The war on 1080

It appears anti-1080 lobby groups fears are being realised. Following a recent 1080 drop on the West Coast, seven Kea parrots died. A protected species, there are fewer than five thousand Kea’s left in the wild. There have also been recent reports of farmed Deer and domestic animals being poisoned. 1080 poison (or Sodium monofluoroacetate) is dropped in pellet form into New Zealand’s rugged backcountry to control the spread of pests. It works by stopping animals from producing energy from food. They then die from heart or respiratory failure. Whilst the Department of Conservation (DOC) have always defended the use of 1080, there is concern internally. A recent report published said: Aerial 1080 may well be a significant threat to the kea population with some drops probably devastating. There has been recent concern of the actions of 1080 protestors with an animal control officer’s dog being poisoned and 1080 poison being sent to some government agencies. This is an issue that seems to stir up a lot of emotion – on both sides of the coin. Many are concerned that the indiscriminate aerial drops of 1080 pose a major threat to our endemic fauna, not to mention the potential for poisoning the water supply and threatening our ‘clean green’ image.

deer on the tops

The steep climb over with, I was breathing hard,but was now on the backbone of the range heading South. There was plenty of snow about, witness to the fact with every step I was crunching ankle deep in frost encrusted snow.Looking west, where the chill wind origins lay, the menacing sky told a story. Heavy laden gunmettle grey clouds charging my way, by the second, enveloping features, rending them invisible. Twenty minutes further on , I was caught up in the swirling mists and sleet.

Pack off and salloppetes and crampons retrieved.........A tad further on after negotiating a steep ice clad slope, I decided to descend down the sheltered eastern side. Almost immediately I was now out of the wind and even the sleet had abated. Whiteness everywhere ,with occasional upthrusts of rock in shades of black and grey, overcast and drab skies, with intermittent blue patches, was the setting for the day.......Approaching a deep crease in the terrain, which turned out to be the birth of a creek, I followed the contour ever downward. Still high in the snow covered tussock and still some way from the bush edge, I spied movement.

Four deer were in the creek gut a couple of hundred yards below me. It was the usual story, one , no two, three and four picked out with patient use of the Leica's. They appeard to be feeding on the exposed tussock, that snow had recently slipped off, I guess it was the nearest to silage.......Using the snow for once to my advantage, with crampons facing down hill, and sitting, I commenced a controlled slide of around a 100yds undetected to the lip of the gut.

Pack off and Sako Vixen rifle rested atop, I picked up one of the spikers in the 4x scope. Range around the 100yd mark, cross hairs under control...squeeze....kabaalm thud. The .222 's report in the mountain vastness, was like a slap against skin in it's quietness, the thud of the 53 grn Barnes h.p. projectile hitting home seemed far louder. He was sick, still on his feet, but only just, he was going down. Before any suffering could kick in I did not hesitate, and planted another 53 grn., this time in his neck. He went down poleaxed.

I watched the remaining two hinds and spiker for sometime, [they can be seen in the picture, double click your mouse]barking and pacing around, looking for the source of danger, and wondering what had happened to their fallen mate. I did not move from my concealed position until the last of them had disappeared into the distant bush.

www.tripletui.co.nz

Idyllic getaway; Log cabins, mountain vistas and a river runinng through it........

Horn rot

Leaving the hut in darkness with only my Petzl headlamp as company to light the wasy, I trudged along the track breaking the thin crust of ice atop the snow with every footfall. It was bitterly cold as I meandered down the gentle incline towards the unseen but noisy river. My journey now aquainting me with my voiciferous neighbour, although we had different destinations and agendas. The way ahead for me was witchbum black and inspite of the channel of directed white light, I still would trip and stumble and bark my shins against unseen rocks and stumps.
As time progressed however the inky blackness of night was slowly replaced by the shadows and half light. So it was, when my watch registered a half hour of travel, the light had strengthned to the point where Mr. Petzl was thanked for his services and retired to the depths of my day pack. This coincided nicely with the end of my bush journey. There I squatted down and surveyed the options ahead. The tussock and scrub sided river stretched out a hundred or so yards ahead before taking a steep left hander out of sight, Large slips and screes savaged the upper bush on both sides rising up to steep rock formations. Immediately to my right spilled a sizeable creek which had a 30ft waterfall just visible from my position. It was this creek I decided to explore this day. Crossing the creek to the true right I battled the snow conditions to the bottom and to one side of the cascading water. The scrub and tight bush imposed it’s presence, leaving only a narrow soggy at first open climb, it quickly became more rocky and icy eventually leading me to sling my rifle on my back to leave my hands free.
I stood above the waterfall, somewhat shakily and a good deal warmer. I glanced ever upwards at the increasing steep sides of the creek towering above me. I was now roughly inline with the bush edge on both sides. The open country stretched before me, dressed in tan coloured tussock , hebes and assorted alpine plants that reached far up the slopes and ended in drab grey and black precipitous rock formations. Everything generously decorated with white snow and ice.
I left the confines of the creek, and contoured away to my left skirting the bush edge. I started to flounder in drifts. When not finding those, branches that I would brush again would reward me with a neck full of snow., Looking on the bright side though , I was generally feeling grateful of my knee length gaiters, I just wish I had a pair for my neck as well !!.
A chamois buck materialised trekking out of a depression high above. He was moving in a purposeful way conveying haste to me. The way ahead for him had perhaps fifty yards of open ground leading to a prominent ridge, once over that who knows. I threw my body to the ground and quickly sought his form in the glass ware. The animal continued to pick at this and that , whilst still on the move. I was in a position that could hardly be described as benchrest , being draped over one hebe and angling by body around another. The buck was within a few strides of the ridge, he then paused and looked straight down to me. The sights quartered his shoulders and I squeezed the light trigger....thud/kabalm...the animal looked as if he was picked up by some invisible force and slammed against the hill. A few minutes later his leg was seen to twitch twice.
The long climb up to the chamois was a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. His coat turned out to be a first class winter one, but when I turned him over, I was to find horn rot on his other side. I reached for my buck folder and proceeded to relieve him of his pelage. Too bad about the hooks, but skin and meat was still a good deal for me.

Ambush Foiled

.........The wind was now no more than a gentle zephyr, and sun had risen high enough to bathe me in it's rays. All this in just an hours sidle from where I had first emerged from the snow laden bush.

.........The neck and head of a chamois appeared on the skyline, just fifty yards above my position............The buck was pressing his female entourage forward, pretty hard, they were now a long way off, maybe six hundred yards or more, filing through a depression heading north............... The ambush was semi successful, in as much that I had halved the distance between us, and arrived there undetected. I was more or less opposite them, but I only had a fleeting moment for a shot, as they were moving quickly......kaboomph, the buck jumped a foot in the air, as dirt and rocks sprayed his underparts, I had not held high enough, mayhem !......

Man you have to admire their agility and ability to eat up the terrain in a hurry, when they are under threat.