Hunting tahr had never really been up there on my to-do list. I had always loved seeing the images of hunters up in that steep country pursuing them and the stories that came with it, but I’ve always been happy just planning the next sambar trip.
That all changed when a new group chat notification from Rob ‘Herbie’ Herbert popped up on my phone one afternoon. Rob, Marty and Brendan had made a trip over there a few years back, and now Rob had the idea of putting a crew together to stretch our wings seeing that the lockdowns and travel restrictions had lifted. The plan was to head across the ditch and try our luck on some of these shaggy critters. Seeing our adventures over the past two years had been minimal, I jumped at the opportunity to go and we quickly set a date for a spring hunt in early November.
The research began. What gear did we need? Where will we go? How do we get there? What permits do we need? We assigned a few tasks to each party member to take care of. Fortunately, with the use of social media, we could contact a few mates and fellow hunters that live and breathe NZ hunting. They were more than keen to help us give it a crack self-guided. Now all we had to do was wait. As the months rolled by, and with all of us busy with life and family, November was on us before we knew it and we were loading the packs into the back of the Land Cruiser and on our way to the airport.
Flying into Queenstown has to be one of the best, most scenic spots to land in the world. You are welcomed by snow-capped mountain ranges and valleys carved out by ancient glaciers. There was enough turbulence to get the heart going in case you had dozed off during the flight, too.
We gathered our gear, cleared customs and collected our visitor’s firearms permits from the local authorities. Then it was off to collect our rental car and do a final round of shopping to finish the packing list.
We had a quick stop to visit Cam McKay, who runs a company named Points South and is the Australian and New Zealand distributor for First Lite hunting gear; he was kind enough to give us a bit of a briefing on what to expect, what to look for and how to tackle the terrain. Of course, we picked up a few new bits of extra gear before heading to our accommodation for the night, full of anticipation.
In what felt like a blink of an eye it was the next day and we were unloading our gear from the helicopter amongst the rugged snow-capped mountains of the remote west coast. We got a brief rundown of the area from the pilot, then he was skids up and heading back to grab the other blokes. I just turned and looked at Herbie, his grin reflecting mine, and we echoed each other’s next words: “How good is this!”
We scouted the area for camp locations and cleared the landing area. While doing so, we spotted a bull tahr on a distant ledge, so we got the optics out to get a good look. Then we could hear the thud of the rotors coming up the mountain, so we secured anything lying around and welcomed the delivery of Marty and Brendan to our home for the next few days. Time to make camp and get amongst it!
We decided the best course of action was to split into two groups of two to try to cover a bit of the mountain to locate some animals, which worked out well with both groups spotting some tahr. After some big climbs and a lot of glassing, we regrouped back at camp that night to plan the next few day’s activities.
The next morning hadn’t even broken and we were up and huddled around our burners making a pre-dawn brew. With a big bright moon and the keas already calling their mates to come to have a nibble on our tents and chairs, we wouldn’t be getting any sleep-ins on this trip.
We all had some plans, so we said our “good lucks”, set times for radio check-ins and headed off under the moonlight. Rob and I set out to the area we had scouted the day before, while Marty and Brendo would push up and around the other side of the mountain. After the expected big climbs, there were some even steeper climbs, water crossings and lots and lots of glassing, but we finally got our first good encounter. I spotted a young tahr popping out of some scrub to catch some of the early morning sun, and we watched it bed down on a tuft of vegetation dangling above a 15m drop. We ranged it at 380m, and as we were using a 243 we decided it would be too risky to take the shot. We watched it for a while and just tried to observe its habits and movements, trying to dial our eyes in to find them a bit more easily.
Then the fog rolled in, and that put a stop to that. It was so thick and bloody cold. We just had to find a spot to hold up and wait. Hours went by, with us just sitting there. Every now and then it would break, and we could glass a bit and get a reference of where we were, but they were little windows. It was too dangerous to walk back in the conditions, so we just relaxed and made the most of it. It gave us some time to soak in the scenery, tucked up on a ledge in some tussock above a huge mountain chute that disappeared down into the clouds below, talking all things hunting and life. We both tried to make each other laugh to take our minds off our fingers and noses that felt like they were about to freeze off. We were learning the mountain and its habits now and knew what we needed to do the following day.
Chatting with the crew back at camp that night, we all shared stories of the areas we had explored, what animals we had seen, and how bad that fog got. We were all now keen and thought we had a good chance for the following day. The other boys had seen a few animals but had to work out their approach, whereas we hadn’t seen as many for the day but had a good feeling where they would be held in the morning, as we had glassed a small mob up late that afternoon. After a good feed, we all retired for the night, ready for another big day.
Once the morning rituals were completed, we were quickly halfway up the mountain and glassing in the dawn light but not seeing anything. We both had a good feeling, though, as the sign we were seeing was indicating that the tahr were spending a lot of time in the area, and everything was feeling right. I had thought that when we reached ‘the spot’, we would be on.
Picking our way through and around boulder outcrops and steep drops keeps you alert. As we were arriving at our destination, I saw Rob’s body language change. He became dead still with his head looking just up to our right. I saw his hands move towards the rifle sling and I heard him whisper something … I knew it was game on. He indicated the tahr was above us; as he got to a shooting position, I slowly got the camera out and started filming. Before we knew it, I spotted a tahr moving at the base of the chute and pointed it out to Rob. It had dropped about 100m in a matter of seconds. He quickly took a rest against a big rock, lined it up and squeezed off a shot. The animal dropped out of frame instantly, and I thought it had just flattened on the spot. Then Rob saw movement to the left, and it was the tahr coming up out of a deep cut in the hill and walking out to a ledge. He moved from his kneeling position against the rock rest, lay prone amongst the grass and got on target. The hushed pop from the suppressed .243 was met by a deeper thud, and we knew it was a solid impact. We checked the video, took in a few landmarks, and started to make a plan. The hard part was about to begin; getting down there and finding the tahr.
The journey down took about 30 minutes, as we very cautiously picked our path down. We arrived at the spot we assumed was where the tahr was at the first shot, but were unable to find blood. We quickly realised that what we thought was a lush, elevated meadow area, was in fact dense, knee-high scrubby grass and bush, scattered with crevices hidden by vegetation and deep mini-gullies that dropped about 3-4m down and were only about 4m across. We decided to try and find the ledge where the tahr was at the second shot but, once again, it turned out to be a series of these complex ground features, despite appearing flat from our elevation. I wouldn’t let it go though. Today had gone as planned so far, and I would look all day if I had to. Things started getting sketchy as I pushed into more difficult areas, so Rob took an elevated position to help me navigate from above.
The next thing that I heard Rob say was, “look at that!” I thought he had spotted the animal, but he was looking at the next face across from us. A good mob of tahr led by two big bulls were dropping down the hill, and I do mean actually free-falling at some stages, the descent was that steep. I scampered up to check it out and get some footage. It was crazy how fast these animals could get down vertical faces without a care in the world. Chasing each other around and balancing on ledges with no more than a small foothold. It made my hands sweat just watching them. We started discussing backup plans knowing that the mob was settling in. When I looked down to my left, I saw a lower ledge we hadn’t seen before. I inched closer to the edge and lifted the binoculars to look. Instantly I could see a light brown clump under a big green bush that looked out of place. It looked like a rotted tussock but moved differently in the wind. My heart jumped into my throat when I realised what it was. I turned to Herbie with a massive grin and gave him a thumbs-up. Slowly I saw the realisation wash over him; then it turned quickly to worry as he yelled, “how the hell I am going to get down there to you?” I just laughed.
After we finally found a route down, we stopped just a metre away and said a big congratulations to each other; I dropped down another little ledge and could drag it out and confirm it was a nice young bull. We couldn’t believe it! What a series of events the past few hours had been. We were on the edge of the world, in nearly all directions around us there was a vertical face that dropped to the valley below. We worked out the tahr had been hit solidly on the second attempt and dropped but had fallen into a little chute that deposited him about 10m further below. We snapped a few pictures and got to work breaking it down. We got to put some of our knives to the test, a Little River, one of my designs, and Rob’s new Zoey Zippers, which helped remove the full skin with minimal meat attached.
I somehow landed the task of carrying everything back to camp, seeing I was the only one smart (or dumb) enough to bring an actual pack with me that day. Cheers, Herbie! We identified some of our landmarks on the ridge above from our little platform, and with that fog starting to roll in. We slowly made our way back up and over the hill then back down the other side to camp. Dodging a few pitfalls along the way, including a rather nasty one we had to get across what we politely named ‘Satans anus.’
When the boys returned to camp that night, we all had some awesome stories to share and some damage assessments to be made due to those pesky keas. Marty and Brendan had ended up in a golden zone and saw stacks of animals. Both were able to get shots into some, but unfortunately they had dropped away into the abyss and were not retrievable.
Marty had the experience of climbing up onto a ledge only to come face to face with a young tahr kid. It stayed around long enough for a few pictures and then displayed its parkour skills and high-tailed it out of there.
Due to some nasty forecasts, we had to pull out of the hunt a day early as we received word the chopper pilot might struggle to get us due to heavy fog. The next morning we broke down camp and got ready for our pickup.
After arriving back in town and dropping off the tahr to the taxidermist, we caught up with a few locals for a bit of a debrief on the trip and filled them in on the events. It blows me away how supportive everyone we met along the way was. Whether it was someone that worked in the hunting industry, giving us tips and pointers, or the person serving us a pie and coffee in a small town along the way, everyone was always friendly, keen for a chat and ready to talk hunting. What an amazing part of the world it is. I can’t wait to go back next year to share another adventure with some good mates.
Here is an indicative guide to what you need and to bring, a good starting point for planning your hunt.
Temporary firearms licence
https://www.firearmssafetyauthority.govt.nz/manage-and-apply/visitors/visitor-firearms-licence
DOC hunting permit with selected areas you intend to hunt
Backpack
Kuiu Icon Pro 6000 on Pro Suspension including carbon frame
Sleep system
Tent: Mont Dragonfly (4 season) and ground sheet.
Sleeping mat: Sea to summit Etherlight XT
Sleeping bag: One Planet Bushlite -15oC
Pillow: Sea to summit aeros
Thermals: long leggings and long hooded top
Equipment
Garmin Inreach Mini 2
Garmin Rino 750
Silva compass
Local map
Nitecore NU25 headlight
KTI personal locator beacon
First aid kit
Emergency whistle
SOL emergency bivy
15m of para cord
Fire kit: Pyro Putty Arc lighter with stored Pyro putty
Sea to Summit trowel
Luci lantern (Solar)
15,000 MAH power bank
Trekking poles (Denali)
Kuiu glassing mat
Helinox chair zero
Cabelas Kwik Stik (collapsible)
Low-vis gear shooting bag
Knives
R&N Blades Zoe Zipper
Habitat Blades Little River
Worksharp Fifld sharpener
Lightweight storage bag
Cooking
Stove burner: Soto Windmaster
Jetboil gas canister and stand
PAST Outdoors titanium cup
Sea to Summit X Pot kettle
Nalgene bottle (1L)
Sawyer water filter
Water bladders x 2 (2L)
Sea to Summit titanium spork
Optics
MeFoto road trip carbon tripod with small rig lightweight pan head
Maven S.1A 25-50x80 spotter
Maven B1.2 10x42 binoculars
Outdoorsman tripod adapter with stud in binoculars
Kuiu binocular harness with small pouch for point and shoot camera
Nikon Coolpix A900 35x zoom camera
Sony RX10 iV bridge camera
Arca Swiss plates on all optics to suit pan head
Clothing (Hunting)
Pants: First Lite Corrugate Foundry with removable knee pads in
Kuiu climbing belt
Base layer: Kuiu Gila hooded L/S
Mid layer: Peleton 97 fleece
Top layer: Kuiu strongfleece hybrid 260
Packable down jacket (Macpac)
Kuiu Gila neck gaiter
Gloves: First Lite Talus Touch merino
Bushbuck snake gaiters
Boots: Lowa Rangers
Socks (three pairs)
Rain jacket: Kuiu Kutana storm shell
Note: This was what I hunted in for the entire trip. The rain jacket was stored in the pack. Extra layers and clothing had been packed but not worn including extra base layer air mesh long sleeve shirt, leggings, shorts, fleece short sleeve shirt.
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