I've always wanted to repeat hunting on the Caucasus because was attracted by hospitality of the locals, stunning beauty of nature, careful and sensitive animals and the landscape where It was so hard to walk. After a while you forget how hard to hike in that mountains, how many times have you fell and you remember the best moments of your trip only.
This year I became the happy owner of the additional barrel for Blazer caliber 6.5х 55. I read feedbacks of people who had it already and came to the conclusion that didn’t hear bad words about it. It’s accurate, lethal and with the light recoil together with the light rifle. I thought that I had the ideal rifle for hunting in the mountains. I practiced shooting on the plain up to 500 meter and started to hit the target of A4 format by two bullets. Moreover, my knee, afflicted me last time, and prevented from hunting in the mountains, had recovered. So, I decided, the time to visit the Caucasus had come. I called Bilan Dzhatdoev- the director of the Karachay-Cherkessian hunting farm and agreed to arrive in Nevinnomyssk in a week where he’d meet me and drive to hunting. I was going to take two trophies of Caucasian chamois and Kuban tur. Bilan waited for me on the station and suggest to carry my luggage to the car but I refused. The first impressions of him was tall, fit, educated and endearing. We arrived to the agreed place where changed our car to the car of his deputy Magomed Gigeevich - a very colorful personality. He was a real highlander as I imagined them, very experienced guy and the interesting companion. My future guide Vladimir Kukota had already waited for us near the shop. We bought meal, we needed for a week, and drove to the hunting base. After the accommodation I went to test the rifle. After I was satisfied by the result we moved for hunting.
First day we hunted for chamois. The hunt took place in the highlands covered by thick forest. We climbed to the highest point and started to monitor the surroundings. I was surprised by the bears’ density. We saw five of them during one hour. Going down to the Base we came across the group of chamois which cross the road in 50 meters above us. Voloday shouted to shoot to the first one and I throw up my rifle but the multiplicity 18, I set before we left the camp, didn’t allow even to see it on such distance. Thus, the fist hunting day was over!
The second day started in another hunting ground, more open with lots of snow and strong wind. I was impressed to see deer in that conditions. We were checking the gorge after a gorge and even found the female chamois with a baby. It has really good horns. The shooting distance was 275 m, no wind. It was the perfect situation to make the ideal shot. But it had a baby. We discussed with Vladimir that the baby wouldn’t survive without its mom in the winter time. I abandoned to fire. We examined the new places but didn’t find anything. Later when we were going back to the car my guide told me that couldn’t believe we didn’t see chamois though there were many of them in the past years. Soon we saw the answer, there were big lynx tracks on the snow.
The third hunting day began very early. We went back to the area where we hunted the first day. Vladimir was sure in our success in spite of the large number of bears. We rose the top and detected the group of chamois. The animals noticed me while I was taking the comfortable shooting position and ran away. But one of them hid behind the tree. The rangefinder showed 165 meters to the aim. I shot and the male reared up, jumped from the rock and disappeared in the bushes. We didn’t spend much time looking for it and soon I became the owner of the first trophy. It was not as good as the first one but it was the labor trophy and I was proud of it.
The fourth day was devoted to the hunting for the Kuban Tur. The hunt was organized in Malay Agur district. The ascend was tough. There were lots of snow and slippery rocks under the feet. We stopped each 20-30 m to have rest and to breath. We had walked long distance when Vladimir spotted the lonely tur in 640 m form us. We began to approach the male and reduced the distance to 420 m. While I was watching it through the scope not knowing to shoot or not, the male went away. We were going to move further when my guide found it once again in 380 m from us. I didn’t waste time and fired. Excitement, I felt, was transmitted to the result of the shooting. I missed. But my guide resolved not to despair and took the backpack and we moved on to storm the snowy slopes. We almost rose the top when heard by radio that several big Turs were moving by the lowland. Vladimir found them through the binocular. The animals were almost disappeared behind the turn. We decided to chase them when the radio inform us that there were one more group of animals above us and one of the males had trophy size. My guide suggested two variants: to get the one which was above or to try to approach the animals, we saw first.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. The shooting distance was 480 meters, at 25 degrees angle. I put in the corrections. Emotions overwhelmed me. I felt hot, though the temperature was below zero, caught its blade in the crosshairs hold my breath. The shot. I didn’t see the result but waited my guide would congratulate me but he said just one phrase: “You missed”. I reloaded the rifle. But animals faded away as if they had fallen through the ground. Vladimir explained me that the bullet laid below the male just between its hoofs. We analyzed the reasons. The first time I missed because was in a hurry but I couldn't explain the second failure. The reason could be in the rangefinder I used to measure the distance. A poor workman always blames his tools. Vladimir cheered me as he could because saw what a depression I felt.
The turning point happened when Vladimir assured me that the Turs, we saw first, went to spent night and next day they’d go back the same way and I could present my masterful shooting at 700 meters. We ate breakfast and hikes about km to gorge exit where saw the males a day before. I took the position and we began to wait. It was late afternoon.
Vladimir monitored the next slopes and detected the group of females but we were not interested in them. The group was in 600 meters from us. Thirty minutes passed and I had just about fogged off when heard Vladimir’ exclamation. First moment I was afraid what had happened but then saw what he pointed to and I froze with delight. There was a monster with huge horns and it looked like the Mid Asian ibex. I was shocked and hunting happiness overwhelmed me. I was ready to shoot though the distance was about 850 m. But we waited for a while and noticed that it detected the females and moved to the herd. The distance was reducing but the sun was setting. When the distance was 633 m I put new settings, except the angle at 21 degrees. The shot! None of us noticed where I hit it. The male ran up and stopped, it didn't know where the shot was coming from. I shot once again. The guide saw how the bullet flew over the male. The animals took off and ran up the slope. I puffed and turned the drum, shot twice and missed both times. When everything was over, we rand down because were cold. Sitka didn’t help.
We were moving in the silence and each of us thought about their own. I’m really thankful to my guide because he was constrained till the end of the hunt. I looked to his face and guessed that would know lots of new about myself if he began to talk. We came back to the cabin; I took off the wet clothes and laid into the sleeping bag but couldn’t sleep. I was very worried about the mistakes and my heart was lousy, disgusting, although I tried not to show it.
In the morning the guys woke me up and suggested to go hunting. I said that had to test the gun first. They all agreed after the yesterday failures. First attempt was at 100 meters and three bullets landed in the lower right corner, ten centimeters from the center of the target. I tested it till the time while was not confident that it worked well. Then we went hunting because lost time in testing. We all were in a hurry and I managed to fell into a mountain stream with my foot. Vladimir asked me if I was going to come back to the base, when he knew it. I said No and we moved further. We stopped to take breath and one of the guys detected the group of Tur males. Some of them had trophy size but they seemed puny and not worthy of interest after the yesterdays’ monster. My hunting passion and my desire to proof that I could shoot and the problem was in my rifle made me to go me further. The plan was so: Vladimir and I would go to the left and climb along the creek's bed. After we took up the position the rest of our team would begin to ascend from the right. The animals would see them and go to our side where we waited. We did what planned. I laid on the brook’s bed and watched through the optics two paths where the animals could go. The first path was in 350 m from us, the second one in 520 m. Vladimir was constantly talking with other guys by radio and I heard that the males stood up and ready to move. So, I put in all settings and prepared to shoot. Vladimir insisted we’d go higher a little bit and I joked that I wouldn’t hit the target at 520 m in any case. But I didn’t argue because felt my fault for yesterday failure. We ascended 100-150 meters. I laid down and tried to take the shooting position when saw the group of young males ran along the trail. I notified Vladimir who stood near me and examined them through the binocular. He said there were no good size males only the young ones. His words were cut shot and he bawled that three huge Tur were running below them. I laid and didn’t see one but he shouted me to run up and to shoot standing up. I took off with all I might as if my life depended on it. I ran 15-20 m and fell to the big rock fully exhausted. Vladimir bawled at me to fire the last one. The distance to the target was 300 m. Not thinking about anything I caught its shoulder blade into the crosshairs and pushed the trigger. But there was no shot! I screamed in confusion then guessed and removed the safety off and fired. In a second, I’d heard my guide screamed to shoot once again and the next words were: “You hit it!” In a few seconds I realized what happened and also shouted for joy. I’m still surprise the avalanche hasn’t gone down from those screams. Vladimir measured the distance, it was 368 meters, and assured me that the shot was good because he saw the male sharply turned and spun on the spot after it. Unfortunately, it couldn't stay on the place but fell down from the rock. I rose to the place from where it fell and found the piece of wool but no blood. It alerted me. Then I went down to Vladimir and proposed that just wounded it and it left away. But he calmed me that the trophy was on the gorge bottom. So it happened. We descended and found my trophy. It was not so huge as the one we had seen before but it was a labor one and I’d never forget how I got it. Then all guys congratulated me, we did lots of pictures and carried it back to the camp. I always promise myself that it’s the last hunt when we carry meat to the camp but soon, I forget about it.
In the conclusion I want to thank you all guys who gifted me such memorable hunting and as Magomed Gicheevich said the monster just was not mine. It’s one more reason to come there back.
