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This year I had 3 weeks leave booked, but the only firm plans were for the first 10 days ... which involved a long walk with a pack full of gear and food for me & Mazz the dog. After a couple of days we'd seen a few deer and heard the odd roar, but warm Nor'westers seemed to be keeping things quiet. We found ourselves in a promising valley when this stag boldly appeared late one evening and let out a hearty roar, in the middle of a very large river flat (click "read more" below for the rest) ... 
It was a long shot and the stag made it to the bush but, after the commotion had finally ended, Mazz easily located where he'd fallen.  A very average head and the massive body makes the 35" rack look even smaller, but I decided he'd do and we bailed for a couple of West Coast spots where the heads might be smaller, but known for roaring action. Sure enough, the roar was on and this critter was in full noise at midday before dropping at close range, still roaring like crazy, just before 1pm 
Packing up and hitting the road again (we did lots of driving!), it was my boy Zion's turn for a shot. After spooking a stag at close range in very thick bush, I managed to roar it back over an intense 20 minutes. Zion was full of stag fever as he could only see tines on top of staggy-boy's antlers. After an anxious couple of minutes with no movement from us or staggy, Zion slowly stood up and composed himself to squeeze off a shot. Unfortunately he learned the hard way that, at close range, the cross hairs are 1.5" above the bullet's path ... and this branch left him incredibly disappointed (at which stage I mentioned that most hunters could identify with that low feeling after a stuff up - I certainly can!) 
We had a good look, but there was no sign of the stag. I'd been going for two weeks but, with heavy rain forecast and having had a bit of fun, felt it was time to get back for a spell of work. I made plans to return the following Friday though, to have another search with Mazz, in case Zion's target had somehow fallen over dead. After another 5 hour drive on Friday, I'd only walked 15 minutes when this little critter answered a roar and treated me to more fun in the tight bush before it all ended with a shot to the shoulder. 
Sure he's only a four pointer, and the head stayed in the bush, but the meat was needed and it was a fun roar fest. I'll always enjoy those intense stand-offs as roars are exchanged! As expected, Zion's stag wasn't found, but I really enjoyed the final throw of the dice. That was the end of my roar, but I had also managed to catch up with a mate that I hadn't seen for a couple of years. He'd moved to rural Southland and had plenty of fun himself over the roar, but much closer to home than my long walks and road trips. All the action was in the bush with public access (head pics taken at home), but it's not too much of an exaggeration to say their hunting was close to his doorstep. The first victim was a tidy 10 pointer 
then a 12 pointer ... 
and then, crikey ... a bewdy 13 pointer!  
... which has got me thinking, that maybe it's time to leave the city & move back closer to the hunting action! |
