After talking to my good mate Cody, plans were made for a boy’s trip away – dates, times and place were decided. Friday rolled around, Cody picked me up first thing, and we were off.
When we arrived at the back country hut we unpacked then snuck out for a cheeky afternoon walk. After glassing for a while we spotted some pigs –game on!
On the way to the pigs there was a goat feeding in the creek, a quick stalk into 16 metres , a clean shot and the goat was down. Then, back to the main stalk and the pigs.
After sneaking to within 65 metres the wind wasn’t playing the game – we tried, but we were busted at 28 metres . Pigs gone.
We started to walk back, glassing as we went, when we spotted some stags. Once again, I was first up. I made my way in slowly, targeting a stag that was standing in a small clearing. He was standing side on when I ranged him at 38 metres – perfect.
I drew back my bow, levelled the bobble on my sight and let the rest happen. My arrow flew true and hit the mark. A quick radio call to Cody – “your turn” – and then he was off after another one.
I followed my stag’s blood trail til I found him lying in the creek dead. He’d gone no more than fifty metres from where I shot him.
Next thing Cody is on the radio – “One coming your way, oh, hold on, it’s dead” – the boys were on, two stags in the first arvo!
With venison loaded into our bulging packs, we set off back to the hut. The following morning, we were up early, loaded our gear and set off again.
Today’s plan was to walk to the top of a ridge and glass for the morning. After several moves, we’d seen nothing that was worth chasing. As we walked further along the ridge, Cody spotted a funny looking spiker. It had one spike going forward and the other going backwards. We had to take him out of the gene pool.
After a wee stalk I closed the gap to 58 metres . This was pushing my limits but the conditions were perfect so I was confident I could make the shot. As the spiker fed, he turned broadside presenting an ideal heart shot. I drew my bow back, took a big breath and let my process happen. Bingo, another one down. I couldn’t believe my run of good luck.
Walking back down the ridge we came across a flock of goats. I couldn’t help myself, so I snuck in on them too. They had no idea we were there. I drew my bow back and shot the closest one – billy down. I quickly put another arrow on and shot a second one. And then, third arrow, third goat. Better still, I managed to retrieve all three arrows.
Back to the hut for a big feed and to plan for the morning. Up early again, we decided to do a big loop down low. After walking and glassing, checking every little spot possible, nothing was doing. We were almost back at the track when I spotted this orange thing on the side of the creek – it was an old stag feeding.
We stalked down the spur to get in closer. At 77 meters Cody said, “We will get you closer yet, then it’s all yours”.
The pressure was on again, but we managed to get within 50 metres of our target. We found the perfect spot then waited till the stag had his head behind a bush. My heart was pumping madly as I drew my bow string back, but Cody whispered, “You’ve got this mate” so I let my arrow fly.
The stag lurched forward, took two steps and fell over. Down he went.
After finding our way over the creek and up to the old battler I finally got my hands on him – he was very cool, and I was rapt.
More photos. More meat. Back to the hut we went. Our boy’s bow hunting trip could not have been any better – three stags, five goats – along with laughs, learnings and quality hill time.
