Ninth Stalk Diary – 21st July 2020
Well, I never expected to be writing another stalk diary but here we are and I can’t tell you how glad I am. A few weeks short of four years since my last stalk diary and three and a half since I had to surrender my firearms. Why? Because despite the wholesale discrediting of ME (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) having a psychological basis, remnants of the medical profession, including national ‘treatment’ directives state, that psychological treatment must be undertaken for a patient to have undertaken all possible ‘treatment’ measures (too many careers and £ rest on continuation of the lie, no matter the cost to the poor individuals unfortunate enough to succumb to the illness). As a result, I’m sure it will be appreciated just how uphill a task I face with getting my licences back.
Adding insult to injury, the psych’s systematically dismantled the entire coping, management and recovery mechanism I had painstakingly and costly built over three hard years, resulting in 4-stone weight gain in as many months and deterioration in my condition to the worst state in the (then) four years I had been sick. I was in such a state by the end (I couldn’t refuse or we would have lost the permanent health insurance on which my family are now dependent, for “refusing treatment”), it has taken me three further long years just to be able to start over from scratch. ME (CFS) and Psychiatrists are truly two words that should never be heard in the same ‘sentence’ (double entendre wholly meant)! I am however pleased to say that having started the keto diet three months ago, three of the five stone put on have already gone and I’ve been able to very carefully and slowly start cycling again. Just as I found before, as the fitness is increasing, I am once again starting to be able to do a little more than just exercise and rest.
Anyhow, since my father passed last October, our farmer family friend and I have taken over their weekly telephone call. A few weeks back, he shared that “there were deer everywhere”. Having a good friend, we’ll call “John Doe” in the position of having his licences and guns but no permissions, it seemed churlish not to make the most of a shared opportunity for an outing. The small interim challenge; how to get John’s rifle zeroed prior, since I wouldn’t abuse my friendship with the farmer by putting him in the awkward permission of asking to give John written permission to attend without me, having not yet even met him and I unfortunately wouldn’t manage two outings in as many weeks given an hour and a half drive from home in Wiltshire. Thankfully my (previous) FEO still as helpful as ever, kindly confirmed that so long as John had the farmers verbal consent, full written permission (although preferred), was not absolutely required as far as the law is concerned. The farmer was happy with that so John popped down last week and successfully zeroed and it seems, quite hitting it off with the farmer, discovering by amazing coincidence that he was helping the farmer’s cousin out with some Pigeon control elsewhere in Oxfordshire, given sharing his academic course with his cousins son – who say’s it’s not a small world!
This morning, the chosen date given favourable almost non-existent wind, the alarm went at 02:30. Adrenaline and excitement quickly overcame the sleepiness and collecting John on the way, we arrived just after first light at 04:30. Quickly and quietly gearing up, I briefed John on my proposed approach to the stalk (John far more experienced than me but not knowing the ground) and we set off. The land being very flat, bisected by a footpath and having roads on three sides of a ~4-square miles (but with a high railway embankment on the fourth side), shot safety is of paramount consideration and necessitates careful route planning. Briefing from the farmer that since lockdown the public have also been ignoring the footpath and walking all over his land, the first light start was felt even more important.
We quickly but quietly made our way down a farm track and across the large field before the prime Roe area, a distance of about 1km. We then flicked over into full stalk mode and made our way slowly and deliberately down the hedgeline running parallel to the railway embankment, pausing often to glass for signs of Roe. Seeing nothing, we crossed the stile on the footpath and made our way through the wide hedge and into the field where I had shot three lovely bucks on my first solo outing. Nothing showing and the foliage having irritatingly grown over the helpful gap in the hedge to the next field, through which I’d shot two Roe on two previous outing, we heard something rustling in the adjacent small copse. We paused and I tried a few squeaks on the Buttolo but nothing appeared, and I considered what to do next. Now moving beyond where I’d ever previously had to venture without a successful ending to the stalk, I explained such to John in hushed voice and that it was now over to following pure instinct. We consequently moved to the end of the field and kitten crawled under the barbed wire fence, over another gate and into a small field with an old pheasant enclosure. Despite moving so slowly, we disturbed a Doe about 80-yards away in the next field. Irritating, but at least our first sighting of deer. Reaching the next gate to the biggest field where John had zeroed the previous week, I sent him over the gate first. By the time I crossed the gate he whispered that there was a Doe just down the hedgeline. I crept up to his side and got my first glimpse of the Doe grazing 20-yards or so from the edge of the field but some 150+ yards away. John crept forward a few paces and setup on the sticks while we waited. A few minutes later we were duly rewarded with a clearly following Buck popping out the hedgerow to join her. John clearly wasn’t happy with the shot and we waited a few minutes while they grazed. I then whispered suggesting we try and call the Doe in a little closer. A squeak from the Buttolo and she bolted upright looking straight in our direction but not moving. A few more squeaks and she started to run with the Buck chasing her. A double squeak and she stopped again. This continued for several minutes, the Doe clearly wanting to come closer, but also sensing something was not right. The Buck had zero interest in anything other than the occasional chasing of the Doe interspersed with his grazing.
By now I was leaving matters to John to lead and decide next steps. Clearly feeling the shot was still too far off sticks he started to very slowly make his way across the field towards them.
Letting John get a good 10-yards in front, I settled behind him with just a small sideways gap to capture both him and Roe in the same shot. I was also very pleased to learn afterwards, that the ‘silent’ shutter drive mode had meant that John hadn’t even heard me taking pictures so the Roe clearly wouldn’t either.
Very soon the Doe ran off through the hedge behind leaving the Buck happily grazing away, just occasionally raising his head to check around. At these points, John would pause and wait for him to go back to grazing before inching ever closer.
My own instincts kicked in and I shouted a short sharp “Oooiiiiyyyy”. As hoped, the Buck abruptly stopped and John didn’t need any further encouragement, squeezing off his shot. Despite expecting and waiting for the shot, amusingly I still jumped, so hope you’ll forgive the slightly ‘off’ resulting photo.
../.. to be continued.
Well, I never expected to be writing another stalk diary but here we are and I can’t tell you how glad I am. A few weeks short of four years since my last stalk diary and three and a half since I had to surrender my firearms. Why? Because despite the wholesale discrediting of ME (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) having a psychological basis, remnants of the medical profession, including national ‘treatment’ directives state, that psychological treatment must be undertaken for a patient to have undertaken all possible ‘treatment’ measures (too many careers and £ rest on continuation of the lie, no matter the cost to the poor individuals unfortunate enough to succumb to the illness). As a result, I’m sure it will be appreciated just how uphill a task I face with getting my licences back.
Adding insult to injury, the psych’s systematically dismantled the entire coping, management and recovery mechanism I had painstakingly and costly built over three hard years, resulting in 4-stone weight gain in as many months and deterioration in my condition to the worst state in the (then) four years I had been sick. I was in such a state by the end (I couldn’t refuse or we would have lost the permanent health insurance on which my family are now dependent, for “refusing treatment”), it has taken me three further long years just to be able to start over from scratch. ME (CFS) and Psychiatrists are truly two words that should never be heard in the same ‘sentence’ (double entendre wholly meant)! I am however pleased to say that having started the keto diet three months ago, three of the five stone put on have already gone and I’ve been able to very carefully and slowly start cycling again. Just as I found before, as the fitness is increasing, I am once again starting to be able to do a little more than just exercise and rest.
Anyhow, since my father passed last October, our farmer family friend and I have taken over their weekly telephone call. A few weeks back, he shared that “there were deer everywhere”. Having a good friend, we’ll call “John Doe” in the position of having his licences and guns but no permissions, it seemed churlish not to make the most of a shared opportunity for an outing. The small interim challenge; how to get John’s rifle zeroed prior, since I wouldn’t abuse my friendship with the farmer by putting him in the awkward permission of asking to give John written permission to attend without me, having not yet even met him and I unfortunately wouldn’t manage two outings in as many weeks given an hour and a half drive from home in Wiltshire. Thankfully my (previous) FEO still as helpful as ever, kindly confirmed that so long as John had the farmers verbal consent, full written permission (although preferred), was not absolutely required as far as the law is concerned. The farmer was happy with that so John popped down last week and successfully zeroed and it seems, quite hitting it off with the farmer, discovering by amazing coincidence that he was helping the farmer’s cousin out with some Pigeon control elsewhere in Oxfordshire, given sharing his academic course with his cousins son – who say’s it’s not a small world!
This morning, the chosen date given favourable almost non-existent wind, the alarm went at 02:30. Adrenaline and excitement quickly overcame the sleepiness and collecting John on the way, we arrived just after first light at 04:30. Quickly and quietly gearing up, I briefed John on my proposed approach to the stalk (John far more experienced than me but not knowing the ground) and we set off. The land being very flat, bisected by a footpath and having roads on three sides of a ~4-square miles (but with a high railway embankment on the fourth side), shot safety is of paramount consideration and necessitates careful route planning. Briefing from the farmer that since lockdown the public have also been ignoring the footpath and walking all over his land, the first light start was felt even more important.
We quickly but quietly made our way down a farm track and across the large field before the prime Roe area, a distance of about 1km. We then flicked over into full stalk mode and made our way slowly and deliberately down the hedgeline running parallel to the railway embankment, pausing often to glass for signs of Roe. Seeing nothing, we crossed the stile on the footpath and made our way through the wide hedge and into the field where I had shot three lovely bucks on my first solo outing. Nothing showing and the foliage having irritatingly grown over the helpful gap in the hedge to the next field, through which I’d shot two Roe on two previous outing, we heard something rustling in the adjacent small copse. We paused and I tried a few squeaks on the Buttolo but nothing appeared, and I considered what to do next. Now moving beyond where I’d ever previously had to venture without a successful ending to the stalk, I explained such to John in hushed voice and that it was now over to following pure instinct. We consequently moved to the end of the field and kitten crawled under the barbed wire fence, over another gate and into a small field with an old pheasant enclosure. Despite moving so slowly, we disturbed a Doe about 80-yards away in the next field. Irritating, but at least our first sighting of deer. Reaching the next gate to the biggest field where John had zeroed the previous week, I sent him over the gate first. By the time I crossed the gate he whispered that there was a Doe just down the hedgeline. I crept up to his side and got my first glimpse of the Doe grazing 20-yards or so from the edge of the field but some 150+ yards away. John crept forward a few paces and setup on the sticks while we waited. A few minutes later we were duly rewarded with a clearly following Buck popping out the hedgerow to join her. John clearly wasn’t happy with the shot and we waited a few minutes while they grazed. I then whispered suggesting we try and call the Doe in a little closer. A squeak from the Buttolo and she bolted upright looking straight in our direction but not moving. A few more squeaks and she started to run with the Buck chasing her. A double squeak and she stopped again. This continued for several minutes, the Doe clearly wanting to come closer, but also sensing something was not right. The Buck had zero interest in anything other than the occasional chasing of the Doe interspersed with his grazing.
By now I was leaving matters to John to lead and decide next steps. Clearly feeling the shot was still too far off sticks he started to very slowly make his way across the field towards them.
Photography now a keen interest as one of the few things I can periodically undertake, I had long fancied recording a stalk. Equally, I almost hadn’t brought the camera given the pressure of guiding someone for the first time and fearing the effect of travelling even just a couple of miles with heavy camera and lens. However, I simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity and changed my mind at the last minute. For any fellow ‘tog’, I was shooting a Canon 5DIV with 70-200mm f2.8 IS L III. I shot in manual at f2.8, 1/250 or 1/500 and Auto ISO, delivering between ISO 100 and ISO 1000.Letting John get a good 10-yards in front, I settled behind him with just a small sideways gap to capture both him and Roe in the same shot. I was also very pleased to learn afterwards, that the ‘silent’ shutter drive mode had meant that John hadn’t even heard me taking pictures so the Roe clearly wouldn’t either.
Very soon the Doe ran off through the hedge behind leaving the Buck happily grazing away, just occasionally raising his head to check around. At these points, John would pause and wait for him to go back to grazing before inching ever closer.
Reaching somewhere between 80 and 100 yards, John gingerly setup the sticks. That was enough to send the Buck rapidly towards the hedgeline before John could take his shot.My own instincts kicked in and I shouted a short sharp “Oooiiiiyyyy”. As hoped, the Buck abruptly stopped and John didn’t need any further encouragement, squeezing off his shot. Despite expecting and waiting for the shot, amusingly I still jumped, so hope you’ll forgive the slightly ‘off’ resulting photo.
../.. to be continued.
