Hunting with the Kiwi in New Zealand
Swap hunts! What a brilliant idea I thought as the conceptual but seemingly dim light bulb started to appear over my head. This gave me an idea to strike a deal with someone wanting to visit
Thailand and dump some frequent flyer miles before they expired.
Regardless of how silly the wife thought it was, off to the races I went with my plan as I hit every hunting bulletin board over the inter net.
My intentions were to trade a trip to Thailand for a hunt in Alaska or outside of North America. One of the many but more serious replies came from a New Zealander named Neil Mercer.
It just so happened that sometimes later we met in a hunting chat room and started talking about hunting red stags in New Zealand. Although Neil has been a guide for other outfitters all his life, he started his own game estate on the southern tip of the North Island called Kanuka Wilderness a few years back.
Over the following year, e-mails and phone calls were exchanged on a routine basis. The decision was final. I could not pass up the chance to hunt what I would later find to be super red stags. Although the swap hunt seemed to be a great idea, we decided that I would come as a client and consider the swap hunt for a later date.
Learning more about hunting red stags, I found that April was indeed the time to go, as the breeding season or roar would be at its peak.
After watching several videos from hunting outfitters in New Zealand, I was amazed at the various species on both the North and South Islands. Needless to say, it did not take much motivation to start planning my New Zealand adventure. There were just a few minor obstacles to maneuver around first. Such as, time off from work, convincing the wife and other petty details that always seem to pop up when important things as hunting trips are being planned. The way I see it, who ever coined the phrase “life is a bed of roses” must have been an unemployed, divorcee with plenty of places to hunt!
After returning from two great hunts in the States, year 2000 was clearly going to be a long one. The previous 11 months of 1999 in Bangkok were tough, so the next step was convincing the wife that a mini vacation in mid year to “break the stress” was definitely in order.
Eureka! My brilliant selling point was enough to convince her. At least that is how it seemed until the point when I was standing at the counter purchasing tickets for her to tour Australia for a “stress break.” As the saying goes, “All is fair in hunting and war!” Or is it love and war, I seem to confuse the first word at times.
In February of 2000, it was time to call Neil and plan the hunt. We looked at mid April as a great time to fly down and see what a true New Zealand adventure was about.
Finally, April 11th had arrived. This day found me stepping back into time when arriving to meet this wiry man whom I dubbed “Ridge Runner” during previous communications. As expected you can imagine he would come up with a new title for me before this week was over.
After arriving at camp, I met the two guides, Greg, Rob and another hunter Darryn, whom I would share the next week hunting with. It seemed that we had just enough time sight in the rifle, grab our gear and hit the upward winding trails to glass the area from a high point of the future lodge.
Being more than impressed with the view, I knew that the rolling hills throughout the hunting area would provide me with much needed exercise and a challenging hunt. I can only express my feelings of that first afternoon looking over the area as tranquil.
You can probably imagine, after the long flight away from Bangkok’s heat and pollution, here I was sitting on a ridge, breathing crisp air and thinking over the adventure ahead. No traffic, no smog and no worries.
With the light of the evening slowly fading, the silence was broken with the roar of a red stag challenging another stag that was violating his space. I must admit that hearing this sound, one unique to the red stag and a certain spouse previously mentioned in this story, made the anticipation of the next day increase.
Returning back to the camp, we sat for our first evenings meal and discussed the following mornings hunt. It always seems that the first night in camp is the most exciting one. Everyone usually has a great expectation of the adventure ahead and can only imagine what the first day of the hunt will bring. This is a typical starting point with most international hunts and something that I think ranks as a high point of the trip. With the last of many tales told and the new logs on the fire everyone eased into their bed for a sound rest that would be much needed for the following day.
Some people have a hard time getting out of bed for work, but I can not imagine any serious hunter who has a problem getting out of bed for the hunt. 05:00 found us finishing breakfast and getting our gear ready for the day. I would be hunting with Neil and Rob while the other hunter Darryn would be hunting a different area with Greg.
As we left the camp, it seemed that every step was uphill. Indeed it was as we were ascending upwards to a vantage point at 2400 feet. The cool morning was perfect, not a cloud in the sky and the temperature was cooler than expected. We glassed over the ridges looking for an elusive stag. After a few roar’s we finally got a glimpse at a decent stag in the valley below.
Although he would be a trophy anywhere in the world, this was not the monster in the brochure and not the one I came to New Zealand for. After all, this was the first morning of the hunt and I had decided that I was going to hold out until we found the one super stag that ruled this part of the world.
After trekking across the area, stopping on occasion to glass and call I was starting to feel the leg muscles tighten with each step. Through the day, terrain changed from thick brush on steep slopes to rolling grassy knolls. One moment we were coming down a slope that you would almost have to walk side ways to descend and the next you would find yourself grabbing branches to pull you up to the next ridge. The area was as challenging, if not more so, than I had expected from my previous evening viewing. Throughout our trekking, we spotted a large amount of sign of various game, but the monster stag seemed to be hiding far from our sights.
As mid day approached, we had made it down from the high ridges onto the rolling hills on towards the eastern side of the property. Stopping to glass, Rob caught a slight glimpse of a stag as he vanished over a ridge just under a mile away. With the wind in our favor, we decided we would make the stalk to get a better view of the stag. We eased up and down each slope to close the distance, stopping from time to time to glass and call. Stalking slowly on the ridge where Rob had spotted the stag, Neil lead the way as we eased behind the scrub trying to get a look at the gully below. With a sudden stop, and lowering his position, Neil excitedly motioned for me to come forward. As I eased by his side, I could clearly see the stag rubbing his massive horns on the scrub.
Neil told me to “take a look and see what I thought,” but from the distance of 120 yards, I could clearly see the huge rack that adorned his head. With the rack looking like a tree itself, I disregarded the binoculars and went to raise the rifle to look through the scope for a better view. Neil told me to not shoot yet, but to look at him with the binoculars. I did not see a need to evaluate any further as this was indeed a stag of a lifetime. Looking at the stag, I had definitely run across first day luck again. I confirmed with Neil that it was a great stag and I definitely would take him. He agreed that it was a true monster and the decision was final. I put the cross hairs behind the shoulder and squeezed off the round.
To be totally honest I have to tell you I was shaking so bad I was lucky to make the heart shot, but that is besides the point. I could hear the smack of the bullet and watched the stag as he jumped back down the gully out of sight. Neil told me to put another one in him, but as the words crossed his lips, the stag dropped. Later Neil would ask some other hunters “If they felt the earth quake?” (In jest of my shaking before the shot) I had to remind Neil for his sake to leave to comical remarks to me.
Now came the true test, we descended the hill and up the gully to get an up close and personal look at my fallen trophy. I think we all were surprised to see the size of this super stag’s rack with all 23 points. Neil radioed to the other group and we headed back to camp to get the quads. On returning to camp, we heard a close shot ring out over the hill. A bit later Darryn and Greg reached camp with a beautiful fallow draped across Greg’s back like a backpack. Man what a way to start the first day. With the stag gutted the five of us managed to drag him up the hill to load him into the quad drawn trailer and back to camp. Thank god for quads, as to bring this beast out we would have used up all of our energy and the rest of the day. However before the introduction of quads, this was the hunters way of doing it.
After a nice lunch, we again headed into the brush. I had my heart set on taking a Spanish goat and fallow during my hunt. We again climbed the trail to watch the area as the light of the first afternoon slowly faded. As Neil and I slowly walked along the ridge, we spotted a group of Spanish goats. One was solid black and the other two were white. Although the black and the other white goat were definitely trophies, the one that immediately caught my attention was the one super wide racked goat that unfortunately had spotted us about the same time as we did him. He continued to look at us from behind two small manuka trees prohibiting a shot. Finally, the group spooked and ran down the ridge out of our sight. I was a bit disheartened as this was indeed one of the widest horned Spanish goats I had ever saw, in the wild or in pictures.
We continued our stalk in hopes to intercept the group as they crossed the deep gully below.
As we rounded corner to the area where we had glassed the previous evening, again we were met with a surprise of two nice fallow deer grazing on the hillside below. Neil and I stopped and crouched down to get a look and decided that the leading fallow was a shooter. Although I have saw larger fallow on past hunts, the color of this super trophy was one unique to me.
Shooting free handed, the down hill shot proved to be too low. The shot clipped the deer’s lower right shoulder, across his brisket and broke the leg on the left side. The two fallow bounced down the hill and into the thickets leaving no signs of a good vital hit. Although I saw the bullet hit, I felt that the shot was low and further bothered with the fact that we could not find any sign of blood. This was disheartening, but fortunately Neil’s dog Cassy was able to pick up the trail.
After raising hounds all my life I was very impressed as the dog remained on the wounded fallow until we jumped him later and were able to make a clean shot that quickly dropped the animal. Coming back into camp later than normal, we had a quick dinner and hit the rack for the next days hunt.
Waking up the next morning, I must admit that not only were my legs sore from the previous days stalking. I could feel my knee throbbing with each step from a fall I took the previous evening while trailing the fallow, but my hopes of seeing that huge goat kept me moving.
It was great to get moving again to work out the stiffness, but the throbbing remained. Neil decided to take it easy on me and we would stalk the same ridge line where we had spotted the Spanish goat that I had nick named “ the Harley Davidson goat” As the width of his horns looked like motor cycle handle bars. Although we spotted several goats, I never saw the one I was after. We continued our stalk on the ridge and from a distance we spotted a lone goat standing in front of a kanuka thicket. Both Neil and I judged the animal several times. We first decided to pass until we got in closer and noticed the curls were at least 30 inches. After glassing him over real well, I really liked his unique gray color. I told Neil that I was going to take him and braced on a limb of a manuka to make the shot. With the thud of the bullet, the goat stumbled as he rounded the corner and dropped.
After heading back to camp with the goat, Neil and I sat down and continued another of our “never ending camp conversation” The conversation ended abruptly with the radio calling us to come help Greg and Rob with Darryn’s stag.
We attached the trailer and headed into the hills to find Darryn standing over a wonderful 16 point stag. From the grin on his face, it was clear to see that he was more than happy with his trophy. We had watched Darryn’s group from a higher point that morning as they were glassing a stag. It seemed if they were watching it forever.
They had roared in three other stags that morning and passed on all. They stalking in on a fourth stag to get a closer look when the one that Darryn had taken suddenly appeared out of a gully and walked up a ridge. It was a tough decision between the two stags, but Darren decided that he would take the one walking up the hillside. With the shot being well over 200 yards, Darryn was told to aim high. In doing so his first shot struck the hill above the stag. With the stag stopping to determine where the shot came from Darryn was able to get off a second shot that dropped the stag in his tracks.
With all of the game skinned and in the chiller, we sat down for our evening meal. I guess it is a New Zealand thing to not talk during meals, but with the excitement of the past three days, I could not sit in silence. The “camp conversation” started up again with various stories and tales of past hunts. During the conversation, Neil broke his silence with the comment “Radio Bangkok” seemed he was coming back with a new name for me. After all it is only fair as I had dubbed him Ridge Runner.
With the pressure off of the guides, it was time to have some fun. We loaded the quads, grabbed the spotlight and headed out for some opossum and hare shooting. With Darryn and I on the back of the trailer, we took turns at shooting opossums. It seemed that every tree or hillside was covered by opossums of all sizes and colors. I have never been a fan of any animal eradication program, but the New Zealand opossum is a major pest that does serious damage to natural growth that the game animals depend on. I found them to look more like a cross between a coon and small bear, as they looked nothing like the opossums in the United States. Long bushy tails and a head that resembles that of a koala bear. Since the solid blacks and reddish colored opossums are less common than the grays, I decided that I would have two mounted. This may seem odd, but it will be something unique in the trophy room and I am sure more than one person will ask me “What the hell are those?”
After a full 5 hours of night shooting, we decided to call it an evening and head back to camp. The next morning found us sleeping in a bit later than normal. The taxidermist, Wayne Mcphedren, was to arrive to cape out the heads and prep the mounts for transport to his studio.
Neil and the guides had a chore ahead of them preparing the meat for packaging so the morning was spent completing these tasks.
We had decided that we were going to head out into the range territory for some scrub bull hunting. Hunting for wild cattle may not sound interesting to many of you, but it is indeed a challenge. Neil’s guide can attest to the unpredictability of these beast from the 16 stitches and loss if two teeth on a run in with one of these truly wild beast.
They are as leery as any other wild game and have the senses to match any wild game.
We loaded up the quads and trailer and headed out to the back ranges. These ranges were steeper with limited access when compared to the stag range. We parked the quads and set out to spot the herd.
Finally after glassing for a few hour, we were able to stalk around a ridge to watch a group of 7 grazing on a steep slope across the area. We decided to get closer but remained cautious not to spook the beast. From a great vantage point, we were in a position to make a shoot that would be a bit over 200 yards. Neil, told us to get ready and select one of the smaller bulls. In response, I commented “I don’t think we will have a problem with the shot, but how the hell are we going to get them out?” His reply was “well, we will figure that out when they are down”
Alright, I confirmed with Darryn, that I would shot the one at the top facing right and he would shoot the one below it.
With out positions braced the shots rang out. Darryn’s hit the ground instantly and mine tumbled and started to trot down the hill clearly wounded. With a second shot from me, the stumbled again and stopped and started to falter. Darryn sent a final shot that upon impact dropped the bull.
Now came the fun part. As Neil, Greg and Darryn descended the slope, Rob and I went to get the quads trying to find a way to get closer to the bottom. As the slopes we too steep, we were only able to get the quads only slightly closer to the area, but no where near the bottom. It seemed that it would be a walk up the hill.
Again, with the New Zealand style of running the legs through cut leaders in the front and back legs and making a back pack, it was slow going up hill. I must admit that to see a 140 pound man carry a 200 plus pound animal on his back up a 2200 foot hill with a 45 degree angle was impressive. It was at this time when I decided that some serious hill training was due before attempting this.
Finally, after our long ride back to camp, dressing the two bulls, we sat down for a good dinner and made plans for the next day. It was our choice. Fishing, hunting the back range for stags or fowl.
Darren and I decided we would go after some more red stag on the thick and rough back ranges.
It was a different area all together. Steep valleys with thick growth making visibility very limited. Although plenty of deer sign was in the area, we also found fresh sign of other hunters.
Even though I can not say we took another stag, it was indeed a very successful day. Just being in this remote and rugged area made the days hunt a true adventure. The constant climbing, beating through thick brush and the wonderful terrain made it a great days hunt.
With the mid day starting to warm up, it was nice to lower my head into the crystal stream called “the rainbow” to take a drink of clear and clean mountain water.
After making it back to the quads we headed back to camp to hesitantly pack our gear. We said our farewell’s and headed off to different points of departure as I headed to Neil’s house for a good nights sleep to get clean and ready for the mornings flight.
I guess after hearing me talk constantly in camp for the past 4 day’s Neil must have thought I was ill or something, as I sat outside in his garden, looking at the stars in total silence. Neil’s wife must have caught onto this as well as she asked me if I wanted to come in and have a coffee. I told her that I would love a cup of coffee, but wanted to sit outside a bit and look at the stars, breath the clean air and enjoy my last night in New Zealand.
I think they understood better when I told them that it was slightly depressing to know that I would be leaving such a wonderful place and I wanted to enjoy the coolness of the night before heading back the heat and pollution of Thailand. I continued on by telling them that the last night of the hunt is always a time to reflect back on the past few days, and keep the memory fresh in my mind.
We sat outside and I enjoyed the conversation as the night grew later and it was time to rest.
I can not think of a better way to end a hunt or a visit. I would like to say thank you to Neil and his family, the guides Greg and Rob and my hunting partner Darryn, for making this a very successful and enjoyable hunt that I will never forget.
I look forward to returning soon and hope that each of you reading this will be blessed with the chance to take such a trip to New Zealand.
Click above on the Kanuka banner to visit Neil's place and learn a bit more about this fantastic hunting location in New Zealand! Tell him Thumper sent you.
Click above to return to the Thumper's Swamp!
Swap hunts! What a brilliant idea I thought as the conceptual but seemingly dim light bulb started to appear over my head. This gave me an idea to strike a deal with someone wanting to visit
Thailand and dump some frequent flyer miles before they expired.
Regardless of how silly the wife thought it was, off to the races I went with my plan as I hit every hunting bulletin board over the inter net.
My intentions were to trade a trip to Thailand for a hunt in Alaska or outside of North America. One of the many but more serious replies came from a New Zealander named Neil Mercer.
It just so happened that sometimes later we met in a hunting chat room and started talking about hunting red stags in New Zealand. Although Neil has been a guide for other outfitters all his life, he started his own game estate on the southern tip of the North Island called Kanuka Wilderness a few years back.
Over the following year, e-mails and phone calls were exchanged on a routine basis. The decision was final. I could not pass up the chance to hunt what I would later find to be super red stags. Although the swap hunt seemed to be a great idea, we decided that I would come as a client and consider the swap hunt for a later date.
Learning more about hunting red stags, I found that April was indeed the time to go, as the breeding season or roar would be at its peak.
After watching several videos from hunting outfitters in New Zealand, I was amazed at the various species on both the North and South Islands. Needless to say, it did not take much motivation to start planning my New Zealand adventure. There were just a few minor obstacles to maneuver around first. Such as, time off from work, convincing the wife and other petty details that always seem to pop up when important things as hunting trips are being planned. The way I see it, who ever coined the phrase “life is a bed of roses” must have been an unemployed, divorcee with plenty of places to hunt!
After returning from two great hunts in the States, year 2000 was clearly going to be a long one. The previous 11 months of 1999 in Bangkok were tough, so the next step was convincing the wife that a mini vacation in mid year to “break the stress” was definitely in order.
Eureka! My brilliant selling point was enough to convince her. At least that is how it seemed until the point when I was standing at the counter purchasing tickets for her to tour Australia for a “stress break.” As the saying goes, “All is fair in hunting and war!” Or is it love and war, I seem to confuse the first word at times.
In February of 2000, it was time to call Neil and plan the hunt. We looked at mid April as a great time to fly down and see what a true New Zealand adventure was about.
Finally, April 11th had arrived. This day found me stepping back into time when arriving to meet this wiry man whom I dubbed “Ridge Runner” during previous communications. As expected you can imagine he would come up with a new title for me before this week was over.
After arriving at camp, I met the two guides, Greg, Rob and another hunter Darryn, whom I would share the next week hunting with. It seemed that we had just enough time sight in the rifle, grab our gear and hit the upward winding trails to glass the area from a high point of the future lodge.
Being more than impressed with the view, I knew that the rolling hills throughout the hunting area would provide me with much needed exercise and a challenging hunt. I can only express my feelings of that first afternoon looking over the area as tranquil.
You can probably imagine, after the long flight away from Bangkok’s heat and pollution, here I was sitting on a ridge, breathing crisp air and thinking over the adventure ahead. No traffic, no smog and no worries.
With the light of the evening slowly fading, the silence was broken with the roar of a red stag challenging another stag that was violating his space. I must admit that hearing this sound, one unique to the red stag and a certain spouse previously mentioned in this story, made the anticipation of the next day increase.
Returning back to the camp, we sat for our first evenings meal and discussed the following mornings hunt. It always seems that the first night in camp is the most exciting one. Everyone usually has a great expectation of the adventure ahead and can only imagine what the first day of the hunt will bring. This is a typical starting point with most international hunts and something that I think ranks as a high point of the trip. With the last of many tales told and the new logs on the fire everyone eased into their bed for a sound rest that would be much needed for the following day.
Some people have a hard time getting out of bed for work, but I can not imagine any serious hunter who has a problem getting out of bed for the hunt. 05:00 found us finishing breakfast and getting our gear ready for the day. I would be hunting with Neil and Rob while the other hunter Darryn would be hunting a different area with Greg.
As we left the camp, it seemed that every step was uphill. Indeed it was as we were ascending upwards to a vantage point at 2400 feet. The cool morning was perfect, not a cloud in the sky and the temperature was cooler than expected. We glassed over the ridges looking for an elusive stag. After a few roar’s we finally got a glimpse at a decent stag in the valley below.
Although he would be a trophy anywhere in the world, this was not the monster in the brochure and not the one I came to New Zealand for. After all, this was the first morning of the hunt and I had decided that I was going to hold out until we found the one super stag that ruled this part of the world.
After trekking across the area, stopping on occasion to glass and call I was starting to feel the leg muscles tighten with each step. Through the day, terrain changed from thick brush on steep slopes to rolling grassy knolls. One moment we were coming down a slope that you would almost have to walk side ways to descend and the next you would find yourself grabbing branches to pull you up to the next ridge. The area was as challenging, if not more so, than I had expected from my previous evening viewing. Throughout our trekking, we spotted a large amount of sign of various game, but the monster stag seemed to be hiding far from our sights.
As mid day approached, we had made it down from the high ridges onto the rolling hills on towards the eastern side of the property. Stopping to glass, Rob caught a slight glimpse of a stag as he vanished over a ridge just under a mile away. With the wind in our favor, we decided we would make the stalk to get a better view of the stag. We eased up and down each slope to close the distance, stopping from time to time to glass and call. Stalking slowly on the ridge where Rob had spotted the stag, Neil lead the way as we eased behind the scrub trying to get a look at the gully below. With a sudden stop, and lowering his position, Neil excitedly motioned for me to come forward. As I eased by his side, I could clearly see the stag rubbing his massive horns on the scrub.
Neil told me to “take a look and see what I thought,” but from the distance of 120 yards, I could clearly see the huge rack that adorned his head. With the rack looking like a tree itself, I disregarded the binoculars and went to raise the rifle to look through the scope for a better view. Neil told me to not shoot yet, but to look at him with the binoculars. I did not see a need to evaluate any further as this was indeed a stag of a lifetime. Looking at the stag, I had definitely run across first day luck again. I confirmed with Neil that it was a great stag and I definitely would take him. He agreed that it was a true monster and the decision was final. I put the cross hairs behind the shoulder and squeezed off the round.
To be totally honest I have to tell you I was shaking so bad I was lucky to make the heart shot, but that is besides the point. I could hear the smack of the bullet and watched the stag as he jumped back down the gully out of sight. Neil told me to put another one in him, but as the words crossed his lips, the stag dropped. Later Neil would ask some other hunters “If they felt the earth quake?” (In jest of my shaking before the shot) I had to remind Neil for his sake to leave to comical remarks to me.
Now came the true test, we descended the hill and up the gully to get an up close and personal look at my fallen trophy. I think we all were surprised to see the size of this super stag’s rack with all 23 points. Neil radioed to the other group and we headed back to camp to get the quads. On returning to camp, we heard a close shot ring out over the hill. A bit later Darryn and Greg reached camp with a beautiful fallow draped across Greg’s back like a backpack. Man what a way to start the first day. With the stag gutted the five of us managed to drag him up the hill to load him into the quad drawn trailer and back to camp. Thank god for quads, as to bring this beast out we would have used up all of our energy and the rest of the day. However before the introduction of quads, this was the hunters way of doing it.
After a nice lunch, we again headed into the brush. I had my heart set on taking a Spanish goat and fallow during my hunt. We again climbed the trail to watch the area as the light of the first afternoon slowly faded. As Neil and I slowly walked along the ridge, we spotted a group of Spanish goats. One was solid black and the other two were white. Although the black and the other white goat were definitely trophies, the one that immediately caught my attention was the one super wide racked goat that unfortunately had spotted us about the same time as we did him. He continued to look at us from behind two small manuka trees prohibiting a shot. Finally, the group spooked and ran down the ridge out of our sight. I was a bit disheartened as this was indeed one of the widest horned Spanish goats I had ever saw, in the wild or in pictures.
We continued our stalk in hopes to intercept the group as they crossed the deep gully below.
As we rounded corner to the area where we had glassed the previous evening, again we were met with a surprise of two nice fallow deer grazing on the hillside below. Neil and I stopped and crouched down to get a look and decided that the leading fallow was a shooter. Although I have saw larger fallow on past hunts, the color of this super trophy was one unique to me.
Shooting free handed, the down hill shot proved to be too low. The shot clipped the deer’s lower right shoulder, across his brisket and broke the leg on the left side. The two fallow bounced down the hill and into the thickets leaving no signs of a good vital hit. Although I saw the bullet hit, I felt that the shot was low and further bothered with the fact that we could not find any sign of blood. This was disheartening, but fortunately Neil’s dog Cassy was able to pick up the trail.
After raising hounds all my life I was very impressed as the dog remained on the wounded fallow until we jumped him later and were able to make a clean shot that quickly dropped the animal. Coming back into camp later than normal, we had a quick dinner and hit the rack for the next days hunt.
Waking up the next morning, I must admit that not only were my legs sore from the previous days stalking. I could feel my knee throbbing with each step from a fall I took the previous evening while trailing the fallow, but my hopes of seeing that huge goat kept me moving.
It was great to get moving again to work out the stiffness, but the throbbing remained. Neil decided to take it easy on me and we would stalk the same ridge line where we had spotted the Spanish goat that I had nick named “ the Harley Davidson goat” As the width of his horns looked like motor cycle handle bars. Although we spotted several goats, I never saw the one I was after. We continued our stalk on the ridge and from a distance we spotted a lone goat standing in front of a kanuka thicket. Both Neil and I judged the animal several times. We first decided to pass until we got in closer and noticed the curls were at least 30 inches. After glassing him over real well, I really liked his unique gray color. I told Neil that I was going to take him and braced on a limb of a manuka to make the shot. With the thud of the bullet, the goat stumbled as he rounded the corner and dropped.
After heading back to camp with the goat, Neil and I sat down and continued another of our “never ending camp conversation” The conversation ended abruptly with the radio calling us to come help Greg and Rob with Darryn’s stag.
We attached the trailer and headed into the hills to find Darryn standing over a wonderful 16 point stag. From the grin on his face, it was clear to see that he was more than happy with his trophy. We had watched Darryn’s group from a higher point that morning as they were glassing a stag. It seemed if they were watching it forever.
They had roared in three other stags that morning and passed on all. They stalking in on a fourth stag to get a closer look when the one that Darryn had taken suddenly appeared out of a gully and walked up a ridge. It was a tough decision between the two stags, but Darren decided that he would take the one walking up the hillside. With the shot being well over 200 yards, Darryn was told to aim high. In doing so his first shot struck the hill above the stag. With the stag stopping to determine where the shot came from Darryn was able to get off a second shot that dropped the stag in his tracks.
With all of the game skinned and in the chiller, we sat down for our evening meal. I guess it is a New Zealand thing to not talk during meals, but with the excitement of the past three days, I could not sit in silence. The “camp conversation” started up again with various stories and tales of past hunts. During the conversation, Neil broke his silence with the comment “Radio Bangkok” seemed he was coming back with a new name for me. After all it is only fair as I had dubbed him Ridge Runner.
With the pressure off of the guides, it was time to have some fun. We loaded the quads, grabbed the spotlight and headed out for some opossum and hare shooting. With Darryn and I on the back of the trailer, we took turns at shooting opossums. It seemed that every tree or hillside was covered by opossums of all sizes and colors. I have never been a fan of any animal eradication program, but the New Zealand opossum is a major pest that does serious damage to natural growth that the game animals depend on. I found them to look more like a cross between a coon and small bear, as they looked nothing like the opossums in the United States. Long bushy tails and a head that resembles that of a koala bear. Since the solid blacks and reddish colored opossums are less common than the grays, I decided that I would have two mounted. This may seem odd, but it will be something unique in the trophy room and I am sure more than one person will ask me “What the hell are those?”
After a full 5 hours of night shooting, we decided to call it an evening and head back to camp. The next morning found us sleeping in a bit later than normal. The taxidermist, Wayne Mcphedren, was to arrive to cape out the heads and prep the mounts for transport to his studio.
Neil and the guides had a chore ahead of them preparing the meat for packaging so the morning was spent completing these tasks.
We had decided that we were going to head out into the range territory for some scrub bull hunting. Hunting for wild cattle may not sound interesting to many of you, but it is indeed a challenge. Neil’s guide can attest to the unpredictability of these beast from the 16 stitches and loss if two teeth on a run in with one of these truly wild beast.
They are as leery as any other wild game and have the senses to match any wild game.
We loaded up the quads and trailer and headed out to the back ranges. These ranges were steeper with limited access when compared to the stag range. We parked the quads and set out to spot the herd.
Finally after glassing for a few hour, we were able to stalk around a ridge to watch a group of 7 grazing on a steep slope across the area. We decided to get closer but remained cautious not to spook the beast. From a great vantage point, we were in a position to make a shoot that would be a bit over 200 yards. Neil, told us to get ready and select one of the smaller bulls. In response, I commented “I don’t think we will have a problem with the shot, but how the hell are we going to get them out?” His reply was “well, we will figure that out when they are down”
Alright, I confirmed with Darryn, that I would shot the one at the top facing right and he would shoot the one below it.
With out positions braced the shots rang out. Darryn’s hit the ground instantly and mine tumbled and started to trot down the hill clearly wounded. With a second shot from me, the stumbled again and stopped and started to falter. Darryn sent a final shot that upon impact dropped the bull.
Now came the fun part. As Neil, Greg and Darryn descended the slope, Rob and I went to get the quads trying to find a way to get closer to the bottom. As the slopes we too steep, we were only able to get the quads only slightly closer to the area, but no where near the bottom. It seemed that it would be a walk up the hill.
Again, with the New Zealand style of running the legs through cut leaders in the front and back legs and making a back pack, it was slow going up hill. I must admit that to see a 140 pound man carry a 200 plus pound animal on his back up a 2200 foot hill with a 45 degree angle was impressive. It was at this time when I decided that some serious hill training was due before attempting this.
Finally, after our long ride back to camp, dressing the two bulls, we sat down for a good dinner and made plans for the next day. It was our choice. Fishing, hunting the back range for stags or fowl.
Darren and I decided we would go after some more red stag on the thick and rough back ranges.
It was a different area all together. Steep valleys with thick growth making visibility very limited. Although plenty of deer sign was in the area, we also found fresh sign of other hunters.
Even though I can not say we took another stag, it was indeed a very successful day. Just being in this remote and rugged area made the days hunt a true adventure. The constant climbing, beating through thick brush and the wonderful terrain made it a great days hunt.
With the mid day starting to warm up, it was nice to lower my head into the crystal stream called “the rainbow” to take a drink of clear and clean mountain water.
After making it back to the quads we headed back to camp to hesitantly pack our gear. We said our farewell’s and headed off to different points of departure as I headed to Neil’s house for a good nights sleep to get clean and ready for the mornings flight.
I guess after hearing me talk constantly in camp for the past 4 day’s Neil must have thought I was ill or something, as I sat outside in his garden, looking at the stars in total silence. Neil’s wife must have caught onto this as well as she asked me if I wanted to come in and have a coffee. I told her that I would love a cup of coffee, but wanted to sit outside a bit and look at the stars, breath the clean air and enjoy my last night in New Zealand.
I think they understood better when I told them that it was slightly depressing to know that I would be leaving such a wonderful place and I wanted to enjoy the coolness of the night before heading back the heat and pollution of Thailand. I continued on by telling them that the last night of the hunt is always a time to reflect back on the past few days, and keep the memory fresh in my mind.
We sat outside and I enjoyed the conversation as the night grew later and it was time to rest.
I can not think of a better way to end a hunt or a visit. I would like to say thank you to Neil and his family, the guides Greg and Rob and my hunting partner Darryn, for making this a very successful and enjoyable hunt that I will never forget.
I look forward to returning soon and hope that each of you reading this will be blessed with the chance to take such a trip to New Zealand.
Click above on the Kanuka banner to visit Neil's place and learn a bit more about this fantastic hunting location in New Zealand! Tell him Thumper sent you.
Click above to return to the Thumper's Swamp!
Regardless of how silly the wife thought it was, off to the races I went with my plan as I hit every hunting bulletin board over the inter net.
My intentions were to trade a trip to Thailand for a hunt in Alaska or outside of North America. One of the many but more serious replies came from a New Zealander named Neil Mercer. It just so happened that sometimes later we met in a hunting chat room and started talking about hunting red stags in New Zealand. Although Neil has been a guide for other outfitters all his life, he started his own game estate on the southern tip of the North Island called Kanuka Wilderness a few years back.
Over the following year, e-mails and phone calls were exchanged on a routine basis. The decision was final. I could not pass up the chance to hunt what I would later find to be super red stags. Although the swap hunt seemed to be a great idea, we decided that I would come as a client and consider the swap hunt for a later date.
Learning more about hunting red stags, I found that April was indeed the time to go, as the breeding season or roar would be at its peak. After watching several videos from hunting outfitters in New Zealand, I was amazed at the various species on both the North and South Islands. Needless to say, it did not take much motivation to start planning my New Zealand adventure. There were just a few minor obstacles to maneuver around first. Such as, time off from work, convincing the wife and other petty details that always seem to pop up when important things as hunting trips are being planned. The way I see it, who ever coined the phrase “life is a bed of roses” must have been an unemployed, divorcee with plenty of places to hunt!
After returning from two great hunts in the States, year 2000 was clearly going to be a long one. The previous 11 months of 1999 in Bangkok were tough, so the next step was convincing the wife that a mini vacation in mid year to “break the stress” was definitely in order.
Eureka! My brilliant selling point was enough to convince her. At least that is how it seemed until the point when I was standing at the counter purchasing tickets for her to tour Australia for a “stress break.” As the saying goes, “All is fair in hunting and war!” Or is it love and war, I seem to confuse the first word at times.
In February of 2000, it was time to call Neil and plan the hunt. We looked at mid April as a great time to fly down and see what a true New Zealand adventure was about.
Finally, April 11th had arrived. This day found me stepping back into time when arriving to meet this wiry man whom I dubbed “Ridge Runner” during previous communications. As expected you can imagine he would come up with a new title for me before this week was over.
After arriving at camp, I met the two guides, Greg, Rob and another hunter Darryn, whom I would share the next week hunting with. It seemed that we had just enough time sight in the rifle, grab our gear and hit the upward winding trails to glass the area from a high point of the future lodge.
Being more than impressed with the view, I knew that the rolling hills throughout the hunting area would provide me with much needed exercise and a challenging hunt. I can only express my feelings of that first afternoon looking over the area as tranquil.
You can probably imagine, after the long flight away from Bangkok’s heat and pollution, here I was sitting on a ridge, breathing crisp air and thinking over the adventure ahead. No traffic, no smog and no worries.
With the light of the evening slowly fading, the silence was broken with the roar of a red stag challenging another stag that was violating his space. I must admit that hearing this sound, one unique to the red stag and a certain spouse previously mentioned in this story, made the anticipation of the next day increase.
Some people have a hard time getting out of bed for work, but I can not imagine any serious hunter who has a problem getting out of bed for the hunt. 05:00 found us finishing breakfast and getting our gear ready for the day. I would be hunting with Neil and Rob while the other hunter Darryn would be hunting a different area with Greg.
As we left the camp, it seemed that every step was uphill. Indeed it was as we were ascending upwards to a vantage point at 2400 feet. The cool morning was perfect, not a cloud in the sky and the temperature was cooler than expected. We glassed over the ridges looking for an elusive stag. After a few roar’s we finally got a glimpse at a decent stag in the valley below. Although he would be a trophy anywhere in the world, this was not the monster in the brochure and not the one I came to New Zealand for. After all, this was the first morning of the hunt and I had decided that I was going to hold out until we found the one super stag that ruled this part of the world.
After trekking across the area, stopping on occasion to glass and call I was starting to feel the leg muscles tighten with each step. Through the day, terrain changed from thick brush on steep slopes to rolling grassy knolls. One moment we were coming down a slope that you would almost have to walk side ways to descend and the next you would find yourself grabbing branches to pull you up to the next ridge. The area was as challenging, if not more so, than I had expected from my previous evening viewing. Throughout our trekking, we spotted a large amount of sign of various game, but the monster stag seemed to be hiding far from our sights.
As mid day approached, we had made it down from the high ridges onto the rolling hills on towards the eastern side of the property. Stopping to glass, Rob caught a slight glimpse of a stag as he vanished over a ridge just under a mile away. With the wind in our favor, we decided we would make the stalk to get a better view of the stag. We eased up and down each slope to close the distance, stopping from time to time to glass and call. Stalking slowly on the ridge where Rob had spotted the stag, Neil lead the way as we eased behind the scrub trying to get a look at the gully below. With a sudden stop, and lowering his position, Neil excitedly motioned for me to come forward. As I eased by his side, I could clearly see the stag rubbing his massive horns on the scrub.
To be totally honest I have to tell you I was shaking so bad I was lucky to make the heart shot, but that is besides the point. I could hear the smack of the bullet and watched the stag as he jumped back down the gully out of sight. Neil told me to put another one in him, but as the words crossed his lips, the stag dropped. Later Neil would ask some other hunters “If they felt the earth quake?” (In jest of my shaking before the shot) I had to remind Neil for his sake to leave to comical remarks to me.
Now came the true test, we descended the hill and up the gully to get an up close and personal look at my fallen trophy. I think we all were surprised to see the size of this super stag’s rack with all 23 points. Neil radioed to the other group and we headed back to camp to get the quads. On returning to camp, we heard a close shot ring out over the hill. A bit later Darryn and Greg reached camp with a beautiful fallow draped across Greg’s back like a backpack. Man what a way to start the first day. With the stag gutted the five of us managed to drag him up the hill to load him into the quad drawn trailer and back to camp. Thank god for quads, as to bring this beast out we would have used up all of our energy and the rest of the day. However before the introduction of quads, this was the hunters way of doing it.
After a nice lunch, we again headed into the brush. I had my heart set on taking a Spanish goat and fallow during my hunt. We again climbed the trail to watch the area as the light of the first afternoon slowly faded. As Neil and I slowly walked along the ridge, we spotted a group of Spanish goats. One was solid black and the other two were white. Although the black and the other white goat were definitely trophies, the one that immediately caught my attention was the one super wide racked goat that unfortunately had spotted us about the same time as we did him. He continued to look at us from behind two small manuka trees prohibiting a shot. Finally, the group spooked and ran down the ridge out of our sight. I was a bit disheartened as this was indeed one of the widest horned Spanish goats I had ever saw, in the wild or in pictures.
We continued our stalk in hopes to intercept the group as they crossed the deep gully below. As we rounded corner to the area where we had glassed the previous evening, again we were met with a surprise of two nice fallow deer grazing on the hillside below. Neil and I stopped and crouched down to get a look and decided that the leading fallow was a shooter. Although I have saw larger fallow on past hunts, the color of this super trophy was one unique to me. Shooting free handed, the down hill shot proved to be too low. The shot clipped the deer’s lower right shoulder, across his brisket and broke the leg on the left side. The two fallow bounced down the hill and into the thickets leaving no signs of a good vital hit. Although I saw the bullet hit, I felt that the shot was low and further bothered with the fact that we could not find any sign of blood. This was disheartening, but fortunately Neil’s dog Cassy was able to pick up the trail.
After raising hounds all my life I was very impressed as the dog remained on the wounded fallow until we jumped him later and were able to make a clean shot that quickly dropped the animal. Coming back into camp later than normal, we had a quick dinner and hit the rack for the next days hunt.
It was great to get moving again to work out the stiffness, but the throbbing remained. Neil decided to take it easy on me and we would stalk the same ridge line where we had spotted the Spanish goat that I had nick named “ the Harley Davidson goat” As the width of his horns looked like motor cycle handle bars. Although we spotted several goats, I never saw the one I was after. We continued our stalk on the ridge and from a distance we spotted a lone goat standing in front of a kanuka thicket. Both Neil and I judged the animal several times. We first decided to pass until we got in closer and noticed the curls were at least 30 inches. After glassing him over real well, I really liked his unique gray color. I told Neil that I was going to take him and braced on a limb of a manuka to make the shot. With the thud of the bullet, the goat stumbled as he rounded the corner and dropped.
They had roared in three other stags that morning and passed on all. They stalking in on a fourth stag to get a closer look when the one that Darryn had taken suddenly appeared out of a gully and walked up a ridge. It was a tough decision between the two stags, but Darren decided that he would take the one walking up the hillside. With the shot being well over 200 yards, Darryn was told to aim high. In doing so his first shot struck the hill above the stag. With the stag stopping to determine where the shot came from Darryn was able to get off a second shot that dropped the stag in his tracks.
With the pressure off of the guides, it was time to have some fun. We loaded the quads, grabbed the spotlight and headed out for some opossum and hare shooting. With Darryn and I on the back of the trailer, we took turns at shooting opossums. It seemed that every tree or hillside was covered by opossums of all sizes and colors. I have never been a fan of any animal eradication program, but the New Zealand opossum is a major pest that does serious damage to natural growth that the game animals depend on. I found them to look more like a cross between a coon and small bear, as they looked nothing like the opossums in the United States. Long bushy tails and a head that resembles that of a koala bear. Since the solid blacks and reddish colored opossums are less common than the grays, I decided that I would have two mounted. This may seem odd, but it will be something unique in the trophy room and I am sure more than one person will ask me “What the hell are those?”
After a full 5 hours of night shooting, we decided to call it an evening and head back to camp. The next morning found us sleeping in a bit later than normal. The taxidermist, Wayne Mcphedren, was to arrive to cape out the heads and prep the mounts for transport to his studio.
Neil and the guides had a chore ahead of them preparing the meat for packaging so the morning was spent completing these tasks. We had decided that we were going to head out into the range territory for some scrub bull hunting. Hunting for wild cattle may not sound interesting to many of you, but it is indeed a challenge. Neil’s guide can attest to the unpredictability of these beast from the 16 stitches and loss if two teeth on a run in with one of these truly wild beast. They are as leery as any other wild game and have the senses to match any wild game.
We loaded up the quads and trailer and headed out to the back ranges. These ranges were steeper with limited access when compared to the stag range. We parked the quads and set out to spot the herd.
Finally after glassing for a few hour, we were able to stalk around a ridge to watch a group of 7 grazing on a steep slope across the area. We decided to get closer but remained cautious not to spook the beast. From a great vantage point, we were in a position to make a shoot that would be a bit over 200 yards. Neil, told us to get ready and select one of the smaller bulls. In response, I commented “I don’t think we will have a problem with the shot, but how the hell are we going to get them out?” His reply was “well, we will figure that out when they are down” Alright, I confirmed with Darryn, that I would shot the one at the top facing right and he would shoot the one below it. With out positions braced the shots rang out. Darryn’s hit the ground instantly and mine tumbled and started to trot down the hill clearly wounded. With a second shot from me, the stumbled again and stopped and started to falter. Darryn sent a final shot that upon impact dropped the bull.
Now came the fun part. As Neil, Greg and Darryn descended the slope, Rob and I went to get the quads trying to find a way to get closer to the bottom. As the slopes we too steep, we were only able to get the quads only slightly closer to the area, but no where near the bottom. It seemed that it would be a walk up the hill.
Finally, after our long ride back to camp, dressing the two bulls, we sat down for a good dinner and made plans for the next day. It was our choice. Fishing, hunting the back range for stags or fowl.
Darren and I decided we would go after some more red stag on the thick and rough back ranges. It was a different area all together. Steep valleys with thick growth making visibility very limited. Although plenty of deer sign was in the area, we also found fresh sign of other hunters.
With the mid day starting to warm up, it was nice to lower my head into the crystal stream called “the rainbow” to take a drink of clear and clean mountain water.
I guess after hearing me talk constantly in camp for the past 4 day’s Neil must have thought I was ill or something, as I sat outside in his garden, looking at the stars in total silence. Neil’s wife must have caught onto this as well as she asked me if I wanted to come in and have a coffee. I told her that I would love a cup of coffee, but wanted to sit outside a bit and look at the stars, breath the clean air and enjoy my last night in New Zealand.
I think they understood better when I told them that it was slightly depressing to know that I would be leaving such a wonderful place and I wanted to enjoy the coolness of the night before heading back the heat and pollution of Thailand. I continued on by telling them that the last night of the hunt is always a time to reflect back on the past few days, and keep the memory fresh in my mind.
We sat outside and I enjoyed the conversation as the night grew later and it was time to rest.
I can not think of a better way to end a hunt or a visit. I would like to say thank you to Neil and his family, the guides Greg and Rob and my hunting partner Darryn, for making this a very successful and enjoyable hunt that I will never forget.
I look forward to returning soon and hope that each of you reading this will be blessed with the chance to take such a trip to New Zealand.
Click above on the Kanuka banner to visit Neil's place and learn a bit more about this fantastic hunting location in New Zealand! Tell him Thumper sent you.