Last year I got it into my head that I'd like to start a bit of shooting with the aim of hunting on a recreational level. I have always had a bit of a love affair with the outdoors so hunting seemed a logical progression somehow. As I'm sure is common with rookie shooters I had grand dreams of freezers overflowing with venison and pork, and a wall lined with the biggest heads on record and more time spent in the hills than home. I was quickly made very aware of the reality of how things typically progress and to be fair I was realistic about my chances.
A few weeks ago a friend of mine suggested we go for a hunt during the roar. It would be my first time hunting deer so I got stuck in reading a couple of books, doing a bit of research on the DOC website and buying as much of the required gear with a fairly limited budget. We decided to head into the Kaimanawas, aiming for the Waipakihi hut at the end of the Umakarikari track.
The morning finally arrived, I was picked up at around 3 or 4 in the morning and we headed south. Arriving at the end of Kaimanawa Road we were pleasantly surprised to find it empty, so we parked up and hit the trail. I quickly found I had been perhaps a little overzealous with my packing so rearranged the pack and after just one false start we were actually off. About halfway through we heard a stag roaring down a valley so we stopped and gave a few roars, getting a couple of responses but decided against going for it, it would have been hours added to the trip and we didn't know the area at all. Still, it was encouraging to know there was potential for success!
Now I don't consider myself particularly fit or anything, though not in terrible shape either, but within a couple of hours I was feeling very much out of my league. The bad news was there was only one direction I could go, so I found another gear and managed to get to the hut without incident and comfortably within the prescribed timeframe Getting drenched on the tops reminded me that I should have considered a pack lining of some description so I know for future now!
Once we got to the hut we got ourselves set up, I hadn't stayed in a DOC hut for longer than 15 years and wasn't sure what to expect so was stoked with the mansion we found ourselves in! Running water and a long drop was more than I was expecting. Having it to ourselves as a bonus too. I wasn't prepared for the beauty of the place! Such a spectacular spot, the fog settled in the valleys, amazing river beds and green hills made for amazing views
We spent the evening checking out our new neighbourhood and we were pleased to find the valley tons of sign: old shit, new shit, heaps of what looked like bedding areas. There had to be deer in the area, and we couldn't wait to find them. We explored ridges and spurs and river beds and scrubby tight bush but animal count spotted remained at zero. We were doing our best to keep the wind in our face, go slower than slow yet still cover ground. We spent the Thursday and Friday doing the same, exploring, checking what we considered to be likely spots and just enjoying the solitude. How about that serenity!
We hadn't heard roaring stags like we were hoping for, we found a couple deep in a thick valley and spent a few hours trying to get closer to them but if they eluded us. On the way back from our last attempt on the Friday evening I heard a squeal, the sort of squeals we had heard during the night but not yet during the day and I looked up, only to see a hind's white backside heading up a hill about 50 metres in front of us! I let out a yell (someone once told me that a short sharp sound sometimes makes animals that are legging it stop for a second) and much to my surprise it stopped and turned down the hill broadside! Before I knew it I had chambered a Hornady round and had the animal in my crosshairs. I was shaking like a dog shitting razorblades and I pulled the shot, the projectile striking the old girl in the leg. She limped along while I reloaded and my mate took aim, hitting her with another poorly placed shot, straight through the gut. She headed around the hill much quicker than I thought she could and we eagerly followed, not keen to let her get away. We raced through the marsh around the hill to find her trying to cross the creek. I swiftly dispatched her with a better placed neckshot and it was all over. Neither of us could believe it, it was our first ever deer! A healthy Sika hind
We dragged it up the bank to take a few grainy photos and get into the gutting, and carried it back to the hut to hang overnight. A bunch of guys had choppered in that afternoon and they shared some butchering experience with us and a couple of beers which we were very grateful for.
As dawn broke on the Saturday we got stuck into boning the carcass out and cleaning up after ourselves as it was home time. The weather was spectacular for the walk out, and we were both still rapt with the result, our packs heavy with success, beginners luck, or whatever else you wanna call it!
5 hours later we arrived at the carpark and I've never been happier to see wheeled transport! We were both gutted to be heading back to Auckland traffic and away from the bush but still over the moon with how the trip went, having learnt a couple valuable lessons. The shit thing is my mate is moving down the line in a couple of weeks so I will be without a hunting buddy but I cannot wait to get out there and do it all over again
Bookmarks