A new partnership will help more students learn about hunting and fishing in school.

Above: First-time hunters in the Outdoor Adventures program on a duck hunt at a ranch near Sherman, Texas. All four are students at Southlake Carroll Middle School in Southlake, Texas. Photo courtesy of OTF.

Major donations from the Weatherby Foundation International and Safari Club International Foundation will help the nation’s leading provider of in-school outdoor education – the Outdoors Tomorrow Foundation (OTF) – make its unique Outdoor Adventures (OA) program available to more schools across the nation and get more kids outside.

“This new partnership initiative with the Weatherby Foundation International and Safari Club International Foundation will play a vital role in helping OTF reach its goal of being in 1,000 schools by 2023,” said OTF Executive Director Sean McLelland.

Thanks to the nonprofit OTF, based in Dallas, tens of thousands of kids in big-city schools are getting a full-fledged education in the great outdoors. Students get a physical education credit for taking the class, and in every school where it’s offered, demand to get into the class is high. The Outdoor Adventures education program is offered in more than 620 schools in 39 states nationwide, teaching over 60,000 students each year.

The Weatherby Foundation donated $50,000 to further OTF’s participation in schools. “The Outdoors Tomorrow Foundation is one of the leading organizations working toward expanding youth outdoor education and furthering wildlife conservation efforts worldwide,” said Weatherby Foundation president Ricardo Longoria. “The Weatherby Foundation International is a proud partner and supporter of the organization and its mission.”

Weatherby joins Safari Club International (SCI) Foundation as the latest major donors to OTF. SCI’s mission of ensuring the future of wildlife through conservation, education, and hunting, aligns closely with OTF.

“Both of these outstanding organizations share our passion and commitment for educating the next generation of outdoorsmen and women, so that they will appreciate, respect, and conserve our wildlife, wild spaces and our outdoor heritage,” said OTF Board Chair Ricky Fairchild. “We’re so grateful for their support in furthering our mission.”

The Outdoor Adventures program offered by OTF is a fun, interactive course where students are taught lifelong skills using an integrated curriculum comprised of math, science, writing and critical thinking. Detailed lesson plans cover angler education, archery, hunter education, boater education, orienteering, survival skills, camping, outdoor cooking, challenge course, backpacking, mountain bike camping, paddle sports, rock climbing, shooting sports, CPR/first aid and fauna, flora and wilderness medicine.  The curriculum teaches students about the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation, and provides a hunter safety certification.

Learn more about this great program here: https://sportsafield.com/2020/an-outdoor-education/

To find out how to bring the Outdoor Adventure curriculum to a school near you, go to gootf.com.

Leave a Comment

Some of the cartridges developed in recent times are great—but many are simply redundant.

Photo above: A very mature Georgia whitetail, taken with the Springfield Waypoint in 6.5mm PRC. The 6.5mm PRC is ballistically similar to the old .264 Winchester Magnum, but in most rifles with equal barrels is likely to be more accurate.

As we grow older, it’s almost axiomatic that we become more like our parents, whether we wish to or not. When I was a young writer, it seemed that the older writers were all curmudgeons (some lovable, some not!), while the younger crew quickly embraced the new whiz-bangs. Jack O’Connor was among the more outspoken in pooh-poohing brave new cartridges–especially the magnums that grew in popularity in his later years. He remained quite happy with his .270s, and the 7×57 and .30-06.

Still, in a 1960s letter to Bob Chatfield-Taylor (of the .416 Taylor), O’Connor listed the rifles he currently owned–including 7mm Remington Magnum and .300 Weatherby Magnum! Younger writers have probably always been more lavish in their praise of new cartridges than old-timers. It’s probably natural that younger people more readily embrace new stuff, while older folks are more skeptical. Also, of course, younger writers are hungrier, and more desperate for something to write about.

In a business with no mandatory retirement, gunwriters continue until infirmity dictates. So, it wasn’t so long ago that I was a younger writer, and I relished a new cartridge that gave me something to write about. In the quarter-century from about 1980 I was involved in most new cartridge introductions. Through the 1980s and most of the 1990s it was a trickle, and many of the introductions were exciting, such as the .35 Whelen (1988); the resurgence of the .416 (both the .416 Remington and .416 Weatherby Magnums in 1989); and the .260 Remington in 1997.

Then, in just a few years from 1999, came an astounding spate of short, long, extra-short, and fat-cased unbelted magnums. There were full-length Remington Ultra Magnums, Winchester Short Magnums, Short-Action Remington Ultra Magnums, Winchester Super Short Magnums and, a couple years later, the Ruger Compact Magnums. Among them, I make it fifteen fat-cased unbelted factory cartridges of various case lengths, all carrying the “magnum” moniker. Boy, did we have a lot to write about!

Cartridge design today is well advanced; it’s unlikely for engineers to make genuine mistakes in performance characteristics. And, since most serious shooters have access to reliable chronographs, there isn’t much blue sky in published velocities. So, factory cartridges pretty much do what they’re supposed to. In terms of what they were designed to offer, all of these cartridges are “good.”

However, performance and marketing success don’t always go hand in hand. Shooters have preferences in bullet diameters, velocity parameters, and actions (which require cartridges of finite dimensions). And we all have different recoil tolerances. So not all of us were gonna like all fifteen of these new unbelted magnums. Also, the obvious: None of us could possibly have a need for all of them.

In the early 2000s the procession of new cartridges seemed endless. The American hunting and shooting markets are not unlimited. It seemed unlikely that we could absorb all of these brave new cartridges. Some would prevail, others probably not. I’m pretty sure I predicted this. But, at the time, my job was to write about them, and tell folks whether they did what they were supposed to do (they all did). It was not my job to predict which would be winners and which would be losers. Inevitably, there were both, and several of those unbelted magnums are already gone, with some of the shortest production runs in American cartridge history.

Since then, the flood of new factory cartridges has slowed to a trickle. Except for the occasional flurry, that’s the way it has been for a century, with very sporadic new cartridge introductions. That’s probably the way it should be. Between design, tooling, production, and marketing, bringing out a new cartridge is frightfully expensive. Although there were some home runs in that unbelted magnum blizzard at the turn of the millennium, I can’t imagine the cost.

These days, without a constant flood of new cartridges to write about, guys like me must try to be a bit more creative (or retrospective). I don’t want to be curmudgeonly (like the older gunwriters I grew up with!), but I tend to think we have about all the centerfire cartridges we really need, and there’s a lot of redundancy in performance. Hmm, maybe I am becoming a curmudgeon! Unlike my younger days, in recent years I’ve been slower to embrace new cartridges among today’s slow trickle. And, as a writer, I no longer bombard manufacturers with “me first!” pleas.

In this past year, most uncharacteristically, I have spent a bit of time hunting with several fairly new cartridges, including the 6.5mm Creedmoor, 6.5mm PRC, and .350 Legend. The 6.5mm Creedmoor is certainly not “new,” but its rise to stardom has been recent.

I have been publicly (and curmudgeonly) outspoken in my lack of enthusiasm for the 6.5mm Creedmoor. I will not reverse myself. It’s a wonderful example of performance redundancy: Ballistically, it is almost identical to the .260 Remington, and similar to the old 6.5x55mm Swedish Mauser. That is not damning with faint praise: Both the .260 and 6.5×55 are great little cartridges. However, especially in these days of pandemic shortages and political uncertainty, there is much to be said for popular cartridges (which translates to widespread availability).

I do own a 6.5mm Creedmoor. Great little cartridge, and it offers the advantage of a short, efficient case so, in short actions, it does well with longer, heavier bullets. Because of this, and with the inherent burning efficiency of shorter (and thus relatively fatter) cases, it is probably a better long-range target cartridge than the .260 Remington or the older European 6.5mms. At medium range it is not a better hunting cartridge, and (at least in my opinion) none of these milder 6.5mms carry enough energy to reliably take big game at long ranges.

Depending on size of game and one’s personal definition of “long range,” the faster 6.5mms definitely do. As we know, there is now a spate of them. In part, this is because the Creedmoor’s popularity awakened new interest in the 6.5mm, and bullet selection has greatly expanded. I haven’t used all the new 6.5mms and I probably won’t. But I’ve used several, including the fastest, the 6.5mm Weatherby Magnum and 26 Nosler. This fall, I’ve used both the 6.5mm PRC and the proprietary 6.5mm SST (Sherman Short Tactical). Both (if I can be forgiven a curmudgeonly comment), are ballistically similar to the old .264 Winchester Magnum, introduced in 1958 and hovering on obsolescence. Honest, I had a passing thought that I should rechamber my .264 to a newer case design. Fortunately, the impulse passed! My .264, with a great barrel, is very accurate. And, built on a rare left-hand Santa Barbara Mauser action, it feeds perfectly. It would probably shoot as well with a modern case design, but feeding could be an issue, and not worth the risk.

Unless you’re a serious rifle crank, non-standard (wildcat or proprietary) cartridges are problematic, but the 6.5mm PRC is interesting, with a short, efficient unbelted case, intended for use with today’s long, aerodynamic 6.5mm bullets. This fall, I’m using it in a Springfield Waypoint, a super-modern “tactically inspired” rifle that shoots great. Performance is, well, no different from what I get from the archaic .264, roundabout 3,000 fps with a more-or-less 140-grain bullet. I figure this to be the 6.5mm “sweet spot,” much better downrange performance than is possible with the Creedmoor and its ilk, but not as much muzzle blast and recoil, and not as finicky as the fastest 6.5mms.

Winchester’s .350 Legend is a classic “purpose-driven” cartridge, intended for use in the (now five) important whitetail states that allow “straight-wall” (and thus relatively short-range) centerfire rifle cartridges in lieu of traditional shotguns with slugs (and muzzleloaders). It is sized to be adaptable to AR platforms, and also other actions. The many American .35-caliber rifle cartridges have traditionally used .358-inch bullets. The Legend uses slightly smaller 9mm bullets (which were standard in European rifle as well as handgun cartridges). This allows manufacturing efficiency, and also lower cost practice ammunition using 9mm pistol bullets.

Larry and Erin Tremaine brought a .350 Legend AR to our Kansas farm last year and took multiple does with it. I haven’t personally used the Legend for deer, but I’m applying in Iowa (which now allows straight-wall cartridges), so I have a Mossberg Patriot in .350 Legend. Although not as fast as the .358 Winchester, it’s faster than the famous old .35 Remington, neither of which would be allowed under straight-wall-cartridge rules.  So, I have a Mossberg Patriot in .350 Legend, and I’ve used it to take several wild hogs, very effective.

There are many brave new cartridges I haven’t used, and I certainly won’t get around to all of them. But I’m still willing to try new stuff–provided it makes sense.

Leave a Comment

Getting caught out in an unexpected snowstorm, whether you’re on foot or in a vehicle, is no joke.

Photo above: Winter is a beautiful time of year, but getting stuck in a white-out can be deadly. Photo by Vic Schendel

Snowstorms can blow in fast and hard. In the mountains, thick, wind-driven snowfalls can quickly cut visibility to a few yards or less. Travel–whether on foot, horseback, or even in a vehicle–can be slow, dangerous, or completely halted. Trails and roads become impassable. It’s very easy to get lost, even in familiar country, and if not lost, then simply stranded and forced to survive the harsh elements.

On the plains, screaming winds can blow snow more sideways than down. There are fresh-snowfall blizzards and blizzards of whipped-up ground snow, and often there is a mixture of both. “Pouderies,” they called these terrible white-outs in the Old West fur-trapper days. There are also “northers,” sudden wind-blasts that seem to appear out of nowhere and turn snow crystals into blinding pellets. Steep temperature drops, severe windchill factors, and a lack of protective cover add to both the misery and danger of being “caught out” in open country. 

From autumn into winter, in the mountains and on the plains, snowstorms are responsible for a high percentage of search-and-rescue efforts involving lost or stranded hunters. Most of these hunters end up enduring some pretty grueling ordeals before they are rescued. And of course, some don’t make it. A few hunters survive the experience in pretty good shape. These are the comparative minority who started out well-prepared for a possible snowstorm emergency, and who knew what to do when it occurred. 

Although anyone can be surprised and overtaken by a sudden storm, it’s worth noting that often, dangerous snowfall blasts announce their approach well ahead of arrival. Not only does the sky show signs of an incomer, but the storm itself might appear in subtle or obviously progressive stages. Smart hunters maintain an alert weather eye and read environmental clues–such as thickening or darkening clouds (especially those showing increased vertical height and blackened, roiling bottoms), changes in the direction or force of the wind, signs of a falling barometer, and of course the first, possibly light appearance of snowflakes. By accurately reading the weather you can sometimes get a jump on storm arrival and either head immediately for safety or at least locate the best possible place to hunker down and withstand the storm’s brunt and duration.

But let’s say for one reason or another you are caught out, and suddenly realize a bad storm is roaring in, or perhaps has already hit. The initial and vitally important decision is: Should you try to push on anyway, braving the elements while staggering toward ostensible safety, or should you shelter up and ride it out? The best choice depends entirely on the specific situation, but more often than not it’s a mistake to flounder on in low-visibility, high-danger conditions. Too many bad things can happen, and your chances of getting lost, exhausted, frostbitten, hypothermic, or outright killed rise substantially. The exception would be when you know for certain that safety can be reached with a comparatively short, physically plausible effort. Otherwise, at the first sign that you’re caught in a serious storm, it’s generally best to shift into survival mode.

Step one is to survey the surroundings. Where and how can you escape, or at least minimize the brunt of the elements? In a snowstorm this means getting out of the wind and staying or becoming dry. Wind chills can be deadly, and even an imperfect windbreak makes a difference. With any increase in wind exposure, the rate of personal heat loss is exponential. For example, an 8 mph wind whisks away four times more body heat than a 4 mph wind. As for the effect of moisture, you can lose body heat as much as 30 times faster if your skin and clothing are wet. So the need to avoid wind and stay dry is paramount.

Natural windbreaks include thick copses of trees, hollows beneath large conifers, large boulders or rock formations, caves, ravines and (in open country) any kind of trench-like “cut,” coulee, or arroyo. The very best sites are also close to a source of firewood or other easily gathered fuel.

In some circumstances, once you find a good natural windbreak, there will be time and materials to fashion an emergency shelter. In other cases the best you can do is get out of the wind and wrap up in whatever air-and-moisture barrier you have on hand. This could be a tarp, space blanket, hooded parka, rainsuit, heavy-plastic trash bag, and so on. Insulation of various kinds (dry dead leaves, grasses, man-made materials) can be stuffed inside the wrap and also inside your clothing to help retain warmth.

In very open country, such as the northern plains, the only way out of the wind might be by digging a deep, narrow trench in the snow, lining its bottom with whatever insulating or water-resistant materials are on hand, and lying down inside, literally beneath the blowing storm, while you wait for it to pass over. This is hardly pleasant, but many people, including plains Indians and frontiersmen, used the tactic to survive when other, less savvy individuals stayed above ground and perished.

In any type of terrain, if you locate a good wind-and-snow-break and have ample fire fuel on hand, you can survive a storm simply by building a large fire (making it longer, not taller, to warm more of your body) and positioning yourself between the fire and a heat-reflecting surface such as a boulder, rock wall, or the metallic side of a space blanket.

When time and materials allow, the optimal strategy is to fashion an emergency shelter, especially one combined with a warming fire. Shelter-making is a huge subject, but a few basic tips can be helpful. First, unless you’ve trained in shelter building, go for the simplest possible construction. One example is the basic lean-to. Start with two sturdy 3- to 4-foot sticks sharpened and driven into the ground on an angle so that they cross at the top, forming a V. Then use a 6- to 8-foot stick/branch for a ridgepole, resting one end inside the V, angling the remaining length down to the ground. Lash these tight if possible. A tarp or space blanket can be draped over this frame and pegged down to make an open-faced shelter (facing away from the wind). Seal the base area, where the tarp meets the ground, with packed snow. Additional snow can be packed up the walls to aid insulation. (Lacking a tarp, layer in branches, conifer boughs, and other natural materials to form the sides and top of the shelter, then seal everything off with a tight packing of snow.) The ground inside the shelter should be insulated with whatever dry material is available. If a fire can be built near the mouth of the lean-to, all the better. 

For modern hunters, the dangers of a snowstorm or blizzard exist not only in the field, but also inside our motorized vehicles. Getting storm-stranded on a highway or back road can be its own kind of life-or-death survival situation. The most important thing to remember if you have to shelter in a vehicle during a snowstorm is that carbon monoxide (CO) poisoning is a real danger. About 1,500 people in America die in their cars each winter from CO poisoning, usually while stranded and running their engines and heaters to stay warm. When drifting snow (or packing from a slide-off) clogs the exhaust pipe, fumes back up and leak into the interior. Odorless CO kills people before they even realize they are being poisoned. So rule number one: check periodically to be sure your exhaust pipe is cleared of all snow. 

Next, when a storm is raging, stay with your car unless help is clearly reachable. Bundle up to stay warm, and run the engine and heater in ten or fifteen minute intervals to preserve fuel. If fuel runs out, the vehicle might not remain your best shelter, but it can still be a source of lifesaving resources. A hubcap can be used to dig a snow cave or trench, or it can serve as a dry fire-base. Dipstick oil soaked into a rag or paper makes a good firestarter. Maps can be rolled tight to serve as kindling. Slash open seats and use the foam for insulation to be stuffed inside coats or boots. Floor mats can be wrapped around your torso, legs or feet; or they can be used as insulating, waterproof ground pads for an outdoor shelter. When cold-storm strandings are a possibility, it’s smart to prep your vehicle with a shovel, a winter-rated sleeping bag, and a pair of lightweight snowshoes for each person aboard. Add an axe and some pre-split logs in case you need to rely on an emergency outdoor fire.    

When dangerous snowstorms hit, those who have the good sense to “be prepared” generally fare best, with the least misery and injury. Where I live in the Rockies, even mid-September can be snow time in the high country, and from October on, both the mountains and the plains are fair targets for northers, snow dumps, and even white-out “pouderies.”

For me, essential equipment (in addition to a standard survival kit) includes: an overkill of firestarters (matches, lighters, candle stubs, home-made tinder, commercial fire cubes, metal-match “sparking” device); a lightweight shelter tarp; at least one metallic-sided space blanket; four heavyweight yard-size plastic trash bags (for extra wind and moisture protection, vapor barriers, etc.); a large metal cup and spoon (for snow-melting water and emergency cooking); a lightweight, plastic digging tool (to aid emergency shelter-building); a 25-foot roll of parachute cord; commercial hand and foot warming packets and insoles; spare wool socks; a balaclava or similar head and neck covering; gloves and/or mittens, and a “food sack” containing high-energy protein bars, packets of dried soup and a wide-mouthed plastic bottle of energy-enhanced, extra-crunchy peanut butter. If I’m going to suffer a night or two out in a snowstorm, I’m going to suffer as comfortably as possible.

Leave a Comment

International travel may be out of the question this year, but you can still put together an interesting late-season hunting adventure.

Covid-era travel restrictions continue to be devastating to the hunting industry worldwide. Outfitters, guides, PHs, travel agents, taxidermists, shippers, camp staff, and wildlife are all suffering. With international travel mostly prohibited, we are left to innovate. Many are rebooking to 2021 and beyond, but that leaves the remaining fall and winter hanging like a fat plum. How should we pluck it? 

By all accounts, U.S. outfitters have been swamped with clients looking to replace canceled hunts. Still, it’s worth a try: call your favorite outfitters or hunting consultants, and you may find an opening for a late-season hunt. Last-minute cancellations are always a possibility. Otherwise, get ready to return to those thrilling days of yesteryear when a hunting adventure meant a road trip, a do-it-yourself camp, and self-guided hunting. 

Hundreds of thousands of hunters plan and execute their own trips each year. It seems that right now the public land/backcountry hunt is “in.” On TV shows and YouTube, celebrity hunters are challenging each other and themselves to see who can carry the most, hike the farthest, climb the highest, and cook the finest venison. This is a marked improvement over the “drive and shoot from the truck” ethos of too many hunters decades ago. Bravo to those dedicated, tough young hunters, but if you’re an old-timer, don’t feel as if DIY hunts have passed you by. Not too many years ago I had the pleasure of sharing an elk hunt with a guide who was in his early seventies. I couldn’t quite keep up with him! He’s now in his eighties–and still climbing the mountains.

The biggest stumbling block to any DIY deer, elk, or black bear hunt these days is limited tags. Very few western states still sell over-the-counter non-resident tags. Some states, however, hold late-season depredation hunts to alleviate deer and elk pillage on private farms and ranches. There are also Midwestern and eastern whitetail hunts, and a few bear hunts, as late-season DIY options. 

One destination to consider: Texas. Texas has almost no public land hunting, but its private ranches offer the widest variety of big game in North America. Much of it is behind fences, but some of those fences are so far apart that the game itself probably hasn’t seen them. New Mexico allows landowners to sell big-game tags, so you might try there. Hawaii is a good bet for axis deer, mouflon sheep, and Spanish goats. (At this writing, travelers to most islands in Hawaii may bypass the state’s mandatory quarantine with proof of a negative Covid test, but be sure to check for the most recent requirements.)

Another overlooked big-game hunting option: Alligators. Check out our southern states from Texas to Florida. And as long as you’re looking south, don’t forget feral hogs. They can be hunted year-round in many states, with no limit. Do Mother Nature a favor and help trim the hogs. 

Should you fail to put together a late-season big-game hunt, set your sights on birds, waterfowl, and small game. South Dakota, Nebraska, and Kansas pheasants are always a good bet. Southwest desert quail are hit or miss depending on recent rains. Check with fish and game agencies. If bird numbers are up, go. In addition to enjoying good hiking and shooting, you might discover a new pronghorn, Coues deer, mule deer, or elk destination. 

Ducks Unlimited reported good nesting conditions across much of Canada this spring, so waterfowl numbers should be good to excellent. By November 10^th, the northern mallards are pouring into South Dakota. Snow geese usually precede them by a week. Canada geese? They’ve gone from rare trophies to darn near vermin in my lifetime. If you can’t put together a Canada goose hunt, you aren’t trying—and seasons in many places extend through winter into early spring. 

Finally, there are squirrels and rabbits. Don’t laugh. During the first half of the twentieth century, these were the two most commonly hunted species in the U.S. Much of the reason was because big game hadn’t yet recovered from the overharvest of the previous century. But plenty of the reason was because stalking squirrels and cottontails is quintessential hunting. These days it’s lonely, too, because so few indulge. Slip a handful of .22 Long Rifle shells in your pocket, tuck a sub-MOA rimfire rifle under your arm, and stroll into the hardwoods, watching, listening, and calling for gray and fox squirrels. I’ll bet you’ll forget all about your missed kudu and buffalo hunt–for a few hours, at least. 

Small game hunts have the advantage of no tags to draw, large bag limits, and delectable dining. Who knows? Without the worry and hassles of travel, you may rediscover the simple joys of uncomplicated hunting the way it was done back when sportsmen and women merely walked out the back door, loaded up, and started hunting.

Leave a Comment

Rowland Ward joins other conservation groups in taking a stand against the shooting of captive-bred lions.

Rowland Ward Ltd. has united with several highly regarded international conservation groups to take a firm stand against the practice of captive-bred lion shooting.The shooting of lions bred in captivity not only has no conservation benefit, but also it is extremely damaging to the reputation of hunters and to sustainable hunting around the world.

Last month, the International Council for Game and Wildlife Conservation (CIC) and Dallas Safari Club’s (DSC) published a joint statement on captive bred lion shooting. Today Rowland Ward Ltd., the International Professional Hunters’ Association (IPHA), the African Operators’ and Professional Hunters’ Associations of Africa (OPHAA), and the African Professional Hunters Association (APHA) have joined as co-signatories to the statement, which you can read below. 

Leave a Comment

This new optic is Leica’s first long-range riflescope with 6x zoom.

When it comes to accuracy at a distance, long-range shooters can rely on the uncompromising technology of the new Leica PRS 5-30x56i riflescope. Its generous magnification range of 5x to 30x offers many uses for both competitive settings and long-range sport shooting and hunting – at extended distances and under the most difficult conditions. Maximum optical performance gives a shooter high light transmission (>90%), and high contrast images while maintaining increased eye relief and color fidelity, giving the shooter the ability to concentrate fully on the target in any conditions. The reticle’s large adjustment range in the first focal plane also gives the shooter the ability to shoot at extended ranges.

Both the elevation and windage turrets exhibit well-defined tactile clicks that are accurate and precise throughout its entire range. Thanks to tool-free zeroing of the turret, precision sport shooters can react quickly and flexibly to different conditions. What’s more, the shooter can either activate the “zero stop” function or configure it individually, adapting the riflescope to custom requirements without the need for additional tools.

The functional design of the PRS 5-30x56i is also geared to the needs of long-range shooters: Made exclusively of robust metal components, it is extremely rugged while maintaining mechanical precision.

Features include:

6x zoom for flexible use during long-range sport shooting and competitions 

• 32 mrad (>100 MoA) adjustment range of the reticle in the first focal plane 

• tool-free zeroing of the turret scales, onboard tool for “zero stop” 

• extremely rugged, high-quality workmanship maintain mechanical and optical precision 

• multi-turn elevation turret with rev indicator 

Learn more at us.leica-camera.com.

Leave a Comment

A quest for a very old dagga boy in the Zambezi Valley.

“A buffalo hunt has been a lifelong dream of mine,” said seventy-eight-year-old Frank after introducing himself to me at a recent Dallas Safari Club Convention. “I’m told you’re Mr. Buffalo, so can you please help me make it happen?” 

What a nice request this was. For the greater part of my professional life, the conservation, management, and sporting pursuit of these formidable black bovines has been my passion.

“I’m of the opinion, Frank, that a buffalo hunt should be more than just a quest for a unique animal,” I told him. “Instead it should be a wilderness experience where the search for a nice, battle-scarred old dagga boy will involve other unique, and therefore special, African experiences. Having to dodge elephant cows and their calves, or bumping into lions while following buffalo tracks, should all be part of the hunt. Also, no buffalo hunt is complete without its nights being disturbed by the grunting of hippos, the giggles of hyenas, the roaring of lions, and the wood-sawing rasps of leopard calls. Many miles of following buffalo spoor should leave you both exhausted and amazed at the skill of African trackers. And you should get the opportunity to track, stalk, and look over numerous bulls before finding the right one. This is what a proper buffalo hunt is all about. The area I have in mind will deliver all this from a tented camp on the banks of the mighty Zambezi River, with its own unique scenery, sounds, and spectacular sunsets. If you’re seriously interested in what I suggest, it’ll be my pleasure to make your dream come true. I know the perfect safari area because I’ve hunted buffalo there many times, and I know well the PH and outfitter who’ll make it all happen. I can assure you, you’ll not be disappointed.”

Frank liked my African wilderness experience suggestion, so I took him to meet Buzz Charlton of Charlton McCallum Safaris, or CMS for short. CMS is, in my opinion, as good as it gets when it comes to such matters, and as I expected, Frank and Buzz hit it off immediately. Frank ended up booking a ten-day buffalo hunt in Zimbabwe’s Nyakasanga Safari Area in the mid-Zambezi Valley for September 2019.

Frank then confessed to a problem: His left knee was in bad shape and in need of replacement, something he was reluctant to have done before the hunt. But if he wore a knee brace and walked slowly, with the aid of a hiking pole, and if the terrain was not too hilly, he reckoned he could, with some prior training, manage the required six to eight miles of daily walking. The other problem was his rifle. Someone would have to carry it for him, because with his wonky knee, he could not. This was when I happily offered my services. In exchange for the opportunity to return to one of my most favorite hunting areas, I would gladly become Frank’s rifle-bearer. 

It is often said that the planning and preparations for a buffalo hunt are as enjoyable as the hunt itself.  Being at the DSC convention was a bonus because it enabled us to start the process right there and then. In short order, a suitable rifle, a Winchester Model 70 Super Express in .375 H&H, and scope, a 1.5-5X Leupold VX III, were secured. Next on the list was ammunition, so we visited Lonnie Cribb of Superior Ammunition at his booth he was contracted to load 350-grain North Fork SPs for the initial shot, to be followed up with 350-grain Cup-Nosed Solids if backing shots would be needed. Next it was off to African Sporting Creations for a pair of Courtney boots, ankle sock protectors, and leather rifle and binocular slings. My last job was to introduce Frank to Debbie Gracy of Gracy Travel. Debbie would handle Frank’s flights to and from Harare and the paperwork for his rifle. To avoid the hassle of taking a firearm through South Africa, Buzz suggested that Frank fly to Harare via Dubai on Emirates Airlines. This Frank did, and it proved a good decision.  

Over the intervening months, Frank and I stayed in regular e-mail contact. His fitness/walking program progressed well, and soon he was walking the required daily distance with ease. September eventually arrived, and I flew to Harare to be there when Frank arrived on the evening Emirates flight. Buzz’s business partner, Myles McCallum, was at the airport to meet us and take us to our overnight accommodation, Amanzi Lodge. After his long journey, Frank was exhausted. We had a couple of Zambezi lagers, a good steak dinner, and went to bed early because Myles wanted a 6:00 a.m. start the next morning.

Our flight from Charles Prince airport to the Sugar Estates airstrip at Chrundu was uneventful. From the air, it was easy to see how desperately dry the Zambezi Valley was. All the inland pans were empty, which meant the wildlife had only two options for their daily water requirements: the Zambezi River itself or a couple of remote springs at the base of the escarpment. Buzz was at the airstrip to meet us, and within an hour we were at the fly camp CMS had set up for us on the banks of the Zambezi, a mile or so upstream from the mouth of the dry Nyakasanga River.

The term “fly camp” is somewhat misleading. Our tents were large and spacious, each with a comfortable bed and ensuite shower, basin, and flush loo. Set under large, shady trees, the camp provided all the creature comforts needed for an extended stay in such a remote location. There was even a fishing boat for evening drifts for tigerfish.  

Our drive into camp confirmed Buzz’s initial comment, “We’ll be spoiled for choice because there are buffalo everywhere.” This was evident–the spoor of buffalo herds and small groups of bulls were seen regularly, crossing the dirt track which runs adjacent to the Zambezi. It took only two shots, one with each bullet type, to confirm that Frank’s rifle was dead-on at 100 yards–the ideal sighting-in distance for the relatively close-range shots for which the Zambezi Valley, with its thick bush, is famous. 

Around the campfire, Buzz, Frank, and I had some interesting discussions regarding buffalo trophy quality.  Having recently spent five years at the Southern African Wildlife College where I had the opportunity to conduct a research project comparing the herd dynamics and trophy quality of two adjacent buffalo populations, one of which was hunted and the other not, my focus these days concentrates on the genetic sustainability of trophy hunting. My research proved conclusively that it is simply not sustainable to continually hunt better-than-average, trophy-quality bulls before they have had the opportunity to breed, or while they are still of breeding age. About this, Frank was suitably convinced, so we set an interesting challenge for his buffalo hunt: to find the oldest, most characterful buffalo in the Nyakasanga.  

So numerous were the small groups of bulls drinking along the river that for the first time in my extended buffalo hunting career, we were able to follow three or even four such groups a day. This was because Buzz and his two trackers each carried handheld radios and GPS units. Having radio communication with Eddie, our ever-smiling driver, made long walks back to the Land Cruiser after unsuccessful hunts unnecessary. After each hunt, Eddie would collect us at the closest road, and while driving to these collection points he would scout for additional bull tracks. This saved lots of unproductive walking and allowed us to follow many bulls. During the hunt we eventually tracked, stalked, and evaluated more that forty different bulls–a truly wonderful experience.

There are many who believe that because buffalo bulls are on their own or in small groups away from the herds they are post-breeding-age dagga boys. This is not the case. Breeding-age bulls, eight to eleven years of age, leave and rejoin the herds on a regular basis as their body condition and strength fluctuates. Dominant herd bulls have a hard life, constantly having to be on guard duty from both predators or rivals. They graze at the back of the herd on trampled grass or leaves, and don’t spend enough time resting and ruminating, and this causes them to lose weight. When too much body condition is lost, herd bulls leave the breeding herds for some R & R.  This is when they regain their strength in preparation for the fights that will ensue for social dominance come the next breeding season.  

Bull buffalo get more massive with advancing age. To compensate for this, their front hooves, which carry the majority of their weight, grow bigger. Old bulls also tend to drag their front feet as they amble along, and over time this wears flat the leading edge of their front hooves. Because of this, I believe it possible to age a buffalo bull pretty accurately just from the size and shape of his forefeet tracks. 

We were well into the hunt when we found the tracks of the bull we came to call Bigfoot. So large and unique was this bull’s right front foot track that one of the trackers commented, “There is now a giraffe in the Zambezi Valley!” The front edge of Bigfoot’s track was worn flat, and he was a loner. All this indicated an old bull past his prime. We followed his distinctive tracks with enthusiasm, and what a fantastic hunt it turned out to be.  

Thanks to a steady breeze blowing from the east and the dry, dusty conditions, we were able to track and then stalk Bigfoot as he slowly limped his way through the jesse, feeding on its fallen leaves. Bigfoot was not putting any weight on his right front leg, and when I eventually got a glimpse of his impressive body size, his blunt-tipped horns, and well-developed chinlap, I realized he was indeed something special. He was also almost completely bald. Bigfoot was a very old bull and I initially aged him to be at least in his thirteenth year. He was just the type of bull Frank was looking for, and as a bonus, he was totally unaware of our presence.  

Buzz guided Frank in close and got him set up on the shooting sticks. They then patiently waited for Bigfoot to offer a shooting opportunity. It is customary for buffalo to graze into and across the prevailing wind in a meandering, zigzag fashion. They do this so moving air currents will alert them to the presence of lions up ahead. This is exactly what Bigfoot did. He eventually zigged to the left, exposing his shoulder as he did so. This was the moment Frank had been waiting for, and his shot was well placed. The heavy-for-caliber North Fork did its job perfectly. 

Hard-hit, Bigfoot only managed to hobble a few paces before turning to expose his right shoulder. At this, Frank fired a backup shot and Bigfoot simply dropped to the ground, all of which was caught on camera by the hunt’s cameraman, Justin Drainer.   

That Bigfoot was old was obvious. My initial estimation of him being at least thirteen was conservative.  When I eventually got to measure his lower jaws and two first molar teeth, and then age him with the Taylor method, he turned out to be well into his fourteenth year. In the Zambezi Valley and similar areas where predators occur, very few buffalo make it past fifteen years of age, so Bigfoot was close to the end of his natural life. What a bull he must have been to have survived for so long with a broken metacarpal bone, the reason for his limp and his exceptionally large front hoof–testimony to the toughness and tenacity of these incredible bovines. Frank sure was successful in his quest for the Nykasanga’s oldest and most characterful bull; Bigfoot ticked all the boxes, and then some.     

Leave a Comment

Old traditions vie with new trends in the world of big-game cartridges.

Because hunting involves so many traditions, many hunters, especially those of a certain age, tend to avoid “trendy” rifles and cartridges. Many hunters older than fifty prefer wood-stocked rifles—which seems appropriate not only because rifles normally had wood stocks during the first 400-plus years of their existence, but also because of Woodstock, the 1969 music festival that, for better or worse, partly defined the generation the now includes older American hunters. 

This doesn’t mean the generations split neatly. As an example, I’m at the younger end of the Woodstock generation, but along with plenty of hunting rifles with wood stocks, a third of my collection has synthetic stocks, and barrels chambered for trendy twenty-first-century cartridges. 

However, some of my similar-age friends would never consider a cartridge born after Woodstock. One really likes the 7×57 Mauser, mentioning his affection so often some of his other friends suggest he was around when it appeared in 1892. He claims to like the “panache” of the 7×57, a word some hunters of his generation use when bragging up their antique choices.

However, if they actually knew the specific history of the word, they might not. According to the dictionary, panache originally meant a “tuft or plume of feathers, often worn as a headdress, or on a helmet.”

The same dictionary lists panache’s modern meaning as “flamboyant confidence of style or manner,” as in “he entertained in Palm Springs with great panache.” But my friend doesn’t connect the 7×57 with feathered headdresses or Palm Springs parties. Instead he believes the 7×57 imbues him with confident style, perhaps inherited from famous 7×57 fans James Corbett and W.D.M. Bell.

Like other hunters who obsess over such things, he scorns the 7mm-08 Remington, a post-Woodstock cartridge duplicating the ballistic performance of the 7×57. He points out there’s no point to the 7mm-08, since the 7×57 has been doing the same things far longer. Why use a panache-free imitation?

I’ve also used the 7×57 in places from Alaska to Africa, taking fifteen species of big game with it including caribou, elk, moose, kudu, wildebeest, and one of my two biggest-bodied mule deer, an Alberta buck. Yet the 7×57 never gets mentioned as a good choice for hunting big Alberta mule deer, whether by Internet experts or Alberta outfitters. Instead suggestions usually start with belted magnums, due to the size of Canadian bucks and possible longer shots on the high plains. (My buck fell at just under 300 yards.)

Lately, however, I’ve grown fonder of the 7mm-08, even though its ballistics are indeed exactly the same. Why? First, because it’s easier to buy brass for handloading in a wide variety of brands. Second, and perhaps more important for a traveling hunter, any 7mm-08 factory ammo works similarly in any 7mm-08. This is not true of the 7×57.

Like many early smokeless cartridges, the 7×57 originated as a military round, and like all early smokeless military rounds, it featured long, heavy, round-nose bullets. Consequently, the original chamber throat was very long. Later on, lighter spitzers became popular, and 7×57 chamber throats shrank (as they did in many other cartridges of the same era). 

Even modern factory rifles can have throats varying from short to very long. I know this because I’ve owned American factory 7x57s with throats varying in length from .375 inch, the industry standard listed by the Sporting Arms and Ammunition Manufacturer’s Institute, to so long the case neck barely grasped the rear end of a 160-grain spitzer seated near the lands. And the 160-grainer had to be seated near the lands, or the rifle wouldn’t shoot worth a hoot.

Because of this wide variation, 7×57 handloading data also varies widely, whether developed for older or “modern” rifles. Factory ammunition also varies (when you can find it), whether American or European, so you can’t always be sure it will work well in a particular rifle. Oh, and then there’s the 7x57R, a rimmed variation for break-action rifles, generally loaded to lower pressures than the rimless 7×57. The same things are often true of other cartridges that appeared until around 1905, including the 6.5×55 Norwegian-Swedish, another highly revered classic. 

Perhaps the most varied is the 7×57’s big brother, the cartridge generally known today as the 8×57 Mauser. The original cartridge was not chambered in a Mauser rifle, but in the Gewehr 1888 military rifle designed by a committee. It used a 227-grain round-nose bullet, .318 inch in diameter, so Gewehr 1888s had long chamber throats. 

After several years, the rifling grooves were deepened to .323 inch, for reasons involving pressures and barrel wear, and bullet diameter increased to match. In 1898 Germany adopted the Gewehr 98 Mauser, but in 1903 switched the bullet to a 154-grain spitzer, requiring a shorter throat, calling the “new” version the 7.92x57mm Mauser S Patrone. Most of the existing 98s had their barrels set back and rechambered—as did many Gewehr 1888s, especially a bunch Germany sent to its ally, Turkey, in World War I.

The 8×57 became a popular hunting round both in Europe and Germany’s colonies, and of course a rimmed version soon appeared. For some obscure reason most early break-actions for the rimmed 8×57, whether single-shots, doubles, or drillings, had .318-groove barrels, but eventually some appeared with .323 grooves. 

These various 8x57s all had different names, often confusing  Americans despite the supposedly “sensible” metric-cartridge nomenclature system. The .318 version is known today as the 8x57I or 8x57J. The “I” stands for infanterie, German for infantry, but in old German writing it looked a lot like a J—so both letters mean the same thing. The .323 round was called the “S” version, which was added to the I or J. The rimmed versions have an R at the end of the rest of their alphabet.

For even more obscure reasons, I’ve owned 8x57s chambered for most of the variations, including a Gewehr 1888 (which may have traveled to Turkey during its life, since there’s an “S” stamped on the receiver), an 1898 military rifle rechambered for the spitzer load, a Sauer drilling in the .323-groove version of the rimmed round, and a century-old German custom rifle that’s essentially a “sporterized” 98 military rifle with the original long chamber throat.  

While European hunters normally know about these variations and their names, I suspect the younger generation grew weary of them. Having hunted in various European countries for over a quarter-century, with a bunch of different resident hunters, I’ve only encountered a single 8×57 rifle. 

Surprisingly, the single most common cartridge I’ve encountered has been the .308 Winchester. This may seem odd, but after the American military adopted the .308 in the 1950s, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) eventually adopted it as well. As a result the 7.62×51 NATO and the .308 soon became more common than the 8×57—and did not have four significant variations. In a 1996 hunt in Norway (one of the original NATO nations) I came across a barrel full of Remington .308s in a sporting goods store in Bergen, and on two other hunts, both hosted by European rifle manufacturers, I was assigned a .308 Winchester, one an over-under double. While some Americans still refer to the 8×57 as the .30-06 of Europe, it’s not.

In one instance where practicality overcame my traditional tendencies, I purchased a German single-shot, known over there as a Kipplauf (tip-up), specifically for traveling. Like double-barrel rifles and shotguns, Kipplaufs easily break down into three shorter parts: barrel, fore-end, and action/buttstock. These fit easily into a compact travel case, handy in airports and planes of varying sizes, and other vehicles from jetboats to Toyota Land Cruisers, often almost filled with camp supplies. It came from a lineup of Merkel Kipplaufs in the Houston showroom of Briley Manufacturing, which included several chamberings—including a 7x57R. 

But I resisted the temptation and picked the .308, knowing ammo could be found anywhere from Alaska to Africa—and that the .308 worked great on a wide variety of big game, even with cup-and-core bullets, due to its moderate muzzle velocities. In fact, it works just as well as the 7×57, which acquired its sterling reputation when only cup-and-cores existed, whether softnoses with the open end of the cup forward, or “solids” with the open end backward. (Oh, and my Kipplauf extracts very reliably, despite the .308 being a “rimless” case.)

Fortunately, another early military cartridge which got changed from a heavy round-nose to a lighter spitzer never suffered. The first rounds for the 1903 Springfield were loaded with the same 220-grain roundnose used in the .30-40 Krag, but shortly afterward Mauser changed the 8×57 military load to the lighter spitzer. The U.S. Army then switched to a 152-grain spitzer, converting Springfields by setting the barrels back and rechambering them with a shorter throat. This happened relatively quickly, so very few .30-03s still exist. Consequently, all .30-06 ammo works in all .30-06 rifles.

The .30-06’s celebrity career almost matches the 7×57’s, being a favorite of various writer-hunters, including Theodore Roosevelt, who took a converted sporter on his nearly year-long African safari in 1909-10. His “little Springfield” worked so well that Springfield sporters became a national industry, made not only by custom gunsmiths but Springfield Armory. Ernest Hemingway wrote about his Griffin & Howe Springfield many times, most notably in Green Hills of Africa, using it to taking a rhinoceros, among many other animals. A Remington .30-06 was among the four-rifle battery Robert Ruark used in the same Kenya and Tanganyika country Hemingway hunted, and probably the rifle he used most. Ruark eventually gave it to his professional hunter, Harry Selby, who used it far more.

A long list of professional gun and hunting writers have used and often recommended the .30-06 to readers, starting with Townsend Whelen (“the .30-06 is never a mistake”), Capt. Paul Curtis, the shooting columnist for Field & Stream before World War II, as well as  Jack O’Connor and Craig Boddington. I have used it take more big-game animals than any other round, and in fact at one point owned six .30-06s, all in different actions—bolt, lever, pump, semiauto, falling-block single-shot, and a drilling. Eventually, however, this collection got pared down to a single New Ultra Light Arms Model 24, the polar opposite of the Merkel .308.  

But no matter how good or practical it is, eventually many rifle loonies become bored with the .30-06, apparently because despite its illustrious history, the cartridge lacks panache. Today, many dance around the .30-06’s ballistic slot with modern rounds such as the .280 Remington Ackley Improved and .338 Federal, both providing very similar muzzle velocities with similar bullet weights. Ruger even devised a “short” .30-06, the .300 Ruger Compact Magnum. Despite all this, “boring” .30-06s keep selling. (Apparently this makes .30-06 users boring, too. Around twenty years ago in a caribou camp, one of the other hunters asked what caliber my rifle was. When I said .30-06, he said, “I kinda figured you for a .30-06 guy.”)

Another cartridge developed shortly after the .30-06, Holland & Holland’s .375 Magnum, still holds the title of the greatest all-round big-game cartridge, despite being terribly flawed, according to many modern hunters. It not only features one of those antique belts, but the long, tapered case prevents the H&H from being as “efficient” as newer rounds. 

Yet the original keeps going. Rob Klemp, one of my African PH friends, owns a big sporting goods store in Kimberley, South Africa. I sometimes consult him about sporting rifle trends over there, and a few years ago Rob said the .375 H&H remains the leader among “medium bores,” because his customers tend to be traditional. Yet a year or two later he reported that 80 percent of his new-rifle sales were 6.5 Creedmoors, the cartridge many American hunters love to hate.  (Other African firearms dealers, and not just in South Africa, have reported the same trend, which means safari hunters don’t necessarily need to take cartridges over a century old to be practical. Even if they run out of 6.5 Creedmoor ammo, they can easily buy more.)  

In fact, the modern, shorter cartridges have pushed some traditional favorites to the brink of extinction. The 6.5×55 has largely been replaced not by one but two rounds, the .260 Remington and 6.5 Creedmoor, because unlike 6.5x55s, the recent rounds have consistent chamber throats. (This may be why I’ve kept things balanced in my gun safe by with two 6.5x55s, along with one rifle each in .260 and 6.5 Creedmoor.)

As with the 7×57 and 7mm-08, far more of today’s hunters buy .300 Winchester Short Magnums than .300 H&Hs, the century-old ,belted, “inefficient” .300 magnum with just about the same powder capacity and ballistics. In 2007, only five years after the .300 WSM appeared, Rob Klemp had more WSM ammo in stock than H&H. The debate over what’s traditional and what’s more practical isn’t likely to end any time soon.

Leave a Comment

Hunting Coues deer in the desert Southwest tests your glassing skills like no other hunt will.

As decreed by Father Time, my eyes aren’t what they once were. Even so, with long practice, I’m usually pretty good at spotting game. Even without the vision I was once gifted with, experience counts. The human eye seeks movement, the flick of an ear or tail. With long practice, we also seek texture and light reflection, different on hair and horn than leaf and limb. And, when vegetation is vertical, we seek the horizontal of back and belly lines.

I hate it when somebody else sees game first, even the great African trackers, who are magicians. I’ve seen these guys pick up animals—or parts of animals—that I needed 10X glass to resolve. No hunter’s experience is complete–it’s just not possible in this big world–but mine is pretty extensive. I’ve never seen hunting that requires glassing more difficult, more extensive, or more intensive, than hunting Coues whitetails in the desert mountains of the Southwest.

They are small deer, thinly distributed in huge country, neutral gray, in a multi-colored  world of rocks and cacti, with branches, limbs, and stems in any imaginable shape. In Arizona and Mexico, finding Coues whitetails against this difficult background developed into an art form that I have long called “postgraduate glassing.” Mind you, the techniques and equipment are applicable elsewhere.  However, hunting Coues whitetails is a passion and hunting culture centered in the arid mountains of Arizona, where the Master of Glassing degree was created.

For sure, I had no influence in its creation. Nor, in times gone by, or even today, is intensive glassing always necessary. The late George W. Parker was a great hero to me and, in his last years, a friend. Over the course of nearly fifty years, Parker put seven Coues whitetails in the Boone and Crockett records. In Parker’s early days there might have been more deer, but for sure there were fewer hunters. Most of his big bucks were taken by riding slowly through desert hills, jumping deer and getting a shot. My introduction to Coues deer hunting wasn’t much different. I started with legendary Arizona outfitter Warner Glenn and his dad, the late Marvin Glenn. Hunting on riding mules, we stopped often to glass, but most deer were taken by riding slowly, jumping or spotting deer and making a quick stalk for a shot.

A few years later I got a call from a young Arizona fellow inviting me to put in for a Coues deer tag. I drew, and that was the first time I ever saw a binocular mounted atop a sturdy tripod.  It was an eye-opening experience, and we hunted Coues deer together for several seasons. Duwane Adams and I were hunkered under a cedar during a rainstorm in the Galiuros when he asked, “Boddington, if I got a guide license, do you think people would pay money to hunt these little deer?”

Adams has now been a legendary Coues deer outfitter for a long time, often called upon to give glassing seminars. What I learned from him, now forty years ago, is that 10X is not enough. For most of my hunting, and most hunting worldwide, a 10X binocular will do all you need to do. There are many situations where more magnification is useful, but in Coues deer hunting, 10X isn’t enough, and handholding your binocular doesn’t cut it. The country is just too big, and the deer too small and difficult to spot.

Over the years, Coues deer glassing developed as a cult, with 12X, 15X, and 20X binoculars secured to steady tripods as the preferred method. For most of my hunting, I still use a 10X binocular, backed up with a spotting scope on a tripod. The spotting scope is indispensable for judging antlers and horns, but you can’t really glass with it, too much eyestrain from using just one eye. There are spotting scopes with dual eyepieces, and dual spotting scopes. For this kind of intensive glassing we need to use our binocular vision but, as magnification increases, field of view shrinks.

So, extra-powerful binoculars are probably the best tools, but the real secret is the tripod. It isn’t just distance alone; these little deer are hard to see. Regardless of magnification, the stability of a tripod greatly extends your ability to see. The theory is that the deer are there; it’s your job to find them. I don’t claim that I was ever really good at this kind of glassing; it takes extreme patience, dismantling a distant ridge one piece at a time, over and over again.

I fell in love with the Southwestern mountains, so harsh in summer and so wonderful in cooler months. Wildlife is fragile in desert habitat, so Arizona was one of the first Western states to go to across-the-board drawings for deer. In the mid-1980s I got rejected a couple of times. By then I’d become addicted to hunting Coues deer, so I started going to Mexico.

Coues deer are widely distributed in Arizona and in the Mexican states of Chihuahua and Sonora, and just tip into southwestern New Mexico. In Arizona, most Coues deer hunting is on public land. In Mexico nonresident hunting is on private land. The biggest Coues deer have come from Arizona, but my experience is the average is much better in Mexico. For sure, because you’re hunting on managed private land, you see more deer in Mexico. I hunted in either Chihuahua or Sonora almost annually for nearly twenty years. The country and techniques are the same, with glassing techniques imported from Arizona. Down there, too, I had good mentors, mostly Kirk Kelso, a master with his 20X binocular on a tripod.  After a several-year break, I hunted Coues deer in Sonora again in 2018 with Ted Jaycox of Tall Tine Outfitters. Ted’s technique is the same: Big binoculars on a steady tripod, preferably from a comfortable camp chair!

I don’t claim to be good at this painstaking glassing. I lack the required patience, but I have a lot of experience. The reward comes when one of these small, elusive deer shows up in the field of view at some absurd distance. On good ranches in Mexico you see a lot of deer, so even my short attention span isn’t sorely tested.

I’ve enjoyed the Coues deer hunting in Mexico so much that it’s been many years since I applied in Arizona. But sometimes fate throws odd curves. Early in 2020, daughter Brittany and son-in-law Brad Jannenga acquired a cattle ranch north of Phoenix–in time to apply for tags. We drew for a late October season so, suddenly, I was back in the Arizona Coues deer hunting business.

I’d been in Kansas working food plots and intended to swing home before the hunt and pick up a bigger bino and tripod adapter. Didn’t happen, so I wound up glassing with a hand-held 10X binocular. Fortunately, Brad is a good Arizona hunter and had the gear. As did his friends. In Arizona, any tag is a hard-won prize; draw a permit, and you’ll probably have volunteers to help with the glassing. Mike Hughes and Max Nichols, experienced Arizona hunters, were on hand with big glasses on tripods.

Scouting for deer had been far down the priority list in getting the ranch going, so we went in pretty cold, with good knowledge of the terrain but not much on deer. Also, it was October, still warm and very dry. I’d never hunted Coues deer this early, always in December or January. A couple of flowing springs on grazing leases proved the keys.  There were deer, and we found them. Mind you, even when you’re focused on a distant ridge, a deer can pop up anywhere at much shorter range. So, I had a few small victories in seeing deer first, but not many! Honestly, I was so under-equipped that Brad, Max, and Mike had several deer spotted beyond a thousand yards that I never picked up at all with my 10X. More than one vanished before I could get the spotting scope on the right spot. 

We had a seven-day season, and we hunted hard. Some days we saw no bucks at all, but, collectively, we glassed about a dozen bucks, some seen more than once. I got a nice buck on the fifth day; Brad got one a day later. All in all, a pretty good week of Coues deer hunting, and we finished with much better knowledge of the area. If we manage to draw that tag again, we’ll have a much better starting point, and I promise I’ll be using proper optics for this postgraduate glassing.   

Leave a Comment

Re-measuring heads that were originally recorded many years ago reveals that the Rowland Ward system is, and was, exceptionally accurate.

Photo above: This exceptional Marco Polo argali was taken by famous wildlife artist John Guille Millais in 1927. 

The Rowland Ward office frequently receives questions about record heads recorded a very long time ago. Because the Rowland Ward measuring system is very old, the database contains heads that go all the way back to the 1800s. Many especially fine trophies were registered between the late 1890s and World War II. Some of these heads still exist in museums, but others have long since disappeared in the mists of time. Luckily, there are trophy collectors throughout the world who have purchased many heads at auctions to preserve the finest and most unusual trophies.  This type of collection is particularly popular in Europe, and many of the collectors are not even hunters.

The accuracy of the measurements from long ago is always a point of discussion. Were there really elephants with 200 pounds of ivory in a single tusk, and rhinos with 40- or even 50-inch horns?  It is well known that some horns, skulls, and antlers shrink as they age, a process that is influenced by the conditions under which the trophies are kept, as well as the age of the animal when it died.

Clearly, it is impossible to re-measure all of the old heads; however, we do sometimes get opportunities to confirm dimensions recorded a long time ago. Two intriguing animals came across our desks in recent times: the world-record bloubok and a very large Marco Polo argali.

The bloubok (Hippotragus leucophaeus), sometimes called bluebuck or blaubok, was a now-extinct antelope that lived exclusively in the coastal area of South Africa’s Cape. Bloubok were closely related to roan antelope, albeit smaller in body size, the largest mounted specimen being 47 inches at the shoulder.  Why they became extinct is not known, but they appear to have existed in low numbers even before European settlers arrived. Only a handful of specimens are known to science, and all are housed in museums. The world record is in the Naturalis Biodiversity Center in Leiden, the Netherlands. The museum was moved to a new building in 1998, and unfortunately the animal is no longer on display to the general public.  

However, through the efforts of the curator, Rowland Ward was recently able to get new measurements of its horns. The animal is from the 1700s and was obtained near Swellendam. It is not known when it was originally measured for Rowland Ward, but it was likely before World War II. Originally the longest horn and base was recorded as 24 4/8 and 6 3/8 respectively. In 2020, the measurements were re-recorded at 24 4/8 on both horns, with bases of 6 4/8.  

Marco Polo or Pamir argali (Ovis ammon poli) are among the most sought-after sheep in the world. Their horns grow longer than any other wild horned animal, with the greatest ever recorded at 75 inches; only a handful ever have taped over 65 inches. Recently we had an exceptional 1927 head officially re-measured. Collected by quintessential British hunter and talented wildlife painter John Guille Millais, it was recorded in 1928 with a length of 68 6/8 on the longest horn, and bases of 15 inches. When re-measured in 2019 in the UK, the longest horn was 68 7/8 and the base was 14 6/8, for a total score of 226 3/8 taking both lengths, bases, and all quarters.

Finding such small discrepancies between heads measured today versus half a century or more ago gives us great confidence in the integrity of the Rowland Ward measuring system. 

If you are interested an submitting trophies for the 31st edition, go to rowlandward.com for method forms and instructions, or contact Carrie Zrelak at Rowland Ward [email protected].

Leave a Comment