It’s me last night in Te Anau before plane home to northland tomorrow morning -
Had a hard time handing in the hire car this afternoon…now stuck at holiday park.
One last poke for an evening trip anyone? I’ll cover all costs gas dinner etc… haha
Have been a chasing Big Ole Swamp stag for the last 9 days to come up short - plenty of action but no stags fallen. They Had me fooled doing 360s dark till dark.
At least 10 stags in the area. Roaring only late evening/night with the odd quiet moan in the early hours.
Assumed Donkey Would set things off each night and all other stag would seem to go quiet.
He was responding well, let me within 100 yards multiple times but could never lay my eyes on him. His rubs runs shit and hoof marks were a lot bigger than his mates.
Pulled me across a large swamp, up n over a the ridge top to then lead me back down another, & spat back onto to the swamp - with a crash heard back off up the ridge we had just dropped down. He did this multiple times.
Kms and kms I travelled chasing this one stag. Second photos shows the swamp and his territory on the far side. Knee deep trudge each time.
Trying to tune into his marks and the way he moved through the swampy scrub was an almost spiritual experience
Blew my mind how cunning he was to be dipping and diving under and over branches to avoid making one obvious track. Had to mimic him and how he would move through - slowly and silently leaving little traps and trip wires of sticks in his path.
The first night I got well within 30 yards but got too dark.
Standing in the pitch black feeling like I’m about to be bum rushed by stag really makes ya nuts go hard n tingly!!! Headtorch and 300wm ready to hip fire at this sucker!!
I was the sucker.
Most times he would be somewhere along his trails that stretched kms and kms across the swamp land.
Sometimes he couldn’t help to beep back at me to give away his position to then be lead back up the garden path.
He would wait till I gave up , get half way back across the swamp then grunt at me from safety. And sure enough I’d head back in to play wind games for another 2 hours.
I would drop my boots and pack and sneak back in to get within 50 yards of him to have him crash off and his hinds spill off the opposite way.
Hunting frosty Fiordland swamps in socks is one of the most invigorating experiences you could imagine… nuts deep in swamp at times. But I kept telling myself this is what you need to do to bag a cunning stag!!
I SWEAR the birds are involved… bambi type shit….. raising the alarm - to then act all natural and cutely tweet when I scowl over at them. Can’t fool me!
Any longer in there I think I would have gone truly feral and started rolling around and waiting in his wallow haha.
Maybe that’s what I needed to do…..
Shot a hind on the way out from the 4pointers harem - this guy I was able to spot and spook multiple times.
Gave back straps n back wheels to the motel owners - cooked the heart and tender loins over the fire to have a sense of content over come me. Absolutely loved it.
Happy as.
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