An African Story With a Few Fifties in it: Fifty, 50 & Fifty-One!
By Tony Roettger
Some people say that making life hard is a flaw. Others call it stubbornness, even idiocy. But for one relentless bowhunter, me, the challenge is the reward. The journey began not with a true end game in mind, but the result has been made for a restless spirit—a dream to bow hunt a deer here and there has turned into a life passion to bow hunt the globe. Not the kind of dream that takes you to rock stardom, but one for a passion for bowhunting. Africa, with its wild heart, became an accidental obsession after a few fateful hunts in 2009. Each trip back deepened the addiction, and soon, the record books began to fill with stories and trophies. Who knew? Certainly not me!
Sixteen years later, with gray hairs and tales to match, the hunter, me of all people, stood on the brink of a milestone: the 50th animal for the SCI and Pope & Young record books. But this wasn’t a solo feat. It took the grit of outfitters like Marupa Safaris and the unwavering honesty of Pieter Viviers, a professional hunter and friend. When doubt crept in—“I don’t think I can complete the Africa 29 with a bow”—Pieter’s reply was thunderous: “NO WAY! We are not quitting now! We are 21 in! We can do this!” That confidence was the fuel needed to keep going.
The next quest: the elusive Barbary Sheep. Pieter warned, “We will have to give up many days of hunting to try and get one, they are not easy.” I certainly, undeterred, underestimated the challenge. In Texas, Barbary Sheep might be harvested over feed in a high fence, but Africa was different. Here, the sheep ran wild, never seeming to stop to eat or drink, thriving on steep, rocky hills that seemed more lunar than earthly.
Day one dawned at -7°C in the Northern Cape. The landscape was desolate—rocks scattered like tumblers, sparse grass, and a haunting question: how could anything survive here? But this was Barbary Sheep country. After meeting the farmer, the hunt began. The sheep, wary and wise, traversed the kopje’s (mountains or hills for us non-Afrikaans speakers), pausing only to mock the hunters’ chances. Pieter chuckled, recalling a rifle hunt here that appeared easy, but with a bow, “difficult” was an understatement.
The days blurred together—walking, stalking, hoping. Shots at ewes were possible, but the rams were ghosts, never close enough. Every attempt was rushed, every opportunity fleeting. The pressure mounted, the mind wavered, and Africa’s abundance mocked the struggle. On the second day, it seemed the Barbary Sheep had completely gone extinct! Not a sheep was spotted in all the miles walked. Three days of relentless pursuit, and still, the prize remained out of reach.
Then, as the sun dipped on the third evening, a small group appeared, a ram among them. The moment was seized. The ram, quartering away at 63 yards, made a fatal mistake. The arrow flew—low, but true enough. Blood marked the trail, and into some thorny brush, the ram lay down. A second arrow, deflected, lodged in the horn—a messy, unforgettable detail. But the mission was accomplished: Barbary Sheep with a bow, in Africa.
Celebration followed—a cold Castle beer, sunset photos, and complete disbelief. The Magnus broadhead in the horn was a bonus trophy, a story that couldn’t be hidden. Like ancient cave drawings, this hunt became part of a timeless narrative. The record book wasn’t the goal, but fate intervened: the ram ranked #7 in the SCI record book for Archery animals.
Upon getting the information from the SCI record book and being the sitting president of the Minnesota Chapter of SCI and planning the 50th World Hunting Expo I found it ironic and maybe a sign, that this was my 50th animal in the record book, on the year of the 50th World Hunting Expo and I am about 50 years old (plus one) hit me as, extra special.
I love to bow hunt; I cannot help it, nor do I ask for forgiveness for making my life complicated. Your journey in life is right there in front of you, just hop on and see where it takes you!
