Adventure Into the Unknown

Mark took this Central African Savannah buffalo on his third trip to the CAR.
The buff was no match for a Freedom Arms .44 Mag. and Buffalo Bore ammo.

Handgun hunting often provides considerable adventure. At times, the pursuit takes hunters to unique, not-so-friendly environments in hopes of taking elusive, challenging game. Exploits like these offer the adventurous hunter experiences not soon forgotten.

Several years ago, I ventured into the Central African Republic — truly wild Africa. The largest African antelope, the Lord Derby eland, was the primary target. After a charter flight over endless jungle canopy punctuated by a dirt runway landing, we began an unforgettable hunt.

The area was most remote, in the middle of nowhere, with camp consisting of grass-thatched huts. A five-gallon bucket with holes in the bottom served as our shower. No running water, no electricity, no amenities, but plenty of snakes and army ants. I asked for a Diet Coke and the professional hunter (PH) responded, “Do you see anyone in this country that needs Diet Coke?” Well, I guess water would be fine.

Karen and trackers stop for a well-deserved break.

Hard-Core Hunting

Despite anti-malaria medicine induced discomfort, we would drive down somewhat of a road looking for tracks to follow. These huge-bodied eland can walk forever. And if ever spooked, they usually go over to the next zip code before slowing down. The temperature reached 106 degrees every day before noon. We had four trackers and one guy dedicated to carrying five jugs of water — you can’t drink enough of it. If we couldn’t locate fresh tracks from the road, we simply took off into the bush hoping to cut fresh spoor.

The PH advised me to bring a small caliber for guinea fowl and duikers. My good friend and T/C guru, the late Ken French, had T/C’s Custom Shop make a .22 Hornet for this purpose. After a few days of hunting, the Hornet provided fresh meat — which we needed badly.

Covering miles in extreme heat was the daily norm and the eland remained elusive. Our normal day was 10–12 miles, but one “death march” covered 17 miles. If nothing else, this hunt was a great weight-loss program.

After 12 days of grinding it out, we came away empty handed. The PH wanted me to return in a couple of months and I was stupid enough to agree. When I returned home, I had lost around 20 lbs., experienced gastronomical infection and looked like Hell. My close friends thought I had cancer.

A giant forest hog taken with a .44 Mag. will make any handgunner smile.

Glutton For Punishment

Somehow, I managed to talk my wife in returning with me. She can’t be very smart either. When we landed in Bangui, Karen asked, “Why are French military personnel around every corner?” It wasn’t the ideal time to inform her — risk of terrorist attacks in the CAR during recent times was classified as “Very High.”

The camp was the same — and so was my luck. Karen was in the “bathroom” when army ants invaded. Not good! We hunted for a solid week before I finally scored on a huge Lord Derby eland — on my 19th day of hunting. I had worn out a brand-new pair of New Balance tennis shoes on this quest. I wish the story ended here, but it doesn’t.

The nearby river had swollen to the point we couldn’t get to the dirt runway. We loaded up two Toyota trucks with all the staff and supplies and headed toward a village with a serviceable runway. The “roads” were really more like trails. One vehicle broke down beyond repair, so all supplies and staff were crammed into one vehicle. The first night we slept on the ground under the stars. Food was in short supply with fresh, clean water not far behind. The second day we had seven flats. Luckily, we had a bicycle pump and repair kit. During the second night, under the stars, we enjoyed trail mix for dinner. I thought it was kind of romantic; Karen, not so much.

On the third day we crippled into the village and stayed at a Catholic mission. The next morning fog prevented the charter plane from landing on schedule. Knowing there is one flight per week back to Paris, my wife about lost it thinking about being stranded another week. Fortunately for me, the fog lifted, and we made it back to Bangui for the flight to Paris.

Handgun hunting has its share of thrills. Thankfully, I still have a wife!

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