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Hello from New Zealand

Hi guys been hanging around on this site a little lately so thought I would say hi and put up a little story I did on a local hunting site from late last year.

I am from New Zealand and have been a bowhunter for a long time but only ever dabbled at it till recently. Now I am putting in some effort to become more profficient at hunting bigger game.
So far I only have rabbits, and goats to my name but I am working on adding deer and pigs to that.

For those who don't know hunting in NZ is a little different than in the States: We are allowed to hunt all year round. Deer, turkeys, pigs, goats and pretty much any introduced mammal are considered pests by our government and they regularly conduct poison drops to try and keep the numbers down, and pay helicopter operators to do search and destroy missions culling animals from the air.

This means that the deer and pigs are very wary as they are under constant hunting pressure and you have to make sure the area you are planning to hunt has not had a poison drop in the last few months.

Often getting to an area that holds good numbers of animals involves walking for a good three hours or more, mostly uphill through steep country.

Most of this hunt was in terrain we refer to as "The tops" basically once you get to a certain altitude the trees and scrub thin out and stop and are replaced by tussock grass, and low bushes, not the best country to try and get close with a bow in!

Other hunting is usually bush stalking in cover that can be very thick. Pretty challenging stuff and I am still chasing my first deer with a bow, but its getting closer...

Anyway here is the report from my last major hunting trip. hope you enjoy it.

Well along with a couple of others on this site I didn't manage to get out after any wild cattle so myself and a mate decided to head up into the Ruahines where I had been on the first NAF hunt, over the weekend of the 10th/11th

The night before we headed out I got a call asking if I was packed yet? Being a bit of a last minute sort of a guy I replied no and was told well I am all sorted and ready to go!

We got to the carpark about 10:00am on the Thursday morning and I quickly changed into my hunting gear and turned around to find Mr "I am all ready to go" with crap spread everywhere trying to stuff it into his already brimfull pack.

This earned him the nickname Mother Hubbard as he appeared to be trying to get all the contents of his cupboards at home in there, and took forever to get it all stowed away.
Eventually most of it went into his daypack which he wore in front on the way up the hill

I tried lifting his pack and just about ruptured myself laughing as it was so heavy, I quickly told him not to try lifting my pack as it was far heavier than his.

Getting up the slip detour he started to slow down so I waited and took a pic at about three quarters of the way up.

To be fair his pack ended up weighing 28Kg when we got back and he does only weigh 62Kg himself.

We stopped for a wee rest and he desperated handed me an orange and some peanut brownies to help cut down on the weight. This handing out of free food became a bit of a theme to the trip.

We eventually made it to Rangi without incident although at one point I thought he might succumb to the dreaded altitude sickness, but no he struggled on with his load all the way to the hut.

We decided to press on from the hut planning to camp another 2 - 3 hours walk further up but the weather started to close in so we decided to camp off the track. We got the tent up just before the rain hit and the mist closed in.

This was not looking good but Mother Hubbard treated me to a meal of garlic mushrooms lightly sauteed in butter... It was becoming apparent where all the weight was coming from when he tossed up whether to do some steak as well and shared out another orange.

The next morning dawned bright and clear and we went out for a glass of some faces after putting on our frozen boots.
No luck that morning so we packed up and moved to our camp further up in the range.

That night we walked off to a spot I hunted with Cooch last time I was up there, me with my bow and Mother Hubbard with his .270 leaving his bow in camp (another reason his pack was so heavy!)

We set up an ambush with me off to the side of a nice little bowl surrounded by scrub and M.H up the end covering it with the rifle.
Exactly on cue with about 15 min of light left three deer wandered into sight. They were hidden from me by some leatherwood and they were in a little gully, but I could hear them moving up to a shooting lane within bowshot. M.H was watching them through his binos and all of a sudden there was a bark and a head shot up into view, it stayed there for a while and I could see the steam coming from her breath and then it dissapeared along with the sound of retreating bodies and the occasional bark.

I looked up at M.H and the bino's had been replaced with a scope and he was squirming around trying to get a shot at one of them.
The .270 spoke out with a resulting flash of brown movement just before the scrub, a few seconds later there was another shot and M.H started making his way over to me. I gave him a thumbs up but he shook his head "Its wounded, but I don't know if its down" BUGGER! With only about 10min of sunlight left we decided to go looking straight away. M.H got down there in a flash and by the time I got there was looking down into the thick bush shaking his head. I said we needed to start looking for a blood trail, and was thinking "Man they leave a strong scent" when I looked down and about 1 meter away there she was a yearling hind curled up in the tussock stone dead.

This was the first deer for either of us and we were rapt! She may not have been a trophy but she was to us.

Then it was off with the hind legs and back steaks and a two hour slog uphill back to camp.

The next couple of days were not that eventfull, we tried the same area the next night but no deer were seen and we got misted in on the way home. Visibility was down to about 2m and it was dark. Despite M.H being confident of finding camp just with his compass I was bloody glad I had a GPS with me! And once we hit the high point of the ridge we would never have found the tent without it, it may only be a basic Etrex "Yellow Peril" but it saved us a cold damp night on the tops!

Here are a few more photos from the trip.

Frozen Tarn

Mother hubbards lunch... Bagels with cream cheese, avoccado, smoked salmon, and a sprinkling of salt and pepper.

M.H against the sun

Me the same

Skiing

The mountain

All in all a great time was had, and I am more keen than ever to get a deer with the bow, time to start watching those clearings full of spring grass!