Your Stalkers Diary. August 2006.

Where have our normal summers gone!

The rut was always more predictable than it is this year. We have seen plenty of activity of bucks chasing bucks in the covers but not many running with does. Not withstanding that we have had some of the best stalking ever with my guests getting more than their fair share of sport.

Freddi and Henri had three bucks with me in two days and five and a munti with Paul in Wilts in six sessions. A great evening stalk produced a medal buck deep in cover at last light. He had been doing considerable damage to the shrubs in some formal gardens of a large estate and none of the usual tricks would keep him out.

This week produced three bucks in four and a half sessions with Geert. The last I spied in woodland across a valley. No shot was on from where we were, so a slow approach down hill through fallen larch was on the cards. The wind was good and in our faces. Ten mins and 25 yards got us into a good stand only to see our buck get up and follow another roe out of sight.

I hoped that a steep climb uphill, trying to keep quiet, would put us on to the buck feeding in a field which had a good crop of long hay grass. This was not the case but just as we were about to move on, Geert spied movement 50m away under a holly tree, down hill on the edge of the wood.

The deer vanished and we went back to the woodland hoping to see them again. We looked back over the valley we had just climbed out of. We were rewarded a few minites later with our buck chasing his doe through thick tree and fern cover 100m away on the opposite slope. After what seemed an age of seeing half a deer always behind a tree or a fallen log we managed to identify our buck.

A good shot by Geert with my .243 at 80m claimed his buck. The time was 8.10pm. When we got home and filled out the game book, and it was strange to see that each of his bucks was shot at ten past eight either in the morning or evening. There could be a moral here but I am not sure what it could be!

Good stalking to you all.

Pete.
Diary Slideshow