Reports

A magnificent hunt in incredibly picturesque locations. The hunt was challenging as the deer were extremely cautious at this time of year. The trophy was taken on the morning of the third day of the hunt, despite the high density of animals in the area! According to my preliminary estimates, this roe deer will qualify for gold.

Five years later, I returned to Uzbekistan to conduct the country’s first-ever hunt for the Ustyurt urial. These sheep inhabit a remote area of Karakalpakstan, near the borders with Turkmenistan and Kazakhstan. It’s an arid region with vast canyons, the natural habitat of this subspecies of the Trans-Caspian urial. Hunting had never been conducted there before. In search of sheep, we covered more than 20 kilometres in a single day. It soon became clear that the animals were mainly in the lower canyon areas. By the end of the day, we had spotted about twenty sheep, including six rams, females, and juveniles. Two attempts at distances of 540 and 605 metres were unsuccessful; with winds in excess of 10 metres per second, the bullet was deflected by more than a metre. On one occasion, just as I was about to fire at 400 metres, the sheep became aware of our movements and fled. It was only on my fourth attempt that I located a lone sheep, which I shot from a distance of 280 metres. This was followed by a strenuous approach and the challenging task of transporting the sheep back to the vehicle. After an 8-kilometre trek, we returned to the vehicle after dark. The seven-year-old sheep, with its distinctive chest fringe, was gifted to Uzbekistan’s National Museum collection. I also collected genetic material, which will provide a unique scientific resource for studying this rare species.

Ibex, 10 years old, with 94 cm horns, taken at a distance of 440 metres.

The tension of searching for a maral built up from the very first day, when I spotted a fine stag at a distance of 1300 metres on a sunny morning on the slopes of the western Tyva mountains, to the final day before I left, when I successfully took an excellent trophy at 700 metres, just two hours before sunset, at the border of the larch forest and the alpine meadow. The constant change of locations, hiking through the mountains, fishing for grayling, quenching my thirst from icy streams, and the bountiful harvest of cranberries and blueberries all allowed me to experience the wild nature of Tyva with every fibre of my being.

In pursuit of the Siberian ibex. The mountains of the Western Sayan are especially stunning in autumn. At the beginning of October, I set off for these very peaks in search of a Siberian ibex. Our journey took us from Abakan to Sayanogorsk, followed by a four-hour trip upstream in a powerful, comfortable boat to the authorised hunting area on the border of the Krasnoyarsk and Tyva regions. Arriving at the camp, the essentials came first: weapon sighting, a communal dinner and preparations for the morning hike, where I'd be guided by Vasily, an experienced hunter with 20 years' experience, including work with international clients. The plan was simple: take a boat up the Yenisei River to our drop-off point and begin the climb to a winter shelter built on the mountain. If we didn't bag an ibex on the way, we'd spend the night in the shelter and continue the hunt from the summit. The boat trip was shorter than expected; soon the engine slowed down and we pulled up to the riverbank. After securing the boat firmly, we began the ascent. The slopes of the Eastern Sayan, draped in the golden hues of autumn, unfolded into breathtaking landscapes. Even the rhododendron had mistaken the season, bursting into purple bloom and adding a festive touch. We followed the course of a roaring mountain stream, then turned toward a ridge and began to scramble up. After a couple of hours and nearly 500 vertical metres, we decided to take a break and inspect the cliff rising ahead. I scanned the area with binoculars, knowing that Vasily would be the first to spot any ibex. His sharp eye and experience leave no chance for a guest. “There’s a large herd of ibex, and there are trophy-sized ones among them,” Vasily says. “Where?” “See the tree? At the very top, look down and to the left between the rocks; there’s a small clearing. That’s where they are!” I peer carefully and spot them—plenty of them, with both females and males grazing in the sun. The range is workable: 400 metres with a 27-degree angle. I position the rifle comfortably, locate my ibex in the scope, though he’s partially covered by another horned male. I wait patiently. And then he moves into the clear! “Steady,” I tell myself. Holding my breath, I slowly press the trigger. The shot cracks, followed by the unmistakable thud of a hit. It’s a hit! The ibex scatter, bolting out of sight. Vasily confirms the hit but warns that if my ibex is only wounded, it might hide in the brush, making it hard to find. But I feel confident. “We’ll find him,” I assure Vasily. “He’s ours.” We head over to check. The descent on grass is steep, and we clutch at bushes as we go. We reach churned-up soil. Wild boar? No—it’s the ibex’s trail, torn up in their hasty escape. We follow their tracks to a vantage point overlooking the gorge where they disappeared. Vasily scans the area with his binoculars: "There it is!" "Where?" "Look, it's standing on a rock. We have to shoot it!" I quickly aim my rifle. The distance is 200 metres; I fire and the ibex rolls down the slope. Hurray! I've got it! The Siberian ibex was taken in the Sayan Mountains! Words cannot express my joy. Vasily and I congratulate each other; he's as excited as I am. We set off to retrieve the animal, as we still have to field dress it and transport the trophy back to the boat. "I see it, it's in the bushes," Vasily calls from ahead. The trophy horns are almost a metre long and the growth rings indicate that the ibex is over 13 years old - an impressive size for this region. The hide is beautiful, dark with a white patch on the back. We have taken an old male from the wild, one that has completed its reproductive cycle, making way for younger males, while adhering to the principles of sustainable hunting! This glorious and challenging hunt was a fitting end to a successful mountain season. It will be remembered as one of the most exciting and vivid adventures in the mountains, worth sharing with fellow hunters, and I'm delighted to share it with you!

I was hunting snow sheep in the Stanovoy Range in Khabarovsk Krai—a challenging undertaking. The first task was to find a reliable helicopter, and I chose a Robinson 66. But before I could board the helicopter, I had to drive 650 km north from Khabarovsk. We flew with a refuelling stop at Chumikan. The first attempt was unsuccessful; we had to turn back, just short of the hunting area. Only on the second attempt were we able to complete the mission. I took the shot at 435 metres with a .300 WM calibre, using a Winchester Silver Ballistic bullet.

Early in the morning on 14 October, I arrived in Khatanga, and from there, we took a helicopter to a fishing camp located on the shores of Lake Taimyr. I witnessed a rare phenomenon—a sandstorm amidst -15°C frost. Strong winds lifted tonnes of sand from the shores of the shallow lake, blanketing everything around us and covering the white snow with a grey veil. It took us 15-20 minutes to reach the northern shore of the lake, where the hunt would take place. Beyond the lake, the foothills began, home to a large population of Musk ox, introduced here from North America 50 years ago. According to locals, the population numbers around 50,000, all descendants of the original 50 animals brought here. We quickly spotted a group of animals, with the dominant male standing out. We then approached the group on foot, and they didn't seem too alarmed by our presence. A .375 calibre bullet swiftly brought the animal down.

I managed to hunt during the rut! Once again, I visited Dmitry Fedotov's hunting reserve, "Serebryanyye Klyuchi"! It was a one-evening hunt. In October, the red deers were still in rut. We were hunting by stalking. The calibre was 9.3x62. I took two shots, hitting the target both times.

I hunted this August at the reserve of our fellow club member, Dmitry Fedotov. It was a one-evening hunt. Everything was close by, convenient, and quick. The animal density was high! The hunting camp was excellent! I used a 300WM, shooting from a distance of 120 metres in twilight. I am 100% satisfied with the hunt!

In mid-October I hunted Ussuri moose with Vadim Valentinovich Atroshchenko in Khabarovsk Krai, along the Ulika River. On the very first day I managed to take a trophy. It was a challenging hunt with a very low animal density.

A chamois was taken from a distance of 300 metres in the State Hunting Reserve "Severo-Osetinsky."

The hunt took place in October 2024 in the Naryn Region of Kyrgyzstan, in the Ak-Sai Valley. The weather was changeable, and not every day allowed us to ascend into the mountains. There was a bit of snow, and the frosts had already set in. Nevertheless, luck was on our side, and I managed to harvest a Hume Argali, approximately 12-13 years old. The shooting distance was 420 metres at an altitude of 4,000 metres above sea level.

At the end of September 2020, a hunt was organised in Kamchatka with the support of Pyotr Mironovich Zharikhin. A brown bear was harvested.

The value of this trophy lies in the fact that I took it from a distance of 1,248 metres in the presence of two witnesses :).