Hunting in the Southern Alps

With my semester in NZ fast nearing its end, it was time for a long planned tahr trip. Organized through another forum, the plan was to helicopter into the Southern Alps for 5 days of hunting. Mountain hunting is absolutely my favorite kind, so I was obviously pumped.

I left with another guy from University at 3:00 AM on Wednesday morning and did the 4 hour drive to Christchurch. We met up with the rest of the group, 12 kiwis, 2 brits, and me, the lone yankee.

The helicopter came in, and started shuttling people into the mountains. The group would be at 3 different huts:

The scenery from the pickup was absolutely beautiful, and a gave me an idea what I was going to be up against:

My turn to fly:

From the air:

We landed outside the hut, at 900 meters above sea level:

The hut, where 6 of us would stay for the next five days:

We broke up into two groups of three, and headed up different rivers into separate valleys. It took us three hours to cover less than 2 miles, a testament to the difficulty of hiking along glacier rivers filled with rocks and covered in snow.

Glassing

We spotted a bull tahr after a bit of glassing. Center of the picture, do you see him?

We (Nathan and I) decided to have a go at him, so we crossed the river and started to hike up the opposing mountain. There was only one way to approach him, and unfortunately he winded us and buggered off. Hunting here is not for the faint hearted, steep, slippery and covered in loose rocks:

After the failed attempt we headed back to the hut just as it started to rain. It rained through the night and continued raining throughout the following day. Thursday morning we planned on heading up the main valley as a group, and then breaking off as we came across different areas worth exploring. At a bivy, we took a break and glassed the mountain behind the biv. There were 5+ tahr on the mountain, including a few bulls. Despite wearing gaiters, my feet had been soaked in a river crossing. Freezing feet aren’t fun, so I decided to wring out my socks in the biv. The other 5 guys were looking up the mountain, when something moving behind them caught my eye. A chamois was trying to sneak down the riverbed behind us! I ran out with one boot on and a sock in my hand, grabbed my borrowed rifle and lined up. After not the best shooting, this was the end result:

The biv I was sitting in is in the background:

As the expression goes, its better to be lucky than good, and I was pleased to shoot my first chamois, and a very nice one at that. I butchered him and headed back to the hut. Two of the other hunters tried to stalk the group of tahr on the mountain, but weren’t able to get into a shooting position.

The really sh!t weather started soon after we made it back. That night we had thunder and lightening, rain, freezing rain, snow, hail and sleet. The weather report over the mountain radio repeatedly warned of gale force winds. The precipitation continued through the night, and although it wasn’t weather you could hunt in, I needed to take a walk. Another guy and I went out Friday afternoon. The river that had been less than knee high was almost waist deep. It was not a pleasant crossing, and the fast current almost knocked me over. We headed up the valley, and the weather only worsened. We were cold from the crossing, and as we gained altitude it we moved into freezing rain and snow. Tahr hunting is not for the rational or faint hearted individual:

We spotted a few tahr up high, seemingly unbothered by the weather. There was no way to get to them, so we headed back to the hut. The bad weather continued into Saturday, and we didn’t leave the hut.

Our helicopter pickup was scheduled for 1pm Sunday, and it didn’t look like we would be able to get out. Luckily the weather cleared just long enough for us to get picked up. We all met back at the vehicles and after swapping stories and looking at the few animals shot, headed up. The problem was that all the rain washed out the road. The 4wds could get through, but my friend who I drove up with had to leave his little car behind to be retrieved after the road is repaired. It could be a while:

One driver had a screw up farther down the road:

We took the bus back to school. Unfortunately we only got 1.5 days hunting in, but that’s the way it goes in the mountains sometimes. Fortunately, the total trip cost (flight, food, gas, bus etc.) cost me less than $300 US. I didn’t get the bull tahr I wanted, so I guess I will have to try to make another trip out before I leave…

My 435 foot Bungy Jump in Queenstown

Fall Break Hunting Trip

A few weeks ago I had my fall break from Uni. What better way to spend a week off than hunting? Three other friends and I made a plan to hit the mountains for the week.

Thursday night we did the 8 hour drive up to Murchison. Since we would be hunting on some of my friends families property, we did a little work for his uncles, who own the property. They own a goldmine, so we spent the morning hours helping them out.

Since the families private land was being hunted at the moment, we decided to check another area. We loaded up for a few days and headed out. Climbed to the top of a ridge at just under 1000 meters. The weather was hot, and there were some very steep areas.

Brent checking the topo:

Trudging:

Beech Forest:

Cliff ledge:

Some views from the ridge:

We went down the backside, do an open spot along a stream. We made this our base camp for the next day, and glassed from right outside the tents.

One of the many bush robins that came to check us out:

We explored the area a bit, only to find it had been hit pretty hard. You can hunt year around in NZ, so many areas have constant pressure. We decided to cut our losses and walk out. We didn’t want to go back over the mountain, so we decided we would walk out through the river bottom of the valley. The problem was it ran off the topo, so we didn’t really know how long it would take to get out. Stupid idea. We broke camp and headed downstream at 2pm. An hour in we found some goats, and Brent shot a young one, which I took the meat off. Excited to get bloodied:

The trip turned out to be pretty hellish. The NZ bush isn’t easy stuff to go through, and we ran into problems. We weren’t out by sunset, put donned ou headlamps and kept pushing. There was no trail, so we were mostly going blind. Stupid. We got caught on a few ledges 80 feet up, in the dark. We had a few close calls, and finally decided to try to walk out by going down the stream. This worked until we came to a gorge. We were soaked, bloody, tired and pissed, so we made camp.

Fresh goat:

We awoke the next morning and did the final few hours out. We were glad to get out and looking forward to hitting Brent’s families property.

We headed to Brent’s grandmothers house to repack for out longer adventure:

Each of our bags was 50-65 lbs.

We drove to the valley and headed in:

I tried to teach Mark to flyfish. He has some work to do.

We camped along the river that night.

Then continued upstream the next morning. The total distance to the hut was about 16kilometers. Elliot and Brent taking a break:

The hut is at the end of the rainbow:

We made it to the hut, which was a fantastic place:

We got set up, and kicked back. We had already done some serious travel for the past few days, and deserved a break.

Some light reading:

Picture perfect:

We hunted a bit around the hut, hoping to find some red deer. The area had been hit pretty hard, unfortunately it borders public land, and a lot of people come across. We decided to split up, Brent and I would go 5K up the valley and then hit some mountaintops, looking for chamois. Mark and Elliot would cross the valley and do the same.

More beech forest:

We covered the 8K and 900 vertical meters in 2.5 hours. The views weren’t bad:

Glassing:

Not a bad place to spend the night:

Sunset in the mountains:

High mountain tarns:

The morning dawned frosty:

And foggy:

The best places are hard to get to:

My ugly mug:

Surveying:

Two Chamois on the ridgeline:

It turned out to be a group of four chamois. They saw us, and actually came towards us. They are curious buggers. I set up for a shot, and at 80 yards let lead fly. I was sure I hit him, but Brent said I missed… It felt good, IT WAS AT 80 YARDS, I just couldn’t see how I missed. I was pretty pissed, as I am sure you can imagine. The gun hadn’t been sighted in recently, and took a beating over the past few days, but Brent insisted it was still sighted in. I was left to brood for a while, and the group of chamois went over a near cliff face into some vertical terrain. They ended up hooking up with another group, and we could do nothing but watch them. Chamois in the snow:

Late in the afternoon we made another unsuccessful attempt, the details of which are too painful for me to recount. I am now almost positive the scope has been knocked around too much and isn’t right. We make it back to the tent and it is too dark to sight it in. That night some bad weather moved in. Morning dawned and visibility was less than 100 yards. Time to leave the mountaintops. We headed back for the hut.

Luckily Elliot and Brent had better luck. (it lost one horn when it threw itself off a cliff as it was dying) They had a very tough recovery.

We got back to the hut and found the chamois hanging. Elliot and Mark weren’t really sure what to do, so they carried the whole thing down the mountain! I was ready for some fresh meat, so I went to work on it.

As the butchery process was going on, a group of offroaders came up the valley, they pulled over to take some pics, and we managed to snag a ride out. The weather looked bad, so we didn’t see much of a point in staying longer.

We had been going for 6 days and had covered 70kilometers/45 miles, most of it with heavy packs. We were beat, but planned to head down to Fox glacier to mess around there for a few days. Unfortunately the weather called for huge amounts of rain and streets to be washed out, so we scraped that plan and headed back for Dunedin.

So the trip didn’t work out exactly as we had hoped, but we got a little bloodied and had a blast shooting the **** and tramping around in some of the most beautiful country in the world.

Doubtful Sound

I traveled to Doubtful Sound this past weekend, arguably one of the most beautiful spots in the world. There are no roads leading directly to the sound, so you have to take a ferry across Lake Manapouri to reach a bus that runs between the lake and Doubtful. (Sorry about the watermark, it was unintentional)

From land:

We would be on for an overnight cruise, staying here:

Saturday was beautiful, and we stayed on deck for much of the afternoon.

Some curious Dolphins:

A good sized boat- gives you an idea how big the mountains are.

Seals:

Saturday night brought heavy rain, a commonplace occurrence in Fiordland, parts of which get more than 6 meters of rain a year. Sunday morning came and the water was a bit choppier than it had been the day before, and the rain was still going. One good thing about the rain is that it causes waterfalls. There were hundreds of waterfalls that hadn’t been there before. The wind was really going hard, with sustained blows of 60 mph, and gusts harder than that. I could lean into the wind, and be held up.

Count the waterfalls:

Hyde St. Keg Party

Last weekend was the annual Hyde St. Keg Party. I always thought BC got wild, it iss church school compared to this. The whole street is closed down the day of the party. People start to arrive at around 11am, each in a costume. Every house on the street has a theme and 3-6+ kegs. That’s a lot of booze. The costumes are often times pretty outrageous, but NZ doesn’t have the same PC culture the US does. They don’t mean to offend, it is all in good fun.

Long range shooting

Went out with Pete this weekend and did a little long range shooting. Take a look at the video:

Tahr Hunting

 

Over the past few weeks here I have done my best to meet other hunters and let them know how eager I was to go out. Well this time last week I got a message letting me know there was an outing planned, and asked me if I wanted to go. Obviously I said I did. A plan was made, but one hunter had to drop out. It would be me and another kid from my university. We would be hunting tahr, New Zealands version of a mountain goat. It is a very demanding hunt, as they are high in the mountains. This would be primarily a meat hunt, as it is the end of summer here, the coat quality isn’t great.

We left school at 4:30 Friday afternoon. After a 3.5 hour drive, we turned off onto a dirt road.

We drove a few more kilometers and parked the car. The walk in would be 7 kilometers, just under 4.5 miles.

We made it in after doing the last few Ks in the dark. Across NZ much of the public land has huts for hunters/backpackers etc. They are fantastic places to stay. Many are old, and are decorated with the writings of past visitors:

“Men came to mend the fence on Oct 16(?)-25 1896″
<img src=”http://i230.photobucket.com/albums/ee203/Ahowe88/Tahr Hunt/DSCF0086.jpg” border=”0″>

We got settled into the hunt, and tried to sleep. Excited for the next day.

Morning broke with a heavy fog:

We were going to wait for the fog to clear a bit before going, but we were too eager, so glassed a bit and set out.

We set out sights for the top of a mountain, and climbed fast. It was a tough and long push up the mountain, but the views from the top, at 1300 meters, were worth it. The climb took a lot of energy out of us, so we had lunch as we glassed the surrounding slopes.

Part way through lunch we spotted a group of about 7 tahr. Pumped at the sight of game we put away lunch and formed a plan. We stayed low and used small ridges to our advantage. We snuck to within 270 yards, but we unable to get closer, as it was in open view. My hunting buddy, Pete, insisted I shoot first. I put a pack down as a base, and breathed deeply. The .243 spoke, and the tahr did a death roll down the mountain. The shot was good, taking out one shoulder and both lungs. The other tahr scattered, but I handed the rifle to Pete, hoping he would have a shot. One paused at 300 yards, and that was all Pete needed.

Two hunters, one gun, and two dead tahr. Not bad.

There are no salvage laws in NZ, you take what you want or can carry. I loaded my pack up with a bunch of meat, and prepared for the difficult walk back.

The ascent was VERY steep, and we stopped frequently to rest and enjoy the scenery.

We finally made it to the top, and headed back down to the hut. We found a nice gravel slide to aid in out descent. When done correctly, you can ride the gravel wave to the bottom without expending much energy.

Round trip, from leaving the hut to getting back, took us around 11 hours. We were beat, so sat back and enjoyed the scenery.

We devoured the tenderloins, and hit the sack early.

We woke up around 8am the next morning, not wanting to leave. It would be a long, heavy walk out, we opted to go the long way. First flat pasture walking:

Then along a stream:

But still plenty of pretty views:

Back at school, I’m excited I now have fresh meat. Hope you enjoy the goofball shot:

Total cost of the trip: $45US. Not a bad way to spend the weekend…

Cast of Characters

Mark- One of my roommates, from “Hick Town” Minnesota. He loves to hunt, and is an all around great guy. I couldn’t ask for a better roomie, I think we will be very good friends by the time we leave. We are also looking at getting a car together, a popular thing for international students to do while abroad.
Chris-My other roommate who is from Hong Kong. Very quiet, very serious about his studies. A nice guy, hopefully he will warm up to Mark and I. We have been doing out best to be buddies with him, but he is reserved.
Ben- A BC kid I hadn’t met before we came here. He is a very funny guy, and a talented film student.
Dan- Goes to Colby College, a small guy, but a ball of energy and an outdoorsman.
Dan- Also goes to Colby, a lot like the first Dan.
Dan- A “bro”, if you know what that means. Very happy and always ready to go out and have fun. Had cancer 4 years ago, and is now is incredibly cheerful and compassionate.
Tim- A Kiwi, grew up on a farm, helluva lot of fun.
Greg- Another kiwi, laid back but a lot of fun.
Bjornar- 24 year old from Norway, I have Labor Economics with him and hang out with him pretty frequently. All around good guy who is fun to be with.
Casper- From Denmark, and like Bjornar, is older. In that part of the world most people graduate high school, work for a year or two, then travel for a year, then go to school. Casper joined the Army, and is now in college. Quiet, great guy to talk to, also knows how to have a good time.
August-A Texan, don’t know him too well yet, but he loves to hunt and fish and I think I’ll be getting closer to him.
Morgan- One of the craziest women I have ever met. A party girl, but not shallow, boisterous and fun personality.
Mary- One of the sweetest girls I have ever met, a motherly type of friend.
Field- Another BCer, sweet and reserved.

O Week

Well classes have started, which means that Orientation Week (“O Week” as it is called here) is officially over. Insane can’t really describe the week before classes. Nothing really good can happen when 20,000+ students are together, in summer, with no classes, and a plethora of bars. The university sponsors a lot of events, and most of it is madness. Things you couldn’t even get away with in Mardi Gras don’t even cause people to bat an eye here. The University schedules a number of bands to play at night, and there are number of other activities during the day, some hosted by the school, others by bars.
The Bowler, a local bar, had Tanker Day. They pulled a Tanker full of beer up outside the bar at 9AM and challenged the students to finish the Tanker by 5PM.
Then Captain Cook has “The Cookathon”. Although the event was cancelled this year, meaning The Cook couldn’t advertise it, it happened anyways. What is The Cookathon? The students start to gather outside the bar at 8AM, usually grouped as a flat. You and your flatmates will pick a theme to go dressed up as. The costumes are mostly obscene, skimpy, hilarious or a combination of the three. The doors open at 10AM, and the participants drink for the whole day.
All the bars and clubs have specials and are generally packed and going nuts. The students are out til 4AM, generally raising hell, and for the most part the city doesn’t care.
The craziest activity I participated in was the Freshman Toga Parade. 2000 Freshman donned togas and as a group, paraded down the main road of the city, on the way to the center of town. This parade paralyzes the city. Now, unlike most parades, you don’t just watch the parade, you take part in it. The tens of thousands of people lining the streets throw thousands of eggs, water balloons, and flour at the freshman. This year it got out of control, with some people throwing far grosser things. In our attempt to find the parade, we ended up driving right through middle of it. Five of us were stuffed into my friends Corolla, throwing water balloons and eggs out the window. The freshman surrounded the car, beating it, jumping on it, throwing stuff at it, and tried to tear the doors off. They managed to get a water balloon to explode inside the car. It was NUTS.

While my parents are obviously reading this, slowly shaking their heads, and wondering what the heck I am doing here, O Week was great for more that drinking and partying. I met some great people during it, ones that I will hang out with for the rest of the semester.

A video from Wanaka

A short video I took from the top of the mountain