The rain came in hard over night, the time of abatement according to the MetOffice kept getting pushed right as I checked worriedly throughout the evening. This could seriously jeopardise the planned for first light launch onto the stalking ground.
No deer has been shot from a warm bed though, so better to be up and out, I can just sit in the truck and wait for the rain to peter out. 0530, quick coffee, met check (no change - 80% precipitation decreasing to 60% by 0800), kit check and I'm off by 0600. By the time I get to the stalking ground, it's still raining, so I read the news, prep the kit as far as possible and wait till its 'clear' by 0730 and then launch out.
I've got a mind on a woodblock that's holding some Roe and Muntjac, my approach from the NW with a westerly lets me drop onto the woodblock from about 200m away. I scan the ground, the clear air still slightly darkend by the overhanging clouds. I can make out two Muntjac about 500m away to my east, but they're in the open and I'm pretty sure I'll wind them with the westerly.
I knuckle down to the woodblock infront of me. It curves around to the east, so use the distance to my advantage, scanning, searching and probing the edge of the woodline with my binos. I keep pressing round to the east, staying between 100-200m to the north and using scant cover to disguise my progress.
I round the eastern edge of the woodblock and see a trio of Roe. A quick ID parade reveals a mature doe and 2 kids, one buck, one doe. Not wanting to orphan the kids, I pass up the opportunity and keep pressing on, hoping to locate a maiden.
Off to my right, in the gorse and brambles, a Muntjac buck and doe are scurrying about like late passengers rushing to catch a flight. I just can't get a bead on them, there's too much bramble and grass, every angle presents a stick shot. So I leave them to their worried ways.
The heavy overnight rain has left everyone cold and hungry, so there are deer seen in small clumps to my south, just outside woodblocks and in the lee of the wind, quietly filling up on the soft sweet grasses. No way to get into them as it's a good 400m of open grassland.
I reassess the situation and decide to stalk into the woodblock next to me, selecting a grassy ride. Move, scan, move scan. Over and over.
The stealth pays off - a Roe doe and mature buck are snacking on some grasses between the wheel ruts about 100m away. I slowly take a knee and keep observing. I can't make out any more deer than the breakfasting couple. The Buck slowly feeds off the track to the right and away. I get the rifle set up on the sticks in the kneeling position, slowly and carefully mask the lens caps' 'pop' with my gloves as I open them.
The doe obstinately keeps her profile head on to me.
'Turn!' I will her in my head. But she stays head on. Suddenly, she bounds off to the right.
Aaaaahhh, I think, game over. But I persist, and pick up rifle and sticks and stealthily side shuffle/crab (in my mind, I'm a high speed stealth operator, if anyone was watching me, it would proba ly looked like I'd had an accident in my trousers!) into the wood to my right, hoping to ambush the doe if she moves up.
Bingo! Nope... that's the buck, and he's actually quite obscured. Then I spot her, moving behind him, but closer to me. I line up a clear avenue for a shot, readjust the sticks and shuffle in the muddy leaf litter on my knees, as silently as possible.
The doe is alert and looks directly at me, her eyes seeming to pierce my soul. I look away, hoping to avoid her sixth sense telling her that 'something is watching her'. I look back up after what seems like an age and she's moved forward, feeding.
Nearly... nearly... nearly... Now! She steps into a clear pathway and with the buck safely about 10m to her front/my right as I look at her, I slowly squeeze the trigger.
It's over in an instant, she drops to the shot, the buck drops his clutch and wheel spins away into the distance. The wood seems to reverberate with the sudden bang, after the peaceful quiet. I reload quickly and make sure she is no longer moving from where she dropped.
A memorable Sunday stalk, for all the right reasons. On the way back to the truck, I keep reminding myself how lucky we are to be able to do this and what a wonderful place the outdoors is.
No deer has been shot from a warm bed though, so better to be up and out, I can just sit in the truck and wait for the rain to peter out. 0530, quick coffee, met check (no change - 80% precipitation decreasing to 60% by 0800), kit check and I'm off by 0600. By the time I get to the stalking ground, it's still raining, so I read the news, prep the kit as far as possible and wait till its 'clear' by 0730 and then launch out.
I've got a mind on a woodblock that's holding some Roe and Muntjac, my approach from the NW with a westerly lets me drop onto the woodblock from about 200m away. I scan the ground, the clear air still slightly darkend by the overhanging clouds. I can make out two Muntjac about 500m away to my east, but they're in the open and I'm pretty sure I'll wind them with the westerly.
I knuckle down to the woodblock infront of me. It curves around to the east, so use the distance to my advantage, scanning, searching and probing the edge of the woodline with my binos. I keep pressing round to the east, staying between 100-200m to the north and using scant cover to disguise my progress.
I round the eastern edge of the woodblock and see a trio of Roe. A quick ID parade reveals a mature doe and 2 kids, one buck, one doe. Not wanting to orphan the kids, I pass up the opportunity and keep pressing on, hoping to locate a maiden.
Off to my right, in the gorse and brambles, a Muntjac buck and doe are scurrying about like late passengers rushing to catch a flight. I just can't get a bead on them, there's too much bramble and grass, every angle presents a stick shot. So I leave them to their worried ways.
The heavy overnight rain has left everyone cold and hungry, so there are deer seen in small clumps to my south, just outside woodblocks and in the lee of the wind, quietly filling up on the soft sweet grasses. No way to get into them as it's a good 400m of open grassland.
I reassess the situation and decide to stalk into the woodblock next to me, selecting a grassy ride. Move, scan, move scan. Over and over.
The stealth pays off - a Roe doe and mature buck are snacking on some grasses between the wheel ruts about 100m away. I slowly take a knee and keep observing. I can't make out any more deer than the breakfasting couple. The Buck slowly feeds off the track to the right and away. I get the rifle set up on the sticks in the kneeling position, slowly and carefully mask the lens caps' 'pop' with my gloves as I open them.
The doe obstinately keeps her profile head on to me.
'Turn!' I will her in my head. But she stays head on. Suddenly, she bounds off to the right.
Aaaaahhh, I think, game over. But I persist, and pick up rifle and sticks and stealthily side shuffle/crab (in my mind, I'm a high speed stealth operator, if anyone was watching me, it would proba ly looked like I'd had an accident in my trousers!) into the wood to my right, hoping to ambush the doe if she moves up.
Bingo! Nope... that's the buck, and he's actually quite obscured. Then I spot her, moving behind him, but closer to me. I line up a clear avenue for a shot, readjust the sticks and shuffle in the muddy leaf litter on my knees, as silently as possible.
The doe is alert and looks directly at me, her eyes seeming to pierce my soul. I look away, hoping to avoid her sixth sense telling her that 'something is watching her'. I look back up after what seems like an age and she's moved forward, feeding.
Nearly... nearly... nearly... Now! She steps into a clear pathway and with the buck safely about 10m to her front/my right as I look at her, I slowly squeeze the trigger.
It's over in an instant, she drops to the shot, the buck drops his clutch and wheel spins away into the distance. The wood seems to reverberate with the sudden bang, after the peaceful quiet. I reload quickly and make sure she is no longer moving from where she dropped.
A memorable Sunday stalk, for all the right reasons. On the way back to the truck, I keep reminding myself how lucky we are to be able to do this and what a wonderful place the outdoors is.
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