Sorry fella’s this reports a bit wordy, for the last couple of years I’ve had the challenging experience of trying to outwit a specific stag. Not some monster 12 or 14 pointer, but an animal a little bigger and smarter than most of his mates in the valley.
2013 Spring Scouting Trip
It all started three Roars back when I got chatting to a tramper on my walk out from an unsuccessful trip near Arthurs Pass. He told me about how the previous April he had been in a particular valley from where he had heard six or more stags roaring. Well, after winter I made a recce into the area, tramping up another catchment, ’Access Valley’, to the saddle that overlooks ‘Particular Valley’. Being just a day trip I didn’t descend right down into the depths of Particular Valley, but explored the bush ridges and spurs at it’s head. I found enough sign to suggest that a hunting trip was warranted.
2014 Roar
So come the next Roar I set off on a 3 day trip. On my way in I meet another tramper coming out. I outlined my plans to him and he commented that several days ago he had seen a good sized stag near the saddle. This and the fact I heard a number of stags roaring in ‘Access Valley’ on my tramp in had me thinking this trip was a good idea.
My plan was to hunt the upper reaches of ’P. Valley’ and so I decided to camp at the last creek in ‘Access Valley’ so as not to disturb my hunting area with the smells and sounds of camp. After setting up the fly I thought I heard a low moan from somewhere above camp. But it wasn’t repeated so I thought little more of it as I could again hear full on roars drifting up from Particular Valley’. Departing camp I topped the saddle and descended into ‘P. Valley’ with a view to checking where the roarer’s were and also seeing what other hunters were about. As I descended I heard 5 stags roaring and plotted their locations on my map. I was surprised [but not disappointed] that I didn’t find evidence of any other hunters along the track. By the time I’d retraced my steps back to camp it was getting dark and as I fixed my meal and a brew I was serenaded by several stags down ‘Access Valley’ …just magic.
Attachment 44460
Listening to my neighbours as I dined, I had a closer look at the map and where the stags were that I’d heard in ’P. Valley’. Some seemed too hard to get to, either due to gnarly contours, elevation gain or distance, but two fella’s seemed more feasible. Both were several hundred meters above the track and only a K or so apart. The plan was to make an early start tomorrow and climb to them while the airflow was still downhill. If I screwed up one stalk then I would have the other stag not too far away as a backup option.
It was well dark when I crawled into the Bivi bag, the Bellbirds had long gone and the Moreporks started their shift and were joined by the shrill rattling calls of Kiwi. Lying there soaking up all this and thinking about tomorrows hunt I must have drifted off, but before long I was woken by a barking deer somewhere in the bush above camp. I don’t know if I was imagining it but the barks seemed deeper than usual and that had me wondering if it was a stag. Way later in the very small hours I was woken again this time by several full on roars emanating from the Saddle –exciting stuff.
On the morrow I got my hunting gear together as I chugged back a coffee and scuffed some muesli bars. I considered exploring the saddle for last night’s stag but decided to stick with the plan to tackle the two stags in ‘P. Valley’. It was still dark as I left camp, but travel on the tramping track was easy even without the headlamp on. As I crested the saddle the sky was lightening and the Stags below were roaring intermittently. I occasionally let out a roar if my boys went quiet just to illicit a reply and confirm they were still around, but by the time I left the track to ascend to the first stag they were roaring regularly to one another so I shut up.
I don’t know how many of you have been to ‘Particular Valley’, but it’s black beech forest that drips with honey dew and wasps. Progress was noisy with pole thickets to push through, windfall to climb over and stands of bushlawyer to unravel from –progress was v..e...r....y slow and noisy. Within 30 minutes of starting off I sported multiple scratches from the tight beech, scraped and bruised shins from the windfall, skin and clothing torn by the lawyer and a wasp sting. “It’s just as well I’m such a tough motha” I muttered as I wiped the last of the tears from my eyes. It was very evident however that stealth was not possible up this bloody hill. My quarry was going to hear me, so I elected to let out low moans as I ascended to make myself appear to be more deer-like than is actually the case. Thankfully the wind was still in my favour.
As I gained altitude I noticed I was coming across more broadleaf and the occasional semi open areas of forest. It was soon after that I heard the snapping of branches above me. An animal was approaching from the right. I moved to the best possible spot that sported a view uphill of maybe 20m and waited. Next thing I knew there was an urgent rattle of stones out to the left as two animals rushed past at speed. They crashed back down towards the track without my seeing them or even any vague signs of movement. The stag then roared from below seemingly just to be a prick and let me know [as if it wasn’t readily apparent] that he was on to me. A flick of the bic lighter confirmed a slight uphill wind flow –the stag and, I’m guessing, his Hind had heard my approach and moved in to cut my wind when the flow switched upward.
Disappointed, I kept climbing just to check out his territory. I found a number of rubbing posts and scraps and a wallow. Then as per the plan I sidled over to search for his rival. I’ll trim the story here more lawyer, more tears, more wallows, another unseen spooked deer and a tired defeated hunter returns to camp.
*Attachment 44459Wallow and rubbing post in ‘Particular Valley’
That night I hear the stag roaring from the saddle again and decide it would be rude not to visit him before I go. I had the impression this fella was playing smart he kept pretty quiet in the day when his mates were roaring away and only roared himself in the wee hours. During the day he seemed to hole up in the side stream above camp with just a very occasional low moan to betray him.
Dawn found me stalking up to the saddle but predictably he had moved on. I climbed up slope from the saddle with a view to gaining some height before sidling across. Lots of the familiar obstacles but generally easier travel than yesterday. A bit of a deer trail was evident and at times I got a whiff of stag. I didn’t notice any rubs or scrapes however. After gaining a few hundred meters I paused for a break, I hadn’t heard a sound from my mate and no definite sign other than old droppings and the occasional smell. I decided to sidle across the face with a view to later dropping down into camp.
Not too much further on I came across an area with a broken canopy. Underneath were crown ferns and browsed broadleaf dotted over a couple of acres. I could see deer trails through the fern, but couldn’t see any way out onto the slope, as the feed area was surrounded with thick regen interlaced with lawyer. I started circling the feed area looking for an entry point. Fresh sign was now very evident and the rubbing posts which, at over six feet, high dwarfed any of yesterdays finds. I decided to try to push through a section of thicket to check out the feed area. As I gingerly squeezed my way through the pole beech a moan emerged from the bush on the far side of the feed area. I extracted myself and tried to stalk around the outside of the feed area to the source of the single moan. But never saw or heard anything else.
Attachment 44461
One of Saddle Stags rubs -the top of the gouges were over six feet up the tree.
This was my last day, but on the hike out I was enthusiastically making plans to come back the next weekend. Unfortunately we had several days of heavy rain and so the rivers were up to the point of blocking access. That was the end of my Roar for 2014.
2015 Roar
I didn’t hunt the same catchments again until the next Roar, 2015. I walked in via the same route and again enjoyed an encouraging amount of Stag vocalisations as I progressed up the valley. I set up camp in the same place, although I did think twice about it. Camp is on the tramping track just a few hundred meters below the Saddle Stags territory and given the barking I heard last year I’m pretty sure that he or his harem had smelt me. But having said that they tolerated me and I guessed they were accustomed to smelling humans pretty regularly due to it being a popular tramping route.
The whole trip was almost a replay of the last years, following the same routines almost to the letter. The first afternoon I crossed into ‘Particular Valley’ and listened to where the stags were and looked for any other hunters. Throughout the day I had noted numerous chopper flights with several party’s being dropped off on the surrounding peaks. Down the track I found John camped out, he had dropped down from the tops with a meat animal and was planning on walking out at his leisure over the next two days. An amiable older fella I had a quite a talk to him [you got the impression he had missed human company for the last few days] about his experiences hunting and working in the area. I bid him farewell after a cuppa and made my way back to camp.
It was with some relief that I heard the local Stag again that night roaring from near the Saddle “He’s still around….made it through another year… good on you buddy” But following last years script I again spent my first full day hunting the upper reaches of ‘Particular Valley’…with essentially the same result. I learnt more about the area, found a couple more wallows and rubs but no deer were seen let alone secured. Again the rubs did not compare height-wise to those of Saddle Stags.
I got back to camp to find John had set up near my possie. He was moving pretty slowly and had decided to camp here before finishing his walk out tomorrow. I cooked my meal and soon retired to bed after a hard day on the hill and John hit the hay even earlier.
Next morning up the hill to visit Stagie. Same old bush, same old lawyer, same lack of stealth. This time I didn’t hear a moan, but the sign was all fresh and indicated he and his girls were in residence. The high point of the outing was finding a large wallow of his.
Attachment 44462
Saddle Stags Wallow
I walked out the next day and while I can’t pretend I wasn’t disappointed that Saddle Boy had eluded me again, I was finding his pursuit intriguing. He was clever or at least very cautious, but each trip I was learning more about him his territory and habits. It was kinda like enjoying a mystery novel or TV show so much that you end up not wanting to finish too quickly but rather take your time and mull over it between reads or episodes. None the less I wanted to finish the job and I decided that I would definitely concentrate my efforts on him next April and ignore his cousins down in ‘Particular Valley’.
2015 Summer Scouting trip
With a view to next years Roar I decided to head back this summer and try to sus the best line of approach to his wallow. With the mire of windfall and lawyer surrounding his feed area and wallow it would be very smart to try to find the best approach well before the Roar and without the pressure of actually hunting.
My nephew Cory has just taken up hunting after a couple of decades just wasting time fishing. He’d got to where he wanted to with the Salmon and was now looking for a new challenge. He’d been out with me on a couple of trips and recently got his first deer, so of course he was super keen when I invited him on an overnighter to check out the wallow. We walked in on a balmy evening after work. A few minutes before the camp we heard a deer crash off. That got me thinking, I’ve had close encounters with deer on around 7-8 occasions in this area over the last couple of years, but have yet to see one! That’s bush hunting for you I guess, well bush hunting for the inept anyway! We made camp in the dark and settled into our bags after a long day of work and walking.
On this excursion only Cory was armed. The plan was to climb up from camp towards the wallow stalking as we went, once there I would scout about for the best routes and Cory might continue up looking for animals. I was expecting there might be hinds around in the feed area, but lower down as we started out there was very little sign. I used the outing to continue Cory’s hunting education pointing out the broadleaf and other favoured feed plants etc.
We travelled as carefully as we could but with the thick vegetation and two stalkers snapping branches and rustling bushes a fair bit of noise accompanied our progress. We got to a point I could see the terrain ahead was flattening off to a small terraced area. I was pretty sure this was where the feed and wallow were. I pointed it out to Cory and advised him to slow down.
Cresting the terrace we had to push through a pole thicket before emerging into the semi open. Just a couple of steps out and Cory tensed and put his hand up signalling me to stop. I waited as he raised the rifle and checked something out through the scope. Then – BOOM – Bugger me!.. he must have seen a deer. I looked up in time to see a large antlered animal running off to the left before it was swallowed up by the bush. We could hear its progress for a few seconds and then silence. We waited for 10 minutes but heard no more. In excited whispers Cory told me the stag had be on it’s feet and alert to the noise we had made coming through the thicket. Cory had seen his red-brown flank which stood out amongst the surrounding greys and greens. However the stags engine room and head were out of view behind a tree, which is also why he hadn’t seen us. The stag knew something was up though and had taken a step back so it could look past the tree …and that’s when Cory shot him.
Now we were both amped and wanting to find our stag. It’s funny how reliving the stags last move we both believed he had run off in a different direction. We scouted around where we thought he’d gone and were both proved wrong!
Time to take a breath and go back to where the stag had been shot and methodically pick up the blood trail. Once we’d tuned into this, finding a splatter of blood on a sapling here a hoof print there we slowly joined the dots until Cory found his prize. Handshakes and big smiles all around. It felt great to know that I’d been rewarded for my efforts of getting to know the lay of land and the animal’s habits over the last couple of years. All successful hunts are earned but this success was a long time coming and felt especially rewarding. The beast at our feet was a beautiful 10 pointer, in velvet and in fantastic condition. As the butchering got underway we noted the fat he’d been collecting since winter.
Attachment 44463
We can't know for sure whether this was the ’Saddle Stag’ but his head gear was big enough to account for the rubs I’d seen. There’s only one way to be certain, Cory and I plan to be back at my now traditional campsite come April. I’ll listen out for the sneaky Saddle Stag’s roar in the dead of night after his having kept quiet all day..and I'll admit I'm gonna be a little sorry when I don’t hear him. We have a good handle on where the wallow is though and given it’s such a great feed area I’m sure a rival would soon take it over giving Cory and I another challenge to take on.
