Brent is another fellow Pope and Young Measurer from the San Diego area.  His infectious good humor brings life to what ever gathering he is at.  But when it comes to getting down to hunting Brent is all business.  Even though he hunts ducks (aka sky rats) he hasn’t lost his predatory prowess with a stick and string.  The framing contractor has made his bones with numerous hogs at Tejon Ranch and elk and deer hunts in the West. 

Brent got another nickname while on Safari…Bok Baard.  More about that later..

Brent’s note back to folks at home starts out…

I’m bringing home six animals. Five animals taken with five arrows. None of the first five went more than 40-60 yards.

On with the photos…

Brent’s Zebra that was a big team effort on Day Seven of his trip.

A duiker that has 2 1/2 inch bases and 4 inch horns. (Kinda reminds me of my first blacktail) 

a Hartebeest in the morning from the same blind as the Warthog later on day five .

Brent got this impala on Day Four.  It was the only shooter he saw in nine days. 

Day 2 is a story best told by Brent.  I can’t relate it in the same fashion as he can…

We went to a different ranch about 80 miles away. Animals were hitting the waterhole immediately. These critters consisted of warthogs, kudu cows and calves, nyala cows and calves, vervet monkeys, and eland, no shooters. The day was flying by. This stand was a raised platform built on four 5″ round posts. It was huge, maybe 10′x10′ and draped in netting. I was watching the eland, trying to decide if the bull was a shooter. I couldn’t remember all the criteria for identifying a mature bull for a dozen different species. I decided to pass on the eland bull as I really wanted a kudu and a gemsbok …

 In a split second the eland bolted. I could hear something that was big walking into the waterhole. I cautiously peeked out the observation window and was blown away to see a 2000 lb cape buffalo walking in, followed by another. Two monster bulls, dugaboys came into the waterhole and totally blew my mind. After about two hours of the cape buffalo hanging out and preventing any other critters from coming around, I made a call on the radio.

I asked the guide if I should spook the buffalo so they would leave. The guide’s response was that I should NOT do that because the buff might attack me. He said that they would be there just now to sort things out. Well, the buff didn’t appreciate the noise from the radio. They walked straight to my hide and looked up at me like I owed them money. Then, the biggest bull started thrashing a tree that slammed back and forth into my hide. Then, both buff started ramming the posts that held up my blind.

I was trippin’. This was the most exhilirating experience I have ever had. They rammed, slammed and beat those posts so hard that I was standing up trying to keep my balance. I was thinking that this might be the big one. I was planning for the blind to come down hard. I was locating trees that I might scramble to and climb for my life. I thought about shooting arrows into the posts so that I would have something to hang on to if I had to glue myself to a remaining post. Finally, the truck showed up and they rammed and head slammed the buff out of the way. Then, they told me that they had to offload a kudu and would return just now. They drove away.

The buff came right back and started rockin’ the blind again. After about five minutes, they stopped and went back to the waterhole. I was alive! Seriously, I was more alive then I had ever been.

Then, out of the who knows where, a dozen wildebeest came into drink. I picked out the biggest bull, and focused on him. I attached my release, stood up, drew on the big bull and waited for a shot. They were all squeezed in tight to the water. No shot. I let down. Finally, they started to spread out and I drew again. The big bull had the biggest bosses, was wider than his ears, and looked a whole lot bigger than the others. I placed my 20 on his shoulder and took a breath and squeezed slow. I drilled him perfect. He went 50 yds and collapsed. Whew! What a day. Taking photos of this beest was scary as the buff were only a 70 yds away. One guy stood guard with a .375. My first critter was down.

 

After reading about the adventures of my fellow Pope and Young Measurers I stand in awe, at what they experienced in a 10 day safari.   Both Nate and Brent are hard working, self employed individuals who had to save for quite some time to make this trip.  But to see, hear, and read the excitement that both of these hunters only fuels my fire more, whether it is local blacktail or a far flung destination, because these are guys like me, with businesses and families and work obligations.  If they can do it then I can, and you can too!

PS>  The Bok Baard story as told by Nate Treadwell:

Since we had 2 Brent’s the PH’s needed to keep them straight. They started calling Brent, Bok Baard. That means billy goat, due to his scruffy little goatee.