Stalking interruptions, any stories?

[Sol]

More of a story intended thread, Anyone have any (annoying) stories of something going tits-up right before a shot/stalk?

Too clarify I dont do morning stalks, well I do but they require an overnight stay so everything has to line up for it to work out, every morning at least 3-4 times a week this particular buck we've seen probably for the last 3 months, I've came close to shooting It at least 3 other times (I admit, one time might of been a different buck but regardless same spot so it counts!) a few weeks ago I actually had it at a 100 yards at last light but It mooched off down a gully (gutting, as I could of actually shot it there and then but I decided too go to a wall instead of the bonnet!) So yesterday when we drove up and I look through the drivers window and see It sitting there not giving a care in the world 20 yards off the road I was obviously excited, we drove on turned and parked up.

As we did that the dreaded lorry turned the corner stopped exactly where the buck was and indicated for where we we turned into, obviously off it went.

I have no words - just disappointment and frustration, this buck Is laughing at me at this point! Its destined to live! If we dont shoot it next morning I'm over next week I'm thinking about leaving it until the rut and trying the Buttolo in the neighboring fields.

I'm fortunate I haven't had any walkers disturb us yet just cars usually.

 

[Norfolk Deer Search]

I’ve got 2

The first story I’ll tell is back in the keepiering days I went for an early morning stalker after a roe buck, it had been damaging some trees and the death warrant signed, so off I go bumbling away and then I see a mini bus at the bottom of the track and I’m like that shouldn’t be there so I got a bit closer and glassed with my binoculars and I saw that the windows are all steamed up, I’ve got a little closer looking at the rear window and all I saw was a pair of boobs and a pair of hands against the rear door window and a lovely pair they were too

so concerned for her safety, I walked up knocked on the door and said morning, everything alright?

They didn’t hang about much longer after that and I never saw them again

now the 2nd

The headkeeper and I were going to one of the Partridge pens and it was a fairly rough old track. I would say about 400 m long with some fairly hefty ruts in it, and at the bottom of said track there was a reasonably low slug BMW , how the bloody hell they got it there I do not know, so we rock up get out and we’re looking for dog walkers, then all of a sudden out of the maize 2 very burly gentlemen heavily tattooed, skinhead one wearing a tutu and the other a pair of boxer shorts who shall we say having fun in the maize you just couldn’t make it up, funnily enough they didn’t hang around very long either I never saw them again. They didn’t even come back to collect the exhaust. They left on the track as they left at high speed. I did put it at the end of the road for them.

 

[tarponhead]

Charlie and I stalked into what we thought was a fallow buck, couched up under a Large holly tree. The approach was difficult - gullies and fallen trees, but the thermal signature was still there as we got closer and closer. The shape was strange so we started to suspect it might be a sheep - near the stone wall with a field the other side. I could see what I thought was an ear twitching from time to time. Closer and closer we got. Charlie suggest I get on the sticks, but whilst we had a corridor through the brush for a shot, it still wasn’t clear which way round the beast was sitting. Minutes rolled by and we decided we’d flush it rather than shoot when we’re not sure, so we stopped being quiet and worked our way around and towards it.

It didn’t flush it just sat there but very still now, not moving. Then glassing it, we realised it was a little old man in a Mac, sat on a bucket with a .22lr, trying to hide in the bushes. He said he had permission to be there - he didn’t - and we saw him off politely, explaining that he could get himself shot if he acted like that in private woods.
I was led by the thermal and started to convince myself of what I could see - twitching ear was his coat lapel! It was last light in the wood so glassing it didn’t work, but prudence on our part did….

 

[Mungo]

Does being the interruption count?

 

[timbrayford]

It was the very first time that I went out on a deer stalk, it was on the Hamptworth Estate under the guidance of Fred Oxford. We'd been stalking the words near to Lyburn farm, when suddenly around a hundred spooked fallow ran across in front of us, caused it transpired by a trespassing hiker. It was just an old guy out for a walk in the woods, far from any right of way. Fred then engaged him in conversation about how dangerous it was to do so during stalking operations but the old man wouldn't have it, he insisted that if he'd have got himself shot he'd just sue the estate, and it didn't seem to occur to him that a bullet that will kill a deer will also kill him. Anyway, Fred was very tactful and politely directed him off the ground and later in the afternoon we caught up with the deer and I got my first one.

 

[sikamalc]

Quite a few over the years.
One that springs to mind was some years back when I ran a 14,000 acre lease in the highlands. It was probably one of the best areas I have had in the highlands. Plenty of Reds and Sika.

The day was a glorious day in the Stag season, the rut was well in. The client I had with me was called Chuck. As you will have guessed and American. A quite large man, who was a delight to be with and ran a big business helping young people into careers.
Walking was not an easy task for him, and by the time we had cleared the tree line out onto the open hill, he was struggling. The day was warm, and hardly a breath of wind, making stalking not as easy as one would have liked.

I could hear stags roaring further over the ridge. But there was nothing in sight at the time. Making our way slowly up a burn we eventually neared the top of the ridge, and decided to wait for a while to survey the area to our left, which had exposed a small gulley.
After a few minutes I spotted a small group of young batchelor stags walking slowly our way. There was one stag that was mature, but with a poor head, that could be culled out, and I pointed this out to the client.
We set ourselves up for the shot to be taken, although the range was a bit too far at the time, but the group were making their way slowly towards us.

As I said, there was hardly any wind,and in these conditions deer can often pick up the sound of you crawling though the heather. So we decided to stay put and wait on them walking nearer to us. After what seemed an age, the group were within a reasonable distance. However something had caught their attention.

Most of the group had their heads up looking up the hill. I thought maybe an Eagle coming over the ridge had caught their attention? But both me and the client, looked at each other as we could hear a strange noise.

I don't know if any one reading this has seen the film Zulu? In the film the Zulu warriors bang the back of their shields, which creates a weird sound like a train.

Well it was a sound similar to this. For the life of me I couldn't make out what the noise was. Over the top of the ridge was just open hill, running down to a small loch, then nothing almost down to the Kyle of Sutherland.
The noise we could hear became louder, with occasional stops, and then it would start again.
The group of stags we were waiting on became very nervous, and started to trot off along the face of the gully, and as the noise got slightly louder they decided enough was enough and legged it at full speed.
At almost the same time another small group of mature stags appeared over the horizon, almost on top of the other group.

To my surprise one of the larger stags had a huge white plastic bag wrapped around its antlers which was waving about and flapping as it ran. Needles to say this was where the noise had come from, and as they had seen the other group running, they decided to join them and the whole lot cleared the hill.

We didn't get a stag that morning, but the following morning we took a very nice stag early on, and one happy client.

 

[Chris Richardson]

I’ve got 2

The first story I’ll tell is back in the keepiering days I went for an early morning stalker after a roe buck, it had been damaging some trees and the death warrant signed, so off I go bumbling away and then I see a mini bus at the bottom of the track and I’m like that shouldn’t be there so I got a bit closer and glassed with my binoculars and I saw that the windows are all steamed up, I’ve got a little closer looking at the rear window and all I saw was a pair of boobs and a pair of hands against the rear door window and a lovely pair they were too

so concerned for her safety, I walked up knocked on the door and said morning, everything alright?

They didn’t hang about much longer after that and I never saw them again

now the 2nd

The headkeeper and I were going to one of the Partridge pens and it was a fairly rough old track. I would say about 400 m long with some fairly hefty ruts in it, and at the bottom of said track there was a reasonably low slug BMW , how the bloody hell they got it there I do not know, so we rock up get out and we’re looking for dog walkers, then all of a sudden out of the maize 2 very burly gentlemen heavily tattooed, skinhead one wearing a tutu and the other a pair of boxer shorts who shall we say having fun in the maize you just couldn’t make it up, funnily enough they didn’t hang around very long either I never saw them again. They didn’t even come back to collect the exhaust. They left on the track as they left at high speed. I did put it at the end of the road for them.

Any chance you’ve still got my exhaust?…..

 

[mudman]

All the way from Yorkshire to Norfolk by a kind invitation to stalk CWD. Morning drew a blank, only due to bad luck/ deer in wrong place for safe shot. Afternoon the gamekeeper takes me to a Hightower set in a big wood looking straight down a wide ride for at least 350 metres. Hazel coppice to left, mature oak to right, plenty of bramble. Perfect. Gamekeeper left me in situ with instructions to shoot whatever turned up, CWD, Muntjac, Roe.

It was mid winter so it turned to dusk quite soon, everything was screaming deer. Then at far end of the ride a bloke appears with a staffie and walks all the way down the ride towards me, finishes with a ‘got owt mate’ when he sees me high above him. Then carries on his way.


Needless to say it turns out no footpath, none for a long way. He was miles off piste.

 

[Oh6]

Lots of encounters and interruptions over the years:

• Out taking the dog for a walk round a Barley field. Two pigeons drop out of a tree as we approached, shot one, missed the second, to immediately have a couple in a state of undress appear in the aptly laid patch of barley just beyond the first tramline. They left with their picnic blanket at speed. For some reason they didn't bring the pigeon that dropped by them back for me, which I thought was very inconsiderate.
• Stalking into a roe buck along the edge of a wood, a hot air balloon snuck up behind me, the buck started looking at me, or so I thought. When they put the burner on, I jumped and the deer departed.
• Finding cars with misted up windows in the summer evenings is quite common, always say "Hi" on the way past....
• Tractors appearing and starting to plough in the field that I have been asked to shoot the deer in, as I am close to being able to take a shot, scattering the deer. Had much the same with hedge cutting as well.
• Various walkers lost or off piste. It is amusing how high they can jump if they haven't spotted you in a highseat or stood tight to the hedge, then wish them a good evening as they draw level.

 

[bullet chucker]

Middle of the Fallow rut, my experienced mate says I'll come and sit in the tree high seat with you, Plenty of grunting from a master buck every thing seems perfect as the evening approaches. Then I hear something and whisper to my pal who looks behind us to see a couple of blokes strolling up our field toward the sound of our rutting Buck. They passed the time of day to which my mate replied that's f*^"^ that up then?

BC.

 

[Donkey Basher]

Several instances of walkers not being where they were supposed to be

When a newbie I went out one summer evening with one of the other stalkers. We’d met in the yard & been given instructions where to go so knew who was going to be where. We were foot stalking initially with the plan to then end up in a double seat for the last part of the evening. After carefully stalking along a number of rides we were making our way down the last one towards the seat. It was clear from the munching noises that there was something in the cover ahead & to the right of me as I led the way so I edged forward as far as I dare then carefully put the sticks up & the rifle on them. Munching continued for a while then stopped before starting again much quieter, bugger, whatever it was had moved on so we moved on. Glassing down the last part of the ride to the highseat you’ll never guess but there was someone sat up it! We were certain we were in the right place & he was certain he was too as he congratulated me on the excellent stalk he’d just witnessed & told us that what we’d heard was a nice little Roe buck he’d seen but was too far away to shoot. Found out later that he was in the wrong seat but never mind

On another occasion, one of the estates keepers had been moaning about the damage the fallow were doing to his cover crops up on the top of the downs & how the bloody stalkers never touched them. In response a plan was hatched that involved a VERY early start one winter Sunday morning & would see three of us get around the edge of a big bowl that was used as an exit route for the fallow, with another three along the edge of an adjacent wood, two walkers who’d come through the wood at daylight & four others in ladders in the general area. We met in the yard, plans were all confirmed & we set off waaay before the magic hour so as to be in place when things kicked off. My place was right at the head of the bowl looking down into it from a bank above a farm track. It wasn’t easy getting in as vehicles had to be left a long way off & the walk in was treacherous as it’d snowed, thawed a bit, got rutted up by shoot vehicles the day before then frozen so slippery & noisy. Anyway I got to the spot & on the radio all the others were confirming they were in place too. One of the guys had NV & confirmed there were fallow in & around the maize & it wasn’t long before I could see them against the snow heading up the bowl - this pleased me immensely as the wind was bitter cold & I didn’t fancy hanging around much longer if there were no deer about. At about this time out of the corner of my eye I swore I saw a flash of light, like a car headlight, but decided I was imagining things. Then I saw it again, & again, & then it appeared longer then disappeared again - wtf!? anyone who was allowed up here knew we were out that morning so who the f’ was this? One headlight became two & then the sound of a quad carried over in the wind???? I looked down into the bowl & the fallow were legging it in the opposite direction now - bugger! A quick call on the radio to let the others know & hope they’d get one or two but it was still dark o’clock so not much hope really. Anyway, quad comes right up the track to within about 20 yards of where I’m sat tucked up in a thornbush in my ambush position, then stops. Engine still running the rider gets a thermos out, pours a drink, sits there drinking it before hopping off, opening the estate gate padlock, driving through, locking up behind them & then around the cover crops before down into the bowl & off through the woods. Yep, you can guess who it was… the same keeper who’d been moaning about the fallow & who knew we were going up that Sunday morning to put a big move on them! I’d love to have been a fly in the wall later that morning when the deer manager popped in to see him

 

[Spear Chucker]

I wasn't the rifle, but was with him, and the about-to-be step-son of the estate owner. Step son had been booted out of the house to join a stalking party. The exercise and fresh air would do him good apparently. 15 yrs old, he would rather have been anywhere else. Carted around grand houses by a recently unhitched mother, who was largely disinterested in him, but dragged him along while looking for suitable prey to latch on to. Our host being the latest and most suitable candidate, we happy few had the pleasure of baby sitting Dear George, while she was in the lodge trying to breed another.
The rifle was fizzing with excitement, he'd driven from Shropshire to Caithness, laid off the booze the night before, done his push-ups and donned his best tweed for the job. Conker bright booties and a regimental tie. He was a picture. We marched for miles. Up hill, down glen, heart in your mouth as you quarter across an unstable shale scree that threatens to send you 300 yards to the bottom of a corrie the moment you slip.
The Stag. Not a bad one either. Non-combatants placed in a hag and told to sit tight and quiet. Silence and tension for what seemed like hours. Surely he must fire soon?
Unseen, Step Son -feeling peckish- digs through his bag for some crisps from his piece. RUSTLE RUSTLE RUSTLE. POP! RUSTLE, CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH. PSHHHHHT goes the pop bottle followed by a burp that could have been heard in Ireland. A few minutes later the stalker and rifle appear, covered in peat and soaked from the crawl with eyes on stalks and faces changing colour like traffic lights.
"Now, Master George, I'll tell you when it's time fer yer bluidy piece!"
He probably doesn't know it, but he is lucky he isn't still in that hag.

 

[Camelfarm]

Not so much an interruption but an encounter:

My permission closest to me is next to a well known prep school and the resident teachers had taken to walking around the farm, despite no footpaths. One in particular had a dog off the lead a lot of the time which messed a few things up but that's not the story.

On this occassion about 2.5 years ago on a lovely bright and frosty morning I had mooched right up to the far end of the farm and shot a doe and follower. I had them both hung up on the fence for a contraversial gralloch...................... imagine the look of surprise on the faces of the 2 young and impressionable teachers who came around the corner of the copse to hear a cheerful "morning!" from the bloke carrying the gralloch down to the foxholes to dispose. The knife in my other hand must have made me look like Jason Voorhees minus the mask

 

[NoIDeer]

Cleared to stalk the wood with the beat keeper this wood has a building in it that is is photogenic and very popular with wedding parties authorised by the estate or not. I decided to have a lazy evening and sit in the high seat on a ride that looks up towards the building, down to the big house and on to a sunset if you are lucky, a lovely spot. Settled in for the wait for a munty or two, you guessed it the wedding party turns up muggins here sitting 80 yards from the scene under a big old oak tree. My choices were climb down wave and walk off, sit it out and hope I'm not seen or keep calm and carry on only shooting away from the wedding party. My stalk was cleared by the beat keeper who has the estate calender so this wedding was one of the unauthorised ones, right? I resolved to do the latter being a little naive. Thank whoever it is that a deer failed to turned up because after the stalk I stopped for pint, the same wedding party was really getting going including the man from the big house and his wife...

 

[Bavarianbrit]

Any chance you’ve still got my exhaust?…..

Were you being Desmond?

 

[anguscrombie]

Spent 5 hours looking for bucks the other evening with little luck. Finally found one at about 11.30 pm. Was about to pull the trigger when a couple from the only house for miles start having a blazing row. Mr buck jumps up and bolts barking his head off.

 

[griff]

Had an invite from Peter Watson to shoot a wood in Hertfordshire for Munties, it was an early morning start and a 100mph dash across country in his Scooby impreza. We arrived just at first light, there was a cross ride in this wood and we would sit back to back to cover all 4 rides, we had not been there ten minutes when Peter gave me a dig in the ribs, coming up the ride was a women with a group of dogs, she was dressed in a pink track suite and a bumbag, she was jogging along and then stopped, she took all her clothes off and put them in the bumbag and proceeded to jog towards us, she had not seen us at all but came to an abrupt halt when her dogs started barking at us. Morning was the comment from Peter, don't let us ruin your run, with a shrug of the shoulders she just jogged on by. I still have the smile on my face...

 

[sikamalc]

Another one springs to mind. About 12 years or so ago.

I was guiding a friend off this site Tikka 308, during the roe buck season. If I remember rightly it was an evening stalk on part of an estate that is now covered in houses. Built on an old tip !!
There were blue pipes coming out of the uneven ground to release the methane, I guess. It had been filled in some years ago, and at the end of the area was a copse of poplar trees, now sadly all gone.
I quite often saw Roe on here, so decided to have a look to see what was about. It was quiet when we entered the area, and after settling down to glass I noticed a couple walking across the far end of the area, with a dog off the lead. They were too far away to shout at, but we could clearly see them in the bino's.

The lady seemed to be a fairly upholstered women ( large) and they slowed to a halt in the field. Both me and Tikka looked at each other and the same thought crossed our minds, they were going to settle down for quick one. However without further a do, the man lifted up the womens top, dropped her boobs out and dived his head into them with a shake of the head. They were then put back into place and they carried on walking, without any knowledge of me and Tikka 308 being there.

Needless to say, not a sign of a buck, so we moved to another part of the estate.

 

[Ratel]

Whilst across the water in a mountainous area I was out stalking with a friend of mine.
We were crawling around a bowl to come in on a bundle of hinds,Sika and hybrids. We lay side by side just sorting which to shoot when a group of people crossed the peat hags about 400 yds away and the deer were off.
As the deer ran my fried fired a shot, it made me jump and panic when I saw which way his rifle pointed. The people stopped dead then started to run when his second shot sent peat into the air about 20 yards from them. That'll teach the f.......g ba....ds he said, I couldn't believe it. "Ahh don't worry "he said "they'll think it's the boys testing their guns".
I've never been so glad to get off the hill. It was at the time a bit of a hotbed area for Republican feeling and after that
I was never totally sure about my erstwhile friends feelings.

 

[Bavarianbrit]

Had an invite from Peter Watson to shoot a wood in Hertfordshire for Munties, it was an early morning start and a 100mph dash across country in his Scooby impreza. We arrived just at first light, there was a cross ride in this wood and we would sit back to back to cover all 4 rides, we had not been there ten minutes when Peter gave me a dig in the ribs, coming up the ride was a women with a group of dogs, she was dressed in a pink track suite and a bumbag, she was jogging along and then stopped, she took all her clothes off and put them in the bumbag and proceeded to jog towards us, she had not seen us at all but came to an abrupt halt when her dogs started barking at us. Morning was the comment from Peter, don't let us ruin your run, with a shrug of the shoulders she just jogged on by. I still have the smile on my face...

Peter Watson a 100mph dash across country in his Scooby impreza, oh naughty you have incriminated him.