Emil and I strolled in to the hut with a few luxuries slowing us
down, arriving in time to appreciate the landscape before cold and
darkness drove us indoors. Given we were on a purely recreational
trip with no pressure for success we didn’t get up ‘til about 8.30ishAfter a quick brekkie we plodded across
the flats and up a leading spur onto the
main ridge. As we wandered, getting a
feel for the area, we spotted two small,
isolated groups of tahr but nothing
worthy of investigation. Carrying on up
we settled in to glass just as it began to
rain that icy, miserable, wintry rain.
Not long after I spotted a mob of stags
1.5km away. Surprisingly they were on
the dark side of the ridge, obviously
preferring the chill in the lee to the
driving wind and rain. All of the stags
were very pale, almost Wapiti-like in
pelage. Straining the Swaro through
the rain we saw a young stag first, then
another young one, both grazing. Then
I panned up to the right and spotted a
big stag lying down. I took a photo on
the Nikon and knew he was well worth
investigating.
It wasn’t going to be a
straightforward stalk – he had the
wind and it was 1pm already. With
such vast country we found we were
constantly underestimating distances
and times, so the stalk took even longer
than anticipated. Despite my weakprotest (I’m allergic to altitude gain) Emil
suggested we dropped down in front
of us and head up the opposite face
quite a way in order to contour across
two gullies. We maneuvered carefully
as we were in sight most of the time,
fortunately the veils of rain kept us
hidden.
In the last gut disaster struck.
We got busted by two nannies.
We stared them down for a bit, but
after having a bit of a conference
between us we decided we
wouldn’t win that contest and
rolled the dice. We dropped down
out of sight for the last 20m to the
ridge where we could see across
the main valley to the stag and
just hoped they wouldn’t create
a ruckus. Fortunately, they let us
move off without too much fuss.
Freezing cold and drizzling, it had
been quite a climb to get to the
stag’s level and I’d elected to leave
the raincoat off because I get hot
when I’m exerting, I sure regretted
it now as I was pretty wet and
bloody frozen.Ranged at bang on 500yds we set up
Greg’s rifle, the camera and the spotter
on a marginal little rest - there was a
beautiful big, flat rock above us but it
was in full view of the tahr. Once I had set
up and we had given each other the all
clear I settled the crosshairs on the stag.
There was a strong up-valley breeze so
I allowed three inches of windage but
didn’t need any of it, it seems velocity
counts for a lot! Squeezing off the crisp
trigger the 7mm Stumpy absolutely
drilled him. Handshakes all round, bloody
rapt!A young stag and a
hummel on a wintry dayEmil evaluating
his bull between
showersI’ve always found these great rolling seas of tussock alluring, top it with the
clean white snow against an aching blue sky and I feel small and humbled.
Just the kind of country I like to hunt in. Winding our way up the gravel roads
I felt stresses I didn’t even know where there lifting off my chest.✴
Emil and I strolled in to the hut with a few luxuries slowing us
down, arriving in time to appreciate the landscape before cold and
darkness drove us indoors. Given we were on a purely recreational
trip with no pressure for success we didn’t get up ‘til about 8.30ish
After a quick brekkie we plodded across
the flats and up a leading spur onto the
main ridge. As we wandered, getting a
feel for the area, we spotted two small,
isolated groups of tahr but nothing
worthy of investigation. Carrying on up
we settled in to glass just as it began to
rain that icy, miserable, wintry rain.
Not long after I spotted a mob of stags
1.5km away. Surprisingly they were on
the dark side of the ridge, obviously
preferring the chill in the lee to the
driving wind and rain. All of the stags
were very pale, almost Wapiti-like in
pelage. Straining the Swaro through
the rain we saw a young stag first, then
another young one, both grazing. Then
I panned up to the right and spotted a
big stag lying down. I took a photo on
the Nikon and knew he was well worth
investigating.
It wasn’t going to be a
straightforward stalk – he had the
wind and it was 1pm already. With
such vast country we found we were
constantly underestimating distances
and times, so the stalk took even longer
than anticipated. Despite my weak
protest (I’m allergic to altitude gain) Emil
suggested we dropped down in front
of us and head up the opposite face
quite a way in order to contour across
two gullies. We maneuvered carefully
as we were in sight most of the time,
fortunately the veils of rain kept us
hidden.
In the last gut disaster struck.
We got busted by two nannies.
We stared them down for a bit, but
after having a bit of a conference
between us we decided we
wouldn’t win that contest and
rolled the dice. We dropped down
out of sight for the last 20m to the
ridge where we could see across
the main valley to the stag and
just hoped they wouldn’t create
a ruckus. Fortunately, they let us
move off without too much fuss.
Freezing cold and drizzling, it had
been quite a climb to get to the
stag’s level and I’d elected to leave
the raincoat off because I get hot
when I’m exerting, I sure regretted
it now as I was pretty wet and
bloody frozen.Ranged at bang on 500yds we set up
Greg’s rifle, the camera and the spotter
on a marginal little rest - there was a
beautiful big, flat rock above us but it
was in full view of the tahr. Once I had set
up and we had given each other the all
clear I settled the crosshairs on the stag.
There was a strong up-valley breeze so
I allowed three inches of windage but
didn’t need any of it, it seems velocity
counts for a lot! Squeezing off the crisp
trigger the 7mm Stumpy absolutely
drilled him. Handshakes all round, bloody
rapt!A young stag and a
hummel on a wintry dayEmil evaluating
his bull between
showersI’ve al eas , the
clean white snow against an achingbluesky and I feel small and humbled.
Just the kind of country I like to hunt in. Winding our way up the gravel roads
I felt stresses I didn’t even know where there lifting off my chest.✴