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Having lurked long enough, I thought it about time that I posted !

I have shot since I was a wee lad, and started stalking deer in the late 1970's. Although I still shoot with a shotgun,and some small game with my rimfires, It's been quite a while since I stalked.

A friend of mine is a stalker up in the North West of Scotland, and had,for a while, been asking me to get up there for a shot . Well, in October last year, I had an email from him, asking if I would like to go up and have a try for a stag.

I was keen on the idea, but felt it only fair to let him in on a few pertinent facts.

I'm 62 next birthday ( this was last year, remeber )
I'm not fit
My left knee is buggered
It would need to be "Easy Walking"

Two emails later it was agreed that I would travel up on Tuesday afternoon, and we would stalk on Wednesday. The weather forecast was shite for Tuesday, pretty reasonable Wednesday, and back to shite again on Thursday.

We had a plan.

I headed off from home at around midday on Tuesday and, after stopping for "supplies" and fuel en route, and had a great run up the road. By the time I was over the Kessock bridge,just North of Inverness, the weather was clearly changing, and not for the better.

The change did provide for some very nice views, having said that. I stopped to see if my 42% BV pee would help to kill off the Ragwort.

A nice view across to Stac Pollaidh after watering the Ragwort

And press on

Just South of Ullapool,I had a flood of good memories when I drove through Leckmelm. It was there that I shot my first Red Deer, almost thirty years ago.

By the time that I arrived at my pal's house, It was pissing rain and blowing a gale, all as per forecast. I snuck a quick cuddle from his wife and the two Cocker Spaniels while my pal wasn't looking, then went to have a shot with the 30-06 that he offered to let me use on the stalk.

Despite the gale blowing, I managed a couple of shots about .75" apart at 100 yds. Sadly, they were 4" high and 3" left of the POA. My pal had a couple of shots and his were in the same place. At least it wasn't me !

The easy option was to use another rifle, so out came the 25-06. Two shots, and we were good to go.

We were out just before 6am on Wednesday morning, to have a wee drive to see if there was anything nice and close to the road that would get the day off to a good start ( bare in mind, please, that this was not tropy hunting, just culling ).There was. My pal nailed it, so we had opened the scoring.

It was then back to the house for some breakfast and the stalking proper.

We dropped my car off at the point where we would leave the hill after our stalk, and drove to the starting point about three miles up the road, in my pal's vehicle.

The weather had brightened and looked promising for the day as we set off onto the open hill ground. Underfoot was very wet as was to be expected after days of rain.

We soon spotted a bunch of deer, about a mile and a half away, and a count by both of us made it a group of 28 stags. They were approachable, but it would entail a long, careful approach to get above them. With them in mind we set off, but always looking out for other deer, which can easily be hidden in the natural folds of the terrain.

We spotted another, closer, group of ten stags, but they were in an impossible position for an approach, so we still angled for the big bunch of 28. Another couple of hundred yards showed four stags, laying down by a huge rock in the middle of a (relatively) flat bit of ground, and some 900 yds. from us.

It would have been difficult to get past them without them seeing us, and they would probably have then spooked our target group, although they were still a mile away. Given the situation, we opted to try for one of the group of four.

Using a wee gully, and any dead ground we arrived in a position which we agreed, should put us in line with the stags, and at a nice distance for a shot.
My pal crawled up to the top of a wee heather covered knoll for a look-see.

When I saw him open the bi-pod on the rifle, I knew that we were good to go. I got the signal from him to get up behind the rifle.

Looking through the 'scope revealed "our" four stags, at 140 yds, enjoying the sunshine, with a nice steady wind to keep the flies away.

It had been pointed out to me that we were not in the best of places to drag from, and his instructions were clear : " Take the smallest bugger "

That was fine by me, but looking through the 'scope it was obvious that one stag knew that something was amiss. He was looking right at us, and, although not yet alarmed, he was suspicious.

I could only see the antlers of the two youngest beasts. The third one was arse end on to me. A possible head shot only. The forth one, who was still looking, was OK for a neck shot, but I opted to wait. It was agreed that whichever one presented the best chance of a good, clean shot, would win the prize.
My suspicious stag made the decision to stand up, and that settled his fate. I was already on him when he stood, and it was crosshairs behind the front leg, a third of the way up the body and squeeze for the heart. It takes longer to type than to take the shot.

He ran, maybe 20yds, although he was already dead.

The other three jumped up. I had reloaded without thinking about it after the first shot, and had the crosshairs on another beast. I asked my pal if he wanted another one down. After a second or two of hesitation he, very wisely, said no.
No doubt that you will have guessed that the one shot was the biggest of the four ! A very nicely conditioned nine pointer. 11:30 am on the dot.

A cracking highland stalk in stunning scenery.

Now the work started.

I opted to gralloch the beast and then we would drag to a place where we could get the quad in to, which is very limited on this estate.

We both dragged for about half a mile, left the carcass and walked out to where we had left my car, about another mile, or so. In my car, we went to get the other vehicle and then back to base to load up the quad.

Quad on the trailer, we went to where the quad track meets the road and set off to retrieve the stag.

You will know, I assume, that the quad only carries one person, so I had to walk in.

We got the quad to within about 300yds of the carcass. Sadly, that 300 yds. was quite uppy/downy with a burn ( stream ) to cross, but such is life.

The plan was to tie the dragging rope to the tow hitch and drag the stag to the road. The rope was tied at 14:30, some three hours since I'd squeezed the trigger !

Situation normal. My pal drove the quad, and I walked behind, keeping the stag's head off the ground to prevent the antlers digging in.:rolleyes:

15:30 we reached the road.

While my pal got the quad on the trailer, I did my bit for Visit Scotland by talking to a German tourist who had stopped his car to see what the hell these two mud/blood/sweat covered individuals were doing.

Load "my stag" into the van, along with the one shot in the morning, and head to the larder.

At the larder we weighed "my Stag" and it was 210lbs., sans antlers.

When the pluck was drawn, it showed that my shot was good, blowing the heart to buggery.

By the time it was ready for the chiller, the dealer weight was 74kg.

After both deer were processed and the larder cleaned we got back to the house at 18:15. Just twelve and a quarter hours since we left. A large dram was the order of the day, and well deserved, even if I say so myself.

I'd only walked about seven miles in total, but I found it quite hard going, I must say.

I don't know how many deer I've shot since I started stalking in 1977. I never bothered to keep a count, but this stalk will remain one of my fondest memories, that's for sure.

If any of you guys get the chance, take it. It's a beautiful country !

Steve.