How to prepare for the upcoming hunting season.

Here in North America, most hunting seasons are geared around autumn. We American hunters are accustomed to short autumn seasons that we look forward to and plan around. Many European hunters, on the other hand, enjoy a six-month roebuck season spanning spring, summer, and fall. Some African countries have set seasons and others do not, but ideal times generally trend toward either cooler months or the dry season. But here in the U.S., our long-awaited hunting seasons are almost upon us, and we want to be ready!

GET IN SHAPE. Keeping in condition is probably the most time-consuming item on my list. And, as I’m unfortunately learning, the older I get the more constant effort is required. “In shape” is a flexible term, depending heavily on your age and overall health, and just as heavily on the kind of hunting you want to be ready for. Hunting whitetails from stands is probably the most common American hunting situation. You don’t need to be an Olympic athlete, but you need to be able to get to and from your stand and be limber enough to get in and out safely (if not gracefully).

Mountain hunting on foot is a different order of magnitude, and most everything else is somewhere in between. I’m neither a marathon runner nor a personal trainer (and for sure I’ve never had a personal trainer!), but I can offer a few thoughts. First, being in shape for hunting season is not an exam you can cram for. How long it takes depends on your starting point and the level of condition you wish to reach, but we’re talking regular exercise for weeks, perhaps months and even years. Therefore, it’s best to establish some sort of regimen and stick with it, although you can certainly step up your program as a particularly challenging hunt nears.

Second, always see your doctor before starting a new exercise program, and listen to your body. Muscle soreness is normal, but no matter what you’re doing, work up slowly and don’t overdo it: If you hurt yourself, you’re defeating your purpose and delaying your goal.

Distances, difficulty of terrain, and required load varies widely, but most hunting requires at least some walking, at least a light pack, and usually does not require sprinting or long-distance running. Therefore, I am convinced that walking is the best preparation for most hunting. We walk the dog regularly, and pound some of hiking trails near home in the coastal mountains with packs and hiking poles. These days, I strap on knee braces! In between, I go to the gym, focusing on primarily cardio and lifting light weights. Unfortunately, I travel a lot, and travel plays havoc with any fitness schedule. If I can’t do anything better, I jog wherever I am. This year I ran almost daily while in camp in Cameroon, again in Namibia. You need a safe place, but little space and equipment. Walking is as good and maybe better, but takes longer!

I don’t recommend taking up jogging, certainly not without a doctor’s clearance. However, you have to figure out what works for you. I’m too uncoordinated for team sports, I don’t play golf, and traveling with a bike is awkward. Long-term running is hard on the body but, thanks to the Marines, I’ve run all my life. So, when I’m short on time, I strap on my knee braces. These days, I can’t justify my Forrest Gump shuffle as “running”–but, for the purpose, it’s more a matter of time and distance than speed. Again, find exercise you like to do (and thus can make yourself do regularly). Start early and stick with it.

The shooting bench, with the rifle safe and muzzle pointed downrange, is a perfect place to do a careful inspection. Start by making sure all screws are tight, and finish with a thorough function check.

CHECK RIFLE AND AMMO. This shouldn’t take very long, but it can’t be left to the last minute because: What if there’s a problem? Mechanical problems can happen at any time but, typically, they don’t pop up overnight. So, whether Old Betsy has been in storage since last season, or is an old friend that goes to the range often, this final grace period before hunting season is a good time to do a careful butt-to-muzzle inspection. Make sure all screws are tight: Action, scope mounts, and rings.

Obviously, you want to do this in complete safety, so I follow an important member of the “Ten Commandments of Gun Safety” and treat guns as if they’re loaded when I take them out of the safe and make sure they’re cleared and empty. One of my pet peeves is screw-in sling swivel studs that become loose. The problem with loose studs is they tend to keep working looser. If they pop out when the rifle is slung (and they can), then your rifle is likely to take a hard fall. Screw-in studs can usually be re-secured with Loc-Tite or epoxy.

Visual inspection and this kind of trouble-shooting can be done on your workbench. Much of the rest I do on the range because, unless you’re a handloader and have created dummy rounds, you need to work cartridges through the magazine and into and out of the chamber to do proper function-checking. Made sure that the basic functions of feeding, extraction, and ejection are smooth and trouble-free. Since we’re at the range, actual firing will also be checked.

It’s unusual for something bad to suddenly develop, but it can happen. Extractors, ejectors, and springs can become worn. When this happens either a trip to a gunsmith–or time to locate parts–is in order, which is why this stuff shouldn’t wait until the last minute. Sometimes, however, a good cleaning can fix the problem. Rust can develop in storage, and excess lubricant can collect gunk and inhibit functions.

Boddington does most of his gun cleaning at the range, making sure he includes cleaning gear with his range kit. The only advantage to doing it at the range: After cleaning you can fire fouling shots, and then your rifle is ready to go hunting.

I wouldn’t wish to admit this in front of my old Drill Instructor, but I don’t necessarily clean my rifles every time I fire them. It depends on the conditions, and how many shots down the barrel since the last cleaning. Instead, here’s what I do: I take my cleaning gear to the range for the last practice or zero session before I take a rifle on a hunt. Then, when I’m just about done and I’m happy with the zero and the load, I clean thoroughly on the range. Most rifles put the first couple of shots from a freshly-cleaned barrel to a different point of impact than after the barrel is slightly fouled (which, with my rifles, is a more natural state!). The difference is often slight, but can be a couple of inches. So, after cleaning and when I’m all done, I fire two or three “fouling shots.” Then I’m really done, so I’m ready to pack up.

Except for one more thing. Toward the tail end of that last range session before a hunt, it’s wise to run all the cartridges you’re taking with you through the magazine and into and out of the chamber. Just recently I was in camp with a gent who had a gorgeous rifle. Half his ammo was somebody else’s handloads—and they wouldn’t chamber in his rifle. Yeah, I know how silly this sounds, but obviously it happens. I don’t shoot other people’s handloads, and I don’t loan mine to anyone else. Problems with factory loads are rare, but once in a while you run into a dented case, bad case mouth, etc. It’s wise to visually check all ammo for a hunt, first to make sure everything matches, and then to make sure all cartridges feed and chamber in your rifle.

PRACTICE SHOOTING. Shooting practice really should be ongoing and continuous. As with conditioning, no one can say how much is enough, but nobody can spend too much time practicing. The only caveat to that is don’t overdo it: If you beat yourself up and acquire a flinch it’s gonna take a lot of work to undo it. So, practice smart. With hard-kicking rifles, limit your exposure per range session. Half a dozen or ten shots may be plenty, and twenty is probably too much. Intersperse with a good old .22 or a mild-recoiling varmint rifle.

Much effective practice shooting can be done with a .22, minimizing recoil and cost, and reducing barrel-cooling time on summer days. Everything you need to know about shooting over sticks can be learned with a .22.

A solid benchrest is essential for checking zero and evaluating loads, but in my view shooting off the bench isn’t practice for hunting. Get away from the bench and do as much shooting as you possibly can from positions you might actually use in the field: Shooting sticks, bipods, impromptu rests, and the good old basic NRA shooting positions of prone, kneeling, sitting, and standing. Whatever your hunting rifle happens to be, you need to shoot it enough to be completely familiar and comfortable, but a lot of this practice shooting can be done effectively with a good old .22, with no recoil and little cost.

I love long summer days, when you can start shooting early and stay late if you wish. However, summer heat changes the game. Barrels heat up quickly, and the pencil-thin barrels common on light sporters today heat up very quickly. Accuracy can deteriorate fast, so it’s important to be patient and plan on spending a lot of time waiting for barrels to cool. How long, and after how many shots depends on ambient temperature, bullet velocity, and barrel thickness, but you can’t learn anything shooting a hot barrel. Take your time, and spend more time shooting your .22.

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Is the capybara South America’s most interesting animal?

Among other regrettable traits, I have a terrible addiction to taxidermy. I’m trying to curb it, but I have some pretty cool stuff in my house. Visitors don’t exactly ignore the big cats, the African antelopes, or the sheep and goats, but there’s one animal that, consistently, almost everyone asks about. It’s a life-size capybara, perfectly mounted by the folks at The Wildlife Gallery in Michigan, and it looks like a giant-size guinea pig. Which, in fact, it is!

The capybara, locally called carpincho, is by some margin the largest rodent in the world, potentially weighing over 150 pounds. The orderRodentia, with outsized front teeth for gnawing, is large and diverse. Like the familiar guinea pig and hamster, the capybara has a very short tail and completely oversize head. Size-wise, no other rodent approaches it. Next in size is the paca, also a South American animal, but the paca isn’t even a quarter the size of the capybara. Semi-aquatic, the capybara lives along waterways, lakes, and estuaries from northern Argentina up through the Amazon Basin. It does not extend up into the isthmus of Central America and is not found north of the Panama Canal. Surprisingly, its smaller cousin, the paca, extends into southern Mexico, so is technically both a South American and North American animal. Ground-burrowing and very nocturnal, I hunted paca in Mexico’s Yucatan. It’s an interesting animal (and also very tasty), but not nearly as cool as the capybara.

Hunting always depends on time and place. (Ideally, through planning, you put yourself in the right place at the right time.) However, luck is always a factor, so difficult animals can come easy, and common animals can come hard. The old saying, “never look a gift horse in the mouth” is totally true, but when success comes easy the overall experience suffers, and so does knowledge. So it was with capybara.

Boddington shot this medium-sized capybara in Argentina’s Santa Fe Province in 2008 and had it mounted.

Back in 2008 I was hunting in Argentina’s northern Santa Fe Province with Marcelo Sodiro. Of course, I wanted a capybara. The area didn’t have large numbers of them, but they were certainly present. Early in the morning we hunted along waterways with hounds, hoping to catch capybaras out in the brush. This was fast-paced hunting: When the dogs lit up, the capybaras would head for water, so the game was to race ahead of the chase and catch them before they reached their sanctuary. I shot two that way, one with a buckshot-loaded shotgun and another with my 7×57. Both were good-sized capybaras, and it’s the larger of the two that I have mounted. I agree with my occasional visitors: It’s one of my favorite mounts! However, those two were the only capybaras I actually saw, so that chapter closed with me knowing almost nothing about them.

Most shops in Argentina will have an assortment of carpincho leather products, from handbags and wallets to packs, footwear, and jackets. The distinctive pebble-grained leather is nearly waterproof, usually showing marks from fighting. Capybaras for leather are generally farmed for the purpose, not hunted in the wild.

Well, not exactly nothing. I knew of their affinity for water, I knew their meat is highly prized and tasty, and that their hides make awesome leather that is pebble-grained and essentially waterproof. Carpinchos are widely farmed for both meat and leather, and throughout Argentina (and elsewhere in South America) you can find footwear, handbags, jackets, and more made from their attractive and distinctive leather. Rarely are the skins perfect. Capybaras fight viciously with those razor-sharp teeth. The leather shows distinctive scars, and when we were hunting with hounds I was urged to shoot quickly and decisively to avoid risk to the dogs.

In March 2019 I was again hunting with Marcelo Sodiro’s South American Adventure Safaris, a complex trip that started in the north with some dorado fishing and bird-shooting, and finished down in Patagonia where the red stags were roaring. The second stop was at Malalcue Lodge in the northern Corrientes Province, where my hunting partners and I hunted free-ranging axis deer and blackbuck. Area manager Sergio Wizensky, who I’d hunted with before, let slip that the ranch we’d be hunting was overrun with capybaras.

Most hunting in Argentina is for introduced species, but, subject to seasons, a few native species are still huntable, including brocket deer, peccaries, and capybara. Sergio told me that, if we had time, we could hunt capybaras and perhaps find a really big male. Regrettably, native game can no longer be exported, but I was still intrigued. I wouldn’t have another one mounted anyway—and I wanted to learn more about this strange animal.

It was a sweltering midday and we were fruitlessly stalking blackbuck in tall grass. Rains had been generous and the low spots had formed into small lakes or lagoons. So, sweating and searching for small antelopes swallowed up by the grass, I glassed along the shore of a lagoon and saw the first of a dozen capybaras slipping along the edge. As the day went on we would see more, near almost every pond or stream. The place really was overrun with them! Later that day we got really lucky and shot a very fine axis deer, so the capybara hunt was on.

Capybaras gather in family groups or packs. I count fourteen in this photo, but there were actually over thirty in this pack.

Capybaras typically form into herds or packs; a dozen to twenty is common, but along one swampy area we counted more than thirty in one group. Having never seen them in the wild, I was struck by how rodentlike they really are in appearance: At a distance they reminded me a lot of prairie dogs. Water, however, is constant. They will never be far from it, spending much of their time partially submerged. When alarmed, they will immediately head for deeper water, splashing in much like a pod of hippos.

This was fascinating but, remember, our mission was to find a big male—and that’s where my real education began. When looking at a group it’s pretty easy to tell which ones are larger than most of the others. It’s also easy to see which ones are alone, and which are obviously mothers with young. However, as with many rodents, the females are often larger than the males. Obviously, there are no horns or antlers, and in grass or water, evidence of sex is always completely hidden. Typically, the dominant male will be at the edge of a pack, often a few yards away. However, the only surefire tell-tale sign is tricky: The males have a raised oval bump on the snout just in front of the eyes that the females do not have. With age, this bump becomes more prominent and almost hairless. Marcelo and Sergio have lived with capybaras their entire lives; with binoculars they could instantly pick out a male at two hundred yards. I could not!

On this ranch they are hunted little and were quite calm, and eyesight appears not be their strong suit. Combining these factors, we were able to closely approach several groups. Sergio and Marcelo painstakingly pointed out males, always off to the side, but I had to look carefully at several before I “got it.” The bump is definitely there, but you need a side profile or frontal view to see it, and even then it’s subtle, but once you see it you get the idea.

In this unusual place, finding capybaras was not an issue, so we made a number of approaches, turning down a number of males that were judged too young or not big enough. Fortunately, I wasn’t doing the judging. After a few trial runs I could see the bump, but I needed my local experts to tell me when we found the right one.

We got within a hundred yards and then I stood on sticks for an eternity, waiting for him to turn and offer a shot. He finally did, and he was indeed a very big one. The gauchos were happy: Carpincho is a real delicacy!

A big male capybara, taken in Corrientes Province in northern Argentina. Like bears and boars, the capybara is a dense animal, heavy for its size. I think this one probably weighed about 140 pounds. The nose bump is very obvious on this animal.

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The Hartmann mountain zebra is plentiful in Namibia and parts of South Africa, and is a challenging game animal with excellent meat.

The first Hartmann mountain zebra I ever saw stood alone on a rocky ridge leading up into the heights of Central Namibia’s Erongo Mountains. I can still see the dry wind whipping its mane, and in my mind’s it’s a stallion, defying us before turning to join his hidden herd. But maybe it was a lone mare–with a quick glimpse at a couple hundred yards, it’s hard to be certain!

That was forty years ago and it didn’t matter; a mountain zebra wasn’t a goal the first time I hunted Namibia and wasn’t in the budget anyway. I had taken plains zebras elsewhere, and a zebra is a zebra, right? That’s a typical assessment for folks hunting Namibia for the first time, especially if they’ve previously hunted in other African countries. Although normal and understandable, I think it’s a huge mistake to write off Hartmann mountain zebra as “just another zebra.”

The Hartmann’s zebra is larger, with a distinctive striping pattern that, to me, is more beautiful than the plains or “common” zebra. Facial stripes are usually brown, darkening with maturity, but body stripes are stark black and white, without the gray “shadow stripes” of Burchell’s zebra, southernmost race of plains zebras. Older individuals, especially males, tend to have a pronounced dewlap, and all mountain zebras have a distinctive and attractive triangular pattern of stripes above the tail called the “Christmas tree.”

The triangular “Christmas tree” rump marking is distinctive of the mountain zebra. This big stallion was taken in the Erongo Mountains in central Namibia.

The two mountain zebras (Hartmann and the smaller Cape mountain zebra) are a separate species (Equus zebra) from the several races of plains zebra (E. quagga). In Southern Africa game ranching has moved animals around for decades, so the mountain and Burchell zebras frequently bump together. One could theorize that this also happened naturally, with Burchell zebras in the valleys and mountain zebras up in the rocks. The two are not known to interbreed.

Just a couple weeks ago I was in Kaokoland in northwest Namibia, big, rugged country. It was ideal mountain zebra habitat, and they were plentiful. We were headed back to camp after a morning hunt, still hoping for a zebra for leopard bait, when we spotted a small group resting in shade along a rocky canyon. Outfitter Jamy Traut took Dan Baker on a quick uphill stalk. A few minutes later we saw the zebras as they spooked over a ridge. The hunters soon came back shaking their heads. They were Burchell zebras, not usually present in the area, and not on quota.

In good light the common zebra’s shadow stripes are apparent, but there’s another tell-tale sign, and the fastest way to tell the two apart: On mountain zebras the vertical body stripes come to a point and stop and the belly is pure white; on plains zebras the body stripes come all the way around the belly.

All zebras are beautiful and wary and difficult to stalk, with keen senses. I think the mountain zebra’s black-and-white skin is more attractive than the Burchell zebra with its prominent shadow stripes. However, farther north there are other races of common zebra with stark black-and-white striping that are equally gorgeous.

What sets the mountain zebra apart is the fact that it really does prefer mountains, and offers an entirely different hunt. Sure, you may find plains zebras quite far up in hills and you can catch mountain zebras crossing valleys. In their native habitat of tall, rocky ridges the mountain zebra offers a genuine mountain hunt, a matter of diligent glassing and careful stalking—and, often, a lot of hard work!

Glassing for mountain zebras in typical habitat in Namibia. In natural habitat like this Hartmann zebra offers a true mountain hunt, a wonderful experience.

The second time I hunted in Namibia I remembered that lone zebra I’d seen, and I put a mountain zebra at the top of my wish list. In those days Namibia’s safari and game ranching industries were in their infancy and all species were less plentiful and more localized than today. Mountain zebras were scarce and pretty much restricted to high, remote areas. Getting one was a tough and difficult hunt that I have never forgotten. Today mountain zebras are plentiful and have expanded (both naturally and through introduction) across most of Namibia, except that from Etosha and on northward and eastward, the plains zebra dominates.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve hunted elsewhere and already have a zebra rug. The mountain zebra is different enough, and offers a different enough experience, that I strongly recommend hunting one when you’re in their domain—especially if it’s native habitat. The spine of the Erongo range is still superb mountain zebra country, but there are other great places. A few years ago, Donna and I hunted southwest of Windhoek, where the high escarpment drops into the Namib Desert, creating a moonscape of boulder-strewn ridges and deep canyons. Mountain zebras were plentiful, great country for glassing and stalking. Just now we found much the same conditions in Kaokoland. Excepting big herds of springboks in the valleys (and excepting that out-of-place herd of Burchell’s zebras), mountain zebras were the most plentiful large animal. Hunting them offered a great experience but, in the midst of what might be a hundred-year drought in Namibia how they manage to thrive is a mystery. In one area we knew of nosurface water nearby. Dan Baker shot a huge stallion, the largest-bodied zebra I’ve ever seen. Its stomach was full of water, so obviously the animals knew the area better than we did!

Hartmann mountain zebra occurred naturally from arid southwestern Angola all the way south through Namibia, discontinuously following mountain chains and tipping over into South Africa’s Northern Cape. From there it probably extended into the Western Cape and eventually morphed into the once-endangered Cape mountain zebra. Although definitely smaller, the Cape mountain zebra is visually indistinguishable from the Hartmann mountain zebra, same markings, same habits and preferred habitat. Thanks to intensive efforts, the Cape mountain zebra has recovered and can be hunted, but it cannot be imported into the United States.

Mike Birch and Boddington with Boddington’s first South African Hartmann zebra, taken near Kimberley.

The original range of Hartmann zebra in South Africa isn’t precisely known, nor, after the excesses of the pioneering era and the ravages of the Boer War and its long aftermath, is it known exactly where Hartmann left off and the Cape mountain zebra picked up, with recent DNA research showing little difference between the two. In the past I’ve considered the Hartmann mountain zebra a Namibia specialty, and thus hunting them in South Africa a bit of a travesty. Well, you don’t know what you don’t know. On the way back from Namibia I spent a few days with outfitter Mike Birch near Kimberley, a part of South Africa I hadn’t seen in decades. The tall, rocky hills were ideal mountain zebra habitat, and I have never seen such a concentration of Hartmann mountain zebra.

The first morning I climbed a tall hill to glass without realizing Hartmann’s zebra were present. I quickly picked up a small group on the next ridge, saw the stripes, and realized what I was looking at. There was another group down in the valley and more to the right and left. Without changing location, I lost count at forty.

A couple of days later, after a long and difficult stalk with Mike’s excellent tracker, Albert, I shot one, but it took a step as I fired and I knew the hit was a few inches back. Any wounded zebra is bad news, and this one took us across the valley and up the next ridge. The spoor suggested entry and exit and showed lung blood. I was sure we would find it quickly and we did, precisely on the top of the next mountain! We called for help, rolled the zebra into a tarp with handles, and carried it whole a half-mile down through the rocks. The guys suggested that, next time, I should shoot my zebra in the valley, not on the top! My aching back agreed, but one way or another, a zebra is always recovered. The skin is priceless and the meat is quite good. For those who care, mountain zebra flesh is leaner and tastier than plains zebra. We all keep learning, and now I realize it doesn’t much matter whether they’re hunted in Namibia or South Africa. The Hartmann mountain zebra is still my favorite.

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