A quick write up as Iāve a lot to do before heading to Scotland stalkng next Sunday.
Like many others, I was determined to watch the Roses hopefully triumph so I made a hasty foray into Wales first thing to check zero on 3 rifles and hopefully to decide which 2 Iām going to take with me to Scotland next weekend: my trusty .308 S20 with DS that has done at least 15 weeks on the hill in Scotland with great effect but itās dammed heavy; my replacement .270 Tikka which is superbly lightweight; or my super lightweight.308 Tikka in MDT HNT26 chassis. As usual, I ended up firing more rounds that Iād planned for but the MDT .308 was off - more of that shortly. What ****ed me off was that my 4ā Tomās target at 200 decided to part company after the second .270 round - WTF
Happy that all 3 were spot on, I headed home to watch the rugby. After that shaky start, what a match. More physical that Iād expected and yes, Hanna deserved that yellow card! Oh Ellie, that try - we were all expecting one like that given previous matches but oh what class
So there I was, sat in my stalking kit, car loaded, dogs in their waistcoats, rifle bagged by the door waiting for the final whistle. As the clock ticked down, the growing realisation that they had done it as Canada could not possibly score the points in the remaining time - eureka Well done ladies 
I drive North to my usual permissions - not enough time to do my normal routine so a quick look around the larger first before heading on to much smaller but very fruitful second. Pulling into the first, the late Alantooās widow is harvesting apples from the large tree that covers the driveway, ably assisted by a young couple I quickly discover are visiting from Canada - ooh, thatās going to be challenging
Turns out that are not into rugby so much sport lost 
The Teckel by now is in full on Apple retrieve mode and itās a toss up whether heād leave behind the never ending game of fetch or condescend to join me stalking. He finally tags along as I leave the cottage begrudgingly giving me the side-eye look
The ātourā takes barely half an hour - absolutely nothing. However, I see that the farmer has flailed every hedge into what looks like bomb damaged submission - there goes my cover as most of the ground is flat arable with only the hedges for cover 
I understand why he does it but it was so brutal - no finesse. It also explains why Iād seen nothing on the cottage trail cam as apparently heās been doing it for the last 3 evenings into darkness.
So off to the second. En route, I see the usual large herd of fallow have moved into the field the opposite side to the wooded valley Iām going to stalk. Too far to see exactly how many and their numbers as I negotiate the steep bends on the road but they are out and feeding - maybe St Hubert will smile upon me
I pull into the driveway and slowly park up. Grab the sticks and rifle leaving the dogs in the car, and make my way to my vantage point in a barn overlooking the steep wooded slope below the farmhouse. Nothing - bar pheasants - itās that time of the year again.
I get the dogs, walk across the lawn spotting that the farmer is watching TV, deciding not to speak then as Iād loose what little light I had. The vegetable patch is clear, as is the orchard and first small paddock bar rabbits and more bloody pheasants. I stalk into the main field bordering the wood. Itās empty. Slowly, I traverse the margin to the far corner, the limit of this stalk. A few rabbits and more dammed pheasants down the steep slope but nothing. I traverse back despondent having hoped for some opportunity to gain confidence with the post-range zeroād .308 - thatās stalking.
Then suddenly, in a chance sweep with the thermal I catch bits of a large heat source in the valley bottom that had been empty minutes before. I slowly move to the edge to get a better view, up on sticks and then shuffle to get a suitable path through the trees - eureka, a melanistic fallow buck. Now this buck and I, and indeed this rifle, have history! Heās about 50m from where I had first seen him just over a week ago. Couched at 80m I took a head-on head shot. The buck somersaulted backwards and ran off - WTF I slid down the slope. A clear heat signature on the ground from where heād been couched but no āpins and paintā. I work both dogs up and around the valley for an hour - no signs. The dogs had trails at some points but the ground was full of badger, muntjac and pheasant smells. I was concerned by the shot but the total absence of any strike gave me some confidence of a clean miss.
This evening, he wasnāt so lucky. A slightly oblique quartering chest shot from well above saw him run barely 20m before collapsing.
Then the fun begins
Heās about 400m down and about 20m off a long disused track that climbs the steep wooded hillside. The unfortunate things is that there were at least half a dozen substantial trees that had come down across that track and, despite having thought that it would be a good idea some time ago to clear the track, I hadnāt
What ensued thereafter was emotional and frankly for a man on the cusp of his 70ās, bloody knackering! All I can say is thank the proverbial for my investment in my capstan winch. Four separate pulls were required to get it up the track, over and under the fallen trees and up to the gateway where I normally gralloch. Epic and a clear failure of Rule No1: think about the extraction BEFORE you pull the trigger.
The amount of fat inside this animal was truly staggering- more than I have ever seen before in all my stalking. The neck too was bigger than many reds I have shot. A beautiful specimen but what then dawned upon me was that if this lone fallow buck had been pushed out by a more dominant and bigger buck, he must be a monster
Fat removed, gralloched and head and feet off, he was only 70 kg in the larder. Iāll recheck that today as I couldnāt even drag him in my Jet sled - Iāve had a 75 kg fallow buck last year but this seemed bigger.
The rest is history as they say and, after a beer whilst rewatching todayās match highlights, time for bed.
Back to what a āluckyā day this was, there in that gateway was a H4H bracelet Iād lost 3 months ago. They do say, things come in 3ās
Like many others, I was determined to watch the Roses hopefully triumph so I made a hasty foray into Wales first thing to check zero on 3 rifles and hopefully to decide which 2 Iām going to take with me to Scotland next weekend: my trusty .308 S20 with DS that has done at least 15 weeks on the hill in Scotland with great effect but itās dammed heavy; my replacement .270 Tikka which is superbly lightweight; or my super lightweight.308 Tikka in MDT HNT26 chassis. As usual, I ended up firing more rounds that Iād planned for but the MDT .308 was off - more of that shortly. What ****ed me off was that my 4ā Tomās target at 200 decided to part company after the second .270 round - WTF
Happy that all 3 were spot on, I headed home to watch the rugby. After that shaky start, what a match. More physical that Iād expected and yes, Hanna deserved that yellow card! Oh Ellie, that try - we were all expecting one like that given previous matches but oh what class
So there I was, sat in my stalking kit, car loaded, dogs in their waistcoats, rifle bagged by the door waiting for the final whistle. As the clock ticked down, the growing realisation that they had done it as Canada could not possibly score the points in the remaining time - eureka Well done ladies I drive North to my usual permissions - not enough time to do my normal routine so a quick look around the larger first before heading on to much smaller but very fruitful second. Pulling into the first, the late Alantooās widow is harvesting apples from the large tree that covers the driveway, ably assisted by a young couple I quickly discover are visiting from Canada - ooh, thatās going to be challenging
Turns out that are not into rugby so much sport lost The Teckel by now is in full on Apple retrieve mode and itās a toss up whether heād leave behind the never ending game of fetch or condescend to join me stalking. He finally tags along as I leave the cottage begrudgingly giving me the side-eye look
The ātourā takes barely half an hour - absolutely nothing. However, I see that the farmer has flailed every hedge into what looks like bomb damaged submission - there goes my cover as most of the ground is flat arable with only the hedges for cover I understand why he does it but it was so brutal - no finesse. It also explains why Iād seen nothing on the cottage trail cam as apparently heās been doing it for the last 3 evenings into darkness.So off to the second. En route, I see the usual large herd of fallow have moved into the field the opposite side to the wooded valley Iām going to stalk. Too far to see exactly how many and their numbers as I negotiate the steep bends on the road but they are out and feeding - maybe St Hubert will smile upon me
I pull into the driveway and slowly park up. Grab the sticks and rifle leaving the dogs in the car, and make my way to my vantage point in a barn overlooking the steep wooded slope below the farmhouse. Nothing - bar pheasants - itās that time of the year again.
I get the dogs, walk across the lawn spotting that the farmer is watching TV, deciding not to speak then as Iād loose what little light I had. The vegetable patch is clear, as is the orchard and first small paddock bar rabbits and more bloody pheasants. I stalk into the main field bordering the wood. Itās empty. Slowly, I traverse the margin to the far corner, the limit of this stalk. A few rabbits and more dammed pheasants down the steep slope but nothing. I traverse back despondent having hoped for some opportunity to gain confidence with the post-range zeroād .308 - thatās stalking.
Then suddenly, in a chance sweep with the thermal I catch bits of a large heat source in the valley bottom that had been empty minutes before. I slowly move to the edge to get a better view, up on sticks and then shuffle to get a suitable path through the trees - eureka, a melanistic fallow buck. Now this buck and I, and indeed this rifle, have history! Heās about 50m from where I had first seen him just over a week ago. Couched at 80m I took a head-on head shot. The buck somersaulted backwards and ran off - WTF
I slid down the slope. A clear heat signature on the ground from where heād been couched but no āpins and paintā. I work both dogs up and around the valley for an hour - no signs. The dogs had trails at some points but the ground was full of badger, muntjac and pheasant smells. I was concerned by the shot but the total absence of any strike gave me some confidence of a clean miss.This evening, he wasnāt so lucky. A slightly oblique quartering chest shot from well above saw him run barely 20m before collapsing.
Then the fun begins
Heās about 400m down and about 20m off a long disused track that climbs the steep wooded hillside. The unfortunate things is that there were at least half a dozen substantial trees that had come down across that track and, despite having thought that it would be a good idea some time ago to clear the track, I hadnāt What ensued thereafter was emotional and frankly for a man on the cusp of his 70ās, bloody knackering! All I can say is thank the proverbial for my investment in my capstan winch. Four separate pulls were required to get it up the track, over and under the fallen trees and up to the gateway where I normally gralloch. Epic and a clear failure of Rule No1: think about the extraction BEFORE you pull the trigger.
The amount of fat inside this animal was truly staggering- more than I have ever seen before in all my stalking. The neck too was bigger than many reds I have shot. A beautiful specimen but what then dawned upon me was that if this lone fallow buck had been pushed out by a more dominant and bigger buck, he must be a monster
Fat removed, gralloched and head and feet off, he was only 70 kg in the larder. Iāll recheck that today as I couldnāt even drag him in my Jet sled - Iāve had a 75 kg fallow buck last year but this seemed bigger.
The rest is history as they say and, after a beer whilst rewatching todayās match highlights, time for bed.
Back to what a āluckyā day this was, there in that gateway was a H4H bracelet Iād lost 3 months ago. They do say, things come in 3ās
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, I have a couple of spots when the deer are facing the "wrong direction" as in deep ditch/jungle or the thick swampy bit so they get a pass. I say to my self it is a long season so just wait until next time while grinding my back teeth lol.
![20250925_200610[1].webp](https://www.thestalkingdirectory.co.uk/data/attachments/392/392314-a4cfe596a08d2a41451b9dd76564bf78.jpg?hash=v2V68-BVEE "20250925_200610[1].webp")
I did shot four at one sitting last year (another ground) but as 2 singles then a pair. I don't want to do that too often - I'm too old 
