Quick write-up, not cos it’s a great story but cos a comment on another thread reminded me how much I enjoy this section and I want to encourage others to contribute, no matter how mundane.
Been working too much and have a few other stressors to deal with, so when a fantastic forecast coincided with a meeting- and deadline-free day, I thought bugger it and bunked work.
If you can’t do that once in a blue moon, what’s the point being the boss huh?
I was a tad slow out of the scratcher, but hey it was more about escapism than filling the freezer (although I was getting a bit grumpy with the wife buying mince). I also wasn’t expecting much from such a handy spot - one hour drive from Chch + one hour hike in.
Anyway, I got into position around 7:30 and lo & behold - a hind & yearling on the opposite face. Closest I could get was 330m. I had a good look for alternatives cos a) it would be the longest shot I’d taken, and b) there was a gnarly gully between that would make recovery ‘type 2’ fun, but nothing.
They’d bedded down, so I got set up as best I could, shooting off my walking poles to clear the scrub, and waited.
After ages, the sun peeped over the ridge and hit their clearing, and as expected they stood up. I wanted the yearling and he obliged with a nice broadside, so I let rip.
He dropped on the spot. Pulling the trigger is the easy bit, they say. They are not wrong.
Next hour was spent struggling down through the monkey scrub to find the creek in the gully, following that a ways (only slightly easier than the scrub) then bashing up to the yearling.
The shot had hit him slightly higher than my point of aim. It had anchored him on the spot by smashing both shoulders but had unfortunately not hit anything vital, so he required finishing with the knife. Not pleasant, but I think it’s healthy every so often to be faced with the reality of what we do. Will certainly make me work harder on my shooting and be more circumspect before pulling the trigger next time.
After a very unhurried butchery and lunch, there was nothing else left to do to avoid the climb out. What a bastard that was. Steep gorse-infested scree, and in the opposite direction to home, but easier than the alternative (back the way I’d come). Finally made the ridge, then had a decent trek back around, but there’s something strangely enjoyable about trudging along with a pack weighed down with fresh venison.
Didn’t get much work done today either, still totally chilled out after yesterday’s effort!
Now c’mon, get out there if you can. And if you can, let us know how you get on.
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