FEATURE Rick Bichel

As most of you know, there is a stark difference between public land and private land hunting. Both have challenges, both have a different reward. Having a successful hunt in a state forest, for me, is a very humbling adventure, especially if all goes to plan.

It was late last year when I was scrolling through YouTube looking for some content to watch after dinner. I came across a European hunting video where the creator harvested a beautiful Hungarian fallow buck in full velvet. I have always loved the look of these majestic animals when they are in peak condition, feeding up for the rut and fuelling antler growth. I hatched a plan to book a well-known state forest that now, due to the high numbers of deer in a small huntable section, is balloted for the rut period.

After I made a few phone calls the next day to some more experienced hunters, it was decided I would aim for the Australia Day long weekend. The fallow should just be in hard velvet and in bachelor mobs. I had been in this state forest in late August the year before and had filmed a few nice bucks in and around the sections where the native bush meets the logged sections of the pine forest. I had let them walk, hoping they will make it through the year and that, with plenty of good feed and water around, the potential to harvest a quality public land buck could eventuate.

I had originally planned to take the family on a camping trip, but other plans came up for my wife and boys, so I was to do this trip solo. My preference, especially for a trip like this, is to hunt solo so all focus can be on the task at hand. There are always a lot of eyes on you while traversing through the bush, plenty of ’roos accompany the many deer that call this state forest home. I had the chance to get out of work early on the Thursday, make my way down the Hume Highway, get into a camp spot early enough to let the area settle overnight. Hopefully I would find what I had set out to secure, a healthy NSW state forest fallow buck in hard velvet for the trophy room, along with a freezer full of top-quality meat.

That night, I quickly set up an easy base camp, had a feed and was in bed early. My plan was to track through a section of native bushon first light, check out some dams holding water for sign,throw a few cameras up to see whatwas moving about with the heat,and make my way to a section where plenty of game trails all funnel into a catchment that leads into a creek system.Itwasn’tlong before the first few hinds, all with young ones at foot,appeared in the low light conditions. I watched them as they slowly tracked toward me. There is something about watching deer move about unfazed bytheirsurround.

Once they had passed, I moved into the area that has two dams close together, surprisingly not much sign on the water line, but plenty in the surrounding native bush. I pushed on further to the gully head of the area I wanted to be in. I didn’t want to be in here too early, as I was hoping to catch the bucks on the way back from the morning ritual in the young pine plantation feeding on the green pick between the tree lines. I worked slowly down into the catchment to a bench section that runs along the face of the gully facing north. Once again, I watched plenty of hinds and young ones going about their business. It was around 10am by the time I got to the section where I believed the action would unfold.

Pushing out of the thicker stuff, I could hear some movement in the adjacent bush. I stopped and waited. A large buck materialised out of the thicket. My heart skipped at my first sight of him, but once he turned his head I saw that, although one antler was very impressive, the other side was malformed. I contemplated chambering a round, but decided to watch him as he knew something wasn’t right but couldn’t define what I was.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn to the skyline, some 300m up the next ridge in the felled timber. Five bucks were moving quickly in the open area toward my position, tracking along the ridgeline. Then down from the sky they bolted, making a bee line to the area behind me and the safety of the trees. I noticed the larger buck had decided to stay out wide of me and broke off from the other four bucks. I made a quick decision to pick one of the many game trails that funnel into the one I was standing nearby. The only chocolate buck in the mob made his last move and chose the wrong game trail. I chambered a 168-grain Barnes TTSX in my Beretta BRX1 308 and placed the Swarovski cross hairs on his chest. The rifle barked, the buck folded, and I watched his mates scamper past me into the creek line. As I stood there, taking it all in, I realised my plan had come to fruition.

As I approached the fallen buck, I could see his antlers, in hard velvet and he was in prime condition. This is why I hunt; this is why I choose my lifestyle. The reward at the end of the adventure. Now the hard work starts!

Our gift from all those who fought to gain access on public land many years ago has given the everyday hunter an opportunity to harvest quality game, whether it be the many species of deer, goats, pigs, rabbit or foxes, but it’s in our hands to ensure our future generations will have the same. Thank you to those involved, and to those who maintain the fight.