As a NZRod&Rifle reader, you’re likely someone who froths over hunting. The time in the wild, the stalks, overcoming challenges imposed by both the terrain and the game, the right shot at the right time and, of course, the successes when it all comes together combine to make the sport exciting and fulfilling.
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Research into lead fragments from bullets in game meat has encouraged us to explore using copper bullets for meat hunting.
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Spending my first day in Africa touring the Arusha pub scene wasn’t how I envisioned my much-anticipated introduction to this animal-rich continent.
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With greater knowledge as hunters, and with a growing conservation mindset, we’re now putting more trophy value on the age of the animal in addition to the physical traits determined largely by genetics and nutrition.
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Alpine animals have a certain beauty and grace at all times, but the extreme conditions of wintry weather in combination with the heights and sheerness of the terrain they inhabit underscore this magnificence and emphasise how perfectly they’ve evolved to fill a very difficult and specialised niche.
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The light patter on the tent as the drizzling rain continued lulled me to sleep. I awoke to silence and stillness, hopeful of a day offering clear glassing.
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Carrying out whole animals is beneficial because not only does it bring the most meat out but also, keeping the skin on and bones in protects the meat on the tote and during the aging process.
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Appearing like a ghost, a curious chamois buck peers over a steep ridge. Captivated in inspection of the intruding hunter, the chamois’ inquisitive nature overrides his otherwise wary instincts.
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Twinkling stars in the black of the early morning sky met my eyes when my alarm woke me for our third day of the hunt. The large window above my mattress in the loft offered an amazing view of the sky from my pillow.
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The magnificence imparted by his leonine mane and grizzly-like bulkiness was accentuated by the plainness of the surrounding nannies, truly marking him the king of the mountain.
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With synchronised steps, two fallow bucks strut straight towards the small cabbage-tree clump sheltering me, blinded to my nearness by their unwavering focus on each other.
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As if peppered by a shaker, the snow tussock halfway up the mountain face was speckled with bull tahr.
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