Hunting in Belarus: Traveling is my passion and when I can do it with a rifle in my suitcase, happiness borders on very high peaks. Take for example the last hunting trip, organized a few months ago in the company of the inevitable Giacomo and my hunting godfather, Cesare.
We are a good trio and under the pretext of hunting we are traveling all over the world. The trip to Belarus, however, remained in my heart, since we had wanted to organize it for a long time, and in the end, despite the work and money that is never enough, we succeeded. As usual, Cesare took care of the organizational part, a very dear friend who, many years ago, introduced me to the pleasures of hunting and jokingly I call my hunting godfather. As usual, before leaving we set ourselves a hunting objective: we had to capture, each, at least one old and big moose by the roar. Of course we wouldn't have disdained even a nice one boar, or a roe deer. It seems that the whole region is literally full of them, but the moose was supposed to be the star of our trip. I'm not announcing anything, but we were all very satisfied when we returned.
The outward journey was rather pleasant and short, on the other hand the enthusiasm of the departure is always the same: it makes you overcome every effort without realizing it. At the airport we carried out all the customs clearance procedures in about twenty minutes and we immediately entrusted ourselves to two guides who came to take us to take us to a beautiful reserve; a beautiful corner of paradise even just for a holiday. But we had to hunt and we have not forgotten even for a second. On the other hand, if we are passionate, our guides Abram and Amos are almost fanatics of hunting, in love with their land that they show with an ill-concealed pride.
Arriving at the reserve, Abram introduces himself as the huntsman and before letting us go to bed, even if it is only seven in the evening, he explains a bit how the following day will take place. Our nice little group will split up and each of us will go with a different guide: I will be accompanied by Amos and I don't mind at all, as he seems to me quite prepared. Before letting us rest, Abram reminds us that the alarm clock will be for three in the morning and we, just so as not to seem like a fool, pretend nothing has happened, but I'll spare you the remarks we exchanged as soon as the door was closed. In short, at half past two the ringtone of my cell phone goes off and it seemed to me that I had practically slept nothing: a shared sensation. Luck has it that the eggs and the coffee of Eva, Amos's partner are really good and hot. We wake up quickly as enthusiasm prevails, we dress exactly as recommended by the guides and we leave. Hat on your head, tightly tied collar, boots and warm clothing: it's not only for the cold, but also for the infinity of critters who try to get the better of you when you enter the woods: ticks, mosquitoes and horse flies are really a nightmare . The off-road is nice and new but uncomfortable and bone-breaking. After having slaughtered my back, Giacomo's and Cesare's, the jeep stops and allows us to descend near a wood that looks like a real jungle. We admire it open-mouthed as in the dark it seems even more impenetrable. At this point the guides say goodbye and each of us follows his own. Amos speaks English well but during the journey that will take us to the roof terrace he says little and nothing.
It constantly reminds me to be careful: and indeed the path is not exactly smooth. The undergrowth is hell, complete with ferns, giant nettles and lichens, but the birch forest is a sight. After about eight hundred meters we reach the roof terrace. It is a rather luxurious little house, I realize that even before I go up. There are beds, fire and stoves. We take a stand and wait for something to happen. To begin with, the sun rises: it is about 5,30 am and Amos begins with a song that I would have learned to know in the following days. It calls the moose and does it quite well as some of them respond in return. There must be at least three of them around and my hope for an easy hunt lights up immediately. Unfortunately, hopes are quick to die: the morning ends without the moose showing up. Same thing during the afternoon despite the fact that she changed the roof terrace. Not bad: the day was exceptional and quite rewarding.
The following morning, things repeat themselves: in the saddle of the jeep we reach the set place, we reach our roof terrace, less elegant than that of the first day, and we wait. Amos brings out something I've never seen before; it is a piece of dried moose trachea into which its call blows. I think it's absurd and a bit gross, but it works. For him it is a real relic, he hardly shows it to me. The animals respond but like the following day they do not show themselves. Amos' anger is quite obvious. He calls Abram and Mikail, the other guide, on his cell phone, discussing I don't know what and then off we go, towards a new location. The hunting technique changes here. No roof terrace; we are near a marsh and Amos, who evidently knows the area quite well, begins with his calls as soon as he gets off the jeep, without even looking around. Maybe he wants to test the waters. He smiles when at least four copies are answered. He gestures for us to get out and take the weapons with us. The calls and responses become more and more intense and this time Amos does more: he imitates the moose with surprising ability and rubs big branches against the trees. I look at him in admiration as it works and it seems that things will soon turn out to be successful. Abram also tells me where to position myself: I take my gun and feel all the adrenaline of a fantastic day running through my veins. Appearance. Appearance. Appearance.
After half an hour my arms, despite the adrenaline, start to hurt me. I look at Abram as Amos doesn't take his eyes off a vague spot in the trees. The guide shrugs and makes me understand that the moose, after a very slow approach, probably fell asleep. It is delirium. Amos wants this moose more than me. He makes us all get in the car and we leave for another area. It is late afternoon and we still have little time available. After stopping the jeep, probing the presence of wild Amos and Abram argue among themselves. We will organize ourselves like this, he then explains to me "I will call the moose and you will go to meet him". I nod yes, since it seems to me a more than suitable idea. We immediately catch the interest of a moose and Abram and I follow its verses. Our steps are slow and silent and soon our caution is well rewarded. In the distance I see a female moose watching us for who knows how long. I have a shot. I look for the weapon but Abram nods to me no. Probably the law does not allow the hunting of females at that time. I shrug as soon after he points to an old male.
The ritual is always the same. I caress my rifle, I observe that fabulous creature in the telescope: the crystal clear lens allows me to admire it in all its beauty. I find the best point, center and shot. The animal falls to the ground lifeless in a few seconds. He is a fantastic creature, an old male whose hunt has been thrilling and thrilling. An experience that all hunting lovers should try. I had my prey, but in the following days Giacomo and Cesare also had excellent results, but that's another story.
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