Two of my "best" African trophies are an 18" bushbuck and a 44" sable, both from Zim. The irony is that they were also the "easiest" of all the heads I've taken in 7 safaris.

One day while following kudu tracks we came upon the sable standing completely in the open. The distance was less than 100 yards. The bull simply stood there and waited while we set the sticks and I shot him. No drama, no effort. It was as easy as shooting at a paper target. The circumstances of my bushbuck were very similar.

Like most of you, I measure my hunts in the context of the total experience. The travel, the venue, the weather, the sights, the stalk, all of it. The final act of taking a trophy is, for me, among the least important and least fulfilling aspects of the experience.

I took the bushbuck on my first trip to Zim, so it holds a special place in that regard. The sable was taken on another trip that saw me skunked on kudu.

When I look at them on my wall today I find it ironic that they were so easy to come by. I cannot in good faith say that I earned them in any way. It makes me a little sad that two such remarkable trophies were taken under such unremarkable circumstances. Perhaps that is exactly what makes them so memorable.

Any similar experiences?

As a general rule, I try not to look gift sables in the mouth.

The closest animal I have to making Boone and Crocket is my Shiras moose from Idaho. Had his right front tine split into a fork the way the left front tine did, he easily makes book. I was hunting with a friend who also had a tag. We were camped on a bluff just above a creek. He went out in the morning to saddle the horses while I made breakfast. The horses never saw a saddle. The moose were in full rut and bunched up in the creek below camp.

We waited until first light and walked up the hill. 45 minutes later there were two bull moose on the ground. Can't say I'm sorry about it, but the whole event and all the planning that went into it....well to have it end so quickly and easily was a bit of a letdown.

In contrast to that....

A few years ago on a rut hunt for Coues deer, I glassed up a buck from 1100 yards in the early afternoon. He was with a bunch of does and a younger buck. The show he put on was one I'll never forget. Harassing the does, running off the younger buck and finally picking a fight with a big patch of prickly pear cactus. We just sat there laughing at the comedy of it all. My buddy and I knew we weren't going to make it over there before dark, so we worked out a game plan using my laser range finder to pick out a spot we thought was closest and could get a shot.

Well we waited until first light the next day to start up through the steep and thick country. We found the spot which was as close as we could get to them without being on the same side of the canyon. Ranged at 400 yards just as we expected. After about a half hour the first does showed themselves and shortly thereafter the buck from the day before appeared. A few minutes later we were descending the steep canyon to retrieve this buck. He only scored in 90's, well short of the 110" minimum book score. But he'll always be one of my most memorable animals with the way the hunt went.

My bushbuck was similar to yours. Sitting around camp one afternoon reading and drinking a gin and tonic. We had taken most of the animals on our wish list for our Selous safari and were leaving the next morning for a spike camp on the Rufugi.
The PH comes up to me and says that one of the kitchen staff saw a nice bushbuck cross the sand river about 100 yards behind me and he has sent one of the trackers for my gun. We go down into the sand river and set up with the wind at our backs and the tracker goes into the bush on the other side. I'm thinking "This will never work". Suddenly the bushbuck breaks cover and I shoot him as he reaches the other side.
My best buff was similar. We were motoring back to camp just at dusk when some one spotted a really nice buff about 80 yards away in thick cover. I got out and popped him. End of story.
I've never been one to pass up what Diana offers.

I've had that happen to me on many of my trophies as well. However, I look at those trophies as me being fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time (i.e. luck), and with that said, I feel that I have been VERY LUCKY indeed to have been given the opportunity to take such great trophies. And like others have said, I am certainly not one to ignore luck and fortunate circumstances!

TWL,

If you mean animals of the best trophy quality I have to agree that often they come very easily but sometimes they may come after previous empty handed attempts.

In '98 I spent several days trying to shoot a sitatunga and it just didn't happen. We waded out to islands in the swamp in the dark through waist deep water and got seriously chewed by mosquitoes. We never saw a sitatunga in range. In 2000 we went back. Never got our feet wet and shot a big sitatunga on day one plus a high scoring black lechwe.

OR IT'S BETTER TO BE LUCKY THAN GOOD.

I booked 10 days at a premium price to try and best my 42.5" sable from my first safari. I killed a 45.25" sable after a one hour stalk on the first morning.

Then again I've never killed a really big buffalo eventhough I tried hard in Tanzania and lions have been my bugga boo and still are. I killed one but it is not a great lion. I'm giving that one another try this year after my first attempt 18 years ago.

I don't think I personally appreciate a trophy that was fairly easy to take less because there will be many that will drive you babanas.

Mark

Day one of my first ever African hunt and the wife and I had only stepped off the plane in JoBerg hours earlier and driven north to the area we were to hunt.
We settled into our quarters and changed into our hunting gear.
Wide eyed and buzzing with excitement we drove off up a long rugged valley to where the P.H. had a range set up so we could check my old 700 .270 after the flight.
A couple of km's into the drive and we had already spotted Impala, Warthog and a huge Eland bull (not in my shopping cart) from the back of the vehicle.
We are snapped out of our dream state when suddenly the Landcruiser slams to a halt and Peter Harris tells me to grab my gun and follow him.
I was all for doing exactly as he said and jumped down - leaving the wife behind to watch what unfolded.
We took off at a slight jog directly into the scrub towards the steep side of the valley.
I still had no idea of what we were doing as not a word had been spoken since leaving the truck.
Suddenly Peter stops, pulls his bino's to his eyes and then announces I should put a bullet in the Kudu he's looking at if I get a chance.
I'm furiously scanning the rocky, scrub dotted terrain in front of me trying to pick up the bull. No good I tell him - I can't see a bloody thing.
A bit of direction and I can see the tops of his horns above the scrub a lot further up the slope than I had presumed.
Peter is now telling me to shoot so it's up with the Remington and onto the bull.
He's long ago spotted us and quite intent on tallyhoo'ing the sub region (the first of many times in the next ten days I would hear that phrase).
Peter reckons it's about 200 metres plus but the bugger doesn't stop.
As he nears the top of the ridge he slows to negotiate a rocky fissure in the trail and I put a 140 gr Barnes his way. Peter urges me to send off another and I do so in a calmness that surprises me.
It's all over in seconds and Peter's slapping me on the back and making plenty of encouraging noises - I'm still away with the fairies and have no idea of the reality of the moment.
By now my wife and the trackers have caught up to us and the excited jabbering continues.
It takes a lot longer to reach the spot than I would have imagined and it becomes apparent that the shot was closer to 300 m than the previous estimate.
I still can't believe I've actually shot something in Africa on day one and as we negotiate around the rock formation and come across the Kudu I'm almost brought to tears.
Lying dead on a narrow game trail between two rock mounds is the most beautiful trophy I've ever taken still to this day - old, heavy, deep curled and oh so wide, a 56 " Kudu bull.
Since that day I've been fascinated by the people, the animals, the scenery and the culture of all things Africa and have been fortunate and lucky enough to have enjoyed a modest range of plains game hunting but that first day of that first hunt has a special place in my mind and heart.
As I turn in my desk chair now and gaze at the shoulder mount on the wall behind me - the mass, the ivory tips and the torn ears - I can picture the whole experience almost down to the smells and the sounds of that first day in Africa.
I wish I was there right now.

My best trophy (book wise) is a Steenbok that I got in Namibia on my first hunt. We were driving along looking for warthogs and I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye, I asked the tracker what it was and he said "Duiker", my PH said that he forgot to tell Gottfried that I still had a duiker or steenbok on license and told him to keep an eye out for them also.

10 minutes later Gottfried taps on the roof and says "Steenbok". My PH jams on the brakes and says "There's a great buck right in front of us." I get out of the truck and missed him completely from 50 yards. 2 minutes later I nailed a 5 1/8" Steenbok.

I took a Cape Eland that taped just a whisker under 40 inches. For a big bull eland, he came really easy. We spotted a herd with a decent bull while driving along on the way to a place for kudu. Stopped the Toyota and went on a little walk. About 100 yards in front of us, this really good bull stepped out of the brush. A quick set of the sticks and a 300 Gr Woodleigh from the H&H was on its way. Took him with a high shoulder shot because the brush was a little high. He went down in a heap.

We were less than 100 yards from the truck and didn't even know that particular bull was even around. Never turn down a gift the bush offers. Here's the bull after we moved him to a place with less brush. You can see the bullet hole on the shoulder:

you never look an african gift horse in the mouth. Shot a liget 58 kudu two hours later ran up on a 60. passed thinking i would bump him again. boy was I stupid...

Folks, hunting is what it is. For every "Give Me" there are plenty of missed opportunities.

Whatever one needs to keep in mind, is that sport hunting, for the Common Man, did not really start until AFTER WWII.

Before then only the well heeled could afford such hunts. Why are so many folks trying to justify what thery are doing. If the chance at an animal presents its self, whether it is record book quality or not, it is the Individual Hunters decision whether to take the shot or not. If you take it, be thankful, because the next one may not come so damn easy.

I am 28 and going to Africa in May so maybe I will have some stories about African animals when I get back but for now I have a good turkey story. When I was 16 I was really excited to go and try for my first turkey on my parents farm. I went and bought my turkey landowners license over the counter the day before opening day. My dad had one of his friends who is a turkey nut come out to guide me and we met up the next morning for the hunt. He did an owl call and the turkeys responded with at shock gobble and off we went. We got set up and made a few clucks and the turkeys flew out of the roost and came running to us. Three jakes came out of the woods and the guy who was guiding me started yelling, “Shoot the white one, Shoot the white one”. I pulled the trigger and down he went. Before I could get up my guide was at the turkey jumping up and down yelling, “You shot a piebald turkey!” Its body was a sandy white to light brown color and just beautiful. The DNR and all sorts of other people came to see the eastern “smoky” piebald turkey. I bet the hunt lasted maybe 45 minutes, but it was one of my best. I had a life size mount done with habitat and placed it under glass to remember the 1 in 10,000 bird that was taken on my first turkey hunt.

The funny thing is that on the walk back with the bird the guide said, “Son, it usually never happens like this and you probably will never see a bird like this again so enjoy it.” Since then I have chased turkeys around that farm, but have never seen another piebald or got a bird that quickly.

My Australian client Jud had been on four safaris for Lion and had paid top dollar for the privilege. His last hunt with Robin Hurt drew a blank. Never saw a Lion never saw a track.

He booked for thirty days in Lunga Luswishi. The first day in the Kafue I had him head shoot a good Hippo bull in water. I was no sure of the shot so I sent my apprentice, a young man named Thor, back to camp in order to bring the boat in order that I could poke around the river. Some minutes later the unwounded bull resurfaced down river, and just as we were setting up again young Thor comes hurriedly back and without the boat. 'There is a big Lion lying on the road' he excitedly reports.

As it is fairly close we decided to walk the road and eventually find it holed up in a thicket. Jud shot his Lion and it was to be the first animal he had taken in the Kafue.

Lucky hippo.

Day one of my second safari I shot a Chobe Bushbuck about 20 minutes after sunrise and after about a 10 yard walk from the vehicle. 17.5" I have also been lucky on North American game taking more than a few wild Bison in my life. My biggest Boone and Crockett bull was taken in the first hour of the first day of hunting. Not bad compared to the multi-day, snowmobile belt burning, -40 degree affairs that characterized my other bulls. My wife has similar luck. She'd never been fishing before in her life until I took her to the Zambezi Valley a few years back. Her first fish ever was a 9.5 pound Tiger.

I was sitting in a blind, just relaxing and reading a book. Then all of a sudden this little guy walked across the pan .

Measured (something like) 5 7/8" and 5 5/8"

To me this is what influnces my choice on the topic of favorite plains game.
On my first trip to Namibia I got a nice Kudu very easy. I worked hard for 3 days to get a Gemsbok.
From talking to people Kudu can be tough, but the 2 heads hang next to each other and the Gemsbok is the one I talk about the most.
I killed a nice Warthog and 2 days later I passed up a monster (cheap) I regret that every day.

+1

I shot a nice kudu but it was too easy. I cheated myself out of the experience of hunting one by allowing myself to be talked into a 50 yard stalk and a quick shot. I almost never think about that animal.

The warthog on the other hand was an animal that I had truthfully taken for granted. I just assumed that I would shoot one in the course of my first safari. After three days of sitting by waterholes (which I don't like to do) I finally shot one after a chance spot and stalk that started in a cow pasture. That is the animal that I love to talk about.