Thread: Up Side Down

@grandpamac has inspired me to jot down a bit about what he has said about his Kaweka revival and what its like for us "mature" old farts.

@Nathan F is correct - it really is a mind thing.

Im 73 this year. I have a blood disease that is treated at hospital 12 weekly and arthritis in most joints including in 2 chambers in each knee. I have had a cataract op in my left eye and have one growing in my right. 2 years ago I had a dodgy tumour removed from inside my neck. I take paracetamol every 4 hours and stronger stuff over the top of that at times.

Every day I do an exercise regime with 4kg bar bells for upper body strength and do more passive exercise like tensioning for my legs.

I try to get out for a hunt about every week. Mainly rough farm land for deer now and several week long trips a year on steep country culling wallaby. A couple of public land deer trips a year now. I live in central Wellington and drive 40K km a year - my average round trip for a deer is 4 hours.

Last year I shot 59 deer - most go to friends and a soup kitchen. This year so far 5. It seems a lot but nothing is wasted and I just love the challenge of the hunt and bizarrely the carry.
I bone the deer out, waste very little and carry some good loads for hours. I bloody love it.

I'm driven by a fear of not being able to be active or hunt. Also driven by my ego and sense of competition and wanting to do stuff with my lads and friends until my last breath, albeit that I mostly hunt on my own.

In terms of big walks Chris flies me into the Kawekas a couple of times each year. Last year Back Ridge and Otutu. At Otutu I walked over to the Manson/Spien Kop and the Burn. Will be back there in March.

A couple of days ago I shot a stag and was following his blood down a steep scrub face and a bank gave way. I did several cart wheels, my rifle flew out of my hands and my torch was ripped off my head. I had a hell of a pain in my right hand and my first reaction was to feel for my PLB on my belt. I was 45 mins from my truck. Any way, I retrieved my torch and looked at my hand and I had 2 dislocated fingers looking wonky so I grimaced and straightened them and then checked my body. At my age your skin is paper thin so there was plenty of blood on the back of my hands but it was really only scuffs to the gel coat so that was ok. My pack had been ripped right off me and that was probably why I had sore neck. Long story short I got my shit together and headed for the truck (I will go back and try to find the stag some time). Got home at 2.30 am and bed at 3am. Terrible cramp every 30 mins until 6.30 am when I got up and had porridge I had a great sleep that after noon.

Earlier in the hunt I had shot a Fallow so at least I did have some meat to take home (190 yards, 7-08).


My dislocated fingers are sore. My neck hurts. My legs are sore.


Anyway, back to this mind over matter thing. I could now sit at home and sulk for a while and recover. Or call it a day and say I'm too old. Or I could suck it up, take some meds and push on. And that's why tomorrow son Craig and I are off to a rough coastal station for an overnight hunt. Im as excited as a kid.

Never give up.