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Never got around to posting this here back in November... I'm still chewing my way through two sambar stags, bit hard at the moment while I am in the USA for 6 weeks.

Just got back home from my annual VIC ‘work’ pilgrimage... Once again, I will only make this a short report and basic images - as I am planning a future magazine story...

This year I decided to take my head-guide Peter Harding for a sambar hunt up to the AHNi club property near Corryong, near the NSW border. I had been meaning to get there anyhow - and for some reason it just seemed like the right thing to do. Ohhhh how it was!! AHN’s own Mark Rohde (sometimes called ‘The Aggressive Poster’ on AHN) decided to join us too, so it became something of a ‘guides getaway’. Neither Pete nor I were yet to even see a mature, wild sambar stag – in a shootable position, let alone take one. Mark of course has taken a few, including a ripper of a stag a few years back... but Mark sure wasn’t going to rest on his laurels - he was going to get out there amongst the big boys!!

Pete & I rocked-up to the house and hunters quarters. Mark was already there with the property and hunt caretaker, our own AHN member Shifty Prick (Graham)... doing some pre-hunt ‘scouting’. I thought that was a little unfair but I let it ride – it wasn’t my fault I was late and it was nearly dark already. Sheesh – talk about jumping the gun!! :rolleyes:

We settled into the digs. It proved to be very comfortable – a steel cabin with separated rooms, carpeted floor, beds, kitchen, log fire – all the mod cons. The verandah of the luxurious abode was shared with a nest of swallows. That night the two nestlings found their way into ‘the lodge', where they couldn’t seem to get out. I let Mark and Pete entertain themselves, giggling like little kids, trying to catch them, while I read the paper. After they had their fun I gave them a quick demonstration of my cat-like ninja skills and snatched the birds one-by-one out of the air. This was really the highlight of the trip for me - but I don’t think they gave the credit it deserved... :rolleyes:

Friday morning we were up and away at sparrows fart plus thirty minutes (otherwise known as ‘T minus three coffees’) and we went our separate ways. The two amigos ventured up respective gullies and deer were spotted but no stags. Myself? I went ‘scouting’ in the heated 80-series, up along some of the nearby forestry trails, looking for crossing tracks, fresh rubs and nearby wallows. 3G phone and Internet service was also achieved and I paid a bill, answered some emails and downloaded a short but interesting pornographic film. OK – I lied about paying the bill and the emails were actually just to my bookmaker - but I digress. ... I spotted two small groups of fallow along the way, found a high track that took me closer to them but only managed to flush out about 50 roos.

After a sumptuous lunch back at camp, the boys made for the hills again and I gave the impression that I was going to burn some serious calories but the reality is that I liked my chances more sitting on a gully on the edge not far from camp. Oh yes - the dreaded ‘fringe’ country that one hears so much about. I saw a couple more fallow, back in the bush but they didn’t come out... in the end a mob of 30-odd cattle thought the gully was a pretty sweet too and moved in for the night.. :rolleyes:. The other boys saw a few more too but didn’t pull the trigger.

Saturday dawned early – but we didn’t. Heavy-ish rain in the morning kept us in bed till about 10.00. Bacon, eggs and coffee and the rain started to let-up. Sun shone through in patches. Rohde wasn’t really grinning he was starting to really feel the effects of the flu coming on. (Pete thanks you for his dose of the flu too Mark – I warned you two not to kiss!!) . Mark suggested to himself that he should HTFU and I just said – ‘yes you should’. You know, someone has to take control in these situations! Anyhow Mark was off up the mountain to take advantage of the spreading sunlight and stayed out till dark. Pete did a short hunt and then we went for a drive with Ozzie-Paul to scout some new county. One look at a particular gully was all I needed. I just said Pete – you go there!!

We also managed a quick trip to town for some extra beverages and BBQ chicken (it was my turn to cook that night). Later in the arvo Pete headed over to the new spot in the 80, while I walked (still-hunted) another patch of fringe but this time from inside the trees. I didn’t see much except for a bunch of roos and wombats and more blessed cows, that once again ruined the twilight hour by going mental when they busted me.

When I got back to camp after a good slog Pete and Mark were in front of the fire. Pete was obviously regaling him with some story and a bloody great grin was on his face. He smelled like stag. "So -what did you get?" - “I got two.... stags!!” - “WTF?” – “Well I shot one small stag, thinking oh well 'it's my first - caped and boned it out and it was still light so kept walking and saw a bigger one and had a running shot at it and missed it completely and then 30 minutes later saw another even bigger one and shot it!!” – “Get fucked, show me the photos”... so he did and he sure had.

Considerable cheer ensued - port was drunk, BBQ chicken sandwiches eaten, plots hatched and decisions made. Mark wasn’t so cheery – he was starting to feel like a dog turd in the pouring rain – gradually falling apart. That didn’t stop him from drinking most of the port however, right after telling me he used to have a little ‘port problem’ :rolleyes:. Apparently port is a flu cure?? We decided to leave the meat and capes and extra photos till morning.

Peter says to Mark and I – “you guys should go into that valley again in the morning – there are shit-loads of animals in there”... Nah says I, knowingly – let’s leave them a day or two and let them settle down, then go in. Ummmm, says Pete – you REALLY should go in there asap. I looked at Mark and I saw a glint in his eye and it isn’t his rheumy hay-fever glaze either – I can read his mind and he is serious ... he doesn’t care if I don’t go ... he is going anyway!! OK – we’ll all go I says... :dancing:

Very first light in the morning and Mark & I venture into the Valley of the Kings, while Pete and the rest of the retrieval and photography team waited at the vehicles to give us a head start up the valley. This was real broken fringe country with awesome lush green benches right up into the forest. Could it get any better?? Mark and I proceeded up the track and checked the first opening just as the light was really starting to come good. We rounded a corner in the track and up onto the next bench I looked immediately into the depths of the far side, only to see a good size tree behind an old blackberry bush being violently shaken.

Amazingly my first thought in my mind was ‘Red Stag’, I don’t know why ... it just seemed like a scenario not fitting a sambar in my mind ... Disbelieving I pointed at the tree with shaking finger. A very big (huge) fat brown arse could clearly be seen sticking out from behind the bush. I wasn’t sure it wasn’t actually a second deer (possibly looking at us) around the stag, in the low-light. Both of us raised binos in unison. I couldn’t speak... Mark just hissed... ‘ivory tips – shoot it’. He only had to say it once. There was the most convenient tree ever, right in front of us - all that was needed was two short steps. Speechlessly I lifted the 375 and without looking at the antlers centred the cross on the animals chest and dropped the pin. The stag collapsed right there.

I won’t go on with this because I will just be rambling... obviously this stag is an awesome animal that (all jokes aside) I feel incredibly privileged to have witnessed on the hoof, taken part in his final moments and will now share my home with. The fact that I experienced this whole hunt with two other dedicated deer hunters, friends, with similar interests and ideals does not escape me. The fact that my mate Mark was right there for the kill was really cool and I know he will relive that moment just as I will, just as if he had of taken the shot himself.

The stags: I know that what we (Pete & I) did was ridiculously easy – it was just like winning a raffle. We have slogged our share of hills, although not as many as others who have had less results. We were damned lucky and fortunate and we do appreciate that. There was a bit of calculation, planning and execution (funny word that) in it too – but mostly dumb luck. I feel a bit sorry for Pete... he shot an awesome 25x26 inch stag and it was a great achievement for a guy on only his second sambar hunt – which was almost completely overshadowed by the taking of my stag... and that should not have been the case. It was his moment...

The hunting area: The VIC AHNi property is a really great set-up. What more can you ask for? Great hunting area both public and private adjacent, good accomm, beautiful country and good numbers of two species of deer!! I urge anyone (keen and honest) looking for some great hunting country within 5 hours of either Sydney or Brisbane should look at joining the AHNi club and talk to us about hunting this block. There are no secrets within the AHNi fraternity in relation to this and other hunting areas. Members and members only will know about where we and others get animals while there and info will be shared freely. This is the spirit that has been shown by AHNi members using this area in the past and I trust that it will continue.

Of course none of this happens there without Graham - Shifty Prick - truly one of ‘nature’s gentlemen’ .... Graham, Paul and their whole family are great. You have never met more genuine, generous, salt-of-the-earth type people than this mob. Thanks so much to you all for the friendship and generosity you extended to our group and I trust that all future AHNi visitors will treat you folks well. You are THE BEST!!

One more thing I will share with you. On Sunday morning after we had recovered the three animals back to camp... I cooked up a big feed of thinly cut backstrap slivers, off Pete's big stag, plus bacon and eggs. The look on Pete’s face, tucking into his freshly killed stag was priceless... he was in hunters heaven!! Not prone to waxing lyrical sentiment, I was surprised when he took a slurp of his coffee and just simply said.... “these will be the days we will look back on as the Good Old Days”... never a truer word spoken I reckon mate!!! :tu2:

Sorry about the quality on some of these image.... taken on my phone....

Pete's awesome stag.

My bad boy...

Shifty Sambar Recovery. Inc. - Paul, Graham, Christian...

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www.huntaust.com.au

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