Welcome guest, is this your first visit? Create Account now to join.
  • Login:

Welcome to the NZ Hunting and Shooting Forums.

If this is your first visit, be sure to check out the FAQ by clicking the link above. You may have to register before you can post: click the register link above to proceed.

DPT ZeroPak


User Tag List

+ Reply to Thread
Page 1 of 2 12 LastLast
Results 1 to 15 of 27
Like Tree55Likes

Thread: My Roar -Can I get it together this time?

  1. #1
    Member
    Join Date
    Sep 2013
    Location
    Christchurch
    Posts
    87

    My Roar -Can I get it together this time?

    ell it’s time to try for a roar stag again. I took up hunting fairly late in life, about 8 years ago. I’ve learnt a trick or two over the years and consequently do bring some venison back from the hills periodically. But I have never managed to get a stag during the roar. It’s a real frustration for me, a monkey on my back.

    For the last four roars I’ve returned to the same corner of the forest chasing my nemesis ‘Saddle Stag’. I’ve written about my attempts before, I’ve had many exciting stalks but never managed to close the deal. The area is dense bush, beech forest with a lot of regen and dirty belts of lawyer and supplejack. Consequently the deer are hard to spot and really tough to sneak up on. Typically you hear them, see their sign but don’t lay eyes on them.

    I’ve got to know ‘Saddle’, his habits and his territory by piecing together evidence found on each outing.

    Essentially when I first came on the scene he really dominated the area. He wasn’t huge [this isn’t an area with great genetics] but was bigger than his neighbours, going by the rub trees, and each night would assert himself with some impressively deep roars.

    Over the last two seasons, however, his neighbours were getting more stroppy and would challenge him more freely. I can remember laying awake several times for hours listening to him and another stag chasing each other about. In the fights that I’ve overheard he has eventually been able to hold his ground, but with the with the challenges becoming more common I had the impression that his young neighbours were gaining strength each year, while he perhaps was now past his peak.

    This year the walk in is very quiet as far as roaring stags go. It’s hellishly windy and I think the stags just don’t bother competing with the noise. The gusts really lash at the forest and windfall litters the track all along it’s length.

    The wind literally breathes life into the forest –tree tops swaying, limbs waving madly and leaves and dust flying about. All accompanied by the creaks and groans of the straining timber. At times I’m left with the impression that, like me, the surrounding forest is on the march.

    Between gusts the relative calm is a real contrast, the gentle background hum of wasps punctuated with the chimes of bellbirds or the excited twitter of fantails. Then you would pick up the distant howl of another inbound gust, building in sound before it reached your spot, quietening the birds and setting the trees spinning. It puts me in mind of the earthquakes where you could hear the buildings down the street rattling in advance of your own place starting to shudder. But somewhat less poetically, my thoughts get directed to the concern that I’m at risk of being clobbered by a hefty piece of flying windfall.


    Storm damage was evident everywhere and happening all around me.

    By early afternoon I’d reached a portion of the route that was more sheltered, the gusts were far less regular and had lost their bite. As the track came up towards a large slip I started to get the whiff of stag. ‘Time for a break’’ I think, and settle down to lunch as I glass the slope of scattered trees and shrubs. With nothing seen, I start to explore the area and let out a moan to see if I can entice an answer. I’m glad you guys weren’t there to hear this effort, I sounded like an asthmatic poodle struggling to let out a growl [in my defence, I was getting over a nasty cold]. I’m not convinced there is an animal present, thinking instead that maybe a stag had just sprayed it’s calling card and passed on through. Enough time wasted here, I too continue on my journey.



    An hour or so later I pull up at the hut –time for another break. No one is in residence and digging into second lunch I peruse the hut book and write in my own intentions. Just a couple of hours walk now to my proposed camp, I set off up valley. Highlights of this last short haul were the discovery of several sets of deer prints along the trail [at least one of which had to be a stag] and hearing a couple of distant and very lazy moans. Camp was set up quietly as I’m pretty close to Saddle's territory [too close really] and I demolish my last chicken wrap for tea. As the light was fading, various animals started moaning along the length of the valley- down valley, over on the opposite slopes and finally up above in Saddles territory. “Great someone is home, see you tomorrow”, I think to myself. These vocalisations were lacking any real energy or intensity, the rut, it seems, is at an early stage and yet to really amp up.



    My set up is a bivy bag with one of Creed’s polycryo tarps. I’d noticed on my last trip that a small tear had appeared on one side of the tarp and had resolved to tape it up on my return home. And did I? naaahh of course not. Once I pegged out the tarp it was not long before one of the violent wind gusts extended the tear right up to the ridgeline –‘bugga’. I cursed myself, but in fact it wasn’t a disaster as there was only light drizzle overnight and my bivy bag had me covered anyway.



    During the night [twice, I think] Saddle let out some roars from above camp, always reassuring to hear. I woke early next morning and breakfasted in bed, washing it down with a welcome coffee, and then setting out as soon as it was light enough to navigate. I was somewhat conflicted about the hunt. Thoughts alternated between being keen to try and get to grips with my quarry and more negative thinking dwelling on how the bloody deer in this forest keep teaching me humbling lessons and aren’t I just banging my head against a brick wall? But I think it was the great Daniel Boone who said ‘you don’t shoot them sitting at home watching the telly’.

    As I set out fate handed out several disappointments. First, two minutes into my stalk a deer uphill barked several times. While concerned, I wasn’t convinced that the animal was aware of my presence, the wind was downhill and the barks seemed too distant to indicate that I’d been heard or spotted.

    Next I came across a track hacked through the undergrowth by hunters that hadn’t been there last year. The sawn branches raised the question was I too late?, although last night’s roars had confirmed there was a stag still holding this territory. None the less I admit to being disappointed to learn that I was sharing the area. Of course it is likely others have always been hunting here but the track seemed to rub my nose in the fact.

    The next thing was, when I started coming across the stag’s rubs it became apparent there had been a regime change. The fresh rubs were all just above elbow height whereas in previous years Saddle’s rubs had reached up to my shoulder. I’d love to know the story, did a hunter take Saddle or had a rival finally managed to oust him. Either way, it’s the natural order-a predator opens up a vacancy for a successor to take over or, through aging, the monarch is forced to bow out.

    But, back up the hill I still have a stag to hunt. Or do I? I haven’t heard from him this morning, has he slipped away? There were those barks first thing after all. I continue up towards the wallow and the general area I think last night’s roaring had come from. A neighbouring stag lets out a moan. I pause, ears straining to pick up any reply from Saddle 2 but there is none. On I continue using the other hunter’s trail, which certainly makes progress much quieter.

    Then confirmation, a half-hearted roar from my boy high above, “he’s still here and isn’t on to me!” My progress is slow I really concentrate on moving as quietly as possible and stay very alert for any animals, peering through the thick undergrowth for clues. As usual here, as the morning goes on the wind starts playing up. To my consternation gusts periodically switch direction and blow my scent uphill. As this becomes more regular and with my not hearing any more from my stag I worry he has been warned of my approach. I continue but start to mull over what is my best tactic –should I retreat now so as not to disturb the place too much and try again tomorrow or even rest the area and come back the day after. Then I –FREEZE- off to my left, maybe 50 metres away, is the sound of an animal moving about, but with the intervening thicket I can see nothing. It sure sounds bigger than the blackbird’s leaf litter rustling that had had me tense up about 20 minutes earlier. Then a low moan followed by silence.

    It was my stag but what is he up to? Is he standing alert listening out for me? –do I dare continue? Or is he still on the move, but in a more open, less noise producing patch? I wait 5-10 minutes straining to hear anything, eyes fighting to penetrate the surrounding vegetation. I finally elect to move on, I can’t move directly towards the sound due to an extensive patch of pole beech. I make some final preparations, wipe the sweat from my eyes and adjust my face mask, check that the scope hasn’t fogged up and throw a mint into my gob to suppress a persistent irritating cough. Then start climbing to the right, heading to the top of the spur line. I recall there is a deer trail here that I can follow along the crest and then drop away from towards the stag.

    I gain the spur and slowly, cautiously advance, passing a slight knoll as I head to the openish area near the wallow, down which I hope to descend relatively quietly. I know I’m close now and really worry about the scatty wind revealing my presence to the stag before I even lay eyes on him. Occasionally the wind brings me the stag scent, but I’m not sure if it’s directly from the animal or if it’s emanating from the wallow.

    A step or two, scan ahead left and right, scan again take another step. He’s too close for me to try a roar, he’ll have me sussed by the time my first spluttering syllable is out there.

    Where is he? What’s he up to? is he on to me?, has he slipped away or is he keeping quiet watching my progress waiting for me to pass? -where the hell is he?

    Another whiff of stag, I know I’m close to the wallow now, so angle higher to gain a view down on to it -where the figgen hell is he? Then a roar from a distant neighbour. “Come on”, I pray “answer him buddy, let me know where you are”. Silence, silence friggen silence.

    Then a laid back “mmmmaaaaawww”. It’s him, but he’s behind me. I’ve bloody well walked right past him - “shit!!” “OK, OK, don’t panic, the wind has dropped down to nothing, for now at least, - just quietly work your way back”

    I retrace my steps, still can’t see any sign of the bugga. “That knoll I passed, I bet that’s where he’s holed up" I watch the slope ahead as I close the gap –nothing –windfall, fern, mature beech and regen, a couple of deer trails maybe and some rubs that I hadn’t noticed initially but no animal.

    A small flock of greenfiches flit noisily through the tree tops this carefree movement seems to lower the tension that has been building in me. “Take some breathes dude, and continue, you’re doing fine. If he’d taken off you’d have heard him crashing through the bush.”

    At the base of the slight knoll I pause for an extended period hoping he’ll sound off again and searching behind every bush with my eyes but to no avail. I then pick out a feasible route to sidle around the knoll and cautiously start out.

    Just a few steps into my journey another low moan from my boy and my eyes immediately lock on to a set of antlers hovering above some saplings. “There he is !!”, but there is no visible animal - no body, no head just the top portion of his antlers. Without taking my eyes off his [modest] head gear I work the bolt and manage to do so all but silently, which raises no interest from the stag. I wait hoping he will move and offer me a target but he remains where he is. I then need to move to open up a better perspective -“easy mate don’t blow it this time”- I step out to the right I have a better line of sight between the intervening trees but can still only make out antlers.

    I take another s-l-o-w step, “there’s his head”. Seeing his head gives me a better impression of the distance between us and I’m shocked how close he is, certainly no more than 30 metres. He appears relaxed, but glances my way, no doubt having noted some movement. But his suspicions are not aroused and he turns away again in profile.

    His body remains obscured, just his head poking out from behind some saplings and windfall. Then he moves – maybe he’d been lying down and then stood or maybe he’d taken a step forward I couldn’t tell, but now I had antler, head and neck.

    He extended his head forward a let out another moan “mmmmaaa”

    BOOMMPHHHHHFFFFF

    The shot was good and he collapses on the spot. I recall lining up on the neck but not any cognisant decision to take the shot, it had just seemed to flow automatically. I take a few breaths and watch the spot where he’d fallen. With no movement evident, I go forward, as I close the gap he starts kicking. There is no co-ordinated attempt to regain his feet however and while I was sure he was dead I gave him another just to be sure, in case he was still suffering.



    The photo's aren't awesome, but it's tough to create an impressive 'hero shot when your working with a mug like mine and a pretty average 9 pointer.

    A sense of relief rather than celebration floods over me. Finally I’d managed to down a stag in the roar after years of failed attempts. It had been a long journey and the stag at my feet was reward not just for this hunt but all the stalks I’d put in here over the last four years. And I felt amply rewarded too, this nine pointer is no record book animal by any stretch of imagination, but he’d provided an exciting, nerve racking stalk that could have gone either way. In the end I managed to shoot him as he was roaring, just 30 metres distant and with no idea that I was there. I could not have asked for more.

    I harvest the meat and remove his head. I’m well aware that this modest animal is one that many, more accomplished, hunters would have elected to pass up, but my God to me he is an unquestionably treasured trophy.

    Timmay, madjon_, Savage1 and 40 others like this.

  2. #2
    Gone but not forgotten Gapped axe's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2012
    Location
    Lake Tarawera
    Posts
    4,044
    Absolutely a trophy and hard earned as well. Buy that man a beer
    "ars longa, vita brevis"

  3. #3
    Member Mangle's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2014
    Location
    Wairarapa
    Posts
    382
    Awesome read fella....thanks for taking the time to post !
    Sideshow likes this.

  4. #4
    Gone................. mikee's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2012
    Location
    Nelson, New Zealand
    Posts
    9,647
    Awesome. You should send your post to a hunting mag. Its the best written hunting report i have read in ages. Well done on the stag
    Puffin, GWH, Scouser and 5 others like this.
    All those with dogs waiting no longer fear death. Those with many dogs waiting even welcome it in it's time.

  5. #5
    GWH
    GWH is offline
    Member
    Join Date
    Jul 2012
    Location
    Napier, Hawkes Bay
    Posts
    4,456
    Very cool story, enjoyed that. To me a great trophy can be anything that has great meaning and importance to you, so in that case, that stag could well be your most precious, even if you end up shooting a bigger head.

    Very well done.

  6. #6
    Rabbit Herder StrikerNZ's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2012
    Location
    South Canterbury
    Posts
    1,768
    Fantastic.. the adventures of Saddle Stag have been a story I've always looked forward to hearing more of each roar. Perhaps in a way it's fitting that the original Saddle stag never quite meets his end, but slips away into an unknown fate?

  7. #7
    Member Sideshow's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2015
    Location
    UK
    Posts
    7,900
    Nar that's not him? you really sure that's him I recon he's still there waiting for episode two
    It's all fun and games till Darthvader comes along
    I respect your beliefs but don't impose them on me.

  8. #8
    Member
    Join Date
    Aug 2016
    Location
    Gisborne Rural
    Posts
    3,252
    @footsore thanks for sharing that one hell of a story mate. A hunt you will never forget. It would take me four years to wright that

  9. #9
    Member
    Join Date
    Jan 2018
    Location
    kaiapoi
    Posts
    6,697
    Yup. anti hunters don't understand the work that goes into this and because of this even though by your admission it isn't a super impressive head, the hard work and effort makes it very special.
    well done.

  10. #10
    #KnowsFuckAll Dorkus's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2015
    Location
    Mangawhai
    Posts
    1,310
    Awesome story and a well earned trophy. I've been following your journey with "Saddle Stag" and stoked for you that you managed to get the better of him this year.
    "I heard Jesus did cocaine on a night out. Eyes wide-open, dialated, but he's fine now. And if his father ever finds out, then he'd probably knock his lights out...
    Gets a little messy in heaven "
    - Venbee

  11. #11
    Member chainsaw's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2014
    Location
    Norf
    Posts
    5,430
    congrats - thanks for sharing. Great story of a bush hunting trophy in the tight stuff.

  12. #12
    A shortish tall guy ROKTOY's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2016
    Location
    Nelson
    Posts
    3,264
    Excellent write up, You can feel the tension you were experiencing as you read it.
    Top effort.

  13. #13
    Member
    Join Date
    Sep 2013
    Location
    Christchurch
    Posts
    87
    Cheers Guys
    I really appreciate the kind feedback.

  14. #14
    nak
    nak is offline
    Member
    Join Date
    Jun 2016
    Location
    Oz
    Posts
    94
    Nice work

  15. #15
    Member
    Join Date
    Jul 2014
    Location
    BOP
    Posts
    3,907
    Great story, a trophy is whatever you make of it, it doesn't have to be a record book one as I think the effort you put in to get this stag make it a trophy you will always remember. Well Done, but it sounds as if there are a few other stags around the "saddle" that need checking. Look forward to chapter two.
    Scouser likes this.

 

 

Similar Threads

  1. Peak time roar
    By stevodog in forum Hunting
    Replies: 20
    Last Post: 22-03-2018, 06:03 PM
  2. Roar Time Again
    By 260rem in forum Firearm Safety
    Replies: 13
    Last Post: 23-03-2017, 10:35 PM
  3. Long time stalker... first time poster
    By Jimmynostars in forum Introductions
    Replies: 6
    Last Post: 10-07-2014, 07:33 PM
  4. Howdy, 1st time poster long time gun nut signing in.
    By Chupacabra in forum Introductions
    Replies: 14
    Last Post: 28-05-2013, 07:15 PM

Tags for this Thread

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
Welcome to NZ Hunting and Shooting Forums! We see you're new here, or arn't logged in. Create an account, and Login for full access including our FREE BUY and SELL section Register NOW!!