Dangerous Rewards – Stories of African Insanity

By Todd Wilson

A Not So Welcoming Arrival

As it came to our attention that all foreign nationals were being advised to leave Zimbabwe within thirty days, my brothers and I were beginning to feel a bit uneasy about our personal safety. If you couple this with the fact that our Professional Hunter (PH) was devout alcoholic, you begin to have a recipe for disaster.

I counted back through the sequence of events which brought me to Zimbabwe. It was my second time to the Dark Continent. Seven years previous I was on Safari in South Africa. The game was abundant and the hunting was great, but this time we wanted something wilder, maybe just a little more intense. As my brother and I spoke to a Big Game Consultant at the Eastern Outdoor Show in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, he offered us multiple trips at varying locations. Sensing our daring nature, he assured us that a Safari in Zimbabwe would quell any risky urges we have, and give us a true sense of untamed Africa.

We began to realize just what we had gotten ourselves into the moment we arrived at the Bulawayo airstrip. Even before getting off the plane, we watched a small group of militant men march a short distance away. The airport was more of a barn than anything, and our luggage had somehow been misplaced. At least our bows and rifles had arrived. With one change of clothes and the possibility of amazing hunting on the horizon, we were still in good spirits. Our contact then informed us that our party, which consisted of five, was to be split for better hunting accommodations. This unexpected declaration was displeasing to say the least, but we were in no position to argue. My father Don, and middle brother Greg, were to travel south to Tuli, while my eldest brother Jeff, his fiancee Courtney, and I, were to travel north just outside of Hwange National Park. We loaded our gear into the land rover and were advised to be on our best behavior while moving through the military road blocks on the edge of each town, largely meaning no pictures. Despite a few drawbacks and martial intimidations, we arrived at our hunting camp in the middle of the night.

The Hunt Begins

As any hunter who has been to Africa will tell you, the abundance of game will leave you in awe. The first task on day one of any Safari is to head to the range and make sure your weapons are still sighted properly. This becomes especially important in Africa because Dangerous Game may be lurking around any corner, and many of which do not recognize humans as the dominant species.

A typical rifle hunt in Africa goes as follows. Hunters are seated on elevated platforms in trucks and or land rovers. Guides know particular areas which have greater densities of specific game species. The PH will usually drive while the hunters sit on the elevated platforms in the back of the truck with the trackers. Every PH always travels with at least one tracker; these men are usually local natives and are proven game experts. From the truck you will view more game in one hour than you will in a month of whitetail hunting. The PH and trackers will see game where you see nothing, and will judge animals with a naked eye better than you can with binoculars. Often I found myself pointing out herds, and the trackers would say “no bulls” (some of the only English they know) before I could even begin to recognize what animals they were. If a mature animal is spotted, the PH will judge its size and tell the hunter if it is a shooter. If you are lucky, you may get a quick shot, however this rarely happens as the game often spooks before it is even in view. The PH and trackers look for spoor along roadways and in the previously mentioned high density areas for particular animals. This may be feeding areas, watering holes, mineral deposits, travel routes, etc… If the desired game or recent spoor is found, the vehicle is abandoned and tracking on foot begins. Game will be followed until it is deemed unreachable by foot, spooked, or registered as containing no shooters. But if it does contain a mature shooter, a stalk will transpire with the looming possibility of a shot. This process could range from minutes to hours or yards to miles. A successful shot is followed by immediate tracking and game location.
Pictures ensue, and the trackers load the animal on the truck. Local native celebrations often follow, and you may have the opportunity to dine on your game that very evening.

Whatever You Wish

We woke our first morning to recognize our peaceful surroundings. Our camp was rustic but the small staff made us feel welcome. Over breakfast we discussed with our two PH’s what our objectives were. To our surprise, Joe (our head PH) assured us that we would have no trouble reaching these goals in only a few days, yet our hunt was to last eleven days! Unfortunately our wallets only permitted plains game. My mindset on day one was that of a dedicated trophy hunter, I would hunt as hard as any man had ever hunted to obtain all my animals.

As we soon found out, all we needed to do was tell Joe what animal we wished to pursue and within a couple hours we would be on the trail of a mature bull. Our PH graciously let us fill tags to the equal monetary amount of our package cost. My Father and Greg traveled to our camp on day four. Our harvest (between five of us) went as follows.

Day 1: Warthog, Impala
Day 2: 2 Impala, 2 Kudu, Steinbuck
Day 3: Zebra, Bushbuck, Eland
Day 4: Kudu, Baboon
Day 5: Impala, Kudu, Warthog
Day 6: Bushbuck, Baboon
Day 7: Bird Hunting
Day 8: Hwange National Park
Day 9: Victoria Falls
Day 10: Bungee Jumping, White Water Rafting
Day 11: Helicopter ride, Casino’s

By day six we had filled all our tags. The amount of game and hunting quality was amazing. It is hard to imagine that trophy animals of six to ten years of age are so abundant.

Imminent Danger

Memories of African intensity and danger will always remind me of the safety net we live in here in the US. I recall looking down at my foot one day as a peculiar green snake slithered across my shoe, only to hear my tracker utter “you very lucky,” in broken English. When herds of elephants break through the bush, crashing down trees and shaking the ground mere yards in front of you, you feel as if you’re in the movie Jurassic Park. One evening a herd of elephants walked directly under a tree blind I was in, I could have taken one step out of the blind and onto the elephant’s backs. I also recall remaining deathly still as crocodiles sunned themselves a few yards off as I bow hunted over a waterhole. We all ran in terror one day (our PH included) as we trampled into a slew of snakes deep in the bush. When it comes to snakes and uncertainty, all one can think of is the horrific black mamba.

One sunny afternoon my tracker and I were crawling through waist high reeds in an attempt to stalk within range of a few Kudu feeding in a dried out river bed. Godfrey (the tracker) swiftly grabbed my ankle and pointed to bushbuck less than fifteen yards in front of us. As the bull and I stared into each others eyes, I lowered my rifle, due to its immature size. Godfrey quickly exclaimed, “Do not lower your rifle!” I quickly responded “too small,” and earnestly replied “but he is getting ready to charge!” After that my crosshairs were splitting the hair between his horns, once a few moments passed the bushbuck disappeared into the reeds as if I was not worth his time.

Time to Kill

On day eight we ventured to Hwange National Park for game viewing. This would have been more enjoyable had our guide not been so drunk, swerving all over the road and repetitively making a fool out of himself. Nevertheless the wildlife in Hwange is rather inspiring, it is a land that time forgot and that humans do not rule. I can proudly say that we had the pleasure of watching African Wild Dogs on a Kill, a sight ever diminishing with the vanishing wild dog population.

On day nine we ventured to Victoria Falls, a worldly wonder that I recommend for all to see. Attractions of the area encompass sunset cruises, helicopter rides, bungee jumping, white water rafting, walking with lions, shopping, and Casino’s. We spent the rest of our vacation enjoying these activities. There is nothing quite as crazy as bungee jumping and white water rafting on the Zambezi River in Africa. Especially when you are in danger of becoming crocodile feed when your raft over turns. One also gets a certain sense of extravagance when one US dollar is worth 1000 Zim. Leading to blackjack bets of cash stacks toppling only a few dollars.

Risk Vs Reward

The experiences we had in Zimbabwe were second to none, and I believe this was directly because of the risk involved. I consider my trip to Zimbabwe to be the most rewarding experience of my life. It is merely the common principle of the risk-return trade off. Ventures which involve high reward go hand in hand with high risk. The reward in this example came in the form of amazing hunting, low costs, and undeniable experiences. Zimbabwe is by no means a tourist trap, yet it is home to some of the greatest treasures in Africa. Undeniable risk, however, dually accompanies travel to this region. Political instability reigns as the leader of Zimbabwe is feared among residents and foreign nationals. Security is questionable for the average traveler, and it is no secret that white people were forced from their lands and possessions some years ago. No wonder why Zimbabwe usually ranks high on international “places not to visit” lists. There are also the inherent natural risks of Africa, such as dangerous game, diseases, water and food purity, lack of proper health facilities, and so on.
I guess in the end it boils down to a personal question. How much adventure do you have in you, and how far are you willing to go to find it?