Ripper Roar 2024 Part 1

As Featured in NZ Hunter February /March 2025 Edition

Towards the end of March, as the evenings started to become cooler, I was struggling to think about much besides the looming Sika Roar. It was only weeks away and man, was I looking forward to April. I had put more preparation into this Roar than any other.

I knew there were a few good stags in my areas from the regular checks on my trail cameras. Looking over the SD cards and seeing some quality stags had given me all the information I needed to be confident that I had a good chance of running into one in April, or was I being overconfident?

(Above: A Big old Sika stag showing his age via his high trez tines).

My April was mapped out with a good number of hunts on public land for the first half of the month, then in mid-April, I was taking my wife on her first roar trip. One thing I have been doing over the last 12 years is actively using trail cameras in the bush where I like to hunt. I have the choice of hunting open country or farm edges, but I prefer to hunt the bush, as it is a place I really enjoy and where I feel at home.

Don’t get me wrong, I still hunt open country at times, but you will find me stalking the native and manuka edges in my socks for most of the hard antler season. Most times I’m solo, trying to run into that big Sika stag. I find that the information I gather on the trail cameras over a 12-month cycle is invaluable to knowledge of the condition of the deer, where they are around, and the quality of the stags. I feel my understanding of movements has been refined, and I know, for a fact, that I know what they are doing at certain times of the year in the bush.

Over February and March, I had been on big missions in the areas where my cameras are set, checking what is residing, looking for good sign, and what has started to rub trees. Very early in March I’m looking for what has moved into the areas I hunt in, and it is at this stage my rifle takes priority over my big camera.

(Above: A very well-conditioned mature hind, she had a yearling with her too)

During this time, I become more aware of my surroundings due to time in the bush and pick up on little details that will help me on my roar trips and into winter. The more miles under the belt pre-roar the better, and I sure felt sharp heading into the roar 2024.

I landed in camp with a very heavy pack and went about setting up what I could, ready for the series of days ahead. A few of the others were coming in at times over the weekend. First up, my mate Dallas was due in mid-May. I had camp set up in an hour or so and took off to gather as much water as I could. The recent weather had been patchy with a bit of rain and the bush was quite fresh. There were obvious crossings from numerous prints around the creek that deer had been smashing through here recently.

On returning to camp, I packed my day bag and not long after that, Dallas turned up earlier than expected. We had a coffee, talked about that afternoon’s options, and decided we would head out for a short hunt so we didn’t venture too far so we didn’t use up an option in the main hunt. Little did we know that our plan was going to be dictated by a big old Sika stag! Sitting down and leaning against a tree, we whispered at each other about how hot the afternoon was. Although we were in the shade, behind some growth the heat was still streaming through like it was a summer afternoon. Half an hour later the silence was broken with a territory call, and another stag also let rip in the same area 30 seconds later.

(Above: Dallas taking a moment to check out a fresh wallow)

I said to Dallas that we should head that way and get in closer for a listen; this is what we were here for, right? He was keen, so we slowly moved about 200 metres closer. By that time he had let out another territory call, followed by more from another stag not far from him. We worked out he was in a thick area of scrub either on the bench above or in the real thick stuff below. Dallas was bang on with his prediction and the stag was right in the middle of the thick stuff.

Once we were about 100 metres away, and slightly above him, I let out a healthy single call, but to be really didn’t expect an answer, as I felt it was a bit early in April. Instantly, the silence was broken with a very strong single call from the stag, and we looked at each other with a smile. How cool was it that we had a Sika stag calling on the first evening of our roar trip and sounding like a mature animal at that? Dallas kindly offered to stay back and roar while I went in on him, and as we only had an hour of daylight left, I wasted no time going in with just my headlamp, GPS and trusty Tikka .308.

I manoeuvred toward the stag very slowly, pushing through thick mānuka and scrub while Dallas called at the stag every two minutes, and by the sound of it, the stag was getting very ticked off. I was probably only 30 metres from the stag when I stopped, because there was the most open part of scrub I had come across in front of me about 10 metres away. When I say open, it was much better than the stuff I had just pushed through, but it sure was not ideal. 

As I stood listening, I could hear the stag going ballistic at Dallas’s single calls. He had him well fired up, and it was not long before I heard him moving. He was coming towards me and with the rifle at my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of him. He stopped fourteen metres away and started to beat a tree while roaring back at Dallas. I have roared in a heap of Sika, and this stag sure put on a show to get the red mist pumping. He gave the small tree all his energy, and I could see the white tips of the antlers moving as he beat it to bits. I could hear all his little squeaks and grunts but had no chance of a shot. I could tell he was super long in the antlers and I knew he was mature. This was a time I wished I had a GoPro on my head!

(Above: Large fungi found in March while doing reconnaissance trips)

The beams of light coming through the canopy were starting to dim, and it was getting towards last light. I was trying to stay as still as I could because the stag was looking around quite often. I figured if I didn’t do something in the next few minutes, the light would fade, and the last hope of the shot would be gone, so I had to move in a small while cupping my boots to try and throw the new behind me. He turned his head instantly and looked my way, standing like a statue. He would have been trying to work out how this huge making the new had got so close without him hearing.

Suddenly there was noise and the stag was moving. He came to the left and I moved to stop him as I lifted the rifle. He was that close to the scope that it was blurry, so I looked down the side of the scope and aimed at his chest, then let one rip! He took off and all was silence…

I chambered another round, placing the safety on, and moved forward. It was near dark, and I wanted to see if he was close by before I had to get the headlamp out. As I rounded a thick patch of fern, just beyond the mānuka, stone-cold dead, he had only gone 10 metres, his antlers were lying in the moss.

I stood looking at him and his huge body size. He was missing a tine but who cares? I had just had an epic encounter with a big mature Sika stag I will never forget. I snapped off a couple of photos with my phone before I put the headlamp on and moved back to help Dallas navigate to the stag. We were in a very thick spot, and in the dark, it was hard to get around. But we knew where we were of the body size, and it was really cool to have a big mature stag on the deck on the first evening with such an exciting roar battle.

Certainly, it was one to remember!

We stumbled back into camp with a heavy load somewhere before midnight. Taking off as much meat as we could we hung it up in the Stoney Creek meat safe before we had dinner and hit the sack, feeling pretty broken.

The next morning Dallas went his own way, and I head-skinned the stag and took my clothes to the creek to wash them, as I managed to cover most of them in blood the night before. Dallas was to leave camp later that day to head back to work, and he managed to secure two fine Sika stags over the month, one of them being a true wall-hanger.

The next four days were good with some single calling heard and a few small stags encountered. I hunted solo most of the time trying to get photos of deer as I ran into them with my new camera. It was nice to have a quality camera again and I enjoyed gathering some good photos of hinds and spikers as I saw them on my travels.

(Above: Another spiker, found near a large wallow)

With a mature, long-antlered stag on the deck and hanging up at camp, I was not going to shoot anything else unless it had eight points or more, and with my camera ready and rifle on my shoulder, I headed off on the last morning.

It was quiet for the first hour, with nothing to be heard until around 8am, I managed to catch the tail end of a single call in the distance, and when I was within 50 metres, I could hear him get up going well and figured he must be with a few. I started searching the opposite face for other animals that might be with the mob. The hind showed herself, and not long after I could see the stag walking around beside her, not letting her get more than 20 metres away. I found a good tree against a tree and waited until I could see his antlers to judge the quality, as I was not sure if he was a shooter. They came across the face in front of me, and I caught glimpse; a middle-aged stag with a small eight point head, so I left them alone. I tried to get a photo but sadly I didn’t have a clear view for the camera, then he followed her over the ridge and out of sight.

I arrived back at camp about 10.30am and made a coffee. Thinking about what to do, I muttered to myself that I needed to get off my backside and give the rest of the last day a good crack before the rain came in the evening. The area had gone fairly quiet so I just planned on heading to a spot where I had not been in the last week and see what I could find. To be honest, I was happy with the stag on day one, but you can’t get the good stags if you’re in camp, right?

(Above: A Ruru checking out the inturder)

Shouldering my day bag I grabbed my .308 and wandered off in the direction of an area 500 to 600 metres away where I had seen a few hinds last winter. I had some rolling country with cover from the ridges and relatively open small gullies. I could see the sign was heavy as I neared my intended zone, and as there had been rain at night the last few days, it definitely helped keep the ground moist and quiet. I sat down and remained on each small ridge as I went and glassed the gullies before entering them with no response, but as I neared the top of an open ridge, I spooked two deer — it was a hind and a yearling walking away from me quickly around a big bush. I tried to get a photo but they must have been lying down and were heading away from me at a fast-walking pace, so no chance at that one.

I stood on the ridge looking around, with a clear view right below my feet for 30 metres. Since I had just spooked a few hinds, I decided to sit down and give a low Sika roar, or you could call it more of a moan. To my surprise, I got a new bark straight away from a stag, less than 50 metres away from me! I sat ready in case he came in and, low and behold, antlers that looked to be six points side-on appeared on the thick bit of crown fern. I placed the rifle on the ground beside me and picked up my camera, but when he moved his head slightly, I could see he was not a big six and in fact, he had what I thought eight points. With a very quick change around I had my .308 back in my hands as he came to a halt 20 metres above me, after seeing my movement.

He was on a 30-degree angle straight below my feet as he stopped and looked directly at me with just his eyes and antlers poking out of the crown fern. I quickly took aim, then fired and he was gone from sight with no noise of him running off… I quickly jumped to my feet, but as I chambered another round and looked up the hill I could see his antlers sticking out – I had got him!

I gathered myself and my gear and walked over to him. He looked to be an impressive eight-pointer when I shot him, but as I got close I could see he was a nine-pointer – I had shot my first nine point Sika and he was one that had been on my trail cameras since early March!

I stood there taking it all in and thinking how he had responded to the roar so much better. I had been a sequence of quiet calls and the change had worked beautifully in the gully’s close-range reply, and I was super happy I’d been able to camp for another close rifle. I snapped off plenty of photos, as you do, and took time to look him over. He did not have a big body, and I’m not picking up the weight, he has been a real cracker in another two or three years, but the rest is history I guess, and I am more than happy with him. I stumbled down a camp with all four legs, the back straps, and eye fillets, with the head mounted for photos. The lads had also had a cracker day and a top roar with some successful hunts under their belts. We all sat and sunk a beer as I chatted about the day’s events. Certainly, a roar to remember for all of us.

(Above: The 9 pointer when I first saw him on my cameras early March)

If you have any questions on game cameras and how they can improve your hunting please contact me via our Hunters New Zealand website or message me on Sika Hunters New Zealand on social media. Keep an eye out for part two of my Sika roar as Amie and I put another stag on the deck during her first roar trip.