By Jack Orloff, Associate Editor

Originally published in the 2025 March/April issue of Safari Magazine.

Ever so slowly, I shouldered the Weatherby Model 307 and centered the scope’s reticle on the buck’s vitals. I had been sitting for the past five days, from dawn until dusk, waiting for an opportunity that had not come easily.

After thousands of miles of travel in the air, a clumsy Canadian border guard and bumpy rides on the back of a side-by-side to my blind every morning, would my scope still be on when it mattered most?

Many hunters have accidentally bumped or dropped the rifle scope and have had that dreaded feeling of uncertainty.

Years ago, I was on a whitetail hunt in North Carolina. While getting into the tree stand, I accidentally hit my rifle scope on the ladder. An hour later, a big buck walked out at 200 yards. I felt good about the shot, but when I pulled the trigger, the deer took off without a scratch.

Later, I found that bumping the rifle had adjusted my scope just a hair, which caused me to shoot a few inches high.

“Durability is important to us because you never know when that once-in-a-lifetime hunt might happen,” said John Fink, Trijicon’s product manager of magnified optics. “This could happen on a deer hunt near home or that dream hunt you have planned for years. Your scope must perform at the moment of truth.”

In the case of a dangerous game hunt, your life or the lives of others might depend on the scope doing its job.

“We do everything we can during the design and development phase to ensure you can count on your scope under any circumstance,” said Fink.

Trijicon’s scopes are designed and engineered to withstand extreme hunting conditions. All optics undergo rigorous testing during the design and development process and are tested to military standards and protocols.

Some of those tests include thermal shock testing, where scopes are held for 24 hours in cold and hot storage. The optic is then pulled from the freezer or oven and brought to ambient temperature. This simulates going from hunting in freezing conditions to taking the scope into a heated cabin or going from a vehicle in the desert into an air-conditioned building. In both scenarios, the contraction and expansion of the materials will expose leaks or glass cracking issues.

Then, there is immersion testing, where optics must pass 30 minutes at a depth of 10 feet with no water intrusion.

Next, a recoil simulator where scopes are subjected to 5,000 rounds from a SCAR-H, a known scope-wrecker.

After that, a vibration test simulates vibrations and abuse that might be encountered bouncing around in a pick-up truck, Humvee or ATV.

Finally, the company produces a drop test where scopes mounted on rifles are dropped at various heights onto different materials like hard-packed soil, plywood and concrete.

The company’s commitment to durability can be traced back to its military roots, said Fink, who was on the hunt with me.

The Trijicon Credo HX 2.5-15×42 is housed in 6061 aircraft grade aluminum. All glass is of the highest quality and inspected for inclusions or imperfections.

“We hold all of our optics to the same standard,” he said. “We know when we are building scopes for a military contract, we also sell those same scopes, with different external markings, into the commercial market. We know that optics sold to the commercial market are purchased by soldiers and can end up in combat. We assume that no matter the distribution channel, someone’s life might depend on the optic performing in the time of need.”

Fink said that Trijicon uses the best quality materials that will survive and still perform.

“This includes the best seals that will not allow any nitrogen to escape or moisture to enter,” he said. “You can rest assured that zero will be maintained throughout the hunting season despite changing weather conditions, inadvertent drops or other heavy use.”

I used Trijicon’s Credo HX 2.5-15×42 on the whitetail hunt in Canada. I traveled over 1,800 miles from Texas to northern Saskatchewan but first had to connect in Minneapolis and then Calgary.

When I arrived in Calgary, I had to clear customs. The officers there were friendly and polite but fascinated with my rifle. One officer even took the rifle out of the hard case to get a better look before aggressively placing it back, hitting my scope on the side of the case.

This was not how I wanted to start my trip, with the feeling of uncertainty that my scope would now not perform.

After a full day of travel, we finally arrived at Safari River Outfitters in Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan. We were greeted by the manager, and went right to the range to ensure our rifles were correctly sighted in.

After three quick shots at the target, about 100 yards away, I was not fully confident I was on. But the manager, who was spotting for me, said everything looked good.

“You’re on target,” he said. And then, “Next guy up!”

Each morning before light, the guides would drive us in a side-by-side to our ground blinds. Some of these blinds were far, and the rides were long and considerably bumpy.

My rifle was placed in the back of the vehicle in a soft case. After each bump or rough turn, I would wince, knowing my rifle might be bouncing around back there like a beach ball. The rides were long, so I wasn’t able to hold it in the cab with me the whole time.

My ground blind was located in a small clearing in the woods. I would sit for the next five days from dawn until dusk, waiting for an opportunity at a Saskatchewan whitetail.

Although slow at times, each sit was filled with excitement. On Day 2, two bucks came in. I scanned them thoroughly but decided to pass as they were not the age-class buck I was after.

As they fed, occasionally looking up to ensure the coast was clear, the two bucks began to spar just 70 yards from me. The sounds of them grunting and twigs breaking as they battled erupted the forest. After 20 minutes, they drifted off, seeming to have enough of each other. But soon after that, one of them appeared again, showcasing a battle wound of a large gash under his eye.

You don’t see that every day!

On Day 2, the author watched two bucks spar just 70 yards from him. “After 20 minutes, they drifted off, seeming to have enough of each other. But soon after that, one of them appeared again, showcasing a battle wound of a large gash under his eye,” he wrote

Most of the other hunters had already tagged out during the first few days. Hunting buddy Eddie Stevenson, also of Trijicon, killed a fine buck that scored approximately 150 and weighed a whopping 290 pounds.

But I had yet to see a shooter buck.

On Day 5, the last day of the trip, after sitting for 11 hours each day. It was now or never.

My guide Ashton had moved me to a different location closer to camp, hoping that a buck would finally show. I was hopeful that my luck would change, and it sure did.

Around noon on the last day, a doe made an appearance. I could tell she was anxious, and she didn’t stay long.

Suddenly, I noticed movement in the woods and could faintly see antlers moving through the trees. It was a buck, and he was on her scent!

As I shouldered my rifle, I couldn’t help but think about what my scope had gone through the past few days. I took a deep breath, exhaled and slowly squeezed the trigger.

As the shot rang out, I watched the buck flinch and then take off into the woods out of sight.

The unknown was torture. I waited for Ashton to arrive to begin the tracking process.

When he did arrive, we found the buck 35 yards away. I had made a great shot right through the boiler room.

Jack Orloff admires his first Saskatchewan whitetail buck. These deer are big-bodied and display beautiful chocolate color antlers.

My first Saskatchewan whitetail weighed in at 245 pounds. This buck would likely not get much of a bigger rack due to its genetics and age. It was the perfect buck.

Traveling while hunting or even shooting in your back 40, we know that anything can and will go wrong. It’s good to know that companies like Trijicon work to ensure the utmost performance and durability when it matters most. It gives us hunters one less thing to worry about.

The Rifle: Weatherby Alpine CT

The Weatherby Model 307 Alpine CT is for hunters who want a light, accurate bolt-action rifle that they can customize.

Weatherby’s Model 307 action is a 2-lug, fully cylindrical action. It complements the historic Mark V and Vanguard lineups yet is compatible with many modern aftermarket accessories, such as stocks, triggers, rails and mounts.

Weatherby teamed up with the carbon-fiber experts at Peak 44 to make this rifle ultra-light for mountain hunters. Alpine CT’s will have the option of Peak 44 Bastion stocks, which weigh just 24 ounces. Peak 44 puts a proprietary 3D-Hex recoil pad on that stock.

The barrel on the Alpine CT is a BSF carbon barrel, which is generally shorter than most other Weatherby barrels but is highly accurate. The lightest configuration will start at 6 pounds. The rifle is offered in 13 chamberings from 240 Weatherby to 300 Weatherby, including 300 PRC.

Weatherby also adds its directional self-timing brake. This lets the shooter angle the direction of expelled gases emitted during the shot to reduce muzzle jump — an extremely effective way to increase accuracy.

Although I was not mountain hunting and was in a ground blind most of the time, I was very pleased with how light the rifle was and how easy it was to shoulder quickly.

The muzzle brake and 3D-Hex recoil pad made the recoil almost unnoticeable.

— ­Jack Orloff

The Cartridge: 6.5 WBY RPM

The 6.5 Weatherby Rebated Precision Magnum, or RPM, is based on a lengthened version of the existing .284 Winchester. The cartridge has a rebated rim, making it compatible with standard .30-06 bolt faces and reloading equipment.

Basically, you don’t need a heavy magnum action to use this magnum cartridge. The large body diameter, low body taper and 35-degree shoulder mean that the case capacity is greatly increased and that leads to higher velocities.

The 6.5mm is highly efficient with less drop and wind deflection than many heavier calibers.

Weatherby wanted to create a round that would fit in their standard 6 Lug Mark V rifle action yet would take advantage of the full cartridge length that action is capable of chambering.

The post Traveling Hunters Need Durable Riflescopes appeared first on Safari Club.

By Bob Bell

Originally published in the 2025 January-February issue of Safari Magazine.

I was talking with my college buddy George Conniff about returning to Argentina to shoot the bird of peace, also called doves. He noted he was going back to Africa and inquired if I wanted to go along. I gave it considerable thought for about 30 seconds. Since you get to shoot bigger stuff in Africa, I said “Heck yes.”

After a three-hour flight from Anchorage to Seattle, then a soul crushing 12-hour flight to Qatar, I arrived at Doha airport semi-conscious after 15 hours of flying. I picked up my bags near gate 1. My departure gate was 153. In my sleep deprived stupor, I set off down the corridor, pulling my roller bag with one duffle lashed to it and the other duffel on my back. This was the longest and most physically demanding slog of the entire trip. I arrived at the gate exhausted and in a foul mood as I tend to be when I experience lack of sleep, hunger and physical exertion at the same time. To top it off I learned it is very difficult to get a cocktail in Qatar.

College buddies George Conniff, left, and Bob Bell, center, hunted with PH Clayton in South Africa. Conniff took a fine Vaal rhebok among other trophies.

George showed up looking quite relaxed. I asked him how he made the long trek with no apparent effort. He informed me there was a train that takes you between the gates and inquired as why I didn’t avail myself of that convenience. I suppressed my first instinct to kill or seriously maim him, took a deep breath and smiled. Six years in elected public office had taught me how to hide nefarious thoughts. The next leg was six more hours to Jo-burg.

George is a smart guy, but for some reason he had decided to bring his own gun. Well, that seldom works out. We soon found ourselves trying to find where the gun was and how to get it cleared before our flight to Port Elizabeth. It took an hour to get it cleared. We made it to the gate with 30 seconds to spare and a stress level through the roof.

As we boarded a 90-passenger Embraer jet, I gave a copy of my first book to the pilot. Just before takeoff he came to ask me if I wanted to sit in the jump seat for the trip. I accepted instantly. Once we were airborne, they went on autopilot, and we told Alaskan and South African stories, some of which were true, all the way to Port Elizabeth.

When we deplaned, the John X Safari people were there to collect us and four hunters from Texas who were also on the plane. Alaska is awash with Texas jokes, so this gave me an opportunity to pull out my inventory. By the end of the four-hour drive to the Woodlands lodge, near Grahamstown, I had told almost half of my jokes. They only had one Alaska joke. I had brought copies of three of my books and managed to sell one to each of them. I told them that a friend of mine had been arrested for smuggling books into Texas.

We arrived at the main lodge as hollowed out shells of ourselves. We hooked up with the rest of our party comprised of Paul Latchford and Mike and Janie Jarvis, had a quick dinner and went to bed.

The next morning, we were introduced to our guides. Clayton was assigned to me. He must have gotten the short straw. He is a pleasant young man as is his tracker, Bulelani. They were a great team. George and I then made the four-hour trip to a satellite lodge. I wanted to get a gemsbok, warthog and sable. George was looking for a kudu. That afternoon we drove up to some high ground. There was game everywhere we looked, but nothing we wanted.

The following day we went to a different property where we saw five or six gemsboks. One was a shooter. We scrambled up and down rocky hills and pushed through thorn bushes to get within 300 yards. I couldn’t get any closer without getting busted, so, I setup to make a long shot with an unfamiliar rifle. We were on a steep hillside, making it difficult to get a good steady sight picture. Clayton said to shoot him in the center of the shoulder. I was just hoping to hit him anywhere. He dropped dead at the shot. Naturally, I took full credit for a superb shot, not a lucky one. I supervised Clayton and Bulelani as they packed him up a steep rocky slope to the truck.

For the next three days we looked for a warthog for me and a kudu for George. We did a couple of stalks, but couldn’t close the deal due to wind shifts, terrain issues or just incompetence on our part. It was obvious the guides were not only well trained in hunting skills, but also in guiding old farts. The next day George shot a lifetime kudu.

Also the next day, we spotted a very nice pig way down in a deep valley with lots of brush and steep rocky slopes.

“We are going to go get that pig even if I have to carry you down there,” said Clayton.

This seemed to indicate he thought it was a good pig and that he was not entirely confident of my 80-year-old body’s ability to make the stalk. He was right on the first assumption and wrong on the second.

The stalk took well over an hour, and again it was a 300-yard shot. I guess John X has a thing about 300-yard shots. I managed to get my chronologically gifted body wedged between some rocks and a thorn bush to get a steady hold and promptly dispatched the critter.

The next day, we traveled up into the mountains so George could try for a vaal rhebok. You can only hunt these things in this part of the world. George made a really fine shot, 300 yards, of course. This fine shot was after eight not-so-fine shots. I had managed to miss a mountain reed buck twice that day, so marksmanship was not a subject of conversation.

The following morning, we set out in search of a sable. It was a fantastic day. We saw Cape buffalo, kudu, wildebeest, ostrich, giraffe and several other critters — also lots of sable. Unfortunately, nothing that met my high standards, which were defined for me by Clayton. We spent the afternoon chasing mountain reed bucks, which had somehow been added to my list. I had four opportunities but was out maneuvered or outsmarted every time.

We finally spotted a buck at the bottom of a 100-foot cliff. He neglected to look up which was a fatal mistake. There was some doubt as to who it could be fatal for. I had to stand on the very edge of the rim to shoot straight down, a very precarious position. Mountain reed bucks are not normally classified as dangerous game, but in this situation this guy was. The shot was successful, as was my balance, so it worked out well for me, not so much for the reed buck.

Returning to the lodge, we noticed a Cape buffalo bull with one horn broken off. This left him with an infected and likely painful stub. That was probably why he instantly charged the truck. Clayton hit the gas to avoid an unpleasant confrontation. This action almost threw Bulelani out of the truck bed, which would have had some negative impacts on his wellbeing due to a hard landing on the road and a seriously cranky buffalo.

It was time to go sable hunting again. After looking over several bulls, all of which seemed exceptional to me, we found one that met my and Clayton’s expectations. We made a stalk and, to Clayton’s astonishment, I managed to put a round through his boiler room, as he ran past us. They call the sable the “prince of the plains” for a good reason. What a regal and beautiful animal.

In the morning all five of us got in the van for a five-hour drive to the Tam Safari ranch that had rhinos and lions, critters you don’t find in a petting zoo.

It was a fun day looking at rhinos. After several stalks, Mike managed to get a dart into a bull’s posterior. When the dart hit, the critter ran right through a three-foot-high stone fence, sending rocks flying in all directions. A very impressive sight. When the rhino went to sleep, we all got pictures. The vet flew in with his helicopter, took samples and administered the antidote.

“I would suggest you get in your truck because when he wakes up he will not be in a good mood,” he said.

The 6,000-pound critter got up, gave us a less than friendly look and wandered off.

PH Clayton told author Bob Bell to shoot the gemsbok in the center of the shoulder. “I was just hoping to hit him anywhere,” said Bell. “He dropped dead at the shot. Naturally, I took full credit for a superb shot not a lucky one.”

I had tagged out and was not sure what to do for the next three days. As I am wont to do, I came up with a marginally good idea. Let’s go after a spurwing goose. They are the largest waterfowl in the world. We then built a blind. Clayton and Bulelani did the work, I supervised.

We arrived before dawn and settled into the blind. A pair of spurwings flew past but too far out and landed on a hill about 150 yards away. They stayed there all day. In the meantime, a flock of guinea hens landed all around us and hung out for an hour. Egyptian geese came and went. So, we had a nice day of bird watching, but no bird shooting.

The next day George joined us in the blind. Again, the spurwings landed on the hill out of range. Around 2 p.m. Clayton gently woke us as we snoozed in our chairs to tell us the spurwings were walking down the hill. We couldn’t see out of the blind, but Clayton could so we waited for him to raise the camo net. What we didn’t realize was the geese were standing 10 feet in front of us. When Clayton raised the camo, George and I were stunned at the sight of the two huge birds. We froze as the birds flushed. We both missed as they flew away. A less than stellar performance on our part. Buck fever at age 80 is quite rare, but that was a sight we will never forget.

So, we came to the last day. We had all the animals we came after, and a few more. Clayton suggested we go out and look around to see if anything would interest us. We were looking over a river and Clayton was looking through the spotting scope. Suddenly, he got very animated.

“There is a really big bushbuck on the other side of the river,” he said. “This is an opportunity to get a real trophy.”

“OK, let’s do this,” I said.

It was a, yes, 300-yard shot, and I hit him hard. The bushbuck darted into the bushes as bushbucks do, hence the name. There are no bridges across this river, so it would be necessary for someone to cross the river to retrieve the bushbuck. I nominated Clayton, due to his youth and desire for a good tip. It worked out fine. Clayton, Bulelani and the dogs got wet, and I got the bushbuck.

It was time for the four-hour drive to Port Elizabeth and the long flight back to Alaska. This time there was an 11-hour layover in Jo-berg to make it worse than the flight down.

I must close by praising John X Safaris for an excellent experience, wonderful people, great facilities, fantastic hunting and spectacular scenery. I will be back.

Bob Bell, bbell@frbcmh.com, has lived in Alaska for 55 years. He is an engineer and author with four books on outdoor humor.

The post Alaska To Africa Is Worth Every Mile appeared first on Safari Club.

By John Geiger

Shooting a suppressed rifle with a short barrel is the latest trend in the U.S.

But unfortunately, velocity drops with every inch taken off a barrel.

According to one of the largest ammo companies in the U.S., Federal Premium, you can now have your cake and eat it, too.

Federal Premium is loading five bullets into the new 7mm Backcountry, although that number is expected to grow. They are 155- and 170-grain Federal Premium Terminal Ascent, 195-grain Federal Premium Berger Elite Hunter, 168-grain Federal Premium Barnes LRX Copper and 175-grain Federal Fusion Tipped, shown here.

The company’s engineers have developed a new cartridge case that can sustain much higher case pressures than we’re used to. That means, with this new cartridge — 7mm Backcountry — you can get long-barrel speed even in a short barrel.

Suddenly, one of the biggest obstacles to adopting a suppressor — the extra length it tacks onto the barrel — is no longer an issue.

This short-barrel trend is primed to explode.

“This cartridge is a game-changer for guides and hunters like me,” said West Texas and New Mexico guide Josh Coffey. “We went with short barrels with suppressors a few years ago. We were done with pulling long barrel suppressors out of our packs in the mountains or getting in and out of trucks with them. We like our rifles light and short. Now we don’t have to give up velocity.”

On a recent mule deer hunt in New Mexico, I carried a shorter-barrel rifle with a suppressor and shot the new 7mm Backcountry ammo.

Much of the hunt consisted of driving ranch roads at High West Outfitter’s H-Y Ranch west of Silver City. I was constantly getting out of the truck with my rifle and glassing distant herds.

I was using a Gunwerks Magnus with a 20-inch barrel and 5 ½-inch Silencer Central Banish Backcountry suppressor. In total, the rifle was 44 ½ inches long from recoil pad to the tip of the suppressor. It was a very manageable package.

Right away, I noticed how much better a shorter barrel and suppressor was when sliding in and out of the truck without clanking anything or breaking a window. I was hooked on the short barrel.

Federal Premium loads five types of bullets into this new premium-quality, alloy-steel cartridge. John Geiger, SAFARI Magazine managing editor, used 7mm Backcountry with a 175-grain Fusion Tipped bullet to stop this deer in its tracks during a recent hunt in New Mexico.

At the range, before the hunt, I shot sub-MOA groups at 100 yards from the bench and from the bipod. I used the Revic ballistic app to set my distances and trued my info at 300 yards. With a Garmin Xero C1 Pro chronograph, I got three-shot velocities of 2,966, 2,963 and 2,968 fps using Federal Fusion Tipped bullets. In addition to that bullet, Federal is also loading super-fast 155- and 170-grain Federal Premium Terminal Ascent, 195-grain Federal Premium Berger Elite Hunter and 168-grain Federal Premium Barnes LRX Copper bullets.

The Revic elevation turret was inscribed with MOA clicks. With the ballistic app, I could enter the distance, make a wind call and be on target beyond 600 yards. I was not planning on shooting at an animal at that distance, but I knew my setup and was capable of doing so. I had shot MOA groups out to 1,200 yards with a Magnus in the past, so my confidence was high.

The turret also had a built-in Plan B.

If I chose, I could instead dial to the yardage — rather than MOA — for a quicker shot. The custom turret was engraved with yardage stops specifically for this rifle and bullet. I tested the yardage turret as well as the MOA elevation turret out to 500 yards. They were both highly accurate.

The eventual shot at the mature mule deer on Day 3 was a quick setup. It was not a rushed shot but a shot that had to be taken within a short window of time. The buck was feeding and moving up a hill, getting farther away. It was about to crest the summit, be sky-lined and then out of sight.

Coffey gave me the distance and a wind call. With the big deer on the move, I chose to dial to the yardage rather than check the app for a MOA setting. I pulled the trigger during my respiratory pause. At 460 yards, the shot was right on. The big muley stopped in his tracks, looked up to heaven and tumbled 20 yards back down the hill where he lay dead. The bullet had pushed through the quartering-away deer from the back of the left lung through the front of the right lung.

After the shot, I wondered if I would have had the time to input the yardage on the app, get behind the scope, get a wind call and fire before this trophy was gone. Maybe, but it was nice to have that yardage option at hand.

We travel many miles for our hunts, practice at the range, get the best gear we can and hunt hard in all kinds of weather for a shot at a game animal. Hunting can be a very technical pursuit if we let it.

I watched the downed deer in the scope more than a quarter mile away. Emotion, buried away during several days of non-stop hunting, suddenly hit me hard in the form of gratitude. The sky then seemed bluer. The mountains felt closer, the wind fresher, and life felt much fuller. I turned to look at my guide, who, like a rock, had walked with me through this process from Day 1.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You bet,” said Coffey. “Nice shot.”

We sat there for a few minutes. Saying nothing because nothing needed to be said.

What other adventure besides hunting creates friendships and forges mutual respect so quickly? I’ve yet to find it.

Federal Premium’s new 7mm Backcountry is designed for hunters who want to shoot suppressed with short barrels at high velocities. Gunwerks is chambering its Magnus in 7mm Backcountry. The shorter 20-inch barrel paired perfectly with a Silencer Central Banish Backcountry and Revic scope.

SECRET SAUCE

It’s not the bullet that gives this package such a boost in speed. And it’s not a new propellant mix. Instead, it’s the actual material that Federal uses to make the cartridge hull itself.

This 7mm Backcountry cartridge is a result of seven years of development.

In 2017, the U.S. military came to the company because it wanted better ammo performance.

“We tested many materials at higher pressures,” said Federal engineer Brad Abramowski.

Abramowski’s team landed on a very specific, patented steel alloy. Wait, Steel? Shooters the world over are all too familiar with common steel cases. They’re made to be cheap, throwaway-range ammo. They corrode and often can’t be reloaded.

“This alloy is very different,” said Abramowski.

It’s patented, so they’re not giving away the formula, but they call it Peak Alloy and it’s more closely related to the types used in bank safes, race cars and nuclear reactors.

This alloy allows Federal to safely increase cartridge pressures, boosting velocities to magnum levels through a shorter barrel without more recoil.

Brass is usually loaded to a ceiling of 65,000 psi. Peak Alloy is safely loaded to 80,000 psi. In practical terms, that translates into 3,000 fps velocities with a 170-grain bullet out of the 20-inch barrel. During our hunt, another hunter had a custom Horizon rifle with a very short 16.25-inch barrel that shot an impressive 2,880 fps.

John Radzwilla of Hook & Barrel magazine used a 16.25-inch barreled Horizon rifle in 7mm Backcountry to take this old mule deer on a hunt in New Mexico recently. The short-barreled rifle sent a 175-grain Fusion Tipped bullet at 2,880 fps.

7mm PRC and MAGNIFICENT 7s

Of all the hunting calibers out there, Federal picked 7mm for its new cartridge.

“Choosing 7mm made the most sense compared to other calibers,” said Mike Holm, Federal’s director of centerfire ammo.

Hunters know that the 7mm, .284-inch bullets hit a sweet spot of higher ballistic coefficients compared to the 30’s or 6.5’s. There are many proven 7mm bullets on the market that are heavy for caliber with excellent BCs.

And in the 7mm-caliber world, it’s no secret that now, one in particular is king: 7mm PRC.

“We set out to beat it, and we did that,” said Holm. “Due to its safe higher-chamber-pressures, a 7mm Backcountry 170-grain Terminal Ascent shot through a 24-inch barrel gives you a muzzle velocity of around 3,150 fps. A 7mm PRC with the same bullet generates about 2,950 fps. Through a 20-inch barrel, 7mm Backcountry shoots approximately 3,000 fps while the 7mm PRC is only 2,850 fps.”

You might expect the recoil to jump up along with the velocity. But the higher pressures promote a better burn, mitigating the kick.

The jury is out on reloading for now. While steel is not as malleable as brass, these cartridges can still be reloaded several times, said Abramowski.

The new cartridges are available now, so we’ll soon hear if the case is a hit with the do-it-yourself reload crowd.

Meanwhile, hunters can use factory ammo long on speed with their suppressed, short-barrel rifles.

Hunters and guides were strangers just a few days ago. From left, hunter J.J. Reich of Federal Premium, author John Geiger, engineer Brad Abramowski and guide Josh Coffey enjoy each other’s company and check out the unique characteristics of the deer’s rack.

To cover the immense High West Outfitter ranch in southwestern New Mexico, hunters were constantly getting in and out of a Tacoma to glass far-off herds of mule deer in search of mature bucks of a certain age class. In the past, they would have had long barrels and a long suppressor. Now, they had a maximum of 20-inch barrels with 5 1/2-inch-long Silencer Central Banish suppressors.

Packing out a mule deer with a shorter-barreled rifle is a dream: you’re not catching the muzzle on trees, and the rifle doesn’t stick out of the gun pocket awkwardly.

Author John Geiger looks southwest toward Arizona and Mexico as he packs out a mule deer from the foothills of the Gila Mountains near Silver City, New Mexico.

Horned lizards, also called horntoads, are common in this part of the country. Their excellent camouflage is their best defense.

High West Outfitters hunts many ranches around the U.S. Southwest, including H-Y in the heart of the Gilas.

Federal Premium’s new 7mm Backcountry is designed for hunters who want to shoot suppressed with short barrels at high velocities. Gunwerks is chambering its Magnus in 7mm Backcountry. The shorter 20-inch barrel paired perfectly with a Silencer Central Banish Backcountry and Revic scope.

What’s Next?

A good test of how popular a new cartridge will be is to look at how many rifle companies are investing in it and chambering for it. More than a dozen of the best companies have lined up to offer their rifles in 7mm Backcountry in 2025 and beyond. That’s a very good sign. Here are just a few.

Christensen Arms

Gunwerks

Seekins Precision

Fierce Arms

AllTerra Arms

Savage Arms

Weatherby

Geissele Automatics

Proof Research

Horizon Firearms

Pure Precision

The post New Federal 7mm Cartridge Made For Suppressed Rifles appeared first on Safari Club.

Originally published in the September/October 2024 Issue of Safari Magazine.

This is the first in a series of SAFARI Magazine articles that explores the biology, behavior, geography and hunting opportunities of the amazing animals in the genus Cervidae. Written by a team of experts at Safari Club International Foundation, these articles will enlighten all hunters to the abounding opportunities to hunt Cervidae — from little muntjac to giant moose. This series starts with the huntable North American deer species. — Editors 

Deer are one of the most numerous game animal species found in the world. Some estimates put deer numbers around 60 million worldwide. 

The Safari Club International Record Book recognizes many deer species and provides a variety of categories. There are 84 distinct listings in the SCI Record Book and 238 different categories of free range, estate and introduced animals. 

SAFARI Magazine Features Editor Craig Boddington explores the most prolific North American deer — the white-tailed deer — in his article on page 100. We’ll pick it up with the other Cervidae on the continent. In future issues, we’ll explore species found elsewhere in the world. 

BLACK-TAILED DEER

Black-tailed deer, or blacktails, are a West Coast mule deer sub-species that utilize cover to the fullest. A black-tailed deer can be distinguished from a mule deer by its tail, metatarsal glands, overall coloration, face and antlers (although their antlers typically have the same forked characteristic). The tail is nearly as long as a mule deer’s but is wider, and it is solid black on top except for a slight white fringe near the bottom and the underside is white. The face is noticeably shorter and darker than a muley’s, and their ears are smaller. The antlers are small, compact and relatively stout for their length, as befits a deer living in thick forest. The top two on our list for hunters are the Columbia and the Sitka.

Columbia Black-tailed Deer

No. 1: 184 3/8, free-range, typical, taken in Washington

Where to hunt Columbia blacktails is often debated. However, most experts agree it is common to find them in coastal areas with wet, temperate climates. They can be seen frequenting edge habitats where the timber meets other landforms like meadows, clear-cuts and brushy slopes. They are found from British Columbia down to California. Seasoned hunters utilize a variety of hunting methods with significant success around glassing from vantage points and utilizing the spot and stalk methods. 

Trophy size can vary. However, the current top SCI Record Book score is 184 3/8 for a typical free-range Columbia deer, which was taken in Washington. Our recommendation is to set your sights on something more reasonable like a 110-inch rack, considered a bronze trophy for rifle and a silver trophy for bow.

The cost for this hunt is in the low-medium range. There are numerous hunting opportunities and professionals. Some blacktail hunters prefer DIY, while others want the probability of bronze, silver or gold trophy and therefore prefer utilizing an outfitter or guide. As trophy expectations increase, so does the cost of the hunt. Some hunters report securing this for $10,000 or less, depending on location and trophy quality.

Sitka Black-tailed Deer

No. 1: 133 2/8, free-range, typical, taken in Alaska

Sitka blacktail hunting is best from the middle of British Columbia up the coast to the Kodiak Archipelagos. This deer may be found as far north as the Kenai Peninsula. However, numbers there are not as plentiful. Like their Columbia cousin, these deer are often associated with coastal areas that are wet and dense with cover.

Sitka black-tailed deer are hunted using a variety of common techniques. Spotting and stalking are common. Some hunters prefer the early August hunt, while others, especially locals, prefer the fall hunt. November hunting is during the rut when both bucks and does will respond to a call resembling the bleat of a fawn. Regardless of the time of year, it is recommended to take a good pair of binoculars. Deer can be seen while glassing from vantage points that provide views of open areas and meadows. 

Trophy size can vary but are commonly on the small size compared to mule deer. The current top SCI Record Book score is 133 2/8 for typical free-range Stika deer, which was taken in Alaska. Our recommendation is to set your sights on a smaller trophy of 80 inches or greater, which is the minimum for an SCI bronze trophy with a rifle, while 72 inches is the minimum trophy for bow. 

The cost for this hunt is in the low-medium range. There are various hunting opportunities and professionals, many of whom cater to the DIY hunter. As with any DIY hunting, don’t set your expectations too high on bagging a trophy unless you have done a lot of scouting or have local help. Self-guided hunts have been reported to be as low as $1,500 per hunter per week. High-end luxury hunting, complete with gourmet chef and professional outfitting, can be over $10,000 per person and often receives the highest rating from hunters. 

Pro tip: Always check with several outfitters or hunt providers to see if there are any other animals you can legally hunt while in the field. Don’t miss a possible opportunity at something you wish you had taken, like a bear, elk, wolf or wolverine.

MULE DEER

Often referred to as muleys or burro, they are the iconic Western state and province deer. However, they also can be found in the central part of the continent. They are considered medium-sized deer and well-built with a thickset body and rather large hooves. The ears are long and wide, resembling those of a mule. The antlers of a mature buck are large and wide. The summer coat is thin and varies in color from tan to rusty red. The rump, belly and inside of the legs are white. The face and throat are whitish, with a black patch on the forehead and a black bar around the chin. The tail is white with a black tip, and sometimes the base of the tail can be brown. The two most common to make our list for hunters to try are the desert and Rocky Mountain mule deer.

Desert Mule Deer

No. 1: 230 4/8, free-range, typical, taken in Sonora

Desert muleys are often in lower elevations. They are slightly smaller than Rocky Mountain muleys and have antlers that are not as heavy or high as their cousins. They are found in habitats that can be considered extremely harsh conditions with high heat, as well as intense cold, meager forage, scarce water, and lack of vegetative cover. Thus it’s “desert” moniker. The deer calls home the extreme southern portion of California, through Arizona and New Mexico, into central Texas and down into Mexico in portions of northern Sonora to northwestern Coahuila.

A combination of glassing and stalking is the norm for this deer. Plan on devoting time to glassing through a quality pair of binoculars from vantage points. Mule deer blend into their surroundings. Look for gray movement, shapes and anything that could be a white rump patch. Once you spot a desert muley, be prepared to stalk while paying attention to the direction of the wind. Mule deer have keen eyesight. Utilize cover in an open desert habitat to gain a successful shot setup. 

Trophy size varies. The current top SCI Record Book score is 230 4/8 for a typical free-range desert muley. That one was taken in Sonora. Our recommendation is to set your sights on something more reasonable, like a 160-inch rack, which is considered a bronze trophy for rifle and a silver trophy for bow. The minimum SCI score for a trophy desert muley to be placed in the record book is 151 for rifle and 140 for bow in the free-range category. 

The cost for this hunt is in the low-mid range, and there are lots of hunting opportunities and professionals. Some of the best hunts are on private ranches, which have limited DIY hunting. If you are looking for a trophy, plan on paying $10,000-$15,000 for a quality buck hunt.

Rocky Mountain Mule Deer

No. 1: 228 5/8, free-range, typical, taken in Utah

Rocky Mountain muleys are found from the north-central part of the southwest, up through the panhandle of Oklahoma, continuing north up through the Canadian provinces and even into the territories. 

A fundamental hunting strategy is to check in with your local wildlife agency. Wildlife managers there can tell you where good bucks are routinely harvested. From there, it is a matter of hunter preference. Bucks like deep cover unless the rut is on. The typical strategy is to set up and glass in the mornings and afternoons while planning on staying out until the last shooting light has faded. Big bucks often don’t move around until dusk, so be patient.

Trophy size for Rocky Mountain mule deer varies. The current top SCI Record Book score is 228 5/8 for a free-range, typical, muley deer taken in Utah. Our recommendation is to set your sights on a smaller trophy of 170 inches or greater. The minimum for an SCI bronze trophy with a rifle is 155, while 138 is the minimum trophy for the bow. 

The cost for this hunt is in the low to mid-range. These hunts are common, and many professionals are available to meet individual hunter needs. Reports indicate that for a decent hunt with a designated guide, hunters are paying $15,000 plus. Some private land hunts are less; however, we advise you to do your research before booking if you are expecting to bring home a trophy. 

Pro tip: Many ranches outside the U.S. offer cull and management bucks of different species, like northern whitetails in Canada or Coues in Mexico, as well as predator population control. Check out the extra available animals before booking.

BROCKET DEER

The brockets are the smallest species of deer found south of the border in Mexico and Central America. Yucatan is a popular destination. They are somewhat similar in appearance to duikers or muntjacs and the SCI Record Book recognizes two huntable species: the red and the gray-brown. There are differences in each of these two deer, so we recommend that you make 100% sure your outfitter knows the differences for each.

Red Brocket

No. 1: 17 2/16, taken in Campeche

Red Brockets are primarily found in the southern part of Mexico and the Yucatan. The key to identifying the red brocket is that it is smaller than its gray cousin and has larger eyes and a lower ridge below its eyes. Their snout is slimmer and elongated. Antler spikes are circular and perfectly straight (not bladed and curved inward like the gray-brown brocket. 

Because the red brockets are jungle dwellers, hunting is often performed from blinds overlooking feed grounds of the amapola tree, which sprouts a pretty flower that the deer devour. The sporting arm of choice for this shy deer is the shotgun because of the dense, close cover and also the elusiveness of the species. 

The red brockets are small, but getting one is a trophy regardless of size. Our current top SCI Record Book score is 17 2/16. Due to size, this deer’s antlers are measured in 16ths of an inch. It was taken in the state of Campeche in Mexico. Our recommendation is to set your sights on a gold standard buck of 8 4/16 or greater. The minimum for an SCI bronze trophy with a rifle is 7, while no minimum trophy for a bow has been recorded. It will be hard to pass up a buck as they are so elusive; however, we recommend not shooting a deer with antlers under 2 inches to give it a chance to grow and contribute its genetics to this species. 

The cost for this hunt is in the low range. Hunters report securing a red hunt for under $10,000, which can come with lodging and meals. Spanish is the primary language in red brocket habitat so going with a professional outfitter is critical to ensure a hunter is set up in the proper hunting spot.

Gray-brown Brocket

No. 1: 24 11/16, taken in Campeche

Gray-brown brockets are also found in the southern part of Mexico and the Yucatan but are much more numerous. It has a larger head than its red cousin, is lighter-colored and more elegantly shaped. The overall color is grayish brown (or brownish gray, and sometimes even reddish), with the head, back of the neck, hindquarters, top of the tail and lower legs a burnished bronze. The ears are larger with antler spikes that are bladed and curved, which is a crucial feature, and not circular and perfectly straight like with red brocket.

Although a forested animal, it is not typically found in the heart of the jungle like the reds but prefers scrub and bush-type covers. The grays are more diurnal and are active at dusk and dawn. Rifles, shotguns and even bows are successful hunting sporting arms. 

These brockets are small but not as small as the reds. Our current top SCI Record Book score is 24 11/16, which was taken in Campeche, Mexico. Our recommendation is to set your sights on a silver standard buck of 12 inches or greater, but at least hold out for a deer with 4 inches of length for each antler. The minimum for an SCI bronze trophy with a rifle is 10, while no minimum trophy for a bow has been recorded. 

The cost for this hunt is in the low range. Hunters report securing a hunt for under $7,500, which can come with lodging and meals. Like a red brocket hunt, Spanish is the primary language, so we recommend going with a professional outfitter to ensure a hunter is set up for success. 

Pro tip: You don’t need to take your shotgun if the outfitter is willing to let you use his. But be absolutely sure to take bug spray for the ants, chiggers, mosquitoes and ticks.

SCIF President Brian Welker, Record Book Manager Aaron Smith, Conservation Program Manager Dan Brooks, Record Book Coordinator Duane Aubuchon and Hunter Information Services Liaison Barbara Crown co-authored this article.

The post Deer Of The World appeared first on Safari Club.

By Craig Boddington

Originally published in the September/October 2024 Issue of Safari Magazine.

The whitetail deer is the world’s most numerous large wild mammal. There are some 35 million in North America alone, ranging from the treeline in Canada to the Panama Canal. 

To many of our 10 million American deer hunters, it doesn’t matter which deer we pursue: The whitetail in our backyard, those with the biggest antlers or those that give us the most challenge or are simply for the freezer. Most, perhaps, all of the above. 

Not all authorities agree, but there are about 38 recognized subspecies of whitetails, as many as 30 within North America. No matter how long you work at it, you can’t hunt them all. Here in the U.S., the tiny Florida Keys whitetail is long protected. There are other races that are not hunted, and the majority below the Panama Canal are not open to sport hunting. They are all species of Odocoileus virginianus, and all look like whitetails: Big, white fluffy tails that flag in alarm and antlers with fighting tines rising vertically from a main beam. All are crafty and cover-loving and a lot of fun to hunt. 

SEPARATING THE HERD

Except for the few isolated races, broad hybrid zones exist between all the subspecies. It makes them tough to tell apart. Thankfully, there’s not much sense in trying. A nice buck is just that and a great prize. However, whitetails are a fine example of Bergmann’s Law: Within a species, the farther from the Equator, the larger individuals grow. It’s a practical matter of heat retention in colder climates.

Although genetics, food and minerals play a major role, the largest whitetails can grow the largest antlers. With intensive management, Texas whitetails belie this a bit, but in general, it’s true. Small whitetails from Florida cannot compete with Canadian giants. Traditionally, hunters’ record books lumped all whitetails together as the “Virginia deer” with one exception: We traditionally separate the Coues deer (O. v. couesi). This is appropriate because this small, gray, desert deer of the Southwest is different in appearance, habitat and habits.

Fine, but its separation was based on a taxonomic mistake. When identified by U.S. Army surgeon and ornithologist Elliott Ladd Coues, it was believed “his” deer was a separate species. Not until the 1920s was the Coues deer recognized as just one of many whitetail races. Love to hunt Coues deer, happy for the distinction, but it never seemed fair that whitetails from the Southeast had to compete with big deer from the northern woods or western Canada.

Our SCI Record Book started with categories for Coues deer, lumping the rest. From the start, our Record Book was intended to be a global reference. At that time in the 1970s, little was known about whitetails south of the U.S., but we did have categories for Mexican and tropical whitetails. As North American chair for our fledgling records, I felt this was inadequate for such a large tribe. With the approval of Committee colleagues, I set out to divide Canadian and U.S. whitetails into regional categories.

Although I studied references and maps, I don’t pretend these divisions were hard science; hybrid zones are huge, and animals don’t care about political boundaries. Still, I think what we came up with was pretty good: Coues, Texas, Southeastern, Midwestern, Northeastern and Northwestern. Naturally, I wanted to hunt all of them someday. To this day, I have not taken a Northeastern whitetail.

To some extent, whitetails have become my Frankenstein monster: The closer I get, the more distant the goal. As knowledge increased, so did whitetail categories. After a long closure, when Oregon’s isolated Columbian whitetail reopened, we added a category. Later, we added a whitetail category on Quebec’s huge Anticosti Island. I hunted there in 2017 and shot a small buck. Tough hunting in the thick forest just about froze my tail off.

More recently, our Records Committee tackled the tough task of separating the several races of Mexican whitetails. The Coues, Carmen Mountain and Texas whitetail all range from the U.S. deep into Mexico. Likewise, the Central American or tropical whitetails (multiple races) range from the Yucatan Peninsula down to the Panama Canal. One of the most enjoyable whitetail hunts I ever had was at Nic Te Ha in Campeche. Hot, tropical and fascinating. Good bucks are often tiny with “two-by-two plus eye guards” at full maturity. My buck weighed maybe 60 pounds. The Florida Keys deer is the smallest whitetail, and I can’t imagine they’d be much smaller!

Fifty years after its inception, our Record Book remains a living system, adjusting as knowledge increases. Aside from desiring completeness and accuracy, part of the impetus for adding Mexican categories is the Thummler Award for taking “all” of the Mexican deer. The idea is to give recognition and place value on it, thus increasing conservation efforts for deer in remote corners of Mexico. Of necessity, the “new” Mexican whitetail categories are regional.

Just before COVID-19, I did a wonderful hunt for the Mexico Central Plateau whitetail. From a scientific standpoint, this category includes two subspecies: O. v. mexicanus in Central Mexico; and O. v. miquihuanensis farther north. Two more “new” whitetails are the Gulf Coast and Pacific Coast whitetail. At this writing, hunting opportunities for outsiders are limited. Give recognition, place value and both conservation and opportunities will follow.

Our SCI Record Book recognizes more than a dozen North American whitetail deer varieties. Few of us will be so driven as to pursue them all. And, since all are whitetails, visual differences are subtle. However, since they’re whitetails, all are crafty, challenging and interesting. Whatever our own backyard deer happens to be, we know them and how to hunt them. With “other” whitetails, part of the fun is seeing and hunting them in different environments. In the U.S., many can be hunted do-it-yourself on public land. And they are deer, not wild sheep. When guided hunts are preferred, most whitetails can be hunted at a modest cost.

STAND HUNTING

Across the huge range of the whitetail deer, terrain and vegetation vary widely. We know how to hunt our backyard deer, but as we venture farther afield for “new” whitetails, it is wise to keep an open mind!

My backyard whitetails are in southeast Kansas —Midwest whitetails, if you will. Since I’m 15 miles from Oklahoma, I suspect my deer are texanus, not the larger Kansas whitetail (O. v. macrourus). No matter, I know how to hunt them today.

When I bought that farm 20 years ago, I only thought I knew how to hunt whitetails. Unlike many, I didn’t grow up hunting whitetails. I’m from Kansas, but we didn’t have a deer season when I was young, so my early deer hunting was farther west. Later, I hunted whitetails in various places: Texas, Montana and Wyoming, western Canada, the Southeast, and Coues in Arizona and Mexico. I even guided for whitetails in eastern Colorado.

My farm isn’t wall-to-wall agriculture with obvious creek bottoms and shelter belts. Instead, it’s climax oak forest on rolling ridges. No glassing vistas, no long-range encounters. The same stuff millions of whitetail hunters deal with and understand. But close-cover whitetail hunting was foreign to me. The first couple of seasons were tough. Over time, I figured out where to put stands and learned what stands were likely to produce under certain conditions.

With thick cover and several inches of crunchy leaf litter, we have no choice but to hunt from stands. At heart, I’m a Western hunter, so that’s not my preference. Like millions of whitetail hunters, we hunt from stands because they work. By now, we’ve taken perhaps 200 bucks and as many does. Every single one from stands.

After a couple of slow days, our hunters often ask about doing drives or still hunting. Well-planned deer drives work, but our farms aren’t big enough. I have no interest in sending our deer to neighbors. As far as still-hunting (stalking), our woods are just too noisy. If we’d ever get a foot of fresh snow, maybe I’d sneak into Bucky’s bedroom and try to surprise him. In the last 20 years, we’ve barely seen a skiff of snow during deer season.

Like it or not, hunting whitetails from stands is sound. The Big Woods adage “he who sits the longest gets the deer” is true. I admire our hunters who can sit all day, but I’d be the first to admit I can’t do it, and I sure don’t demand that our hunters do it. By coming in at midday, we miss midday movement — there’s often more than we think — and also let the deer pattern us: They figure out we smelly humans leave the woods in late morning.

For me, sitting all day, although effective, isn’t much fun. It’s supposed to be fun, so sit as long as you can and then hang in for a few more minutes. I did whitetail hunts in western Canada, where the drill was to get dropped off at a blind before dawn and picked up after dark. The advantage is that there is short daylight, not much more than eight hours. I can do that if I must, but I don’t like it. Especially up there in the bitter cold. I took a couple of nice bucks up there, but never a giant. I don’t think I want one badly enough to do that kind of hunting again. 

In Kansas, we use a mix of treestands and “Texas-style” box blinds on platforms. Both have advantages and disadvantages. An enclosed blind allows more movement (for fidgety folks like me), and they also control scent somewhat. I can sit longer in a blind than I can in an open treestand. Also, I can cheat by taking a book. Just understand: Effective stand hunting is not relaxing. It’s hard work, concentrating and paying attention. If you’re reading or messing with your phone, you’re screwing up, and you’re going to miss seeing deer.

Many of us are nervous about elevation, and some of us have no business climbing ladders, but overall, I think treestands are more effective than blinds. You can hear better, and that’s important in our crunchy leaves, and you will see more. Also, you can shoot in any direction, although you may need to be a contortionist to get turned around. It’s essential to use a safety harness in treestands, and you are exposed, so you must sit still and resist playing on your smartphone.

Treestands are also colder. The temp doesn’t have to be low to get cold sitting still, and the slightest breeze creates wind chill. My friend Conrad Evarts was filming me on a stand that was up on my highest Kansas ridge. I was in a tall single-seat ladder stand, and he was over my left shoulder on a seat. It was 18 degrees, and no deer were moving. The wind was coming up. Neither of us wanted to be the first to quit, but I thought I might freeze. Finally, Conrad leaned down and said, “Boss, I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but if you just let me out of this tree, I’ll make amends.” For stand-hunting, dress warmer than the temperature suggests.

STILL-HUNTING, CALLING, RATTLING

Counter-intuitive, “still-hunting” is not sitting still but moving ever-so-slowly, trying to spot a deer before it spots you. Honest, this is not my strong suit. I’m clumsy and noisy. The odds are with the deer. However, with good snow, the odds improve a bit. A couple of years ago, I was in spike camp in Alaska with a New Yorker, Dave Dressler. He spun tales of still-hunting and tracking deer in the Adirondacks. I was fascinated. Lanny Benoit achieved national fame for deer-tracking exploits in the big woods of his native Vermont and northern Maine.

All I can say is, “I’m unworthy.” Still-hunting is the way deer are hunted on Anticosti Island. Hunters are assigned marked trails. When I was there, we had fresh snow and ideal conditions. In that year, the population was down from a bad winter, so success was low. But I should have gotten a nice buck. I hadn’t gone far down my assigned trail when I saw big, smokin’-fresh tracks. I was already making a huge mistake: I had the rifle slung, anticipating a several-hour hike. I stopped and was getting the rifle off my shoulder when the buck launched from behind a fir tree 10 yards ahead. He sailed over the trail, long gone before I could get the rifle up. I was unready and completely outclassed.

I have had success still-hunting whitetails along creek bottoms in eastern Colorado and elsewhere in the West. My best Kansas buck was taken by still-hunting a deep canyon system. That was in far western Kansas, 400 miles from my farm, a different, almost treeless world. When conditions allow, there is no harm in trying, but understand that the odds stay with the deer. The biggest challenge: It’s nearly impossible to move slowly enough.

I believe in calling and rattling antlers. Like all calling, nothing works all the time and you never know when a buck might be receptive. I carry a Rodd Madison grunt call. It has pulled in bucks, and it’s also the best thing I know to stop a moving buck for a shot. Rattling antlers can work anywhere, but it is primarily a Texas technique. The first time I saw a buck come to antlers was with Texas gun writer and whitetail legend John Wootters doing the rattling. Much later, great whitetail hunter Michael De Witt showed me his rattling technique. It’s not that it won’t work anywhere else, but it’s best to have a high buck-to-doe ratio and pre-rut or rut conditions.

GOING WESTERN

Stands can work almost anywhere whitetails are hunted. It’s just that vistas and distances change. In my corner of Kansas, we have two dozen stands. One, over the largest food plot, might offer a 300-yard shot, but our average shot is 100 yards. I have no idea how many stands Georgia buddy Zack Aultman has on his pine plantation. Not sure he knows. 

However, when I think of Western whitetail hunting, I think about spot-and-stalk hunting—emphasis on “spot” — with good optics. I started hunting Coues deer in the late 1970s and fell in love with the desert mountains and these pretty little deer. Once, during a rainstorm in Sonora, we ran into a nest of bucks and shot a nice one at less than 40 yards. With Coues deer, this is rare. Small deer in big country, Coues deer offer the most optics-intensive hunting I know and some of the longest on-average shooting.

Find them, read the ground, stalk. I learned from the best: First Marvin and Warner Glenn, then Duwane Adams and Kirk Kelso. Arizona Coues deer hunters essentially invented glassing with big, tripod-mounted binoculars. They exported the technique to adjacent Mexico and then to other areas and animals.

Glassing does not apply to much whitetail hunting: You must have vistas to glass. In my part of Kansas, most of the Southeast and Northeast, it’s better to stick with deer stands. There are places, and not just for Coues whitetails. On the Great Plains, we often hunted whitetails by glassing. Once, in eastern Colorado, outfitter Tom Tietz glassed up a fine buck up in some rimrock at an impossible distance. We watched him vanish, and we assumed he had bedded. An hour later, we got over there and couldn’t find him. I guess he was bedded down in a little crevice because he exploded from under our feet and was a massive 10-pointer. Bullets flew. So did the deer. He went across a bench and was gone.

Other whitetails are similar to Coues deer, small deer in big country, best hunted the same way, by painstaking glassing. The Mexican Central Plateau whitetail occupies a huge range and is typically thin on the ground. The country where I hunted them with Armando Klein, on a family ranch north of Zacatecas, was high, wild and incredibly beautiful. We didn’t see a lot of deer, but with careful glassing and patience, we found a nice buck and got him with a longish shot.

The Carmen Mountains whitetail, O. v. carminis, is slightly smaller than Coues and is found in far West Texas, where they call him “fantail” because of his extra-large white tail. This deer occupies a large range in northern Mexico, east of Coues deer and west of the Texas whitetail. Also sparse on the ground, intensive glassing is the best option. I hunted them on both sides of the border, in eastern Coahuila and in Texas near Big Bend.

That deer gave me one of my favorite whitetail memories. 

I was hunting del Carmen in the Chinati Mountains with Steve Jones, up on a ridge and glassing down onto some rocky shelves. Steve picked up two aoudad rams, and we got the spotting scope on them. Their gorgeous manes were swinging, and they picked their way along the top of a little cliff. Then, right in the scope, they bumped a bedded buck. 

Nice buck, too. I worked my way down and shot him an hour later.

Features Editor Col. Craig Boddington is an author, hunter and longtime SCI member. He is past president of the Los Angeles Chapter, a decorated Marine and C.J. McElroy Award winner.

The post So Many Whitetails, So Little Time appeared first on Safari Club.

My friend Gordon Appleby just returned from a great safari in Caprivi. And then he lamented that he didn’t have any hunts planned. But then I heard from him again and he said was looking at a moose hunt in northern Alberta with a good outfitter I know and like. 

I told him I’d join him. The western Canada moose is among the few animals I’d really like to improve upon.

Gordon came back within the hour. It won’t happen. The outfitter is booked up two years out.

For over 15 years, I’ve set an annual date with Mark Haldane of Zambeze Delta Safaris in his Coutada 11 in coastal Mozambique. Okay, it’s a silly extravagance: there is nothing I need there.

However, I like that area, the camp and the team and I love to hunt the big herds in this buffalo-rich area. There is plenty of camp space, a huge variety of game and adequate quotas because of the relatively short season between the rains. 

A last-minute attempt is never a good idea, but I’ve never worried too much about pinning down times. As has been common with many good outfitters, our annual SCI Convention has been a good time to compare schedules and lock up the dates.

Things have changed. There is not much left open for 2025 at Zambeze Delta Safaris. I finally got a date in November, which is near the last opening for next year. 

That’s okay by me. The swamps will be as dry as they get. It will be a great time for buffalo and plains game will swarm the pans out in the forest. But it’s late in the season and likely to be hot.

Our annual Convention in Nashville is the world’s best marketplace to shop for hunts, Bar none. 

There are outfitters large and small from all over the world. An outfitter’s job is to do a good job. In every sense, that means good areas and camps. Good experience, good game of decent quality. 

When they make hunters happy, more hunters will come. That’s a long-term and over-arching goal. 

A secondary and more immediate goal: Fill the dates for the next season. An outfitter’s ability to do this depends on the quality of his/her product and his/her ability to market it. The latter depends somewhat on factors beyond any outfitter’s control: economy and politics.

The pandemic is over. The world is open. Economies vary, not everyone is great, but people are traveling.

Despite the amazing shopping-center for hunters our Convention offers, by the time the ribbon is cut in Nashville on January 22, 2025, many outfitters will have filled their prime dates for next year and will be booking into 2026. 

There are lots of reasons for this. An outfitter’s popularity and reputation, limited seasons and limited quota. Or, even within a long season, favorable weather or conditions for prime species could also limit options. 

Ideally, you don’t want to hunt leopards late, after groundwater dries and key prey species drop their young. It is best to hunt kudu early during the rut, from late May to early July. Given a choice, you want to hunt elk or red stag when they’re bugling or roaring, perhaps a four-week window within a season that might run months.

For sure, go hunting when you can. The animals are there, and great things can happen whenever the season is open. However, it’s always best to do your research and put yourself in the best place at the best time. These days, more than in recent years, this means it’s wise to plan ahead.

Sure, you can get lucky. Ten years ago, after exhaustive deliberation and procrastination, my buddy John Stucker was “almost ready” to pull the trigger on his first African safari. He wasn’t in a hurry. 

I suggested he contact Dirk de Bod in Namibia, which is a great destination and outfitter. I soothed Stucker by assuring him that Dirk was “always” booked up a couple of years out.

“Just get something on the calendar,” I said.  

Wouldn’t you know it, Dirk had an opening six months later. Stucker was, well, stuck. 

He took the opening, and to this day, he suspects I gooned him. (He also blames me for the several safaris that have followed.)

Was that good luck or bad? 

Depends on how you look at it, but don’t expect to walk into our 2025 Convention and find that every outfitter has dates within the calendar year. Sure, they’re out there. Some areas have more competition, some hunts are tougher to sell and some outfitters have more slots to sell than others. 

All outfitters suffer occasional cancellations and then must scramble to fill them. For some hunters, cancellations are a plan. Sit back like scavengers, hoping to swoop in for a deal. 

Sometimes, it works, but it’s hard to count on. Others plan by purchasing hunts at auctions. There is nothing wrong with that. It’s good for everybody, and an auction hunt carries a specified date or period, meaning that opening is set aside.

The only problem with that plan is that the exact hunt you want may not be on the auction block at the exact time you want to go. It is still good to shop at our Convention. It’s the world’s best shopping mall for hunters, but absent luck, my sense is we need to plan further out. Maybe at this convention, look ahead to 2026, even 2027. 

I’ve never had a fixed vacation, and the uncertainty of all those years in the Marines made long-range plans risky. Planning hunts a couple of years out would be a sea change for me — especially these days when I’m reluctant to purchase green bananas. 

Having recently lost out on hunts I wanted because they were booked up, I’m convinced planning farther out is increasingly necessary. I’m working on it.

In 2019, I hunted caribou on the Alaskan Peninsula out of Dave Leonard’s brown bear camp. I decided I wanted to hunt the Alaskan brown bear one more time and committed to the October 2023 bear season. Pretty sure it’s the only hunt I ever booked four years out. Maybe I’m getting better, and I have help. 

My buddy Stucker, with limited vacation time and kids in school, is a long-range planner. He’s already got me roped into a hunt in 2026, trying to talk me into committing to another in 2027. Seems like a bright green banana, but maybe.

Features Editor Col. Craig Boddington is an author, hunter and longtime SCI member. He is past president of the Los Angeles Chapter, a decorated Marine and C.J. McElroy Award winner.

The post Looking To Book A Safari? appeared first on Safari Club.

Originally published in the 2024 September/October issue of Safari Magazine.

Editor’s Note: Author Mark Hampton submitted this article for publication shortly before his untimely death from a heart attack while hunting in Tanzania. It is with great pride that we publish this piece as a salute to Mark, who was much more than simply the preeminent handgun hunting writer in the world. Mark also was an outspoken evangelist for hunting and its inescapable ties to sustainable use conservation. He was active in SCI as co-chair of the Record Book and World Hunting Awards Committee. Mark, it has been an honor to work with you. You have left the world a better place for your having been here. May you rest in peace.

As I climbed up the wooded ladder into the blind, my mind was wrestling with trepidation. We hadn’t seen a bear yet, but we had put in long hours, hoping, waiting, anticipating for a bruin to appear. 

It was deathly still. 

Fog engulfed the forest, and visibility was bleak. Quietly as possible, I loaded the gun and got settled in for the long, insipid wait. My guide, Marko, got his gear situated.

“When the bear shows up, do not say a word,” he whispered. “And be careful not to touch the window with your barrel.” 

There wasn’t actually a window; it was just an opening covered by an old green wool blanket with a piece cut out so you could see. For a test run, I eased the gun out of the shooting port and took a rest from the wooden ledge on the outside of the blind. Not touching anything, I felt confident I could get the gun into shooting position without making a sound. 

The fog dissipated, and we could see clearly now. Huge spruce trees surrounded us. The bait was 50 yards away. I wasn’t looking forward to the next six or seven hours sitting in this elevated blind, watching for any movement. My attention deficit disorder soon kicked in, and my thoughts drifted. 

I was watching an insect crawling around the floor when Marko whispered, “Bear!” 

Immediately, I looked up and sure enough, this beautiful bear was standing 50 yards away. Slowly and very cautiously, I eased the gun out of the void portion of the blanket and took a rest. I cocked the hammer and placed the crosshairs on the bear’s shoulder. He was not standing in the perfect position, so I waited for the right shot. It seemed like an eternity, but the bear finally moved, presenting a picture-perfect opportunity.

As I started tugging the trigger so gently, target panic ensued, like “buck fever.” The crosshairs were moving all over the place. I backed off the trigger, took a couple of deep breaths, and tried to calm my nerves. The second time I placed the crosshairs on target, they appeared steady enough to squeeze the trigger. When the hammer dropped, the evening solitude was abruptly shattered.

For many of us, Bosnia has been an overlooked, underappreciated hunting destination. The small and sparsely populated country in southeast Europe rests on the Balkan Peninsula, bordering Serbia to the east and Croatia to the north. The country’s modest multi-ethnic population is less than 4 million residents. 

Mountainous terrain with heavily forested plateaus engulfs much of the northern real estate. Timber is a thriving industry. Wood products such as furniture have been essential exports to the economy. Rich in natural springs, Bosnia is blessed with many crystal-clear rivers, including the Sava, which flows into the Danube near Belgrade. Most of those rivers are home to several species of trout and grayling. Little did I know, fishing is world-class here.

Another fact unbeknownst to me was that Bosnia hosts a variety of big game, including European brown bear, boar, chamois, roe deer, wolf and capercaillie. The capercaillie, a large species of grouse, is highly sought after by bird-hunting enthusiasts. Pheasant, quail, grouse, woodcock and ducks are also abundant. The little country boasts a tremendous amount of quality outdoor activity for the sports-minded.

Back in the early to mid-1990s, Bosnia witnessed a wicked, tumultuous war that entailed horrific atrocities. Today, the country is stable and peaceful. It is a beautiful country, indeed, with diverse wildlife alongside many places of cultural and historical significance.

During the 2024 SCI Convention, I visited with my friends at Safari International, Zlatko and Toma Sokolik. My wife Karen and I enjoyed a hunt with these dedicated professionals last year. 

The discussion turned to other options as Safari International operates in several European countries such as Macedonia, Greece, Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, along with Bosnia and Herzegovina. 

When Zlatko mentioned European brown bears in Bosnia, I was all ears. I had never experienced Bosnia, so it didn’t take long for Zlatko to convince me this was a good opportunity for a nice bruin. 

Karen and I arrived in the capital, Sarajevo, and cleared customs. We were to head north with Zlatko toward our hunting area. The landscape was gorgeous. In short order, we reached a quaint little hotel up in the mountains. The local guides had been monitoring trail cameras and wanted to hunt that evening. I wasn’t going to say no.

The common method of hunting Eurasian brown bears is from elevated blinds over bait. This has been the preferred method in Bosnia and other European countries, such as Croatia and Romania, in the past. 

Shots are not long but often taken after sunset. Thermal optics are utilized similarly to hog hunting in the U.S. While some may sneer at this method, it’s legal here and when you’re in Rome…

We quietly approached the blind and got settled in the first evening. Unfortunately, the thermal optic attachment to my scope did not fit. I hoped the bear would come in before shooting light faded, allowing me to shoot with the Encore handgun. 

With great anticipation, we waited, just like you would in a leopard blind. No talking, just sit and watch. Then, it got dark and we waited for a few more hours. Nothing showed up, so we called it quits for the night.

During the day, Zlatko was kind enough to show us some of the nearby historical sights. We saw several different rivers, and I only wished we would have planned for a bit of trout fishing.

That evening, we went to a different blind. Trail cameras had revealed that two nice bears were showing up. The blind was top-of-the-line with good windows, carpet on the floor to lessen noise, comfortable chairs and spacious enough for three or four people. 

We hadn’t been in the blind for an hour or so when a fox showed up and entertained us for quite some time. The sun settled behind the mountain and complete darkness consumed the landscape. 

Marko, the head honcho, periodically looked through his thermal aid to check for bears. 

After a few hours of sitting in the pitch black, your mind wanders. It’s not the most exciting time until something shows up. 

Just before midnight Marko whispered, “There’s a boar!” 

Well, do we shoot or pass him up and wait for a bear? 

After a little discussion, Marko felt the bear should have shown up by now, so we decided to take this dandy wild boar. I don’t have a lot of experience shooting thermal optics, but I could clearly see this hog when looking through the scope. 

When the boar turned perfectly broadside, I squeezed the trigger on Marko’s 8×57. The boar took off and disappeared in a flash. We looked for blood but found very little. It was extremely thick where the boar headed so we decided to make a recovery in the morning.

I didn’t sleep much that night, thinking if I had made a bad shot and replaying the whole episode repeatedly in my mind. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. The sight picture looked ideal.

Early the next morning, the recovery was quick as the boar hadn’t gone too far in the gauntlet of underbrush. My first head of game in Bosnia was headed for the salt.

That dandy porker broke the ice, but we were still hoping for a bear. The next evening Marko and I headed for yet another location. Evidence on the trail camera indicated bear activity by two different bruins. 

As we slowly and quietly meandered to the blind down an old logging road, Serbian spruce trees towered above us. It was a picturesque forest, enchanted perhaps. 

This evening was different, I could feel it. 

It had rained during the day, and we could slip along without making any noise. When we arrived at the blind, it wasn’t one of the commercial types we had hunted previously but a wooden structure, something like I would have built back home. Now, if only our luck would change.

We hadn’t been in the blind very long. It was 7:30 p.m., with a lot of daylight remaining. A bear, almost magically, appeared from the forest. 

With my unbridled enthusiasm for hunting with a handgun, I was extremely thankful I wouldn’t have to shoot Marko’s rifle with thermal optics. When the 360 Buckhammer roared, it launched a 180-grain round-nose bullet that knocked the bear completely off his feet. The bear rolled over, got back up and disappeared into the forest. 

Immediately, we heard him groan a couple of times, followed by total silence. Marko and I looked at each other in disbelief. Marko looked at me with that infectious smile and whispered, “I think he’s finished.”

As we eased over to the area where the bear rolled over, blood covered the ground. Following the blood trail was effortless, and within 25 yards, the bruin lay motionless. 

We were both jubilant! Marko was impressed with the performance of the cartridge, and I was just happy to have a European brown bear to skin. It was a beautiful bear. The moment was surreal.

Bosnia could possibly be a hidden gem among European hunting destinations. It’s definitely on my radar screen now, and I will return. Only next time I will be packing some fishing gear along with my firearm.

The post Bosnia Bruins and Boars  appeared first on Safari Club.

By John Geiger, SAFARI Magazine Managing Editor 

Originally published in the September-October 2024 issue of SAFARI Magazine. 

You might not expect someone hunting for record-book animals in the far reaches of the world to choose a crossbow over a rifle. 

Well, you don’t know Bo. 

Bo Morgan is one of a kind. He’s Western through and through, a guide who specializes in mountain goats and rams on the world’s highest peaks for sport and for first-class international hunters. He’s a Marine, a maverick and detail-oriented jetsetter with a gritty side. 

Morgan has won some top awards in the industry with a rifle and crossbow. He’s earned SCI’s 4th Pinnacle of Achievement and is just three animals away from the Zenith Award. He’s very close to the North America Super 10 with a crossbow, which he’ll attain after scoring a mountain goat. Anyone who’s tried knows that getting close to a big Billie is not always easy, even for a rifle shot. Imagine the difficulty of getting close enough to take a mountain goat with a crossbow. 

“He’s a killing machine who has great eyes and knows the animals’ behavior so well,” said Tim Haught, a client and hunting buddy. 

Morgan was born in California and grew up hunting squirrels and rabbits in southwestern Montana. Today, he travels the world and hunts it, so when a client asks him where to hunt in Mongolia for an argali ram, Nepal for a blue sheep or New Zealand for a tahr, he’s been there and done that. 

Yet, if he had his way, this hunter and his clients would always shoot a crossbow instead of bolt-action rifles. 

“I have nothing against rifles, but crossbows are just cooler,” said Morgan, who splits his time between Montana and Arizona when he’s not on a lonely mountaintop glassing rocks.

With a gun, you have a better chance from a long distance and it will deliver much more killing shock on impact. With a crossbow, you need to get extremely close, which means a reduced chance of success. 

“I’ve got a buddy with a California desert bighorn tag in his pocket,” said Morgan, recently noting how rare that tag is. “I told him, ‘Let’s do it with a crossbow!’ Could you imagine that? How cool would that be? That record would never be broken!” 

Along those lines, Morgan recently returned from a muskox hunt in the Northwest Territories. He shot a fine old bull that would probably make the record books in the rifle category but wouldn’t be at the top of the heap. However, he shot it with a crossbow, so it will rank very high. It’s actually the only one on record; it’s the new SCI No. 1 Barren Ground muskox in the crossbow category. 

Looking for a record? Bring a crossbow, Bo says. 

“I know it sounds like I am a trophy guy, but really I am not,” said Morgan, who is immediately recognizable in hunting websites and magazines by his omnipresent Boonie-style Marine hat. “Sure, I like being on the list, but my focus is on hunting and the challenge,” he said. “And to be honest, I got to say, it’s good for business, too.” 

Morgan says he stays relevant in the rarified world of international hunters by keeping his name in the books. That way, people who do look for record opportunities or who are hunting to attain awards, like the International Hunter Award or the Weatherby Award, will see his name in the books and realize that Bo knows Iberian mouflon (Toledo, Spain, 129 4/8 SCI), or Gobi ibex (Mongolia, 98 4/8) or an elk (Wyoming, 326 2/8). He’s got 88 of his own SCI entries — Bo being the hunter — dating back to 1994. He’s got many more as a guide. 

Morgan has helped clients get listed in many books, such as Rowland Ward’s Record of Big Game and Boone & Crockett Club’s World Record Gallery. However, he prefers the SCI Record Book overall. 

Morgan says the difference is the way SCI adds up antler size. Many record-keeping bodies deduct for non-symmetrical antlers. Others add in subjective criteria, like “beauty points,” that might include coloring or shape. However, SCI uses the total number of inches, measured at specific locations on the antlers, without deductions. Morgan says that is important to him, especially when it comes to a big ram. 

Unlike ungulates, rams never drop their horns. The older warriors, the true trophies, often have chinks and chunks taken out of their horns from fights and tough living. Yet, those marks of character, which make them unique, are often deductions. SCI’s scoring method doesn’t take inches off for these kinds of differences, horn-to-horn. 

“Plus, you can tell that SCI wants people to be in their book, and that’s pretty cool,” Morgan said. 

Morgan also noted that the SCI book and others are excellent sources of conservation trends. They contain thousands upon thousands of verified records that show whether species are growing, herds are healthy and conservation methods are working. 

You might think this incredibly successful guide and hunter would be a stickler for certain bows, arrows and broadheads. Not really. When going on a hunt, Bo wants to see his client shoot a few practice shots to get an idea of their maximum ethical range. Can he hit a pack of cigarettes at 75 yards, or is 50 his max distance? 

Alexey Kim is a highly respected international hunter, who shot a bighorn sheep with a rifle with Bo. Then he had some time to kill, so to speak. 

“I always dreamed about learning how to use a crossbow,” said Kim. “But I thought it was too difficult, and you needed to study it for a long time. But I was able to get a boar after a couple of days with Bo. It was an incredibly exciting hunt.” 

Kim, who has won the Zenith Award as well as Grand Slam Club’s 30 Capra and 30 Ovis.

“That crossbow was so accurate and effective,” said Kim, who is from Russia. “In my near future, I want to buy one.” 

Morgan shoots a Ravin R26 for his bow — not so much because he wouldn’t shoot anything else, but because a friend (Haught) gave it to him, and it’s been flawless. Morgan also prefers mechanical broadheads that weigh in the 100- to 125-grain range. He shoots Ravin arrows, changes out his strings every few years and waxes occasionally. Most importantly, he says, is to practice at home at long range with whatever bow you are shooting. If you practice at longer ranges — 100, 125 and farther out — you’ll be accurate and confident inside 100 yards. 

Morgan has no reservations about saying that today’s crossbows are capable of shooting game animals at this range. But to shoot long ethically, you have to know your equipment and the behavior of the animals you’re targeting. 

“That gives more value to every hunting trophy, whether it makes a book or not,” he said. 

John Geiger is Managing Editor of SAFARI Magazine and former editor of Crossbow Revolution magazine.

The post Are Crossbows More Fun Than Guns? appeared first on Safari Club.

By Angelo Baio

Originally published in the September/October 2024 Issue of Safari Magazine.

After a long day hunting for my first desert bighorn on a concession that Jack O’Connor himself once trekked, I noticed a huge mule deer mount in camp with a rack as wide as Texas. 

This animal was enormous. David Artee, my outfitter, wouldn’t let me leave Sonora without getting me signed up for a mule deer hunt. So, I immediately turned my attention to Sonora’s gray ghost, El Burro.

I planned my hunt with David. But his entire camp staff was infected with COVID, so the hunt was passed off to his cousin Javier Artee, son of the famous Javier Artee Sr., a worldwide bighorn outfitter and conservationist. 

Javier picked us up at the airport, and we drove 50 miles north of Hermosillo to a 10,000-acre low-fence cattle ranch. Driving down the dirt track, we passed pasture after endless pasture with natural, unmanicured brush. 

Miles off the main road, we pulled up to a quaint old Mexico ranch named Santa Lucia. It had been exclusively leased to Javier Sr. more than 30 years ago to hunt mule deer. We stayed in a quintessential hand-built Mexican ranch house. 

The nightly January desert air would dip to the low 40s and violently swing 30 degrees each noon. However, that night, the front porch window invited us in to relax by a roaring fireplace as we enjoyed the sweet smell of an ironwood fire.

It’s no secret that Mexico’s deserts are hot and arid regions with significant temperature extremes and drought. Although mule deer can survive a few days without drinking water, I was told that cattle watering stations are a bonus for the deer on the ranch. The deer in this area are well nourished naturally but also benefit from alfalfa bales, calcium feed pellets and minerals at cattle feeding stations, which aid in trophy quality.

On the first day of the hunt, the plan was to slowly cruise dirt roads, looking for deer in the openings as they moved between bedding, food and water. To my surprise, the brush was over 15 feet high, but the ingenious Mexicans use high-rack trucks, a tradition and staple for hunting the Mexican flats. Our pick-up was full. Javier, my buddy Ty, and ranch guide Martín were on the rack while Miguel, the ranch hand, was behind the wheel.

As we cruised, Martín communicated with the driver by tugging on a piece of twine draped down to the driver’s hand when he wanted him to stop — it was crude but effective. Before the day’s heat rose in the first couple of hours, we saw at least a half-dozen does and one nice young buck cruising the watering tanks. It was encouraging enough to keep us excited about what we would see the next day.

The next morning, Javier lit a fire in the fireplace before dawn. The camp came alive with the sounds the cook preparing a hearty, full-spread Mexican breakfast and ranch hands preparing the truck. Although I didn’t sleep well with visions of 30-inch bucks in my head, I kept a calm demeanor to hide the boyish excitement inside.

At first light, our truck crept along the senderos. It was cold on that rack, but no one was distracted from the mission. The buffalo grass imported to Mexico originally for cattle graze was great for cattle but a nightmare for deer hunters. We rode for hours on this vast concession, never crossing a road twice, trying to catch deer moving to water before bedding down when the sun heated the day. We saw nothing but a doe or two.

As a consolation, the desert did give up the fresh scent of mesquite and the beautiful orange glow of the warm Mexican sun rising above the horizon. With no good deer sighted, we headed back to camp for lunch and a new plan. 

Lunch stories were always about the one we saw yesterday, but they were still enjoyable. The cat-and-mouse game was again on the agenda for the evening, which brought much of the same.

Day 2 began with excitement. Miguel got out of the truck to open a gate and spotted a couple of does 30 yards ahead that jumped the path. At that same instance, a huge, ridiculously wide and heavy-horned buck materialized right on their heels. 

“Shooter,” said Javier. 

The buck stopped behind thick brush just 30 yards away.   

I shouldered the rifle, but the buck was hard to see. Waiting what seemed like hours, we didn’t move an inch, hoping the buck would ease one way or the other for a clear shot, but instead, he slowly walked off out of sight. 

We chased that buck for the next two hours for a mile or so, getting a glimpse here and there, but each time, he dug himself further into the brush until we lost him completely and gave up at lunchtime. 

The evening hunt took us to the opposite side of the ranch to a hill barely 200 feet in elevation. I felt we were too exposed, and I honestly didn’t like the location. As soon as our binos went up, we all saw multiple deer in seconds and everyone erupted in a chorus of, “I got one here.” 

Everyone was occupied with a small buck lying down 100 yards in front of us. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a buck 100 yards to my right. It took my breath away. 

I called him out, but only Ty got a glimpse. Then the buck slowly walked off. Javier had never seen him, but I swore to myself I would take a crack at him if I found that buck again. 

The next morning, with hardly any sleep from all the action the previous day, we headed out to the grass flats to cruise the watering holes, hoping to get another chance at the buck we saw the day before. The plan was sound, but the flats didn’t produce, so back to camp we went for lunch. 

Javier wanted to check out the buck Ty and I had seen the night before, so we went back to the vantage point on the hill. While on the hill, it was not a replay from the day before. Frankly, the hunt’s ups and downs were really working my nerves. We probably had about an hour or so of light left, and Javier said we should amble back down the hill towards camp to see what materialized.  

That road down the hill twisted like a pretzel, and the thick brush on both sides made it difficult to see anything. As we made a tight turn, a small buck busted from the brush in front of us, only feet away from the bumper. My heart jumped into my throat, but it was a false alarm. 

A second later, Javier jumped to attention when he saw something else. 

“He’s much bigger and a shooter,” he said.  

I shouldered my rifle, frantically looking for the deer in my scope. The magnification was set at 6X, so I turned it down to 4 and there he was, a huge body with a tall rack high above the brush.  

“I can’t see his full head, but that rack is tall,” I said. “The body is huge and the shoulder is clear!” 

The buck parted the brush like a knife, and I could now see the whole head. This was hands down the biggest deer I had ever seen, and he was at an easy 50 yards standing broadside. 

“Yes, that’s him, take him!” said Javier in a whisper near my shoulder.

I flipped the safety off and squeezed the trigger. The rifle jumped, and instantly, the buck slammed to the ground head-first like he was hit by lightning. The buck was on his side, and his rear legs were kicking wildly and then stopped. 

“Good hit,” said Javier. 

High fives and congratulations flew. 

Suddenly, in the corner of my eye, I saw a deer running off into the brush, right where my buck had just gone down. I told Javier what I had seen, and he calmly told me that he thought it was a good hit and that the buck was dead. The five of us piled into the brush in a race to find the buck with light fading. 

As we made our way into the thick brush, we found blood in a pile right where the buck went down, but there was no buck. It was like we were in a movie, and we all looked at each other in amazement. 

Everyone kicked into hunter mode like a bunch of hounds and started looking for the blood trail. We weaved back and forth, but the blood stopped 40 yards into the thickest brush I’ve ever seen. The light was almost gone, and the inevitable sank in. We would need to regroup at camp and return at first light. 

I felt sick to my stomach and didn’t get much sleep that night as I kept replaying the shot a thousand times in my head. 

In the morning, everyone was still mumbling that they couldn’t believe what had happened the day before. We returned to where I had taken the shot and methodically searched for a blood trail. 

Javier had a secret weapon — a vaquero named Chicharron who lived on the ranch and knew the land like the back of his hand. He was on horseback and had two dogs with him. He was slight in frame, weather-worn and tough as nails. I could only make out hand signals as he spoke with Miguel, but Javier interpreted that he got a glimpse of a wounded deer he swore was my buck.

Our group spent countless hours searching for this buck. As the day heated up, exhaustion was on everyone’s faces, and Javier motioned us back to the truck. I didn’t want to walk back. Yet I was exhausted, but I resolved that if I was in Mexico and had light left, I would continue to look for this deer even if I had to do it myself.

I got to the truck, grabbed a water and avoided standing next to Javier before he could deliver more bad news. Suddenly, Chicharron appeared out of the brush and claimed he had seen the buck and had pushed the wounded deer towards the hill.

We piled into the truck and raced to where he had seen the buck. The truck slammed to a halt as Martín and the vaquero were 100 yards up the hill. Martín frantically pointed toward our direction, indicating the buck was lying down almost on top of us at just 60 yards, but we still couldn’t see him. 

Miguel, Javier and I forced our way into the thick brush, trying to pick apart every leaf in front of us. My heart raced as we slinked in 50 yards, but still no buck. Martín gave frantic hand signals from the hill above that we had veered off track and to move more to our right. 

I moved forward slowly, and in mid-stride, the buck exploded from the brush 10 feet away. I could tell that he was wounded by the way he was moving. The deer bound to my right. Knowing this was my last chance at him, I shouldered my rifle and pulled the trigger. The buck folded at the report and fell 15 feet from where I stood. 

I couldn’t hear anyone around me over the loud thumping of heartbeat in my ears, but my prayers of thanks rang out over the clatter. 

I felt tremendous relief and knew I could now sleep soundly, knowing that the buck we had spent countless hours searching for was dead and down. 

Angelo Baio is an SCI member who lives in North Carolina.

The post El Burro appeared first on Safari Club.

By Andrew Mikek

Originally published in the 2024 July/August Issue of Safari Magazine.

We stayed on the tracks all morning. Dung piles got warmer as we found where the buffalo had bedded during the night. The tracking pace slowed to a crawl. I had seen this before — the boys felt that we were close.

This is a story of a rifle and a dream to hunt Cape buffalo. In 1989, I caught wind of Winchester reintroducing their pre-64 action for the Model 70. This was available only through their custom shop in super-grade trim. 

Even though it was way out of my budget, I ordered a .375 H&H. My wife called my purchase the Phantom, as a lot of money disappeared, and nothing ever showed up. It took a year to receive the rifle, with U.S. Repeating Arms Company, which made Winchester firearms at the time, going through bankruptcy. 

About the time I ordered the rifle, my wife became pregnant with our son, so my plans for a buffalo hunt with this gun took a back burner to fatherhood.

Finally, after 34 years, the Phantom was going to Africa for a buffalo hunt and my son, Jake, was going with me. 

We booked our trip with Bayly Sippel Safaris for an extended hunt on Blouberg Nature Reserve in the Limpopo Province of South Africa.

When we arrived, Dempsey Bayly collected us in Johannesburg and introduced us to two of his PHs, Alex and Tyler. Tyler would be our guide for the trip north. Dempsey and Alex would meet us at the reserve later that evening.

Riding with Tyler gave us time to hear more about the reserve’s history and its buffalo. The buffalo’s genetics are from the Addo group. We could expect mature, hard-bossed bulls in the 30- to 34-inch range. 

The herd on Blouberg was about 300-plus, all self-sustaining. The off-take was set at six bulls and six cows, all of which would help feed the local community. Other species were available to hunt, but we were there for buffalo.

Tyler was anxious to show us some of the 44,000-acre property. We picked up Paul, one of the reserve’s game rangers, and made a quick stop to test-fire the rifles. We proceeded through the thick bush into the surrounding mountains, where we left the vehicle and hiked our way up a game trail to sit and glass. It felt great to spot giraffes and impala, but we hoped to see some buffalo — even from afar. 

Tyler popped over the ridge with an hour of light left to check a draw behind us. Within minutes, he was back, whistling for us to follow him. Three bulls — about 120 meters adjacent to us — were starting down the slope towards the water. Paul and I sat tight while Tyler took Jake to circle down a few hundred meters to cut them off.  

I could now hear them and caught a glimpse of the bulls as they advanced to where I figured the boys were set up. Then Paul whispered to me that he could see the bulls, but he was pointing to where we originally saw them. This made no sense to me, so I moved to be next to him where I saw three more bulls, with the last being a shooter. They were following the other three bulls down to the water. 

I watched as all six bulls slowly filed past the last opening that I could see through. They must be on top of Tyler and Jake was all I could think of as minutes ticked by. I was waiting for the “boom” of Jake’s rifle. 

Then, as the light faded, there was a thunderous noise from below. It wasn’t Jake’s .458, but hooves on rocks and trees snapping as the last three bulls came barreling back uphill. When they were about even in elevation with Paul and me, they turned away from us and ran another 100 meters. 

Then, they stopped and looked back downhill at what had spooked them — Tyler and Jake. What a sight they were in my binoculars with the last light of our first evening in Africa. 

The boys had been busted early by the first few bulls and never saw the big guy in the back. Jake was on the sticks at close range, so it still was an exciting start for us. When we returned to the chalets, Dempsey and Alex were waiting for us with the fire going and sundowners ready.

The guides had us out early on our second day to check a few water holes. Tyler and Jake headed to the high country as Dempsey, Alex, Paul and I took a track and stayed on it for 9.8 kilometers, never catching up with the buffalo. These young PHs have satellite apps that track your movements with distance and elevation. I enjoyed hearing the data but did not want to focus on gadgets besides my rifle and binoculars. 

When we came back for lunch, we met Tyler and Jake. They were on a bull early and stayed on him all morning but could not get a setup. 

On the drive back that afternoon, Dempsey spotted a nice impala ram in a large herd. He thought it was good enough that we should try a stalk. Wanting to stay focused on buffalo, we had a quick discussion before I deferred to his judgment to give it a go. 

By then, the herd was moving away. We kept following and setting up the sticks. I would get on them, and Dempsey would say, “Do you see him?” but there was too much brush and impala everywhere, and I was having trouble spotting them.

We would move and repeat this a few times. It was the fourth setup that I finally saw a nice ram moving right to left into a small opening. I was on the sticks when Dempsey made a grunt to stop him, and I took the shot. 

He ended up being a very fine ram, just over 25 inches. While the buffalo genetics on the reserve run on the smaller side, the impala genetics are quite the opposite. 

We finished our day glassing up high but did not see any buffalo.

On the third morning, we cut fresh bull tracks at a waterhole. We followed them into the late morning and bumped them a few times but never actually saw them. 

After lunch, we returned to the tracks we had found but encountered herds of impala, giraffe and kudu instead. 

After letting them feed, we proceeded to follow the tracks. Eventually, we lost the trail where another herd of buffalo had crossed. This day proved that being among high densities of game makes African hunting unequaled.

By the fourth day, the regimen was getting familiar — pick up tracks at a waterhole and follow. 

Three hours into tracking, Dempsey spotted bulls bedded, but Paul was about 2 meters out in front of him and hadn’t yet seen them. 

Dempsey hissed at Paul to get his attention. The bulls either heard or saw us as they all jumped up from their beds. Dempsey said there was a hard-bossed bull, but there were three that I could see getting up behind a curtain of brush just 12 meters away. 

The bulls were up for about 3 seconds and then running. No shot, as I was uncertain which bull to aim at, and Paul was in my line of fire. The opportunity was lost, but the excitement was still high.

By Day 5, I was starting to get apprehensive. Dempsey knew this and kept telling me to trust the process. 

“We can make a hundred mistakes,” he said. “But the buffalo only have to make one.” 

We took to the trail of a couple of bulls and followed with high optimism. Unfortunately, the wind was all over the place, and the bulls were headed downwind. After many kilometers, they got our scent, and it was game over.

I’m sure the guys thought I needed a morale boost, so they brought in a surprise appetizer for dinner that night: Mopani worms! All I can say is, I ate one. Dempsey and Alex finished a plate of them like popcorn.

Day 6 was a repeat of getting into buffalo, as close as 10 to 12 meters, with no bull giving us an opportunity. There was a lot of tracking and walking, with moments of sheer excitement thrown in. Chalk up another great day in the bush.

The morning of the seventh day began like the rest. We had good signs of three bulls leaving a waterhole from the night before. We stayed on the tracks all morning. Dung piles got warmer after we found where they had bedded during the night. Dempsey and Paul slowed our tracking pace to a crawl. I had seen this before — they were feeling that we were close.  

My extra focus was now on making sure I was moving quietly yet staying tight to Dempsey. I spent an hour creeping along with sweaty palms as I moved the Phantom from hand to hand, concentrating on the bush ahead and my feet below. Then Paul, out in front, stopped and pointed. Dempsey stopped quickly, with me right behind him.  The scene became surreal as Dempsey scooted to Paul and motioned me forward. 

“There is your bull,” he said. 

What he pointed out to me looked like a piece of light-colored wood in a huge brush tangle. 

“Your only shot is the head,” he said in a whisper. 

I felt a bit panicked that I couldn’t discern the huge buffalo right in front of me, but I wasn’t going to send a bullet until I knew my target. 

My rifle was on the sticks, but I still couldn’t see him. The information Dempsey was feeding me led me back to the light-colored wood. It was only about 45 seconds into this, but it felt like 45 minutes. 

“Do you see the black curve of his horn there?” 

Finally, yes, I did see that! It curved around into that light-colored piece of wood — the boss! I was able to identify his head and eye. 

“Level with the eye,” Dempsey whispered. 

I squeezed the Phantom’s trigger and sent the 350-grain Barnes TSX.  

I lost sight of the bull as the shot rang out. Getting back on target out of recoil, I noticed there was a bull just to the left of where I had fired. I heard Dempsey tell me to put in another, but all I could see was the bull to the left. 

Quickly, he realized my confusion and directed me forward. 

“No, the one lying there,” he said as I moved a couple of paces before seeing it. 

I shot him again but saw no movement. The other two bulls quickly departed and then, there was silence. 

The next thing I knew, Dempsey and Paul were backslapping me. 

“Dagga boy down!” they shouted.

Thoughts of the years spent dreaming about this hunt and how hard this team had worked to get us to this point made it hard to speak for a bit as all the emotions overwhelmed me. 

I had walked 82 kilometers in a week of hunting and tracked many bulls, culminating with a beautiful old bull with hard bosses and great colors from all the rubbing. At just under 34 inches, he was no monster, but that did not matter to me the least. What we buy on a safari are the memories we take home with us. My recollections of this hunt outsize any horn measurements.

Dempsey called Alex and Jake to join us. Then, a long photo session began, with a couple of pictures sent back to my wife, as nothing is real until I share it with her.

By the 10th day, my son Jake was still chasing buffalo. Due to other commitments, we had to say so long to Tyler and Alex. Jake’s new PH, Nic, made me smile when he put his 1950s-era .375 beside the Phantom and Jake’s .458. How could we go wrong with three generations of model 70s? 

Nic knew of a mud wallow where he saw some traffic that afternoon, so we decided to set an ambush. Paul and I stayed with the truck about half a kilometer away. 
Within minutes of waiting, we heard three quick shots. Arriving at the scene, Jake and Nic were all but dancing around a beautiful bull. Jake had nailed it well with two .480-grain Woodleigh softs and one solid. We were late getting back to camp after getting the bull out, but Dempsey held dinner and the celebration for us.

Nic and Jake went out on our last afternoon to see what they might find. Right before sunset, they caught some kudu moving through an open lane and Jake scored a nice old broken-horned bull. What a great end to our stay!

Blouberg is a beautiful, wild place and it was the perfect setting to make memories with my son and the Phantom. We couldn’t have asked for better guides than the passionate young men from Bayly Sippel Safaris.

Andrew Mikek is an SCI member who lives in Idaho. 

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