TROPHY hunting is one of the proven methods of wildlife protection. It works by offering old male animals for hunting under certain supervision and after payment of substantial permit fee. Females, young animals and breeding males are all protected.
The money thus generated is distributed among community, government and safari operators. This results in getting healthy herds of animals and protecting habitats.
This system was also very successfully introduced into our northern areas by the then GM of AKRSP, Shoaib Sultan Khan. I myself saw over 50 ibex while driving on the KKH between the Sust and Khunjerab pass in 2001, whereas in 1989, I had seen none.
We had two successful safaris in Africa where wildlife is managed by trophy hunting. And last year we went to Iran.
The tea tasted good, it was well brewed and whitened just the right colour with everyday milk, as I sipped it slowly while relaxing on our trophy-room annexe verandah after a hectic day in office. Ahmad, who was swimming in the pool, came towards me backstroking and asked: “Have you heard of the Shikar safari based in Turkey and offering all kinds of hunting in the Middle East, central Asian republics, and Pakistan”? On my negative reply he asked me to visit their site adding: “You can have your Marco Polo sheep in Kyrgyzstan through them,” knowing well how much I wished to set my Styer Manlicher Lexus 7mm magnum’s zeiss scope cross wire on the shoulder of this magnificent and massive Argali.
Few days later we agreed to test the Turkish operators with a safari in Iran by hunting a trans Caspian urial.
Not many people know that wildlife hunting in Iran is a pretty exciting experience
On December 22, an airbus took-off from Karachi’s Quaid-i-Azam international at 14:15 hrs with Ahmad’s Styer Manlicher .308 with Ziess 3.5 x 12 x 56 scope, whose zero was tested one day prior to departure at the army firing range, in the hold of the plane. The hard rifle case with three padlocks also contained 20 180-grain ballistic tip bullets hand loaded by me under the close and curious watch of Shah Sahib (my two-year-old grand son) a few days ago.
The Tehran Airport was not busy and we passed through immigration swiftly. As I came up the escalators I saw a middle-aged man with thick glasses looking at me and then searching his pockets for some thing. Since our host told me that his man would meet us at the end of escalators so I guessed he was searching for the placard with our name on it and I said hello to him and he eagerly asked me “Mr Sultan”? That is how we met with Mr Masood who for the next one and a half hour ran from one office to another to get the rifle cleared. In the end Ahmad had to deposit five cartridges with customs as the permission was for only 15. And we moved towards the exit.
It was an instant liking when we saw our host Siamak Khonsari, tall, handsome and cheerful and he took us to his car. Masood after helping to load our bags in the back even ran all the way to help Siamak reverse the car a good 30 yards. Siamak had booked us in a good hotel for the night and promised to pick us up at 7am next morning.
We were in the middle of a good healthy breakfast in the coffee shop of the hotel when Siamak arrived, 10 minutes in advance and asked us to finish our meal as he loads our gear, which was lying near reception in the vehicle. We left hotel at 7:10 and drove towards Mashhad highway. The Tehran morning was just like any winter morning of Europe, cold, hazy and many automobiles already crowded the city roads. We noticed the clean streets and no sign of poverty. The only sore was seeing all those women wrapped in black from head to toe while jeans-clad men and boys were freely moving along.
Tehran is big, quite big, 40km x 6o km and Siamak who was telling us about the slowly passing places informed that Tehran had now engulfed almost all the adjoining villages and thus attained such massive proportions.
Our second vehicle was waiting for us at the start of Tehran - Khorasan - Mashhad highway and from it came out guide Mahmood, guide/helper Ali and a friend of Mahmood, the Alaska-based Manu whose full name is Manu Chehar. It was the start of a very pleasant association and we exchanged greetings and soon our vehicle started following them as buildings gave way to desert with Al Burz mountain on our left while we headed towards east.
Our destination was the Parwar region of the Al Burz mountain range and the last town where we left the highway was Sangsar. There Mahmood searched for a tandoor and huge oven hot Taftons about 18 inches in dia and coloured saffron on top in a similar way as our sheermal. The tandoor shop was all glassed and gave the appearance of a modern bakery. The whole place was on a certain height and we had snow all around.
We took about 24 Taftons and they were sealed in plastic bags with six in each bag. We also enjoyed eating at least two of them piping hot. Freshly baked tandoori bread has its own flavour and all those who have been to tandoor for taking bread for lunch or dinner home, know it very well. The snow, cold, wind just made it tastier that day.
The streets were clean but we saw lots of plastic bags clinging on to bushes and floating around in the desert.
From Sangsar the climb became steep and the temperature also dropped. The land escape resembled more like the rolling hills of Pamirs, which one sees on the KKH near the Khunjarab Pass. The road remained top quality asphalt with plenty of road signs guiding the motorist along.
We reached our game lodge by 2pm and found it in very picturesque surroundings. The lodge was old hunting camp of Iranian royalty and is built in a round small valley. Snow was covering the ground and small fir trees were scattered all around. Among them were many Chukar partridges, calling and moving in snow.
We saw few magpies flying around. Snow was also covered with fox and chukar tracks.
There were two bedrooms and one long sitting room, all heated with oil and gas heaters. We also had a non-heated WC so call of nature was going to be quick, I thought.
Ahmad had to test his rifle and Siamak wanted to have a look around the area glassing the hills for animals. So we left camp in the afternoon and after few miles Mahmood placed a target board exactly 100 metres away in the snow while Ahmad called the distance using his range finder. He shot a single bullet and it hit the bull’s eye slightly left (in about 10 knot cross wind blowing from right to left) and three inches above the centre. Everyone agreed that the Austrian made beautiful rifle with twisted floating barrel was perfectly zeroed and will shoot point blank at around 300 meters.
We glassed the ranges and saw few trans Caspian urials but no good trophy.
On return to camp Ahmad insisted for a practice climb on the nearby hill and I followed him labouring hard in deep snow and high altitude thin air. Coming from sea level Karachi to such heights the body requires acclimatization for at least two days. Few chakors saw us and felt our intrusion in their territory and lodged their protest by emitting shrieking calls and flying helter- skelter.
Ahmad reached the top while I puffed hard 30 yards short and gladly accepted his offer of returning to camp.
Dinner was served at about 7pm. We retired to our beds by 10pm and I listened to the BBC till sleep overcame.
The next day, we had breakfast, took our forest department’s watcher Ali who reminded me of my friend Hamid Farooq, and drove towards the hunting area where we reached after two hours. We also took another game-watcher Shahpur from a camp near the hunting area as the hunt was expected in his game reserve.
Mahmood took over, as we left our vehicles with Siamak and game-watcher Ali, he told us that we will look for urials in two valleys and we started walking single file on the snow.
Manu was with me and after half an hour it was evident that I would slow down the party so we decided to wait while others explore ahead.
They saw few herds but males in them had average horns so they signaled us that they are going on the other side and we should bring the vehicles there by evening.
We turned back and I found out that it was much easier to walk while placing my boots in the footsteps made on our way up. Manu an expert in hiking on snow in Alaska gave me a lot of tips and I learned a bunch of new things in arctic survival and hunting. We saw the tracks of foxes, wolf, bear, wild ass and urials and yes plenty of chukar partridges.
Whenever I go in extreme weather I realize how lucky we are living in the mild climate of Karachi. You can walk in a T-shirt in December and even in evenings.
I also saw some round boulders about the size of pitchers but a closer look revealed that they are some sort of plant, very hard, grey coloured. Manu informed that they are called “Gul-i-Sang” (stone flowers) and have no use to any animals. I tried making an incision in one and found the covering tough.
Siamak had a fire going and it was a welcome relief to stretch near it even while just a layer of canvas separating my body and snow.
Ahmed, who was between Mahmood and Ali, followed by the game-watcher saw a herd of all male urials about 10 in number having few good trophy head, but they crossed over a ridge and as it was getting late they decided to leave the hunt for the next day.
It was dark when we all reached back the game lodge. Dinner was again delicious and while sipping tea Mahmood assured us that the male herd they have seen has one huge trophy ram and they will get it the next morning.
On day three we were in the area after picking Shahpur by 9am and the forward hunting party left for the ridge where the herd was last seen. Siamak and I climbed a nearby hill to have a full view of the ridges where they were going to shoot the trophy ram. Shahpur remained with the vehicles.
From our position on the hill we had a very good view of the ridge that the hunting party was climbing and very soon we saw them glassing the valley on their left and then we noticed their point of interest was high on the ridge. They started climbing the ridge slowly. The wind was in their favour. Half way up we noticed only Ahmad, Mahmood and Ali climbing while Manu and forest guard moved away from the ridge and started a fire. The lead party again went near the edge and then glassed the other side carefully, and for a long time. Then they also came near the fire and started taking their packed lunch. We felt hungry so Siamak decided to move to the vehicle and to take our lunch.
We were relaxing after lunch with one of us keeping watch on the hunting party. It was Shahpur who called me and pointed towards the ridge and I saw Ahmad and Mahmood on the edge lying down. We watched them for some time and then resumed our conversation when I heard and Siamak asked about the muffled sound of fire. We looked through the glasses and saw Ahmad standing and then the radio cracked and Mahmood informed that Ahmad had dead dropped a good size urial at a distance of 300 metres. The large animal was de gutted and then Ali lifted it on his shoulder and brought it down all by himself. Siamak took the vehicle to be at the base of the ridge.
It was a magnificent trophy, 92 cm horns and in beautiful winter coat with large beard. It was Christmas Eve and every one was smiling.
We loaded the urial in one of the vehicles and after thanking Shahpur and leaving him at his forest lodge drove to our camp.
Mahmood and Ali started skinning the trophy in a small empty storeroom adjacent to our bedroom. They had a small gas stove to make some difference in otherwise freezing sub zero room temperature. In such low temperatures it becomes very difficult to control your hands while doing some work. Mahmood cut his thumb with a sharp knife and blood oozed from the wound. Siamak hurried with his first aid kit and did a good job as soon the skinning resumed. Ali showed us the heart of the urial with top plumbing part shattered by the 180-grain partition which entered from just forward of the right shoulder passed through lungs - heart and exited breaking the left. A perfect shot.
I wanted to cook a Pakistani dish for our Iranian friends and as that was our last night I told Siamak that we are going to have chicken boti masala for dinner. He helped me in preparing the dish by cutting onions, crushing garlic and making half inch pieces of the boneless chicken.
They enjoyed the mild spicy dish and even Ahmad nodded in the affirmative.
On day four we started our journey to Tehran by 8 in the morning and an hour short of Tehran Siamak told us that the Iranian news was indicating a big earthquake near Indonesia! With an intensity of 9 on the Richter Scale — the building of a giant tsunami flashed through our minds.
TROPHY hunting is one of the proven methods of wildlife protection. It works by offering old male animals for hunting under certain supervision and after payment of substantial permit fee. Females, young animals and breeding males are all protected.
Our destination was the Parwar region of the Al Burz mountain range and the last town where we left the highway was Sangsar. There Mahmood searched for a tandoor and huge oven hot Taftons about 18 inches in dia and coloured saffron on top in a similar way as our sheermal. The tandoor shop was all glassed and gave the appearance of a modern bakery. The whole place was on a certain height and we had snow all around.
