Oct. 10th 2012
Riding along at 37,000 ft.
With my love sitting next to me and Marty Robbins
belting them out on the Ipod.
Our trip commences...

From the days of not being able to reach the top shelf at the 1 room public library,in the small town I was raised
I always haunted the same isle and shelves.
John Hunter,Carl Ackley,Osa Johnson,T. Roosevelt could be found here and I'm sure my name is predominate on the loan cards.
Absorbing these added new words to my "country" vocabulary, Askari,spoor,safari,Mbogo, Chui,Masai,shenzi and so on.

My young brain soaked up the words like water on the parched ground of my families garden and during the frozen mornings
hunkered against the family milk cow, I daydreamed of the hot thorn scrub of Africa.
Seemed a common theme whether it was Selous, Bell, Sutherland or Pretorius. Hot and dry,not the 20 below
of a cow shed in Wyoming.

These fellas lived the adventures I sought, just to think of it would drift me off into a daydream of 100Lb elephants,
lines of chanting black skinned porters, charging lions and chuffing rhino.
Only to be brought back to my senses with a green frozen cow tail impacting the side of my head, impatient that I was
taking so long to finish.

As the years went by the taller shelves were reachable and I added Burton,Speck,Cummings,Baker,Ruark,Selby,Livinstone and more.
My meager savings suffered whenever "Outdoor Life" had a cover picture with a lion,buff or elephant on it.
I substituted Africa for the mountains of Wyoming and spent every extra day or hour, searching for the same adventure
that had enthralled me as a child. Horseback or afoot, it didn't matter.Grizzly bears, Mt. lions or bucking horses,
blizzards,sub zero temps, I didn't care.
Something called from the hidden places down deep inside, I just had to be there.

During my time in the Marine Corps, while the other guys were headed for town, I searched the sands of the Mohave and the jungles
of the Phillipines. Trying to find what? I guess I'm still not sure, but I know where it all started. My readings of Africa.
(this seems strange even to me, I am not an emotional man, some even call me a callous SOB, hard and sharp tongued.
But at this moment surrounded by 300 strangers, I find myself wiping tears. To think that in a short day or 2, I will step
off onto the continent of Africa, 40 plus years evaporate in the memeories and I'm once again a small boy in a cow shed.)

Nearly 10 yrs ago my wife and I met Mark Young and Sadie, when after leaving the bush of Alaska they moved onto
our country lane.The sellers of their new home were friends of ours and told us "you've got to meet these new folks,big hunters"
and in turn told Mark and Sadie "You got to meet,Joe and Kasi, all he does is hunts"
Thou maybe a few years older than my wife and I, The friendship was forged with dinners and summer porch "Cocktail hours"
Tales of Alaska and Africa were traded with the same from the Western US and Old Mexico.

About a year ago my lovely bride said to me "You will be 50 next yr,you need to talk to Mark and start setting up some plans
for your Safari" The 1st time she said this I let it go in 1 ear and out the other. Didn't think we could afford something like that.
The 2nd time,months later I chewed on the idea a few days but never dialed the phone.
She didn't wait much longer and said "if you want to go to Africa and hunt, you better call Mark"!
The call was made and the ball started rolling.

I think that thru the hours of story telling Mark had a good feel of the type of hunt I sought. Lots of walking,tracking
and "searching" in wild country. A 5 star camp was the last thing on my mind and my bride, being cut from the same cloth
as I, would be up to any convenience or lack thereof.

Mark teamed us up with a young, Zimbabwian fire eating PH named Terry Anders. Mark said to me, "He's tough,capable and has a great chunk
of wild country in the Save Conservancy of Zimbabwe.Works for me, I like tough and capable.
Few E-mails were traded and the rest of the plans solidified.
I had few hopes before meeting Mr. Anders, I hoped he would recognize the hunger and the want,I hope he would be willing to walk that next mile and I'd hoped he could tell a good story.Like the ones that have lead me to this point in this trail.
Livingstone, when he first laid eyes on the "Thunder that smokes" or the lion that left him crippled for life.
Bell, walking 60,000 miles after ivory.Expending unreliable cartridges shooting cormorants out of the air for practice.
John Hunter leaving Scotland at the age of 17 in a canoe with a 20 gauge stowed in the bottom of his transportation or shooting 18 lions in 1 night
from the top of the water tower at the Tsavo railway station.

The appetitie is raw and overwhelming. The hunger knaws at the backbone, a still to be filled emptyness.
How can a man live his whole life without the satisfying meal of his dreams?

The neat little screen on the seatback says 44 minutes to Joburg, the next "layover camp."
At least it will be Africa.At least I will walk upon and sleep on the continient.
It's been a long ride, Damn the long plane ride,stiff and sore,uncomfortable,piss poor sleeping position.
Actually piss poor anything position, The pennance paid for the destination. Shouldn't whine too much,
used to take months by boat,heaving,wallowing,tossing seasick misery.

I'm not sure if these words convey what this trip means,it's more than a hunt or vacation. All of my life, Africa
has called to me, shouted my name, captured my dreams both awake and asleep.this life would end incomplete without
the future of the next 30 minutes.The last 30 minutes of a trail of a million steps rode and walked the past 50 yrs.
The plane is descending, the tears are welling, good hell,I'm such a baby.

PART 2

Overnight in S.A. and I realize I still havn't touched the ground.
The city of Joburg is Africa and at the same time it isn't, in the sense of my needs.
Early wake up and back to the airport, through the maze with all the other "mice". The smells and colors,the masses of people
are candy for my eyes and distract me, keeping my mind entertained.
Boarding now for the last air leg of the journey.
Visited with an elephant PH hunting Botswana with Jeff Rand's outfit.What a lifestyle!
As close to the old ivory hunters as you can get these days.I envy these guys and people like Ivan Carter. I mean I don't ride a desk
either but.....

Rolling down the runway now, next stop Bulawayo! Wrangled myself a window seat, like a small child, face pressed against the window
on Christmas eve hoping for a glimpse of Saint Nick, have doubts of spotting him but the same feeling prevails.
Wheels leave the ground and we're off. Next stop the "Place of Kings"
Leveling off at cruising altitude,Dammit! Cloudy, can't see the ground.Africa teases me,hiding from me, making me wait still longer.
My memories revert back to the written words and names, Lew Games,Grey,Cetswayo,Mzilikasi,Andy Holmburg,Cottar,The Hill brothers,
Sir Alfred Pease,Rhodes and Jamison.
John Boyes "King of the Wa Kikuyu" The 1st elephant he shot in the Lado went 150 Lbs a side.
Grogan, who walked from Cape to Cairo.
My North American adventures pale in comparison I'm a novice here and after years of leading big game hunters stateside,
I'm just another client,reading and dreaming be damned! Just a novice, a first timer.Don't know how to be a client, never been one.
Clouds are thinning can see the ground now. Mother Africa below,Why do I feel so tied to this place?
A question with no answer.

Descending now, closer, gear down tires chirping and the reverse thrust of the engines. We have landed in Bulawayo!!
Deplaning, the new smells assault my nose, not unpleasant just different.
Walking into the "terminal" reminds me of Marine barracks or a warehouse. Simple concrete floors and faded signage.
The Officals look bored and sweaty, rubber stamps BANG on the paperwork strewn across wooden desks.
I see my checked bag and guncase "birthed" from the belly of the plane.
Questions asked in an accent strange to my ears, repeated until comprehended. They are patient with the new visitor.
Guns and ammo checked, more rubber stamps BANG.

Kobus introduces himself, a mountain of a man that would make 27 of me.We load the gear in the back of his Toyota and
I pull open the door of his rig to get in, only to find someone has put the steering wheel on the wrong side of the
passenger compartment. NOVICE! I move to the other side and all in and moving now.
Potholes rattle the truck as we drive on the wrong side of the road, making our way to Terry's house.
Black school children in color uniforms walk in groups along the dusty road edge.
Concrete fences topped with razor wire create the boundrys of yards.
Women with babies strapped to their backs walk the roadways.
Burning piles of palm fronds smolder and the smoke eddies across our travel path.
A few small stands on street corners occupied by women, as their children play and run in the dust.
We moved thru this part of town and at the few stop signs and traffic signal, curious eyes stare our way.

20 minutes later the homes grow in size and the bare red dirt yards change to landscape with shrubs and flowering plants.
Slowing and turning into a driveway marked with a sign stating the Anders family live here, I get out to open the gate
and am met by a herd of dogs. I recognize 2 jack russels, a pair of clumsy Rhodisian Ridgeback puppies and a fat old yellow lab.
Their noses drawn to the toes of my boots that are impregnated with the blood of elk, reminates of last weeks hunt.
Terry meets us on the iron grated porch, He moves smooth and easy,confident and sure.
Approaching with his hand outstreached, eyes that look square into yours, welcoming with a quick smile and relaxed manner.
Cold drinks offered, he asks of our travels, luggage and guns make it?
A plan is made to settle us at the Banif lodge for the evening, While talking this thru a toddler with a dirty face walks over and is hoisted
onto his shoulder, small arms encircle his neck. Dads home for a day.The dogs rumble and wrestle at our feet.
Plans are made to get us settled and then return for dinner and to meet the rest of the family 6:15 or so??
We have a few hours to freshen up and streach out for a nap, a welcome respite after the long trip. Much needed, much appreciated.
The family gathering is full of food and laughter. His wife's family provide good companionship, the food is both hearty and filling.
Talk last into the late evening, while the Sharks stomp a mud hole in the Griquas.

Tommorrow we head for the bush

Fantastic... Loved every minute of it!
Look forward to a great time brother you're in good hands!

Safe hunting

Ravenr
You must be back on your own time zone. I have been fighting it all week. Cant wait to see the picture.

I met you in Atlanta customs office.

Great read, can't wait for more.

Jim

Great writing. Brings back many fond memories.

Excellent reading, can't wait to read more!!!

Nice!

I started reading Ruark when I was 12 and literally devoured everything he wrote so when my 1st PH ask me if I'd ever been to Africa I told him almost everyday but especially during small game season when every squirrel scampering thru the tree's became a leopard climbing a tree. He didn't understand

I know the feeling exactly, including that first drive through Bulawayo!

Wow - what a start!!

quote:

...I pull open the door of his rig to get in, only to find someone has put the steering wheel on the wrong side of the
passenger compartment. NOVICE!

Great line - you're not the only one who's done that!!! Looking forward to the next episode.


Phil

Very well put. I can't wait for the rest.

Awesome reading. Takes me back to my first Safari landing in Arusha. I've been through "The Marine Barracks of Bulawayo" also. Lookng forward to The Rest Of The Story.

One of the best written reports I have had the pleasure to read! Awaiting the rest of the story.
You sir can surely write of what you feel.

An excellent "prelude." Don't keep us in suspenders too long.

I love it too! I know Terry and have hunted with him and I can clearly picture all of this in my mind as well! Judge G: Look out! You've got some serious competition! LOL!

More!More!

Thanks for all the kind words folks.
Been suffering from a bug caught in Zim.
Put me flat for a couple days.
Have rallyed some now and am banging on the key board.
1st installment by the end of the day.
Your collective words are inspiring and very thoughful. Thank you again

Joe,

Listen sissy boy. Get off you dead ass and continue the report. One little bug bite and your flattened? What do they say here? "Cowboy up"!!!!!!!!!!

Mark

good advice for a cry baby sissy boy, Bwana

Hey did I mention I saw 3 civet cats?

Joe,

Yeah! I'm still crying over that one. Just talked to two other guys that saw them recently.

Mark

Great prose and welcome to Africa. She is a dark whore who will bleed of your money.

Welcome to the club!!!!!!! You will never be the same.

The only thing that could have made this story better is if you had told it personally around the campfire in Chama.

Excellent writing as usual amigo

Excellent writing.Very readable. Someone, somewhere, provided you with a quality education.I look forward to more of your story.