Westernport Branch member Ryan Winter recounts a successful trip into the Victorian High Country with great mates.
As I double checked I had everything in my pack, I was overwhelmed with excitement to head away for the weekend. Spending a weekend in the Victorian High Country chasing sambar wasn’t something new to me. This year by mid-July, I’d already spent 16 weekends in the bush and the previous years were much the same, when I wasn’t in lockdown.
The plan for this trip was to backpack into an area with a few guys I’d met through the ADA; James, Justin and Geoff. However, the week before the trip, Geoff came down with the dreaded Covid and had to cancel.
I’d recently spent some time doing day trips in this area, finding a lot of signs and filming some hinds on the adjoining ridge. The plan was to meet up late Friday afternoon, camp at the cars and hike in first thing Saturday morning. After a couple of beers and some of Justin’s venison snags around the fire, it was time to hit the hay and rest up for the early hike in.
We headed off at first light. It wasn’t a long way in to where we were going, a couple of kilometres, but certainly a steep climb. James took off like a jack rabbit and was probably where we planned to camp before Justin and I left the cars. Justin and I took our time and stopped a couple of times to have a quick glass and to let the burning in my calves calm down.
When we reunited at the top of the ridge, I was in awe of the views we had from camp - 360-degree and we could see for kilometres. We set up our tents and took off to glass the amazing country surrounding us, me to the left of the ridge and the other boys to the right. The first day was in the bag and we were happy to know there were deer in the area, or kind of; I spotted a hind at 700m and James took some photos of a hind he spotted on the face he was watching 500m away. The plan for Sunday was going to be much the same, me to the left of the ridge and Justin and James to the right.
I set my alarm nice and early as I wanted to get to my glassing spot before first light so I could watch the faces being lit up with the sunrise. It did exactly that. After sitting and glassing for an hour, James popped over to my side to let me know he had spotted a hind feeding. I grabbed my binos and camera to go have a look. After watching her for five minutes, I headed back to where I’d set up. I hadn’t seen anything on my side, so I was tempted to pack up and head over with the other guys. I’m glad that I didn’t!
Where I was sitting, I had a nice face 250m away and a clearing at 130m. As I was sitting there, eyes glued to my binos, I spotted movement. A stag! He came out of the gully between the two faces I was watching and seemed spooked, running up the hill into thick cover 300m from me. I cycled a round and picked the binos up. Where did he go? I searched the area for the next half hour but couldn’t see him. I went over to where the other boys were to tell them I'd spotted a stag and they came over.
All three of us sat there, eyes glued to our binos and I said to Justin “It would be nice if one popped out in that clearing” pointing to the clearing 130m from us. He smiled and chuckled “That never happens”. While we waited for something to pop out, I kept hearing movement and then a loud crack of a stick breaking. I looked to Justin and whispered “Did you hear that?” "Yep” was his reply. As I sat there watching and waiting, movement caught my eye at the edge of the clearing. A stag appeared and he was revved up, smashing a small tree with his antlers and looking for another to demolish.
I had a perfect rest on the log that my rifle had been leaning on all morning. As I looked through the scope and waited, he turned and offered the perfect shot. I settled the crosshairs on his right shoulder, flicked the safety off and BOOM! The shot felt good and he reared up on his back legs. Justin said “Give him another one!” I tried to steady my shaking hand to cycle another round but he trotted in to some thick stuff before I had a chance.
We were excited. The boys were congratulating me and shaking my hand, but I didn’t want to get too excited until we found him. James used the sight and go feature on his Rhino and locked in the spot where he was hit.
We returned to camp to empty our packs and then took off for the search. We looked where he was standing when I made the shot but found no blood. I then made my way from the edge of the clearing to where he had crashed off. As I got to the top of the clearing, it dropped off into thick bush and I could see him piled up, not 30m from where he was hit. I was relieved!
After a few photos, we got to work taking the front shoulder not destroyed by the shot and the back legs, back straps and tenderloins. Back at camp we boned a back leg and front shoulder to put in my pack along with the back straps so that I could carry the head over my shoulders. James chucked a back leg in his pack and Justin carried some of my gear. The guys left their camps set up as they were staying another night.
We headed out to the cars with Justin leading like a bulldozer, moving logs and rocks and clearing the path for us to follow, while James was helping me down awkward parts and helping me get up when I fell over, which was more times than I’d like to admit. We made it down and after I packed my stuff in the car, the others headed back up the ridge for another night. Legends!
On the drive home, it all sunk in, I’d finally shot my first sambar stag, an achievement I’ve been obsessing over for the past four years. The time, effort and dedication I’d put in over those few short years as a sambar hunter made the trip one that I’ll never forget.
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