It's 5:30am, off goes the alarm, and there goes my sleep-in. Never mind that though, as I was going hunting. After a quick coffee and a bowl of Weet-Bix, I put on my boots and was out the door with my wife, Rach, following behind.
It’s one week since I emerged from the rugged West Coast hills from my second-ever tahr hunt, and I’m extremely battered and bruised after seven days camping and hunting the incredible Himalayan tahr.
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