in life. Cost calls for example. I'm sure there are those that buy them because they always wanted one, but I dare say the driving force behind a lot of it is because so few CAN have one that more people want them.
I've done neither, but I'd rather go on a hunt for marsh birds in SC than an elk hunt in CO. Plenty of people will never be able to wrap their mind around that, but it doesn't matter to me. I have my reasons and that's ultimately all that matters.
You likened hippos to cows, I liken deer to goats. Tot is all geeked up about hunting deer so I keep my feelings to myself and take him every chance I get. Mine is not to take away what's his, nor is mine to take away what's theirs...unless they release retriever forum birds...

[Stripa Swipa]

Bog,

I'm all about making sure there is hunt in the hunt but any woody hole duck hunter that looks down on others for a "wait and shoot them when they come to where they naturally want to be" hunt is being a bit hypocritical yes?