A couple of points before I spin a yarn of our short Ruahine Roar hunt.
My phone had a woopsy due to excess water so I apologize for the lack of pics. Secondly I apologize for my Grammer
So myself and my old army mate were keen for a Roar Hunt but as always pressed for time . It was supposed to be a two day hunt but had been shortend to one day Friday over night. We rushed after work to get to a road end and humped packs up stupidly steep hills to get to a creek!. We started up a likely creek were we could hear Animals roaring either side of the ridge we intended to camp on. It was quite choked up with onga onga so slowed our progress and daylight was disappearing fast. The next bend forced our hand as we starred at a 5 m water fall with walls either side. Left it was straight up a scree slope filled with vines which after about 150m worth we felt we deserved some luck and sure enough we poped up on a small spur which took us directly on the main ridge we wanted to be on. They were roaring left and right of us as we cut out water proff punga leaves and pig fern beds we soon sat down and cooked our feeds and made our plans for the morning
All through the night they roared and is was entertaining to listen to the many different types. We named a few and had a few giggles. Morning came after a very comfortable sleep despite the rain my bivi bag came up trumps as did my new sleeping bag, a black ice synthetic bag which I decided to try for the wetting qualities. So morning greeted us with a nasty head on breeze total fucking our chance of hunting up and around the ridge we were on......not to mention the clagg which was down to 200m. We had no choice but to hunt down the ridge I to the wind and towards the only roaring stag we could hone in on. This didn't pan out as he shut down as we got closer to his location.
We decide to hump up to a steep ridge which my mate who is still a serving infantryman eats for breeky but me on the other hand........well there were more zigzags heading up the slope than a zigzag machine! While he just straight lined it to the top laughing at me, I threw rocks at him but he was to far ahead so they missed
We got to the next ridge with a poor wind behind us, we didn't give up we just got side on to the wind and with what little time we had left we bush hunted letting out the odd roar again to try our luck in some really nice stag country but to no avail. We both looked at our watches and said Aunty Huia ( army speak for end of excersize ) . Satisfied we had tried hard enough even with wind and clagg we walked of the ridge 5 mins down my mate spotted two shapes in the mist on a very steep slope 300 m away. "Good eyes bro" was my response we didn't fuck around we hatched a plan to get to a flatter spot as we were almost vertical from them we got there quickly and ranged them at 270 m and through the scope I picked out a scrubby stag and my mate made a bead on the yearling having a nap below it. This next bit is a classic " ok bro count to three boom ok" yep so 123 then boom?" "yea bro 123 boom I've got the stag and you shoot the yearling ok?" "roger" " ok I'm on the stag are you on your yearling " "yes " " ok count bro" "three" longish pause........ "two" another longish but not as long as the other pause "one" he went to say boom as he wanted a test run "boom!" I rolled my stag he borked and missed his yearling
we sat there laughing for a minute calling each other oopsys and mummy's boys then headed down the hill towards the creek they were across from. As we got closer to the creek we quickly realized they were on the other side of a nasty gorge we had to head almost back to the farmland 1km away to dump packs and boost it up the creek to find them hopefully perched a hundred or so meters above us. Another onga onga choked creek and as we headed further up we began climbing up small water falls and the creek walls become steeper and darker we then came to the spot we figured they were above and like beer grylls we literally scaled a gorge wall using only tree branches to grab and step on and dodge falling boulders from my spiderman mate. We didn't realize how high we got so quickly but managed to land straight on the stag! !. Stage one of the retrieval complete as I quickly dressed the stag out in the back of my mind was how the fuck are we gonna get back to that creek as we were perched on a bluff covers in tussuck. ......a at this point I tried my camera to get a idea of the position we were in and it was not working. .....bugger. back wheels front wheels back steaks and eye fillets and after my mate insisted quite vigorously I took the head aswell:?:cry: fillets in my pockets and I tied the front legs together and carried my trophy head whole my mate carried the back wheels and back steaks. " ok let's get the fuck out of here"........."how"......."fuck knows " laughing follows with the old why did you shot the fucking thing followed by fuck you 50 50 isn't it?..........we stood up and decided to sidle along with grabbing the hill with our hands and eyebrows until we hit some eye watering low scrub .
Now I have shot a few deer in the Ruahines now and I've had some bell ringer retreivals but the next hr and a bit to get of this hill has left me scarred
we grunted fell tripped slid threw animal parts down creeks and ate onga onga you name it we fucking ate it drunk it scrapped every part we owned in and on it..........but we fucking made it out!!!!.
I love days like that when you think its all over then an opertunity presents and you take it and own it like a desperate ooppsy would ha ha ha .hot barrels boys I'm basking in a win!
Sent from my GT-I9195 using Tapatalk