I
n the wee morning hours of the
day that I shot my bull during
the 2001 Cape buffalo hunt, I
spent several restless hours with
a nightmare (vision). “Would the
reality be like the dream?”
When watching the video, chill bumps
covered my body as I realized that the
dream had become the reality. At the
moment of the shot, the bull had posed
identically as in the vision.
Before I left Africa, the Nature
Conservation agent agreed he would
then get me a permit to bow hunt an
elephant when I could shoot a 100pound bow.
Several months later, I began having a
recurring dream of a charging elephant.
I had other visions that became realities,
so friends cautioned me about bowhunting an elephant.
By early in 2003, I was shooting
a 104 pound Mathews Safari. On
Valentine’s Day, I arm wrestled a
man that ended with a detached
a rib from my sternum and torn
chest muscles. My dream of
bowhunting an elephant in 2003
came to a screeching halt.
Numbness and pain in the right
jaw and right side of my head
forced me to adopt Plan B.