Springbok, The Begining...

A couple years ago my Dad fulfilled one of his lifelong dreams and went on an African Safari. His first safari was highly successful and he had the experience of a lifetime. I listened to his stories about the animals, the people, and the landscape. It sounded amazing, but to me it just wasn't quite "real". It was something that you hear other people talk about, see on TV, but it was something that I knew I would never experience. My Dad talked about going back and taking me with him. I was sure that he was sincere and that he really did think it would be nice to go back over together, but I didn't think it would ever actually happen.

Even after he announced to me that we were officially going and bought air tickets, etc., it still just didn't quite feel like we were really going to do it. I stayed so busy with work and other obligations that I didn't have much time to think about it or prepare. And, all of a sudden it was time to pack up and head out on MY African Safari.

After traveling for what felt like a week and a half (but was only actually 3 days) we landed at the airport in Windhoek, Namibia. We met our hosts and were off to the ranch where we would be hunting. The warthogs running across the road and baboons sitting on the telephone poles as we drove were surreal. Even though I hadn't slept more than a couple hours in the last 2 days I sat with my eyes wide open trying to take in every detail of the totally foreign landscape.


It felt incredibly good to sleep in a real bed compared to my futile attempts to catch a few winks in the economy seats of a crowded airliner over the previous two days. Despite the excitement and anticipation I slept like a baby, and woke the next morning ready to start my adventure.

After a few shots at the range making sure that the rifle case was the only item the jerks at the TSA beat the crap out of, I was ready to go. My Dad's friend Ken who accompanied us won the "choose a number between 1-10" challenge and had the opportunity to hunt first. As we headed out across the Kalahari desert in search of game I was still just soaking up the scenery, the plants, the birds, the smells. Africa just feels electric and alive, and it is contagious.

After a short drive we spotted a bedded Springbok snoozing in an open meadow. Ken and the trackers made a stalk. After getting into position they had a long wait until the old man decided to stand up. After a warning shot, Ken shook the jitters and anchored the first big game animal of our trip. The Springbok was an old male with striking coloring and beautiful dark horns.



After the trackers took Ken's springbok back to the butcher at the farm house, we continued our hunt. Now it was my turn, and I didn't have to wait long before I had the opportunity to take my own springbok. After my shot, he turned and ran 30 yards before expiring in the tall grass. The grass was so high that it took us several minutes of searching before we found him. I had taken my first animal on the dark continent and my Safari had begun.