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.

Wooly Snowplow

I ran into 4 huge bulls the other day. They were digging through the snow with their heads to get at the grass beneath. I managed to get really close without spooking them and I ended up with some great photos. I wish I could convey the size of these animals through the photos, just massive. It is really neat to see free-ranging wild bison.

Nice vs. Nasty

I have been seeing some neat bucks this year in the Book Cliffs. I just fell in love with a big old nasty 2x3. He had a huge frame, massive body, gnarly bases, a couple cheaters, and one of his eyes had been gouged out fighting. Not some peoples idea of a trophy buck, but all that character and nastiness makes him awesome to me. I would love to take a buck like him.


I also saw a buck that would probably meet most hunters definition of a trophy. A wide, symmetrical, clean 4 point. He was impressive too, but I still like my nasty buck. I am not sure what I would do if I had to choose between them.


This buck was still in full velvet in late November, typically a sign of missing the family jewels which logically has a negative affect on testosterone levels.


This is my favorite time of year in the Book Cliffs.

Tatonka

Spot

Stalk

Shot

Success

Hard at Work

These photos pretty much show my work schedule for the last couple months. I haven't included any photos of my desk in the basement where my thesis was written, or my office in Vernal where I do spend a considerable amount of time, but these ones are more fun.

The family chillin' the chopper before I went up to count Mountain Goats.


Radio-collared bighorn sheep at Flaming Gorge. Found the live ones and recovered the collar from a dead one too.


Jalapeno bacon cheeseburgers for lunch at the deer hunt checkstation. Mmmmm.


Bison photo taken out the window of our little 4-seater airplane. We did lots of circling and I didn't even puke.


Caught this bull digging through the snow for his breakfast.


This smaller buck hopped out of the way when his bigger buddy let him know he was invading his personal space bubble. Once the bubble was restored, they seemed to get along just fine.


I just caught of glimpse of these heavy antlers above the brush and stopped and watched this old buck for a few minutes. Big and chunky, just how I like 'em.



Hopefully I will be getting some more good deer photos in the next few weeks. Counting deer in November has to be my favorite part of my job.