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LadyHunter Magazine
July/Aug 2013
Ladyhuntermagazine.com
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Welcome to Lady Hunter Magazine Your online destination for female-focused hunting. It’s time the women of the hunting world were recognized in their own publication.
From the Editor Thanks for choosing Lady Hunter Magazine. Thanks to all of our writers and readers Lady Hunter Magazine continues to grow with each issue. With each article I have come to realize that hunting is becoming more of a family event than just the man going out with his buddies hunting for the day or weekend. The women have taken the family unit, including our children, to the outdoors and away from all of the electronics that we have come to depend on every day. We would like to welcome Candy Yow and Kristi Hair to our team of writers. Our ladies are what this magazine is all about and we will continue to add to our team of professional writers for your reading enjoyment. Thanks Team Lady Hunter Magazine
Contributing Editors Jeannie Wallen Kristi Lynn Hair Anita Williams Angie Arthur Candy Yow Teresa DePalma Joella Bates
Table Of Contents The Hardcore Huntress Point of View Kristi Hair...........................................3 Outdoors With Anita The Wild West Anita Williams.....................................6 Do It Afraid Angie Arthur......................................10 The Succeed Candy Yow.........................................14
LADY HUNTER MAGAZINE
4336 Milsmith Road, Chester, VA 23831 gary@LadyHunterMagazine.com. No part of Lady Hunter may be reproduced in any form without written permission of the publisher. Copyright 2013.
Pronghorn Persistence Jeannie Wallen..................................18 For The Feel of it Continued..... Teresa DePalma.................................21 CONQUERING AFRICA’S BLACK DEATH WITH ONLY A BOW AND ARROWS Joella Bates..........................................26
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The Hardcore Huntress Point Of View...
My name is Kristi Lynn Hair. I am co-owner & co-founder of Hardcore Huntresses. I was born to hunt. It was not a choice. It is my way of life. It is as if it is instinctual. A primal urge. As the bible says, “Now then, go and get your weapons, your quiver and your bow & hunt some wild game for me.” (Genesis 27:3) I hunt to provide for my family. I hunt to be self-sufficient. I hunt for the pure tranquility, peacefulness, serenity & enjoyment that only the woods can offer. You learn a lot about yourself when it is just you, God & the great outdoors. Whether you come home empty handed or with dinner, you al-
Why Do You Hunt? By Kristi Lynn Hair
ways come home feeling completely satisfied. I have a true passion for the outdoors. A passion that is hard to contain. Yes, I love a successful harvest, but it is not always about the kill. It’s what you learn about yourself, your willingness to endure any circumstances in order to live a traditional way of life. A way of life that has been passed down throughout many
generations. While sitting 30 ft. up in a tree waiting on the buck of a lifetime, I am virtually undetected and have the opportunity to witness nature in its purest form. I often have blue birds and cardinals land in my tree. Occasionally there will be a hoot owl landing 25 yards in front of me. Watching the squirrels scurry about, collecting nuts, then burying them is quite entertaining as is the look they give you when they climb into your tree (literally) & finally realize you’ve been sitting there the entire time. Watching the sunrise & sunset from 30 feet up in a tree. Hearing the woods come
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became obsessed with learning & understanding deer behavior. I practiced. I studied animal behavior intensely. At times, I would merely sit in the stand and observe the deer in their natural habitat with no intention to kill, merely to educate myself and become a better hunter. I asked my husband a million questions in regards to why he hung stands in particular locations. At the beginning of my career, I focused solely on whitetail hunting. I began surveying the land, focusing on where to hang stands according to pinch alive in the morning, then having points, watering sources & food the stillness of the night encom- plots. I studied wind direction pass you. Learning the behavior & truly understood the imporof your prey makes you a better hunter. I often witness the dominant doe run off the less dominant ones or see the younger buck knock racks with the older ones, always a challenge to be the best, especially during peak rut. You truly do become a part of their world. There are no words to describe how lovely it is to be so close to nature. I began archery hunting 6 years ago, although I grew up in a hunting family & went along on many hunts. I picked up the sport later on in life, however, the seeds were planted early. I was introduced to archery hunting by my husband, Clay Hair. I started tagging along with him on his hunts and decided I wanted to become a hunter, but in a more traditional sense. I wanted to use a bow. Determined, Focused, Driven. I worked hard. I was tough & tenacious. It became an obsession. Practicing, Training, Learning.... In about 6 months I was ready.... My first harvest was a deer.
I
tance of it. I learned how to hang stands and use a climber in the event that the wind did not cooperate or the deer suddenly changed their pattern (as they often do). I really concentrated on shot placement. Being an ethical hunter was of the utmost importance to me. Therefore, I worked most on perfecting the kill zone shot. I learned the importance of scent control (Hardcore Huntresses has an exclusive Scent Elimination Line for the serious lady huntress). I began to manage my own land. I wanted a whitetail mecca. Honestly, I never anticipated hunting anything else. Whitetails are my true passion. I’ve taken over 6 Pope
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& Young deer and donate many to Hunter’s For The Hungry every year. The thrill of the chase. The adrenaline rush of taking an animal with a stick and string, thereby putting dinner on the table, has led me to expand my range of the wild game I hunt. I’ve hunted for: Antelope, Dall Sheep, Hogs, Turkeys, Squirrel, Mule Deer, Axis Deer, Whitetail Deer, & Rattlesnake. I am expanding my list of wild game even further this year. I will be archery hunting for the following: Whitetail in 7 states (Kansas, Illinois, Wisconsin, Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio & Indiana). I will be chasing Moose in Newfoundland, Hogs in Texas, Elk in Colorado and Gator in FL. I look forward to exploring new terrains & chasing various game all over the country, making myself an even more ethical, deadly hunter who has the ability to stalk my prey virtually undetected. With that being said, white-
tail hunting is truly what I enjoy deer hunts in KY (Hunting With the most! The Hairs). I also co-founded Hardcore Huntresses with Megan Johnson. This is our mission statement: At a time when dependency is becoming the norm, we are here to promote the opposite. We are here to promote the ideals only hunting can provide. Ideals on the verge of extinction. Protecting, Providing, and Self Sufficiency. We believe this is something all women, both young and old should experience and it is our goal to make it happen! Peace, Love & Venison, Kristi Hair How my passion has turned into my way of life.... I am a mother of three, all of my children hunt. They understand the importance of being self-sufficient, being able to provide, respecting the outdoors & truly enjoying all aspects in regards to the thrill of the hunt. My husband and I own a guiding service where we sponsor several youths and veterans on turkey hunts in TN or
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The Wild West By Anita Williams
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I
step off the plane and into a scene out of a Western movie. An Indian on horseback pulls his bow and is frozen in time. Art mimics life from the past. Will I be able to duplicate the scene? My bow and the rest of the luggage circle the conveyor belt. Billy waves to me, we gather my gear, and head to his truck. The Gillette airport disappears in my rear view mirror as the Wild West adventure begins! Dust swirls behind us as we pull into the driveway, to the ranch. Billy informs me that Ryan will be my guide. I dress in my hunting clothes. And make it just in time to hunt the badlands evening hunt. The suns strength wanes as I prepare to sit in the blind for the evening. Ah, Wyoming! Known as the Equality State, a state where women are equal to men with success. I hope for my first mule deer buck and feel confident knowing that Wyoming has a long tradition of paving the way for successful women. The first female governor was elected here. I pull my cap over my ponytail and jump into the truck. Ryan tells me that Wyoming is sparsely populated; and in fact it ranks second least populated in the United States. That is why there are wide open spaces here. It is a great plateau broken with mountain ranges. The smell of sage
brush and dry earth swirl around my face as we near the ridge I will be hunting. We get out and Ryan unzips the camouflage blind and enters the blackness inside. I have hunted with Ryan before. We move quickly and quietly to organize my bow and set up my Ozonics Scent elimination unit. This is important as there is no time to de- scent with a shower. The machine will neutralize my scent allowing me to be un-detected to deer. A doe and her fawn pop over the ridge, walking my way. Ryan sits motionless and nods to the deer. Moments pass and a buck stotts (he appears to bounce as he puts all four feet down together) in my direction. Mule deer are known for their large ears and differ from white tail deer, not only from the size of their ears but by the color of the tail. Their tail is tipped in black. The buck’s antler rack is configured differently. They are bifurcated, in other words they ‘fork’ as they grow rather than branching from a single main beam. I look at the rack and also at my guide. He shakes his head ‘no’ signaling there will be a larger buck. I must be patient. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him. He is beautiful. I take a deep breath to gain complete focus. I pick up my bow and peer at the horizon and watch several other deer approach. Dark
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comes quickly, the sun is setting. I sit motionless and watch. The chill in the air wraps around me, although I refuse to give way to the shiver working its way up my spine. I gaze over Ryan’s shoulder and notice large, shadowy-like bodies pass three feet away. I look at Ryan with eyes wide open as I hook my release onto the string. There are two large bucks right in front of me! He gives the signal which one is a 4 by 4 with tall tines. I pull my bow back and release the arrow. Thwack! I make a solid hit. I watch as the buck runs down the valley. “It is dark now, let’s get something to eat, and get a good night’s rest.” My guide speaks with confidence. “We will track him at daylight’. I am giddy. Exhaustion over-takes the excitement of a first mule deer hunt. Morning will come quickly. I say a prayer of thanksgiving and close my eyes. The men are up at day-break saddling their horses. They will navigate the valley on horseback. I wait patiently. Time passes slowly, and then Ryan calls. He has my buck and will bring him home. I think
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about the vast country and many opportunities for Equality that started in Wyoming. I look across the badlands and feel a sense of accomplishment too. I arrowed a mule deer buck in the Wild West! As I hold the large rack in my hands I raise my head to the heavens and give thanks for the bounty of a successful hunt. And yes, the tradition of women being successful in Wyoming continues. Anita lives in Grand Rapids, MN and is the mother of two adult children. She has been a hairstylist for thirty years. Her empty nest allows time to pursue interests of photography, bowhunting, fishing, travel and food. You can follow her on facebook , youtube and huntervids.com.
For those of you who like to fish please check out Lady Angler Magazine http://ladyanglermagazine.com
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DO IT AFRAID!
By Angie Arthur
I
had always wanted to learn how to shoot long range, but I never had the guts or opportunity to attend a school. I had checked in to the various schools, which were rather expensive, and from the pictures I had seen-there was not one woman shown. One part of me said GO FOR IT-YOU WILL DO GREAT & SHOW THOSE BOYS HOW TO SHOOT-and the other part was whispering-YOU WILL BE THE ONLY GIRL & IT WILL BE AN UNCOMFORTABLE & SCARY ORDEAL-DONT DO IT! I have never been the type to listen to that negative voice! Thanks to the confidence and other important things I have acquired in the great outdoors school of learning that I have attended my entire life, of course. Due to an out of state bear hunt I had coming up, every resource I had was dedicated to that. So, there was no way I could attend a long range shooting school any time soon, or so I thought. It just so happened that the crew, from the outdoor show The Best of The West, was going to be in Texas to put on one of their long range shooting schools the next month. Just like a dream come
true, I was invited to attend as a special guest! I was ecstatic to say the least! No matter how much that little negative voice inside tried to discourage me to go, I was going to attend no matter what. I could have chosen not to go because I was afraid of being the only female in the school, or I could choose to go and to learn invaluable knowledge and abilities that could only enhance my life. What would you do? I couldn’t just sit on the side lineput me in coach-I’m ready to play!!
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As I approached the Champion Ranch for the school, I started feeling very uncomfortable and it was quite scary I must admit. I was welcomed with open arms by all that were there, all twenty or so men ranging from the ages of eighteen and on up. I dare not show my fear so I let my independence and confidence shine through as I was going around the circle firmly shaking hands and introducing myself. The next morning was the first day of class and I was ready to learn everything I could! We had classroom time learning about ballistics, windage, and the Best of the West shooting system we would be using. Then we were off to test our skills. As time went by the guys started giving me a hard time for being the only woman in their class. Of course, I gave them a hard time right back and told them I would show them up
on the range. So our first target we shot at was at 536 yards. They asked who wanted to be first to shoot and I quickly accepted the position. I was confident in my shooting abilities as I have been shooting a high powered rifle since I was about eight years old. My partner called the wind for me and I dialed in my scope, then TINNG!, I hit the line on the ten ring. Yes, that is right I hit a bulls eye on the first shot of the school by anyone-male or female. My next two shots were even better as I made corrections and centered in on that bulls eye. There were high fives all around and instantly they were saying they had already been shown up by a girl! The next two levels were at 865 yards and 943 yards. Again, my partner, or spotter and I were spot on, and the guys couldn’t believe their eyes! (I couldn’t either quite frankly, have you seen how far those ranges are? Believe me, they are far!) Af-
ter a day of shooting and more classroom learning we were all feeling the buzz of our new knowledge and abilities, and couldn’t wait to see what the next day had in store for us.
The next day was a day I will never forget, as we were to go around the ranch and create live hunting situations from the high points on the ranch. Bear in mind we are in West Texas and well, the high points are not quite the same as being in the mountains of Wyoming! Our first scenario was shooting down to the water’s edge at 1024 yards. I could just picture an elk standing there as I was setting up to take my first shot. My spotter called my shot for me and when I was ready, I called out,
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“I’m sending her on boys!” I sent the bullet down its path to my target (which you cannot see with the naked eye from that distance), and watched through my scope as it hit RIGHT ON! We all jumped up and whooped and hollered in celebration as this was a very difficult feat….and with the help from my spotter, I had accomplished it!! Me, a woman, the only girl in class, had just made the perfect shot at 1024 yards! I cannot tell you how amazing I was feeling at that moment. I was quickly challenged by the other half of the class that was on top of that bluff with me to see if I could hit it again. The next two shots were nothing less than perfect, and both were celebrated with much enthusiasm from all who saw. They even called the rest of the crew on the radio to let them know of my, the only girl in class, great success. Our next target was even more difficult, an astonishing 1204 yards, and I was up for the challenge. After shooting a superior high powered shooting system so many times, you start to get a bit sore.
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Well, very sore, like you have been repeatedly punched in the shoulder. It was a very warm ninety degrees and the wind was beginning to pick up. This was a typical Texas day, add the shoulder pain, with the whole doing something for the first time thing, to all equal a difficult task at hand. It seemed like forever as we had to wait for that exact moment just between the gusts of wind to take the first shot. Again, right on target! I was able to hit a 4 bullet grouping equal to a five inch pie plate. That equals to a clean ethical harvest of a mature animal at a long distance. I am now one blessed, educated, long range shooter and hunter! I am extremely proud of my accomplishments and will never forget this knowledge and experience I had with this great group of guys. Doing things afraid is something we all have do to at some time or another, but doing them by choice can be sometimes almost unbearable. If I had decided not to attend due to being scared of the unknown or being the only female, I would have missed the opportunity of a lifetime. There are so many women that listen to that negative voice and bow out of participating in outdoor activities, because they believe these are men only activities. They are activities that anyone can enjoy-man or woman. To me every experience in the outdoors is an opportunity of a lifetime, and there are more and more
organizations out there that are coed or for women only. Don’t be held back to do what your heart desires by giving in to that negativity. Seek out organizations that offer women’s only activities so that you will have a chance to learn or sharpen your skills in a stress free environment. I would be more than happy to help you in any way I can or to find an organization that fits your needs any time! You can find me on Face Book or through the WILD Jaeger website. Listen to that positive voice and GO FOR IT! YOU CAN DO IT & YOU CAN EVEN DO IT AFRAID!
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By Candy Yow I have spent all year long preparing myself for this, all the days of hiking, strength training, running and working out. Trying to build endurance and strength to keep up with the guys out on the trail. No matter how hard I try nothing can prepare you for putting on the pack and just doing it. I know I will be exhausted and hurting in no time but the satisfaction of the hunt is why I have to do it. Something deep inside me drives me to this; it’s a desire that I can’t explain, overwhelmingly strong. Something that makes me push harder, try harder and go further with each and every hunt. We are up at 4 am, get breakfast made and hit the trail, we have several miles to hike in before daylight and we can start hunting. This is the hard part, not enough coffee and trying to hike in the dark down a game trail in the backcountry. Stumbling over rocks in the trail and getting slapped by branches and limbs at the same time. Just as I am starting to doubt myself if this is all worth it the sun begins to rise and I remember why I am here. God’s beauty fills the sky in an amazing sun rise, words could never describe how beautiful it is, with renewed energy we take off down the trail. I notice the guys checking out tracks ahead and talking real low, so I check them out myself to see why they are not telling me what they see, it’s a mama grizzly and two cubs prints, fresh and we just passed them. That would be why they kept it quiet, not to sure I want to bump into a mama griz and her babies in the dark!! No time to argue we have a ways to go yet, but even still we start spotting at the first open
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hillsides we see, searching for the blond spot that would be the illusive elk. I spot one but after glassing it we decide to keep on trucking and let him grow a few more years. After cresting the next hill we stop to glass again and see a few more elk in the distance. We glass for a while and decide even though there is a nice bull it is several miles of steep country and we haven’t even got to our favorite spot yet. So we head off around the hill hoping we made the right decision. It wasn’t long till we spot some elk feeding in an open meadow along the tree line, we creep up close enough to get them on film. It is so amazing to me to be able to capture them in their natural environment with-
out being detected. Two calves jump and buck within 50 yards of us, one cow glanced our way suspicious but stayed, I filmed as long as I could before the guys
wanted to move on and spot a big bull. As we trudged on over another hill ground birds flew up under us as if asking “What on earth are you doing here?” Giggling silently I follow the guys while enjoying every aspect of nature along the way. It wasn’t long before I see Randy wave his hand to motion me down, instantly my heart starts pounding, I know he has a bull but I am not in position to see what kind so I watch Randy’s face, he seems content with what he sees and is figuring out what to do now. Since its Archery Season we have to be very close. Randy starts to cow call first and gets the bulls attention, then he gets me beside him with the camera and starts to Bugle, its do or die
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now. But it works, the bull is curious as to what Bull would be crazy enough to challenge him and starts our direction. I get the camera on and pray I can get this shot on film, Randy positions himself for a shot and continues to bugle. The bull is within 100 yards, 75, now 50. He is literally screaming in my camera, Thank God for a tri-pod because I am shaking like a leaf. As if a shot of adrenaline takes over the huge bull closes the distance to 30 yards and Randy lets the arrow fly. Score!! Not just for Randy but I got it on film too, Thank God. We are both shaking and giving thanks; hugs and high fives are exchanged while we wait for the bull to go down. No worries there, the bull ran 75 yards and was down. What an incredible adventure, I actually love to film the hunt as much as to be the hunter. Now the work begins but we are so Thankful for another successful hunt.
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Pronghorn Persistence By Jeannie Wallen My pack was heavy as I crawled through the grass to gain better access to my target. Being careful not to let the bipod on my rifle hang up on anything, I inched my way to close the distance. I planned a downwind approach as the area was very familiar to me. The animal I was stalking was completely unaware of my presence. I needed to get into position and get him into my sights. After avoiding the sprinkler heads and flower pots, I had my crosshairs aimed on the kill-zone! Breathe, relax, aim in, and squeeze the trigger. The only sound was the click of the firing pin on the empty chamber of my rifle. The impala that I was aiming at never made a move. But of course it couldn’t, this was a mounted impala from a previous African hunting trip that I had placed in my backyard to practice with for my long awaited pronghorn antelope hunt.
INFINITE PATIENCE: Jeannie Wallen of California waited 16 years to draw an antelope tag, then hunted Lassen County where she dropped this pronghorn at 550 yards.
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For me, preparation would be key to make this a successful hunt. Sixteen long years of application after application finally resulted in me drawing an antelope tag in my home state of California. I wasn’t about to waste that very coveted tag. I was darned serious about making the most of my hunt. After receiving the tag in the mail, I immediately started my research and went into training with the determination of an Olympic athlete. For weeks I hiked with a weighted pack in the hills and ridges near my home. I wore my hunting boots almost all the time, running in them, climbing stairs, and everything else I could think of to be ready for my hunt. I practiced stalks at home in my yard and on public lands as part of my regimen, as were many trips to the gun range and hours of estimating distances. I pretended that cattle were antelope and learned to gauge distance by picking out an animal on a hillside, estimating the distance and then verifying it with a rangefinder. I wanted my eyes to do the work so I could be ready at all times. My homework didn’t stop there though. I read everything I could get a hold of about pronghorn hunting. I made numerous phone calls to California wildlife biologists, gleaning much needed information on the area that I would be hunting. If ever a huntress was prepared to hunt pronghorn, it was me.
Persistance paid off for Jeannie Wallen of California. The huntress proudly holds her 15 inch trophy pronghorn antelope taken with her Weatherby .270 rifle at 550 yards. She hunted in Lassen County, California
odds of decent game could be found. My map of the area was pure gold and I continued marking it with solid information from a variety of sources.
Persistence paid off for me, and after several days of not seeing the animal that I wanted, a local rancher delivered the information that I needed. After asking him if he had seen any big bucks around, he said, “I just saw a real big buck, back aways near a windmill.” I looked him in the eyes I come from a long line of hunters in my family and said, “are you sure?” I had sifted through inand my husband is a hunter as well. I have hunted formation from other sources with a grain of salt in the United States and in Africa and have a home and I sensed this fellow was telling me the truth, full of game mounts. Needless to say, I am a very and I was right. serious huntress. I am a member of Safari Club International (SCI) and an official measurer for the organization as well. I would like to think I am a darned good shot too! At last it was time to go hunting! My husband Dan and I headed for Lassen County up in Northern California. We were in hopes of seeing herds of antelope kicking up dust as they thundered through the high desert plains but instead found small groups of animals and bucks that were not the trophy I was looking for. We did lots of driving and found more small bucks and I did some practice stalks on them and had the pleasure of knowing I had them dead to rights in my crosshairs. We continued our homework in the field asking other hunters and locals from the area where the best
The vast open sagebrush prairie in Lassen County California, where long shots are needed to hunt antelope.
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One, two, three cattleguard crossings and a left turn onto a dirt road. The rancher said to keep driving until we got close to the area with the windmill. I immediately spotted several doe antelope feeding in the sage on the vast prairie. No buck though! We drove very slow as not to spook them thinking the buck could be nearby. All of a sudden the majestic buck stands up in the open plain of sagebrush. “He’s mine”, I said! Surrounded by miles of flat prairie, just getting out of the truck could spook the buck into the next county. “He’s the one,” I whispered. I snuck out of the truck with my rifle ready and I set up for a shot. My husband wasn’t too optimistic, at 550 yards he didn’t think the buck could be hit. For me, I had no doubt! Using a leather covered sandbag as my shooting rest, I had only seconds to make my shot count. I faced the task with calm determination and confidence. Aiming high on the neck, I repeated my backyard routine: breathe in, hold and squeeze the trigger. The sound of my Weatherby .270 was followed by a distinct thump as the bullet hit the animal. The buck staggered and tried to run but didn’t get far before falling to the ground. His head was still up
and I took a second shot to finish him quickly. The 15 inch buck scored 78 7/8 and is now a shoulder mount hanging in my family room with five deer mounts. This is the room where the deer and the antelope play. By Jeannie Wallen Antioch, California
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By Teresa DePalma
As I expressed in my previous article, the vast amount of emotions that I feel when preparing for the oh’ so anticipated fall season is well beyond words but I did my best. Describing ones emotions is not always easy but when trying to do so, if the description includes the “why” you feel what you do then you can only hope that someone with the same passion has some understanding of that emotion.
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So to continue my roller coaster of emotions.. As I set peacefully in the tree stand breathing slowly to take in all that I just experienced in the venture to get to that moment, the sun starts to illuminate the area surrounding me minute by minute. My heart starts to race and suddenly the coldness I might have felt due to usual brisk fall morning is slowly turning to warmth. That hour from where you can see your hand in front of you till the full blown daylight seems like only seconds from tree stand. Now the anxiety is overwhelmingly apparent. “Anxious” for what is lingering in the still dark bushes and tree lines. “Attentive” as I try to distinguish between the shadows that are immediately surrounding me. “Overwhelmed” with the sounds of wildlife awaking to the light. The sound of footsteps through the leaves on a dusk morning is enough to get you “overwhelmed” even without the other sounds but you mix it all together as you are starting to see further and further every second then “Overwhelmed” is putting it mildly on the ol’emotion meter, a hunter feels…well at least for me. “Nervousness” as I am the poster child for “buck Fever” and know that the first sight of a big buck, could lose a tad bit of composure and forget all the proper stealthlike techniques that I practiced all year in preparation for that moment.
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Once I distinguished bone from branches and set my eyes on what I believe to be a mature buck, the emotions shift to… “Determination” for I now know that I am in the moment that I have worked so hard to get to and will do everything in my power to accomplish what I came to do. “Confident” that all of the effort, energy and time I had put into that hunt or leading up to it, that I am able to take down this well respected sought after animal, on my own. “Patience” as every hunter knows the shot you make is only as good as the placement of the hit and as a bow hunter, distances and shot angle are my priority so without patience, bow hunting is almost impossible. As I draw my bow back, I can’t help but to feel an overwhelming amount of “Power” for not only putting faith in myself and taking that risk that so many choose to not take but for the simple
fact of knowing that I am about to take a shot that I had waited to take for an entire year. As I am at full draw with that buck in my sight and my heart beating out of my chest, I can’t help but to feel like it is the first time every time. The roller coaster of emotions as I stated before is so apparent each and every time I draw on an animal that it truly feels as if it is my first hunt. I believe if hunting is your passion and someone puts their whole heart into it, they can’t help but feel the same exhilaration that I do. I could be wrong but I believe every true hunter out there has their own whirlwind of emotions doing what they love and it is exactly why we all do it. Stay tuned as I will do my best to analyze my feelings and emotions on the release of an arrow and taking down my sighted animal... Teresa DePalma
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CONQUERING AFRICA’S BLACK DEATH WITH ONLY A BOW AND ARROWS BY JOELLA BATES
Jakes and I pose with my magnificent Cape Buffalo bull arrowed on May 10, 2001. It has been 12 years since I made my first trip to Africa to bowhunt, but the memories are still etched firmly in my mind. I want to share some highlights from that first African adventure with you. It is the trip where I made history by becoming the first woman to successfully bowhunt Africa’s Black Death – the African Cape buffalo.
my sleeping bag and the Smith & Wesson .357 laid by my pillow. Bedsprings were wired across the opening of our roundaval for a door.
The story begins on Tuesday, May 1, 2001. Jakes Grobler met me at the Johannesburg airport. He and his brother Zak and Zak’s wife, Louise of Itaga-Motsumi Safaris of South Africa were my guides From 300 yards, the lion’s roar penetrated my for the Cape buffalo hunt. body and forced every hair to stand erect. In two minutes, I undressed, soaped, rinsed, dried, and At Orion Ranch, we spent two days preparing me redressed, then joined the gang by the fire. Ten for African hunting, and then we traveled to the minutes later, Zak and Louise got scalded by the Itaga camp. That night, we decided to hunt buffalo shower water from the same bucket. in wild tribal lands near the northwestern border of Kruger National Park. That night, Vippie, the English rat terrier, slept in
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The last dinner before the visions begin. Zak, Louise and Jakes Grobler help me fulfill my first African Dream – that of taking an African Cape Buffalo with only a bow and arrows
boys, Cape buffalo bulls that had left the herd: one older broken-horned bull and a very aggressive bull. It didn’t matter to me which bull, I was just ready to see a Cape.
The infamous shower that I am using when the lion roars sending me through the shower in record time.
We watched the giant full moon rise over the African landscape, but a short time later, our spirits sank. Pete Matebula had spent three days meeting with officials but had been unable to get a definite answer or the permit.
On day four, we drove from Itaga to tribal lands near Zimbabwe and Kruger Park. We camped at an abandoned guard station on 30,000 acres of unmapped unfenced land adjacent to the Park. Tribal leaders had invited Zak and Louise to bring me there for my hunt. Situated a stone’s throw from the Park fence, we used a large open air tent and two permanent roundavals, 15 foot diameter round earthen buildings with thatched straw roofs, for shelters. The river had washed away a section of the fence. Two weeks prior to our arrival, a renegade elephant had ransacked the camp and driven out the guards.
I meet with tribal leaders to discuss hunting buffalo on their lands with my bow. The government is reluctant to issue me a permit allowing me to bowhunt, so we abandon the tribal lands for a concession near the Mozambique border.
I earned the respect and the nickname Magic, after smashing lifesaver candies to powder with my bow. The leaders promised to obtain the permit from Nature Conservation that would allow me to That night, the lions closed in on camp. At mornlegally hunt the Cape buffalo with a bow and aring, we packed up camp and traveled to a conrow on their land. cession near Malelane where a prearranged permit awaited us. This concession bordered Kruger on On Monday afternoon, we found fresh, still steamthe southeast near Mozambique. ing, buffalo dung. Villagers spoke of three dagga
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On day nine, Louise spots the first buffalo at 9 AM, but the ghost disappears. Soon, we spot a large herd of buffalo, but cows and questionable winds force a retreat. From the Land Cruiser, we encounter a larger herd of buffalo. Jakes climbs out and I follow. I ape-crawl and move from the truck to Jakes. My heart pounded in my throat and my pulse deafened me with ringing in my ears. Finally, I’m 40 yards from a big Cape buffalo bull, but no shot chance. By day’s end, my intimidation of buffalo was reAn abandoned roundaval that was used for housing by Kruger Park placed by admiration and respect. I can and will guards prior to the elephant attack a few months make the shot count. I am also comfortable and before our hunting trip. confident that my professional hunters will hunt away on the opposite bank of the ditch. We folhard and keep us safe. lowed behind the bull, but retreated when he enter the dark bush. We skirted the meadow and waited for Zak and Jonnie. Jakes, Louise, and I heard a commotion then saw the bull at 15 yards behind a two inch hook thorn tree and my Spot Branch. Camo don’t fail me now. I visualized the bull stepping from behind the huge tree on my right. I draw my bow and as he steps out; his heart will be mine. Instead the bull bolted from Zak and Jonnie. I drawed my bow, but a running shot at a Cape buffalo was not an option. My sleep was interrupted by a vivid recurring vision of the buffalo looking me eye to eye as he stood haloed by the sun. Blood-shot eyes stared at me as heavy drool steadily dripped from his Late afternoon, we spot a lone dagga boy in a mouth. Each time, I awoke in a sweat. marshy meadow. Jakes, Louise, and I wade across the knee-deep canal water then leopard-crawl to At 4 AM, I bathed, dressed, and applied face paint. inside 30 yards of the bull. We cannot see the bull. Breakfast was coffee and a rusk. I kept thinking of the vision. Would reality be the dream? Zak and Jonnie watch from the levee. Crouched in the grass, Jakes reminds me not to move, not to My head pounded all day. Maybe the headache talk, not to scream, not to scream, and again don’t was from the stress of time running out or exhausscream. I tell him I know, “Don’t scream.” tion from not sleeping? Jakes and I discuss the equipment that I will use to bowhunt Black Death.
I visualize the finish of this encounter just like my coach, Dan Hart, had taught me. With the sun glaring in my face, I prepared for the shot. In my mind, I saw a clear sight picture with the pin centered in the peep on the buffalo’s heart.
Early on, we intercepted the herd, but gusting swirling winds put us in danger of becoming trapped in the herd and them spooking into a stampede. We retreated.
I closed my eyes and rested my pounding head The Land Cruiser disturbed the bull. He got up. I on my bow’s top cam and I prayed for God to let still cannot see him. Finally, he appeared 45 yards us see a buffalo. We rounded a bend and there
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lay two dagga boys. Louise shook me awake. She said, “Here he is.” Jakes jumped from the Land Cruiser and we followed. For 45 minutes, we kept following them. Finally, it happened. The bigger bull looked straight at us with his heart open. Jakes told me NOW. I drew the 85 pound Mathews Ultra II effortlessly and aimed.
In the end, the bull let out seven death bellows as he bid farewell to me, his worthy opponent, according to the African natives.
The entire hunting party with my Cape Buffalo bull.
I thought draw, aim, and shoot. Finally, Jakes said, “Let it go.” And, I did. With my sight level bubble buried to the right and both my 20 and 30 yard pins centered in the peep and on the buffalo’s neck at the junction with his body, the arrow flew. I watched the arrow appeared behind my pin and hit the buffalo square in the chest. The bull whirled to my right and ran with his head down and tail flipping. Blood squirted from the arrow wound and left a 12 inch trail. A million pounds were lifted from my back and the headache was gone. At 4:10 PM, I had placed the lethal arrow into the heart of the Cape buffalo and made history as the first woman to successfully take a Cape buffalo with only a bow and arrow, but we had to recover him.
I hugged his huge neck. Afterwards, Jakes told me I could yell NOW. And, I finally let out a loud celebratory Tennessee Yahooooooooo!!!!
The postmortem autopsy showed an arrow channel 3/4 through the top heart chambers. No other arrows would have been necessary had darkness not been a factor. But, the lessons learned from the other three arrows are valuable for other hunters pursuing Cape buffalo. The second arrow went in about 12 inches but slid between the ribs and skin, never entering the body cavity. The bull was lying down when the third and fourth arrows were shot with marginal penetration of four inches past the ribs. The broadhead remained in a single piece, but the blades were damaged. Many thanks go out to Bodoodle for being the primary sponsor on this Big Game Adventure. Other sponsors include: Feather Vision, Heartland Guide and Outfitters, Muzzy Products, Raven Ware, and Sure Loc Sights.
Seventy yards later, we found the whole arrow covered in blood. The buffalo was down in 200 yards; however, he ran into the dark bush when spooked by the tracking dog. Jonnie, the Nature Conservation Officer, advised us to spot him from the back of the vehicle rather than on foot. We feared that lions or hyenas would eat him if he were left until morning. We spotted the buffalo lying with his head outstretched. I shot three more arrows before he expired.
Mopani worms are a major source of protein for the African natives
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