Get out! Get out!
By Ron Dodrill

Get out! Get out! My PH, Gerd, said to me sharply, while I had my binoculars up, peering intently at the two bulls. Michael, the tracker, was already off the truck with the shooting sticks, moving quickly out in front of, and off to the side, of the truck as I quickly exited to begin the stalk with my Winchester Model 70 .338 Win. Mag.

It was the eighth day of a 10 day hunt, in July 2007, which I and my wife, Martha, booked with Gerhard and Martina Liedtke, owners of Okondura Nord Hunt and Guest Ranch near Karibib, Namibia. When booking the hunt I informed them that I wanted a truly fair chase hunt of free ranging game, using the spot and stalk method. I did not want to shoot penned-up game. Although I was 71 years young at the time; I did not want an easy hunt. I am still in pretty good shape. I was assured I would get what I asked for in that regard.

As it happened, Gerd's hunting ethics and philosophy are in sync with mine. He has great respect for the game, especially kudu, which he holds in very high regard. He has a deep passion for hunting for big kudu. We both view it as a majestic, noble and beautiful creature of regal bearing.

After being on the ranch for a few days, I learned, indirectly, that Gerd was intent on getting me a very good trophy kudu, although I was prepared to take any representative, mature bull.

After seven days of hunting, always looking for that big bull, I had seen many kudu cows, calves and young bulls and several good bulls. But most bulls were either too distant, or we were unable to make a stalk, or not the top class bull that Gerd wanted for me. At some point, late in the hunt, I began thinking of Ernest Hemingway's prophetic remark in his classic work, Green Hills of Africa: “The one thing I really want is a kudu.” He finally got his near the end of his hunt.

On the morning of the eighth day, while driving the roads (actually, here in the U.S. we would call them jeep trails) spotting for kudu, we saw several bulls but, not the big boy. Suddenly, we saw to our right a pair of bulls, off the road about 50 meters. One bull was clearly bigger than the other. They were moving laterally through the brush and trees, widening the distance between us.

As I was out of the truck now; Michael kept moving closer, now setting up, then moving the sticks (with me behind him like his shadow); he did this several times as the bulls were on the move.

At one point, surprisingly, the biggest bull started veering to the left away from cover toward open space as I got set on the sticks. As he bounded into the open, at about 100 meters away, Michael whistled and The Grey Ghost committed the fatal error of our Rocky Mountain Mule Deer: he stopped broadside and looked back at us. What a beautiful sight: head erect and turned toward us; big eyes staring intently; big ears erect and alert; upright mane; tufted chest, neck and beard; white body stripes, with those gorgeous, long, perfectly symmetrical spiral horns- like a king gazing at his subjects. I took it all in for an instant. Then, I squeezed the trigger and he dropped to the shot from my handloaded 225 gr Barnes Triple Shock. I finally had my kudu. Back at the ranch they later measured him at 57 ½”.

What a climax to a wonderful hunt. I had already taken, in order, a stunning Hartmann's mtn. zebra stallion, a marvelous 16” buck springbok, and a nice old 31” bull oryx with nice, thick bases. These all more than satisfied my quest for representative, fully mature, adult male trophies.

Finally, three asides: 1) Martha was present when I took the kudu; 2) Gerd's amazing ability to spot game at a great distance and to very quickly evaluate its trophy status, the best I have witnessed in over 50 years in the field; and 3) more hospitable hosts you will not find than Martina and Gerd Liedtke.