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Thread: Your most treasured memory.

  1. #1

    Your most treasured memory.

    Those of you that have a few years stalking under your belts, can you take a trip down memory lane and share a memorable stalk/event and some photos (if possible) with the less experienced members.

  2. #2
    My most memorable stalk!

    It was with my new stalking partner.

    My partner was very new to the game and asked me to choose some suitable yet fashionable camouflage attire from an exclusive range.

    I chose what I thought what was appropriate. What do you think?

    Comments Please.


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    We had known each other since agricultural college and had shot most of what these isles had to offer. My friend however had never shot a red on the hill, nor yet had a go at ptarmigan. We decided to remedy this and booked a few days on an estate in the Monadliaths – a place where I had shot my first beast some years before.

    After an excellent few days, all recorded on video by the third member of our ‘gang’, we shot our final beast and as it was only a mile or so to the hill gate we walked off the hill. At the gate we turned and took a long look back at that magical place, already planning our next visit.

    The next year I had to decline due to pressure of work and little was I know that there would never be another chance to hunt together. Our friend was tragically killed in a senseless motorcycle accident the following summer.

    So, his first beast and that walk off the hill are some of my most treasured memories.


  5. #5
    Well steyr.308
    I would say you have over dressed her a little i personally would of had her up the high seat in something a little less

  6. #6
    A glorious summer's day in Devon. Lying on my side in the middle of a pasture - 'barking' at a young Roe Buck who seemed to have no fear.

    Circling me while barking, all the while closing the distance until we were only ten feet apart.

    This little interchange went on for fifteen minutes, until I eventually got up and walked away...... meanwhile, Bucky had run twenty feet, stopped and triumphantly barked as he watched me receed into the distance.

    Yes, I had a rifle - no, I didn't shoot him.

    Sometimes, stalking isn't all about squeezing the trigger! Just being out can be enough!

    Rgds Ian

  7. #7
    SD Regular willie_gunn's Avatar
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    Aug 2008
    Oxfordshire, Wiltshire, Berkshire....and Sutherland
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    Going into the woods with my stalking mate during the rut. Going to sit down by a tree and accidentally sitting on the Buttolo call in the process. In the middle of a fit of the giggles looking up to see a buck come crashing through the bushes only to pull up only 2 or so metres away. Don't know who was more surprised/astonished - him or me!

    Another time, with the same mate, walking down the road to go into the wood and seeing what looked like a very large rabbit in the field next door, only for it to bound away as I realised it was a wallaby. An hour or so later on a creepy-crawly, silent-as-possible stalk, only for the self same wallaby to come crashing through the woods and come straight past me. I took the hint and quit stalking that morning.

    And all this in Berkshire!


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    Waiting in the woods for a fallow buck.The big black one ive mentioned in another post.When out of the woods into the ride walked a doe followed by 11 more including young. They all walked within id say 15 ft of me.

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    Had a great stalk round the wood came home and found the wife had buggered off with an Italian. Best stalking day of my life

  10. #10
    I was answering a call of nature, we were in a forestry plantation, one of the ploughed ones, the trees were well grown and I was about 15 or 20 feet along one of the furrows. Coat hanging on a tree, rifle leaning against another, you get the picture. Anyway just as I had got in position I heard the sound of a shot and thought my mate was a lucky sod. Although he was about 600 yards away from as the crow flies, he was about three quarters of mile away on the forestry track. I then heard the thundering of hooves and laboured breathing and a bloody Sika stag, wounded, came crashing along a furrow about ten or so away from me. It certainly hurried things along!

    Some people make do with reading a paper!

    Before anyone asks it was found dead.


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