Ripper Roar 2024 Part 2

As Featured in NZ Hunter Magazine

After a solid stint in the bush for the first week of the roar, arriving home was bloody good. A much needed shower was on the cards and a catch up with the family before we took off back down to the central North Island for round two. 

The next trip was a week with my wife, Amie. She has been on lots of hunting trips with me, but this was to be her first actual roar trip, and she was very excited and keen to see us roar a Sika stag in, no pressure!

The next morning, we loaded the truck up and headed off toward Taupo. We had a 12 pm fly time with the helicopter, and before we knew it, we were loading up the H500 and setting sail for a helipad that has become a favorite of mine. We came in to land about 700m above sea level, and with a quick unload of the helicopter and a handshake with the pilot, he took off into the distance. We stood on the helipad looking at the wicked country—miles of big native bush to hunt for the next seven days.

(Above: Miro Miro - Tomtit)

We set up camp, making sure we were ready for any weather. Around 3pm, we decided to head off for a look and stretch the legs. Climbing a very steep spur, I heard the first territorial call of the trip, and by the look on Amie’s face, she was very happy to hear her first stag of the year. He was up in front of us about 400–500m away at a guess and in the direction we were heading. We slowed it down a bit after we heard the call, as there was some nice country not far ahead, and we did not want to disturb anything.

We stalked up the spur, carefully considering our every step to keep our noise down. There was not much to see until it flattened out a bit at the top, but once we levelled out, we could see into a gully head on the right full of pepperwood and a big beech face beyond that. I had walked up here many times over the years, and it is kind of a never-fail meat safe in the evenings. As the spur opened out into the big native and we could see better, I soon spotted a hind in the gully feeding away. She was unaware of our presence as we watched her for a bit while she fed.

Soon after, I caught a glimpse of a darker animal on the opposite face down low. After closer inspection with the binos, it was a Sika stag! I got Amie to come a bit closer so she could see him in case he was a mature stag with antler length, but on closer inspection, he was not a shooter. Still, a very cool encounter on day one. He eventually saw us and stood at alert, staring our way motionless for what seemed like 10 minutes. I took photos of him, and during my maneuvering around, the hind saw us too and let everyone know by making a few alarm calls. I snapped off a few shots with my big camera and managed to secure a couple of good pics that made our evening. What a cool start to the trip! We descended back down the spur and returned to camp. The evening was very still, and soon after arriving back, we had dinner underway and organized our sleeping arrangements.

The next morning was a cracker, clear, cool April frost on the cards, and the blue skies were a welcome sight. There must have been a bit of rain before we flew in, as the ground was very quiet and almost a bit slippery, but I’d rather that than dry bush stalking conditions, which can be painful! After a good breakfast, we went over our day bags, making sure all the right gear was set up for the rest of the week, with only food and water needing replenishing each morning. We set off for a ridgeline out the back where I had two game cameras set up at crossing points in the big bush since January. I was trying to track the Sika’s movements and see what stags were lurking around.

We climbed around a waterfall and up a manuka edge, listening for distant Sika single calls as we went. But the morning was fairly quiet as we crested the ridge and into a saddle. There were numerous rubs on the trees as we went, so there were obviously stags around here somewhere. We overlooked a big crown fern gully and decided to let out a few single calls, waiting to see if anything would come in. But after an hour of calling every 5 minutes, it proved fruitless, so we carried on to the next game camera. Although there were numerous deer on the cameras, we didn’t see any good stags, just lots of small ones. We stalked quietly between open areas, giving the odd single call to try and drum up some action, but it was all very quiet with only the occasional distant territorial call. So, we headed back to camp to plan our next few days.

We decided to load up our packs with enough gear and food for two nights and head east via the spur we had gone up the first evening, the following morning. There seemed to be a few animals up that way, so we’d try our luck and hopefully find a single-calling Sika stag for Amie to get in close to for a possible shot. Along the way down into number one creek we noticed quite a few rubbings and the odd scrape so we let out a few single calls just in case a stag was close by but to no avail. We did manage to see a native falcon just above us making a fair bit of noise, very cool to see.

The following morning, we headed up the steep spur, well-prepared for the next two nights in search of stags. We stopped at the top of the big spur, scanning the opposite face for any early morning animals. But after a while with nothing seen, we continued slowly dropping towards the next creek.

We filled our water bottles in the creek and followed the game trail, ridden with signs, across the creek and up onto a leading spur that would take us to the next ridge. We managed to spook a hind on the way up, catching a glimpse of her rear end as she departed. Cresting the ridge, we moved along very quietly, noting a few fresh scratch pads on the ridgeline. There had always been a single calling stag around here in years gone by, so we took our time scanning the area around us. We snuck down to a game camera I had set up and checked it out, but like the others we’d checked the day before, it had nothing of significance on it.

By now, it was around midday, so we decided to sit for the next hour and listen while we had some lunch. We were on a good high point and could hear into the creeks to the left and right if a stag decided to let us know he was there! The country we were in was an awesome mixture of big ridges with crown fern at the tops and open gullies with pepperwood scattered all over them, with manuka edges at the bottom of the ridges. This made for very good stalking and prime Sika habitat. While I was mid-bite into a muesli bar, I thought I heard a single call. I looked at Amie, but she hadn’t heard it. I sat quietly, and five minutes later, I heard it again. He was way down below us, into the next creek, and some distance off. We quickly set off again, dropping down the small gut and into the pepperwood gullies where I’ve shot plenty of deer over the years. They’re full of good feed and cover and hold deer all year round.

We stopped and sat down to listen again once we were a bit closer. After a while, a single call was heard again down to our right, making both of us smile. This was what we were here for, right? The breeze was in our face, coming up from the creek below us. The bush was damp, so we had perfect conditions for a quiet stalk in. The next thing we heard was a stag squealing right below us. He must have been close by and heard our approach. Surely he was too close to be the single caller?

I snuck forward with the rifle, but he was gone. After giving a few mews and waiting for any noise coming our way, we continued slowly down until we could see an open spot across the small gully. The fog was lifting, and the sun was starting to stream into the gully as I caught a whiff of stag from below us. I turned to Amie and said I could smell a stag in the pepperwood-covered gully below. I started searching the face below where the wind was coming from.

Next thing, Amie said, “I can see a stag!” I looked ahead quickly. How did Amie see it before me!? I asked her where, and as I looked back at her, she pointed across from us into the sun. Sure enough, I saw a stag walking along at the same level as us, right in full view. Well done, Amie. I crouched down, as did Amie, and he came straight towards us on a mission. I passed Amie the Tikka .308 and asked, “Can you see him?” I tried to snap off a few photos with the camera as Amie got ready. She looked hard but couldn’t see his body. He was right behind a tree, looking at us with one antler of four points visible, but Amie couldn’t get a clear view of his shoulder. The next thing, he started squealing at us. Amie said, “I can’t see him,” so she passed me the rifle back. I leaned over to my left to get a clear shot around the tree and fired a 150g Core-Lokt into his chest as he turned and disappeared. I looked back at Amie, and we were both surprised at how quickly things can change in the bush. We now had a stag to find, was he an 8-pointer?

We snuck over and tiptoed around the tree he was behind. I could see some blood, and looking up, I saw the back end of a stag lying on the ground. I pointed him out to Amie. We went over and rolled him over. It was our first stag we had shot together, and he had 8 points! The stag was very old and one of the narrowest sika stags I have shot, a very unique head and one to remember for sure. We took a moment to reflect on the last ten minutes, letting Amie take it all in. She felt quite emotional as he had looked majestic as he walked across the face opposite us. We took our time to appreciate him before taking a heap of photos for our memories down the track. I was a bit gutted for Amie that she was not in a position to shoot him, but she spotted him first, so it was definitely a team effort. We now had a set of antlers to remember him by and a fair few kilos of venison to pack out and make into sausages when we got home. Judging by his ears and teeth, he was quite old and the perfect stag to be taking.

After a photo session followed by a butchery session, we loaded the meat and antlers into our now-heavy packs and dropped into the creek below for a bloody good drink. The creek was now very wide since Cyclone Gabrielle had washed it out, and it was quite easy to walk down under the cover of the big native beech. Zigzagging our way out of the creek, we pushed into the manuka and out into some fringe country to look for a spot to camp. We planned to hunt this area for the next day or so to see what we could find. After a fairly big day and a stag on the deck, we took it easy in the evening and sat on a lookout behind the binos. We picked up a few animals, but none with big racks of antlers, so we turned in early for some much-needed hot food and rest.

 

The next day dawned another cracker as we made our way to a spot where we could see a big open area with manuka edges all around. We settled in behind the binos once again, waiting for Mr. Big. But all we saw were hinds and small stags. Where were the big boys this trip? We finished the day with a big bush stalk up the same creek we had shot the stag in. It was a nice open area on the left of the creek with plenty of sign, but we didn’t even spook a deer. Maybe all the action had been the week before, and we had missed it? I guess that’s hunting, right?

After a long day, we made the most of the nice evening before packing up what we could of our camp, ready for an early morning walk back to our base. On the way back, we saw some of the same smaller stags and heard a few territorial calls. Back at base camp, I head-skinned the stag and boiled him out. We had a chopper ride home in the morning, so we just chilled, had a few drinks, and reflected on the events of the week. We were very happy to have taken an old, mature 8-point sika. Along with the multiple deer and wildlife encounters, we had a bloody good trip for sure. Maybe the big boys will be around next roar?