Best regards,

Loren

While most would consider the adventure to an African hunting trip to be the final product, that product would not be as valued without the phenomenal services and efforts of your operation and all of the people associated with it. Thank you for running your business in the manner that you do.

Overall Impression
The entire Tanzania Bundu Safari crew is outstanding in every way. I have absolutely no complaints and heartily recommend their company and concessions. Equipment, food, lodging, PH and camp staff are all first rate. Hunt conditions were, let’s say challenging. The short rains started, according to Chantelle, Adam’s wife on November 6th. They morphed into monsoons or Texas toad stranglers and it was still going on when Snowy Mountain Hunter (my partner and companion) and I left Kilamanjaro Airport last Friday evening. Prior to the hunt, we spent a couple of days on photo safari in Lake Manyara National Park and Ngorngoro Crater. Outfitter was again, Tanganika Trekkers. EVERYONE SHOULD DESCEND INTO THE CRATER AT LEAST ONCE IN YOUR LIFE. It is a world class destination like my beloved Yellowstone.

The Hunt
We turned off the asphalt at 1:10 in the afternoon and clawed and tugged our way into Lobo at 9:40 that evening. Hmmmmm? I mention it only as it became common place. Each subsequent day out of camp was reminiscent of a bunch of good old boys from down south going to the mud bog races everyday. Whew, what a ride!! My PH, Paul Horsly, drove like a raped ape just to be certain we didn’t get mired in the dreaded black clay. We laughed all the way and shimo kubwa (big hole) became one of my favorite and most used swahili terms. Sometimes I added a little English, like big sumbich, or f— me running, etc., etc.
The first monring I managed to knock down this Coke’s hartebeast. The shot was an honest 275 to 300 yards, but one shot through the front half of the big hairy part and trophy fee tally clock was running.

However, a couple of mud holes later and toward evening, I managed to miss a zebra, TWICE, at not over 200 yards. I quit in disgust and headed for the obligatory sundowner at the Lobo lodge. My devoted crew started to have doubts about this eupe mtu (white man). And it was evening of the first day, and the PH said it was good.

Paul and I spent the next two nights stuck in the bush. The first night was at a place called Kimatoro, a flat plain about 5 miles west/southwest of Lobo camp. The pictures are self explanatory. It is particularly open country with the current depth of mud somewhere below 5 feet or so. Nevertheless, although not tucked away at night sleeping in a land cruiser in a pouring rain enabled me to experience a different side of Africa. Impressions? night sounds, the inquisitive nature and patient helpfulness of the Masai people, the Southern Cross AND the Big Dipper on that first night, billions of mosquitoes and me with the malerone tucked safely away in the tent at Lobo, no lights visible in any direction, hyenas doing their thing, and then next morning while waiting for the tractor to come in and pull us out I killed a nice wildebeast bull that was running with 7 zebras. We walked him down about two miles to close the “deal”. Again, with no cover, it was about 225 yards. Holy Crap!! but the talley book is running. It was about 7:30 a.m.

By the way, this wasn’t where we got stuck at Kimatoro. This was the better part of the road.

When we got back to the Land Cruiser, which I have now christened the Antichrist, a Masai woman had shown up with what appeared to be a yellow mop bucket full of porridge. It was fresh and made from maize and goats milk. Breakfast in bed, so to speak. I sensed that I might be being tested a little bit, as Paul asked me if I wanted any of it. Yep, I accepted. Hell, I’d already had a severe case of Tanzania two step so I didn’t figure it would get any worse. I politely tooked a couple of swigs and noted the muffled guffaws, smiles, furtive looks among the Masai warriors and elders sitting back away from the porridge pot. I guess it meant that I had passed, but I was secretly proud of myself. None of that drinking blood shit though! I’ve go my limits.

WE spent all day with the tractor, pulling and pushing, breaking tow chains, getting the tractor stuck, yada yada yada. Somewhere after dark, we came roaring around a frog pound and some kind of big nasty bush. I hollered at Paul, “Lots of water here.”
Paul, “Huh?
Mike, “Lots of wa—-.” Yep, floated the differentials again and the tractor right on our ass into the same water hole.
O.K. second night in the bush. Impressions? Very vivid, but the most distinguishing was a beautiful full moon floating above puffy white clouds, the deafening croaks of thousands of different frogs, and the Masai village about 100 yards from our dug in position. Paul is half Masai, and I think it really added to this whole safari experience. At 3:00 a.m. we walked over to the boma and sat down with the warriors and elders, spears gleaming in the moonlight, voices muffled and conversation minimal. They were cooking stick meat on skewers over an acacia fire, the wildebeast I had shot the previous morning. Yep, I carved off a hunk with a knife and had a late dinner with the Masai. Whew, what a night, an no bugs.

But did I mention the snakes? I have read ad nauseum for years about you guys who have been to Africa 50 times and never seen a snake. Well, I call bullshit! My tally (without trophy fee) one black mamba, three cobras, and one boom slang on the front porch of my tent. Holy Crap! Don’t forget this was seven days. I won’t detail these encounters, but me and Indy, Why did it have to be snakes? I hate snakes. I went from being known by my faithful native staff as Babu Mike (gray haired old fart) to Mtu Wa Nyoka (White Snake Man) Oh how comforting. There was another they told me about later. Kind of like what Babu don’t know won’t hurt him. Holy Crap! I hate snakes.

The days blend together. I haven’t got a clue what day it is, but somewhere along the way I killed a very nice Grant’s gazelle. We tracked him down, again, out on the Kimatoro plain. Made a hell of a shot, pretty close to 300 yards. The sight picture was good, the let off was crisp, and he dropped like a sack of spuds. Never mind it was some X” distance left of where I thought I was shooting. Old White Snake Man is a killing unit baby!

Then there was the buffalo, Nyati, soon to become Mbogo. We waited for the road to dry some so we could get in to where reports had them hanging out. It was worth the wait. The herd was somewhere around 700 head. Spot, stalk, parallel the track, check the wind, watch your flank, feel the thunder under your feet, hear the ominous (to me) bellowing, think of Ruark’s quotes, and finally bare down on the beast. Distance according to Paul was about 110 yards. I have learned to trust him completely and I let drive off those damn sticks. Personally I think it was only 109 yards. First shot was mid ships in the shoulder, probably too far forward. Broke the shoulder and angled into the body cavity somewhere but it cut him out of the herd. Game ON! Walking quickly and reloading the magazine. He’s stumbling and his head is dipping down on occasion. Finally he stops and is broadside facing right, same broken shoulder. Fired, shot over. F—!! Game Still On. Walk and reload and never lose sight of him. Finally, he’s had enough. He turns to face us. Paul says if we take a couple of more steps he’s gonna charge. O.k. so stopping is a good idea. He turns mostly sideways and I let drive, as it turns out with the A Square solid. It went as it’s supposed to through the lungs. He walked or stumbled about 15 feet and collapses, bellowing for all he’s worth. He’s trying his damnedest to get up and continue the fight be he can’t. We close the distance quickly and I spine him at about 20 feet. Death bellow and he lays his head down. Wow! That was incredible! I’m not big on measurements and told Paul right from the beginning that I just wanted mature animals taken fair and square. The deed is done and he measures about 41 3/4″ with bosses at 11 1/2″, about 11 years old and 1200 pounds or so. I won’t go on with the last cobra story. I hate snakes! Now that really scares me.

Time to go home. There are a lot more stories and memories. I will think about all of this often and for much time to come. The safari was everything I ever thought or hoped it would be. Expensive? You bet you bippy and worth every damn penny. Will I do it again? Maybe, maybe not. This was much to satisfying to start thinking ahead. Like a good Merlot, or porridge in a mop bucket, it needs to be savored for its own rewards.

PH’s Wayne Clark and Paul Horsly. As we say in Montana, men to ride the river with

Best advice I can offer

I spent all summer shooting off cross sticks at an 8″ paper plate with an orange target dot on it. I got pretty damn good with too, BUT you need to start at 200 and 300 yards off sticks. The shots were much longer than I anticipated. Remember what Mel Gibson told his boys in the The Patriot when they ambushed the Brits, “Aim small, miss small”. Fortunately, I didn’t have to write a check for animals lost. Lastly, go with the flow and have fun. Leave your Type A personality in the urban world you exist in.

There is no such place as too far, and no such thing as too ready.

Lala Salama,
Yellowstone

This is our 2nd time to hunt with PH Brian Van Blerk (did a 21-day hunt with him in the Selous in 2004)and when I booked with Adam it was under the condition that Brian would be our PH. He is one of the best and my wife and I consider him part of the family.

The Lion was taken on day #2.

My wife struggels to lift his head up for a photo.

Lion skull – notice the left side upper molar is missing and the lower molar has a lot of calcificationn on the tooth. The upper part of the skull also had several teeth marksfrom fighting.
Leopard was taken on day #17.

Buffalo

My wife liked to get in there with the boy’s – she would even help us load some of the bigger animals.

Hartebeest

Grants

Lesser Kudu

Bushpig

Bat Eared Fox

Wildebeest

Dik Dik

Oryx

PH Brian Van Blerk – this was his 26th lion and 106 leopard. Truly a great hunter and great person -can’t say enough about his ability and passion.

Steinbok

Lobo Camp

Lobo Kitchen

Lobo Dining Room

Leopard track w/ 416 Rigby for scale

Dung beattle – they stand on their front legs and push the ball with their rear legs; about every 18″ they stop and crawl on top and look around to make sure they are headed in the right direction.

Walking Stick

Skinning Shed

Salting hides

Lion kill ~1 mile from camp

The hot water tank for our tent – had hot water around the clock

Lokilsale Camp

The bush air compressor

My plans to return to Africa started the previous year when I purchased a Browning take down lever action rifle. A take down rifle chambered for Hornady’s 450 Marlin cartridge seemed ideal for my next safari, a perfect blend of practicality and nostalgia. I readily admit, Teddy Roosevelt’s use of a .405 Winchester lever action rifle on his 1909 African safari strongly influenced my use of a similar rifle almost a century later. While I thought this combination a sound reason for another African safari, my wife was skeptical but relented without undo delay. I purchased the new Browning rifle and a plane ticket to Africa on the same day.

I’ve always liked heavy, slow bullets. Lots of “wallop” and easy on the shoulder. Hornady’s .450 Marlin load at about 2,200 feet per second with a 325 grain bullet seemed ideal for African brush and plains game where most shots are under 150 yards. The rifle’s take down action meant that I didn’t have to travel with a long gun. I always take a shotgun for sand grouse and francolin. Now both firearms fit in a Pelican double shotgun case. I mounted a Leupold 1X4, heavy duplex, scope with quick detachable rings on the receiver. The scope can be quickly removed if the iron sights are needed. The whole package weighs a little over 8 ½ pounds, light enough to carry all day and heavy enough that recoil is manageable.

Next, Adam Clements of Safari Trackers, booked a cape buffalo hunt for me in September 2008 with Tshipise Safaris. Camp is on the Nwanedi River in South Africa. The confluence of the Nwanedi and Limpopo Rivers would be the area I’d be hunting. The Limpopo River forms the boundary between South Africa and Zimbabwe. Mozambique is about 40 miles down river.

I’m not a “crack” rifle shot but, with the Browning 450, I can shoot a 2” group at 100 yards. More than adequate for the distances I typically shoot on safari. The longest shot on any of my previous safaris was 165 yards. The area I was hunting is mostly mopane trees but the last rains were in January so there wasn‘t much cover.

I chose Hornady’s 350 grain Interlock cartridge for cape buffalo and Hornady’s 325 grain LEVER Evolution cartridge for everything else. The 450 Marlin could appear, at first, light for cape buffalo looking only at energy measured in foot-pounds. Energy in foot pounds uses velocity and bullet weight in the calculation. No value is given to bullet diameter.

For African game I think John “Pondaro” Taylor’s formula for “Knock Out Value” is a measure at least as relevant. Taylor, who died in 1969, hunted in Africa for over 25 years and was the author of African Rifles & Cartridges and Big Game & Big Game Rifles. The key difference in KOV is recognizing the importance of bullet diameter. Velocity and bullet weight being equal, the bigger bore will have more “Knock Out Value”. Taylor’s formula includes bullet diameter as well as bullet weight and velocity to calculate KOV. My math, using Taylor’s formula, calculates the 450 Marlin KOV at 45. This falls between two venerable African cartridges, the 450/400 3” NE and the 375 H&H with KOV of 47 and 41, respectively. When I selected the Browning BLR take down rifle in 450 Marlin I wanted a modern, big bore/low velocity cartridge that I was confident could “do the job” as my only rifle on an African cape buffalo and plains game safari. The 450 Marlin had a lot to live up to as my only rifle on three previous safaris was a 375 H&H. I’d taken everything from elephant to springbok with the 375.

This seemed to be a plan worthy of execution. In the back of my mind I couldn’t help but wonder if I wasn’t just rationalizing what I was going to do anyway. My wife reminded me that many men, especially hunters and gun enthusiasts, have a way of doing this.

My PH was Gerrit Kleinhaus. Gerrit is a licensed dangerous game PH in South Africa and his clients had taken eight buffalo so far this season. We had been hunting cape buffalo for three days. Awake at 5 am, out of camp at 6, back at noon, out again at 3 pm and retuning by 7 pm in the evening. My safari was in late September and early October and for the first few days the temperature was over 100 degrees. The pattern was always the same, we would find a herd, stalk, but could never get close enough for a shot before the herd spooked.

On the third day we tracked a herd but the lead bull would always sense some danger and run away before we could get close enough for a shot. By the afternoon of the third day Gerrit realized we needed to do something different. The cover was to open and the buffalo were to spooky for a stalk to be successful. The first day I could have taken a head on shot at about 120 yards but that was not a distance I was comfortable with so I passed. Gerrit decided to try to ambush the herd. We moved to where he thought the buffalo would pass on their way to the river for water. It worked except we were late. The last of the herd was passing through as we arrived. We then made a mad dash to move ahead and try another ambush. This time we were waiting as the herd came down a dry wash. The bull that had been causing us trouble all day was leading the herd. He would pass through an opening about 80 yards away. Up went the shooting sticks and I was ready. It was 5:45 pm, late in the day if I wounded the buffalo. Gerrit said he was 98% sure the buffalo was mature. He said he would whistle when the bull passed through the opening. Gerrit whistled and I fired. The buffalo made the classic jump from my shot then ran away with the herd. We ran to where the buffalo had been hit and found his tracks where the front hooves came back down after bucking. My PH was surprised I had fired. He whistled to stop the buffalo and be sure it was one I would want to take. I thought Gerrit whistled so I would have a standing, broadside, shot. Too late for any second thoughts then, it was going to get dark quickly. The trackers quickly found blood and then where my buffalo, and two others, had left the herd.

We followed the blood about 100 yards and saw a buffalo glaring at us about 40 yards away. The only problem was a small tree right in front of his chest. Gerrit could not be absolutely sure this was the buffalo I had shot since the tree obscured his chest. We walked towards the buffalo with both of our rifles ready. The bull ran out and we saw the blood on his chest. We both fired as he ran into some thick brush. We heard the death bellow and I was jubilant! The buffalo was down just inside the cover. Gerrit had me put two “insurance” shots in the spine. It was almost dark and everyone was relieved. The bullets were recovered later by the skinner. My first shot went just behind the shoulder and passed through both lungs breaking the far ribs without exiting. That bullet was in one piece, retaining 85% of it’s original 350 grains. Expansion ranged from .620 to .744 inches. The “insurance” bullets both separated, copper jacket from the lead core. Glad I didn’t hit one of the big shoulder bones. Great cartridge and rifle but someone needs to load a bonded bullet, ideally 400 grains.

We celebrated at dinner and expected the “hard work” to be finished and we would have fun for the remaining eight days of the safari. I wanted a crocodile, lioness, waterbuck, hyena, bushbuck and most of the “usual suspects” on a safari. Also, I wanted to devote some part of each day to bird shooting. There were lot’s of doves plus sand grouse at dusk. The shotgun shells provided by the outfitter were from Zimbabwe. I didn’t know much was still being manufactured there but they worked very well in spite of the shot size being a mix of 5’s and 6’s.

We spent the next three days shooting impala for crocodile bait, hunting plains game and dove and sand grouse shooting. The hunting proved to be very tough. We did not see a lot of plains game and what we did see was very spooky. The outfitter thought the problem was wild dogs moving into the area and harassing the game.

The PH thought it was the drought weakening the game and making them extremely weary. I thought it might have been from poaching and over hunting this season. We saw an impala and ostrich with wire snares around there legs.

On the seventh day, three teams of trackers were looking for lioness tracks. Gerrit received a radio call from one of the trackers saying they had found tracks. Gerrit took us to meet them. Gerrit had been licensed for dangerous game for several years but I would be his first lioness client. He was more excited than me, I thought.

The trackers followed the tracks and I followed the trackers. We came upon the lioness at about 50 yards. I had chambered the 325 grain Hornady cartridge. Up went the shooting sticks and one shot in the shoulder killed the lioness. She was beautiful. Peet Bezuidenhout, the outfitter, estimated her at about 360 pounds.

She was sure big to me. The bullet retained 77% of it’s weight and expanded to .700 inch.

I wanted a waterbuck. We had seen some very nice males since the first day but we could never get close enough for a shot. Most of the time they would just run. On the tenth morning we were all disappointed at not having any success on plains game. I had shot some doves earlier that morning and we were moving towards camp when Joe, Gerrit’s tracker, spotted a nice waterbuck. We stopped, got out of the Land Cruiser and Gerrit said hurry and run. The waterbuck was moving down a ravine and would soon be out of sight. Gerrit put up the sticks and said shoot. I shot just as the waterbuck was moving behind a tree. No one could tell if I had hit or missed. When we arrived at the spot where we had last seen the waterbuck there wasn’t blood or any sign of a hit. The three trackers started following the tracks. After about 25 yards Gerrit and I stopped to let the trackers work when I glanced down and saw a few drops of blood. The trackers followed the blood and found my waterbuck, dead about 50 yards away. My bullet had hit something, probably a small tree branch but did not deflect and made a large entry wound in the chest.

I had shot two impala for crocodile bait. A big croc ate both impala during the hunt but we only saw it once and Gerrit thought it would be at least 13 feet long. The trackers put up a blind and we used it one morning but the croc never came. We were seeing crocodile and hippo everyday during the safari so the outfitter was pretty sure I could take one late in the safari, if I had to, from a boat. I would not be able to be very selective, size wise, though on a crocodile on the last day. This was OK with me since I had not yet taken a crocodile on any of my previous safaris. We left camp in the boat late in the afternoon of the last day. We found some crocodiles sunning on the bank very close to the river. I was very nervous since I knew one shot would have to kill the crocodile or it would be in the river and lost. Gerrit was going to back me up with his 375 H&H and the outfitter was ready with his 416. My shot hit the crocodile about 2 inches behind the “smile” and his body did the “crocodile rock” but never moved. No backup required! We did photos and were off to try for a nice kudu we had tracked the afternoon before. Kudu had not been on my “wish list” but since game had been so scarce and a man can never too many kudu, I would take one if I had an opportunity.

Peet had joined us for the crocodile hunt so was with us as we drove to the area where the trackers had seen the kudu the previous afternoon. The only animal we saw in abundance was Nyala. Nice Nyala were everywhere. Murphy’s law when you are not hunting Nyala. I had not taken one before and had never had interest in a Nyala. Both Peet and Gerrit had been trying to get me to try for one most of the safari. Peet saw one about 5 pm and said I should try for it. Gerrit said the best one had his rump to us. I had a lot of confidence in the big 450 bullet and for the first time did a “Texas heart shot”. The nyala dropped where it stood. Again, Gerrit was surprised when I shot so quickly. He was only identifying the best nyala and I thought he was ready for me to shoot. A beautiful animal and I’m glad I took the opportunity Peet offered.

This was a hard safari because of how difficult plains game was to come by and how spooky the game we saw was. Offsetting this was how satisfying each animal taken was. The PH, outfitter, trackers and camp staff were wonderful. The camp was luxurious, beautiful and comfortable. Food was gourmet. My favorite was crème brulee on three nights. Dove shooting almost everyday was a nice distraction. I also shot francolin, sand grouse and guinea fowl. Delta flights were on time and guns and luggage arrived in good order. All in all a good safari with a fun and unique rifle and cartridge that performed well.

Just got back from Tanzania where I hunted in our Lolkisale Area all of July. I had the privilege of hunting with two of my clients during this time and we had a great time taking some great trophies. I will NOT post all of the pictures from the entire month, but will post a lot of the ones that I thought were the best.

Gilberto and myself with a fantastic Lion

Another picture of Gilberto’s Lion

Here a couple of other male Lion’s we had on bait.

Gilberto’s nice 43″ Dugga Boy

Steve Bass and myself with his 2nd day Leopard

Here are few other Leopards on bait in July.

Here is Steve and myself with his Elephant that went 58 pounds with 6’1″ Tusks

Steve with an excellent Steinbuck

Steve with his Grants

Chantelle my wife with Masai and children at one of our school projects.

Steve with a monster 15″ Warthog.

Steve with a very nice 30″ Lesser Kudu

Steve with a pair of Zebra.

Just to show that Lions do get up into trees

Hunting Vehicle

Gilberto with his Cokes Hartebeest

Leopard cub on bait