The gift of gemsbok

DesertRam

Director
Staff member
Gemsbok. Kalahari oryx. The desert warrior.

One of New Mexico's premier, and most interesting, big game animals is known by many names. Oryx were introduced to New Mexico decades ago and now offer a unique hunting experience available to anyone lucky enough to be awarded a tag in our random lottery. Overall, our family has had a pretty decent run of that luck, having drawn 10 tags in the past 18 years amongst four of us and filling nine of them. The wife and I each hunted and killed one on the White Sands Missile Range (WSMR) in the early 2000s. In 2006, my wife was called to go on a population reduction hunt, also on the WSMR. She was quite fortunate to kill this big boy.
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The oryx population has increased over the years, and so have hunting opportunities. Since I filled my once-in-a-lifetime tag in 2000, I can now only apply for hunts not considered "premier" by the Game and Fish. Nowadays, I like to apply for hunts outside the WSMR, and have been fortunate enough to draw two licenses in the intervening 18 years, one in 2013
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…and another in 2016.
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When the older two of my three kids got a few rabbit, dove, and deer hunts under their belts, we started applying for the chances at larger game like elk or oryx. These two must have the luck of the Irish, because not long out of the gate they both drew tags for oryx hunts in 2017. My son pulled an off-range tag, which he filled after several days of hunting.
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Later that year, my daughter got to hunt one of the premier areas on a youth tag, which she filled on the second day of hunting with this nice cow.
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If you’d like to flash back for the whole story, just click right here.



Now with all that groundwork laid, I will move onto the next chapter in our family’s oryx tale. For 2018, the older two kids each applied for elk, antelope, and oryx, plus my daughter applied for bighorn sheep and ibex. From those applications, they drew a great elk hunt together (and filled both tags), my daughter drew a bighorn sheep ewe hunt (no dice on that one), and they both pulled oryx tags again! The boy would pursue broken horn oryx on the WSMR January 4-6, 2019, while the girl would chase oryx off-range during the month of January 2019. After much anticipation and preparation, their oryx hunts arrived. Here is their tale.

I’ll start by saying that having two retired grandpas is cool! My and my wife’s dads are retired and were quite excited about hunting oryx with their grandkids, so there was a mass grandparent exodus to our house on New Year’s Eve so we could kick off 2019 chasing oryx for my daughter. Our original plan was to head north and camp near the WSMR location that my son would hunt, but Mother Nature conspired against us with winter weather that caused us to rethink that option. Instead, given that off-range oryx have been seen within just a few miles of home, we decided to hunt a bit more locally for the first couple days.

We spent opening morning in the vicinity of my successful 2016 hunt, but saw nothing except for seven other groups of hunters. Apparently this location is becoming pretty well known! We bailed before lunch and headed home, stopping there for some grub before venturing a bit further afield to an area where I had seen an oryx a couple weeks ago while hunting coyotes. We got there by early afternoon, and covered a bunch of ground. We noticed plenty of oryx sign and even saw a couple in the distance that skedaddled before we could plan a potentially successful stalk. We also stumbled upon a pair of jackrabbits, which the girl put to bed permanently with my coyote rifle. Pop, pop, lights out.
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The next morning we returned to the same location. Not long after the sun rose, we bumped into this little gal, who paused for long enough to look her over and get her on candid camera.
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Early morning came and went with no further action, so when my dad spotted the sentry for a covey of Gambel’s quail, we dug out our shotguns and shifted gears from oryx to a quick bird hunt. Over the next few minutes, we managed to bag a half dozen of these beautiful and tasty birds.
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Soon after, I remembered a location a few miles north of us that often holds oryx, so we took a midday cruise over there to glass some new country. All we saw was snow. Yes, snow in the desert…
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It didn’t take long to determine that this new area was complete devoid of oryx; there was absolutely no fresh sign of any kind. Off we went back to where we had at least seen good sign and some animals. The clouds broke for a while and sun came out, which must have been what these little guys needed to get moving.
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We kept covering ground, looking for fresh tracks, and glassing the desert. Sometime around 2:00, I spotted an oryx way in the distance in an area I thought we could stalk into unobserved. The girl and I grabbed our gear and off we went. We made good headway until the wind shifted. When I felt it kiss my neck, I was afraid the gig was up. It was. We found where the oryx had been standing, and tracks headed into an off-limits area. On the return hike, we found the remains of an oryx in the sand.
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The kid wanted to take the horns for display on the barn, but I reminded her that according to state law, intact heads/horns are property of the state. We took a GPS reading of the remains and I have since reported the location to the Game and Fish, who will likely investigate to determine if there was foul play. After our little hike, the girl conked out in the back seat, so Dad and I figured we better sneak in a coyote stand. We had been seeing plenty of coyote sign, so we hid the truck in a low spot and walked out into the desert to a likely looking spot. I set up the Shockwave and starting singing the birdy blues. About four minutes into the stand, I heard Dad shoot and turned to see a coyote with the afterburners lit getting the heck out of Dodge! We called for another ten minutes or so, but no more takers. As we walked out to the call, Dad explained that the coyote had come in at Mach I, and rather than take a running shot he waited for it to check up at the call. It didn’t, instead trying to eat the decoy before figuring out it wasn’t on the menu.
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With that failure under our belts, it was time to get back to the business at hand, finding the kid an oryx! At about 4:30, I spotted an oryx bedded on the downwind side of a large coppice dune. Of course, he was already looking back at me, but we figured “What the heck, let’s try him anyway.” The girl and I collected some gear and headed in the direction of the oryx. At least this time we had the wind in our favor, and after a couple hundred yards dropped out of sight to continue the stalk. There wasn’t much in the way of landmarks, so when we got into what I thought was its general vicinity, we slowed way down and started glassing from the near-top of each dune we came to.

About when I thought we had screwed up and overshot the oryx, I spotted it, still bedded, about 250 yards away. With the failing light, wind, and thick brush, the kid wasn’t comfortable taking a shot. Good girl.
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We backed up a little and found a slight depression in the terrain that would allow us to close the gap. When next we popped up for a look, the oryx was only about 125 yards out, this time standing and staring at these strange interlopers. The kid eased up to a forked yucca, which turned out not to be as good a rest as we thought, so I popped up the trigger sticks for her. The oryx was quartering to us, so I told her to shoot it just off center and low, hoping for a heart shot. She flicked off the safety and was just easing back on the trigger when the oryx whirled and was gone (or so I thought). The crazy thing sprinted to the top of the dune it had been sleeping on and stopped, turning to give the same shot presentation as before. This time there was no delay, and a shot range out in the desert! I heard the sound of a solid hit, and watched through the bino as the oryx reacted to the shot, nearly dropping. It stumbled off the back side of the dune, and I watched horn tips slowly stagger off into the desert. When I lost sight of them entirely, I feared that we would lose this notoriously tough critter, so we sprinted to the dune. It was nowhere to be seen. We dropped off the dune to find its tracks. When we did, they were headed in the opposite direction of what I had last seen, straight towards the off-limits area! Uh oh.

We got right on the tracks, which were relatively easy to follow in the soft sand. After several hundred yards of trailing, we noted that the oryx was starting to drag one leg, and soon after that I saw copious drool. In the fading light, and against the backdrop of reddish sand, I couldn’t tell that it was bloody, but my inner spidey-sense told me we were getting close. I whispered to the girl to stay ready, and that I thought we would find him bedded any time. We slowed to still-hunting speed and crept onward. We popped around a big dune and I watched in wonder (I love these animals) as the oryx lurched from its bed on the dune’s back side and stumbled away from us. Instinct kicked in and I tried to set up the sticks, but the kid just stepped around me, waited for the oryx to stop after a failed attempt to climb then next dune, and calmly shot it in the neck offhand, dropping it right there! We eased up to make sure it was truly down. He was down – a very nice bull for off-range. What exhilaration! What amazement at the size, bulk, and exotic beauty of this majestic animal.
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We hustled back to the road, which turned out to only be a half-mile away at this point (out stalk took us at quite an angle). Theree we met the grandpas, who had gotten the retrieval gear ready for us. The whole crew returned to the oryx and more photos were taken.
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I field dressed the bull (ain’t I a great dad?) and we loaded him on to the Gametote for the trip back to the truck.
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A half-mile tote of a relatively large animal in loose sand wasn’t much fun, but we made it and loaded the bull into the truck for the trip home.
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We skinned him out and let him hang overnight in the subfreezing temps, and uncommon occurrence for us. It’s usually too warm for us to leave critters hang too long here. While skinning, I recovered the killing bullet from the off-side hide of the neck. Decent performance from the cheapy chugger 185-grain .338 soft point fired from a .338 Federal.
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The next morning we quartered the bull and placed him on ice in a large cooler. Then we scrambled to get the truck cleaned out and the fifth wheel hooked up so we could head out for Phase II – the boy’s on-range hunt for a broken horn oryx. No rest for the wicked.
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We traveled to the northern portion of the WSMR and set up the camper. My father-in-law offered to buy dinner in nearby Socorro, and the long-neglected but not forgotten poor college student in me would not refuse. After a fine Mexican dinner, we fueled up the truck and returned to camp, where we settled in for the night. Check-in time for the hunt was 10:00, so we had a pretty leisurely morning before traveling to the gate. As usual, we waited in line for the hunt administrators to open the gates and let us in. This is waiting:
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These are the last pictures for a while. Hunters are not allowed to photograph anything on the WSMR except their dead oryx, and that with limitations (no scenery in the background, no buildings, and only a few pictures that can be quickly reviewed by hunt officials before you leave).

These on-range hunts are pretty big productions. In this case, there were 79 hunters and all of their guests (each can bring up to three). All are required to attend a mandatory safety briefing provided by the hunt administrator and NM Game Wardens. Various WSMR hunt officials are also available. After the briefing, and any questions, hunters are released to their own devices, with admonishment NOT to start the Oryx 500 in an effort to beat other hunters out of the parking lot. I have learned not to be in a big hurry, since most people don’t spot game that’s plain to see. I was proved right. After at least 20 trucks headed south, we made our way out of the parking and within five minutes had already spotted two oryx right by the road. Neither had full horns, and were thus legal for the boy, so we dismounted the truck, made a short sneak, and he was soon set up on the sticks with oryx in the crosshairs. Now it gets interesting. He told me before this whole thing started that he planned to spend the first part of the hunt looking for a large bull with a full horn. These two did not meet his criteria, so he passed. No worries, it’s early in the 2.5-day hunt, so off we went.

A couple miles later, we arrived at a place that had held oryx during the boy’s pronghorn hunt in October 2017. After just a few minutes of glassing, I located a large herd about a mile out in the desert. I couldn’t identify a broken horn for sure, but in a group that large we expected at least one, so off we went. We sneaked in until we were about 200 yards from the closest oryx, and about 400 yards from the nice broken horn bull I had spotted at the far side of the herd. We needed a less-than-300-yard shot, so we kept sneaking. We were getting close when a truck full of hunters came bombing over a hill down a two-track headed right into the herd. Of course they wanted none of that. We were left staring at two clouds of dust – one from the truck and one from the rapidly departing oryx. We were a little discouraged as we trudged back to the road, but we knew we had time to keep looking. As sunset neared, we found a group of four oryx in some thick brush. With the wind in our favor, the boy and I stalked into 133 yards of a nice intact bull, a baldy, a cow with one horn pointed straight down (cool, but not legal), and a small cow with one horn broken off half-way (legal). After looking her over closely, the boy decided she was too small (in body and horn) and we returned to the truck. On the way back to the gate for check-out, we saw a huge bull with both horns broken off about 1/3 each. To be legal on a broken horn tag, one horn must be broken at least 25% of its length. With two decent horns, we had nothing to compare too. To play it safe, we grudgingly passed on this huge-bodied bull. That ended the first day and we checked out through the hunt station (where they told us that bull would have been legal, drat!) and headed to the camper for dinner and bed.

We were back at the gate for check-in at the start of legal shooting hours the next morning. As the day progressed, we looked at several groups of oryx, but didn’t find any the kid was interested in. By midafternoon, many hunters had filled out, so hunt officials were out on the prowl lending helping hands to those who hadn’t. One found us and led us to a place he had seen a nice broken horn bull. Sure enough, we quickly located his group at about 750 yards. The boy and I hustled their direction, only to find they had played this game before and gave us the slip. As we left that location, we spotted a group near the road with a single-horned oryx. We made a couple tries to get within range, but they stayed just out of reach. As sundown approached, our new guide heard about a large broken horn bull from another hunt official. Excited to be back in the game, off we went. We easily found the bull and set off for a stalk. The boy and I closed in to about 225 yards, but the oryx was facing straight away. He started to walk off, quartering away. The boy was on the sticks, safety off, waiting for the bull to turn. I told him as soon as he did to shoot. The bull started to turn and I heard the safety click off. Just as the bull start a slow turn to broadside, I head the official who had been helping us running up behind me shouting “Wait, wait.” Confused, we turned to see what the fuss was about. We were quickly informed that, in this official’s opinion, this bull did not meet the criteria of at least one horn broken 25% of its length. With much regret, we safed the rifle and made our way back to the truck, then the check station and camp.

On the morning of the last day, only about a dozen or so trucks joined us at the gate for check-in. Time was growing short. And worse, the weather was turning, with scudding clouds and the feel of precipitation in the air. Within the first hour, we had located three different broken horn oryx, all cows. The boy steadfastly stuck to his promise that he wouldn’t take a cow until after lunch on the last day, and turned them all down. Soon, the wind picked up and the oryx seemed to vanish into thin air. We covered miles and miles and didn’t see another one for a long time. At about 3:00 we found one group with three, all intact. Then, you guessed it, rain closed in. Soon it was pouring and I thought we were doomed. With nothing to lose, we returned to where we had seen and stalked the nice bull the afternoon before. Danged if the boy didn’t spot the same group moving through the brush in the downpour about 500 yards from the road. He and I jumped out and rushed to a hill about 300 yards out. When we crested, the oryx were about 250 yards away in the bottom of a grassy draw. By the time we got set up on sticks and steadied from the mad dash to our vantage, they whirled and ran off. We followed, but couldn’t close the gap for a reasonable shot. Totally disgusted, we trudged back to the truck, soaked and forlorn with our apparent failure. With about an hour until the end of shooting hours, we just started heading back to the gate, about a 45 minute drive. When we dropped out of the hills into the open grasslands, it was like the kid called down a miracle – the rain stopped, the clouds parted, and the sun came out. In that last hour, we saw more than 50 oryx! We jumped from herd to herd looking for a broken horn. Lunch past; the boy’s standards had eased up, making my job easier. I just had to find a legal oryx, not THE oryx.
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Just as the sun set, we spied a group of oryx in a wide open area. A quick look through the binocular revealed two broken horn oryx! Yes, finally. The boy and I leaped from the truck and dashed towards them. We got within about 300 yards and set up, but were looking directly into the glare of the setting sun, which prevented an ethical shot. As we tried to maneuver into a better shooting position, the oryx topped over a dune and disappeared into the sunset. We looked at each other, exasperated. This had happened at least a half dozen times, and each time we pursued, only to be outrun. I said “Well, same decision – do we spend 15 minutes looking for another, or do we run to that hill?” The boy replied, “We run, of course!” So we did. This time it worked! As we crested the dune, there they were, about 300 yards away and unaware of us. I saw a closer dune that offered a better shot angle, so we dropped back, hit a low spot, and rushed to that dune. I eased up to the top and set the Trigger Sticks. Just as the boy settled his rifle in the yolk, a large stubby-horned oryx walked to the top of the next dune and stopped broadside at just over 200 yards, like a gift. This time there was no waiting. As soon as the boy confirmed the animal was legal, a 150-grain Barnes TTSX was on its way. I heard the solid “whack” of a good hit, and the oryx lurched after the departing herd, but soon veered the opposite direction in obvious distress. When it stopped to look back, the .308 cracked again, and again I heard the hit. The oryx stumbled off and I watched as it dropped into a low spot that it didn’t come out of.

While we caught our breath from our raging sprint, I collected the sticks and then we set out towards what we hoped would be a fallen oryx. I led the boy a bit wide, looking for tracks and blood before the dead body. I located what I thought were the right tracks, and soon the boy picked up blood sign. He followed the tracks until we spotted the oryx tucked in behind a small bush, breathing her last. Not being one to let an animal suffer, the kid planted his final round into her neck, ending the ordeal that had me on pins and needles for most of the day. I was proud of the kid for sticking to his guns, but dang did he turn me into a nervous wreck thinking we were going to eat this special tag!
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With some help from our friendly hunt official and his trusty ATV, we made short work of the drag back to the truck. There we found a flat on his truck, so we helped change it out. While doing that, we learned we were the last hunters on-range. We checked out of the gate way after dark, which probably made us public enemies #1. I felt bad, and we apologized and thanked the follow profusely. He was quite gracious, so we left with no regrets after an awesome time afield with my kid and his granddads.

With school the next day, we skipped camp and headed straight home. It was very late when we got there, so the boy got cleaned up and went to bed while Dad and I skinned the oryx for an overnight hang. In true oryx fashion, this old gal stopped both Barnes bullets, which I recovered against the off-side hide. Picture perfect, just the kind of performance I expect from X bullets.
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That’s all folks. Now I sit here with pride and contentment bursting forth at the way these kids handled themselves. I feel honored to pass along this wonderful hunting tradition to the next generation, and humbled to live as an integral part of nature and to reap her bounty to feed our family. We are truly blessed.

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Outstanding story & pics, Troy! Three generations sharing a great hunt; it don't get any better than that.

Definitely HOM material.

Regards,
hm
 
As always Troy, tons of respect for you and your family. You are all very truly blessed!
 
Originally Posted By: GCAs always Troy, tons of respect for you and your family. You are all very truly blessed!

Ditto.

Always wanted to hunt those but wouldn't have a clue where to start.
 
Troy, what's the story on the gemsbok on white sands? Who, when and where from?
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Assume those "off range" all came from white sands originally??

Regards,
hm
 
Originally Posted By: crapshootOriginally Posted By: GCAs always Troy, tons of respect for you and your family. You are all very truly blessed!

Ditto.

Always wanted to hunt those but wouldn't have a clue where to start.

Thank you both.

Lance, if you're serious and want to get started, send me a PM and I'll share what I know.
 
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Originally Posted By: hm1996Troy, what's the story on the gemsbok on white sands? Who, when and where from?
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Assume those "off range" all came from white sands originally??

Regards,
hm

Yes, drifters. Those on the range were put there intentionally back in the 70s. I provided a lot of the history in my 2013 story. Click on that link in the post above.

ETA - part of the 2013 post is no longer accurate; there is now a non-resident quota for all big game, including oryx.
 
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Quote:Yes, drifters. Those on the range were put there intentionally back in the 70s. I provided a lot of the history in my 2013 story. Click on that link in the post above.


Thanks, Troy, after re-reading the 2013 post, I discovered that I read that back in 2013 and overlooked your current link. My rememberer, unfortunately, has a shelf life of 6 months prior (on a good day), unfortunately.
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Regards,
Clarence
 
Originally Posted By: DesertRamOriginally Posted By: crapshootOriginally Posted By: GCAs always Troy, tons of respect for you and your family. You are all very truly blessed!

Ditto.

Always wanted to hunt those but wouldn't have a clue where to start.

Thank you both.

Lance, if you're serious and want to get started, send me a PM and I'll share what I know.

Appreciate the offer. I'm serious but my wallet isn't. As with most out of state hunts, out of my price range.
 
Originally Posted By: mattman215Awesome this is on my bucket list
I suppose I should start putting in bonus points.
Sorry, no bonus or preference points in New Mexico. Complete luck of the draw, so apply now!


Originally Posted By: crapshootWhen do y'all put in for tags? I know it's way different than Nevada's.
Applications for oryx tags are due March 20 through the NMDGF website.
 
CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR GREAT HUNT----Wow!! sure enjoyed your post and beautiful pictures---Gave those Kids memories that will last their lifetime WTG--------------Thanks for sharing


svb
 
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