Saturday afternoon I'm driving down the road and see @Micky Duck in his work truck approaching. I flag him down and ask "you keen for a hunt tomorrow" I knew the answer was going to be yes even though at first he said something like he should attend church but I quickly convinced him that he won't lose his beliefs if he didn't go.
06.30 was the agreed pick up time at Mickys place and he and dog Meg were waiting in the driveway when me and my son Ryan (14) arrived.
Down to the hills out the back of Banjoville (Waimate) we went and started the grunt up the track towards the first viewpoint. Bit of pig sign around the bottom clearings but no animals seen.
Once at the viewpoint it quickly became apparent that there was no view. The forecast of morning fog and drizzle was bang on so on with the billy it was for a quick cuppa.
The mist wasn't looking like it would clear soon so we slowly made our way further up the ridge with a bit of track maintenance done as we progressed.
Up over the top we went and down the other side we were now in better looking country with the confused weather still not sure if it wanted to clear up, drizzle or rain.
Approaching a small saddle a wallaby bolted across a clear patch in the tussock with Micky quickly in action on the 223 but this time a miss.
Just a bit further a Micky starts waving his hand gesturing Ryan up to his position, down across a small creek a wallaby had been spotted about 100 metres away. I asked Ryan if he would like to have a shot and he was keen as. Being in waist high tussock meant it was going to be a standing shot and Micky suggested I use my rifle as a resting post for the 223. I knelt down and held my rifle vertical while Ryan and Micky got the 223 supported and lined up. After checking Ryan was nice and comfortable and could see the wallaby in the scope Micky pushed the bolt closed and told Ryan it was ready to go.
Now ready, Ryan followed his training, nice firm grip on the rifle, aim small and squeeze trigger gently. The crack sounds and immediately the wallaby tumbles into the tussock looking as dead as a dead thing. High fives and cheers all round as we all celebrate a couple of firsts in this single moment. This is Ryans first ever animal taken and also the first shot he has had using a centrefire rifle. He has shot a fair bit of paper and tin cans with the 22lr and 22mag and learnt how to use both open sights and a scope. To say he was stoked is an understatement, with the weather we were experiencing this certainly put the day into a different light from the miserable shit we had endured for the morning.
Down for a few photos and a look at shot position which was right through the base of the neck then back up onto the ridge where Micky was waiting. Once close enough I saw that look on Mickys face that told me he had seen something a bit exciting. Over the other side he had spotted quite a few wallabies at various ranges. Moving forward to a bit of a knoll I set up the 270 and lined up on one of the closer ones about 150m away. Off the shot flies and the wallaby is still sitting there wondering what just flew past it. Confused at the miss and with the wallaby now out of sight I line up on a white patch of ground at the same range and got Micky to spot for me. He said the shot was left and low a bit so that gave me an indication of where to adjust my aim.
Just along the spur more wallabies were see across the gully at about 200m. A couple more misses from me and a miss from Micky then the rain came back in and the visibility disappeared down to about 50m.
We decided to make our way back towards home at this stage so slowly worked our way along the main ridge and then down though the bush to the creek. It was down here that Micky picked up a wallaby moving at full speed at about 40m. A shot that was bloody impressive to see.
Now across the creek we trudged up the steep face through the bush till we broke out into the tussock which as we continued to climb had the odd battle through the thick gorse that has overtaken most of the lower slopes.
Finally back to the main track we unleashed our pruning gear and leather gloves and dealt to some of the gorse that was trying its best to make the access inhumane. Making it back to the truck at about 4pm we made our way home with the heater warming up our damp cold clothing. What else would you rather do on a crappy weather Sunday.
