Day 3 - 7 Species in 3 days - Shooting the Scottish Highland's

After spending 2 weeks touring Scotland earlier in the year, I was over the moon when Alex invited me up to hunt the Scottish Highlands at the end of December. Days one and two had been amazing, and I was lucky enough to have shot several new species.

Day 3 dawned and it seemed like the Scottish winter had finally turned up! We returned to Red Castle, where this amazing trip had began. Today we were doing a straight walked up day, with the odd fixed gun when needed. On went the jacket and leggings, then it was off to do the first block. The first beat saw several pheasants flushed, and one shot. It was a pretty good start to the morning and it told us the pheasants were happy to fly in the torrential rain. On the way to the second beat, I saw a great mob of Roe Deer, and it was nice to watch them bounce their way up the hill side. On arrival at the second beat, we all picked a beating line, and off we went. We hadn't been going more than 45 seconds when a bird flushed just meters in front of me. By this time, after three days of solid shooting, and being well in tune with the side by side, I patterned it very quickly. I took the gun off my shoulder, when another bird flushed off the right. It was chased by shots, and it passed in front of me at about 45 meters. Having just the one cartridge in the gun, I took my time, swung through the bird, and cleanly dropped that as well. It wasn't until  the retrievers picked them up and the birds were placed in my hands, did it sink in that I had shot the one bird that I'd hoped to get, and that I had missed on day one. I had my self a woodcock, and not only that, but I'd shot a left and a right!

I was aware of the existence of the 'Woodcock Club', and Alex had a lot of fun pointing out that I had in fact not met the criteria of the club. While I had bagged two woodcock with a left and a right, there was one tiny condition that I failed to meet - 'that a gun must not be lowered between shots'. Well, its hard to be disappointed, when you have just shot one of the most sort after trophy birds in the UK, and I certainly wasn't! But I did vow to start a new 'off the shoulder woodcock club'! Not long after that, another woodcock flushed in front of me, and I chose to leave it for another shooter, as it was crossing, but no shots followed it, so when another woodcock crossed in front, chased by shots by Alex, I raised the side by side, and when it was in front of me, squeezed the trigger. I had my third woodcock in 3 shots!

After that drive, I told Alex and the rest of the guys that I had shot my share, and told them I was happy to beat, or to be put in the less likely places. On the next two drives, I enjoyed watching the lads drop 3 pheasants, but due to the rain, I didn't get my Camera out. The last two drives of the day fast approached, and we headed out to a little patch of wood. Alex told me to head out into a cut barley field, about 20 meters away from the cover, so that if anything escaped the guys in the wood, I could cut it down. As luck would have it, to everyone's surprise, there were no pheasants in the wood...but I did flush one out in that field.
All the dogs were working the wood, but as I was about to literally step on this cock bird, it flushed. One barrel was all that was needed, and I added that to the days bag. I walked sheepishly over to the guys who all had smiles on their faces. While they appreciated that I had offered to walk the less likely lines, they were still thrilled that it was their guest who bagged another bird. What a great bunch of guys.

The last wood was on everyone's mind. Alex had been saying all day that he reckoned that's where the birds would be. He decided that the way to hunt this wood was to set guns on the far side, and then drive the birds out towards them. they had to climb quite high to escape, so it looked like the shooting would be very good. I was left to cover the rear, on the off chance that the beaters - led by Alex had birds flush after they had passed, and the guys that hadn't had much shooting went to the other side as standing guns. I had a great time watching pheasants getting shot at about 60 meters in the air. I was almost surprised when a Hen flew back out my side, having evaded the beaters and dogs. I waited for it to clear the wood, so that I had a clear backdrop for my shot, then dropped it. Seconds later, a Cock bird flushed, but this one evaded all of us.

The last drive brought us 5 pheasants, and it was a great way to finish up another successful day at Red Castle. I was sad to be leaving this great group of guys, having hunted with many of them for the last 3 days, but after once again giving my thanks, we left the guys and grounds behind.
At home, Alex prepared fresh woodcock for dinner - which is one of the nicest birds I've ever eaten! So ended my 3 days hunting in Scotland. I had managed many firsts - Greylag Goose (2), Red Legged Partrdige (1), Wigeon (1) and Woodcock (3), along with a pair of Mallard's, and 8 Pheasant's.

Alex and Elsa's hospitality was amazing, and I felt like I had another family away from New Zealand. They want Bailie to come up next time, so they can meet her, and show her the same treatment. Everyone I met on this trip was friendly, helpful and generous. To finish the trip off, I managed to arrive back in London after 14 hours on the bus from Inverness, and made it to a New Years eve party at 11:59 PM, after sprinting from the tube. I arrived just in time to see in the New Year with Bailie and my friends. What a way to see out 2015!

Alex, Don and I at Red Castle

Day 2 - 7 Species in 3 days - Shooting the Scottish Highland's

After a cracking day at Red Castle, we started Day 2 with something very traditional. Alex took me Wild Fowling, in an attempt to get me my first Wigeon, and what ever else the Firth might produce. With so many species living and roosting on it, you just never know what may fly your way. The tides on the Moray Firth weren't perfect, with the rocks that were to offer us great cover, and get us close to the flight line still well under water, but with the birds flying at first light, you cant afford to wait for the tide either. We therefore perched ourselves as close to the water, and the deeper channel as we could, and waited for the birds to fly on dawn. Fly they did, and we saw good numbers of both Wigeon and Mallard, but they were just out of range, but I still got to see my first Wigeon! All in all, it was a morning well spent on the Firth.

We headed home for breakfast, then Alex told to me to change out of the welly's and into hiking boots, as we were off to do some miles in the hills looking for Pheasant's and, possibly even get a shot at my first Partridge.

Arriving at Cawdor, We met up with the rest of the crew, both of the 2 and 4 legged variety. We were hunting over pointers, and they looked as excited as I was. We worked our way to the first section of real cover, each taking a line. I was beside Phil on the far right, and enjoyed watching his dog work the scent. I enjoyed it even more when I saw him go into Point. Suddenly, a Cock Pheasant exploded from in front of the pointer, and Phil took in cleanly. On the Shot, a Cock flushed at long range in front of me. I still felt I had a shot, and took it. Down the bird came, but I could tell it wasn't taken cleanly. The pointer, turned, and on command, raced up after my bird.  During the retrieve, yet another pheasant flushed on our side, from the same cover. This time a Hen. Phil took it cleanly on the first shot, and we waited for the pointer to return to retrieve it. I watched the dog running all over the place, and eventually, in a totally different location to where I thought my bird was, or would be, he got really excited. The dog found it, about 500 meters from where I saw it go down, and promptly returned it to Phil's hand. It was the best unsighted retrieve I have ever seen.

We continued on through the fields, and could tell the dogs were picking up scent. We arrived at a good deal of low cover, and Phil told us he reckoned the pointers were on to Partridge. They told me there wasn't a huge amount of Partridge where we were, as they were wild birds that had fled from various hunting estates in the area. We worked cover to cover, when, with an flurry of wing beats, the covey flushed - but well ahead of us, and the dogs. We kept working the cover, and another covey flushed in front. I was far to slow, and missed with both barrels behind, but the others pulled down one on a fine crossing shot, and we had our first Partridge. Seconds later, another covey flushed. This time they were flushing left to right. I was still in the wood, and had trees in every direction, but I had a clear wedge of about 40 degrees to swing through. I watched the covey come from my left, being chased by shots, and as they passed through my shooting window, up came the side by side, and down went a Red Legged Partridge! While we do have Red Legged Partridge in New Zealand, they are not found in the wild, and are only hunted on private hunting estates, so to not only see one, but bag one in the Scottish Highlands was amazing.

We headed back to the vehicle's, and took a short drive up a winding, climbing road, through forest and heather, where I was introduced to some of the most beautiful country I have ever hunted pheasants in - the Drynachan Valley. With rolling hill country, over looking the famed Findhorn river, it was a great spot to have lunch as well, and I enjoyed a traditional Scotch Egg Pie and a brew for lunch, swapping stories. Just sitting their in the sun, having lunch with new friends in the highlands makes you realise just what hunting is about.

The rest of the afternoon was spent on a very memorable walked up day on the Pheasants. The dogs were great, pointing and flushing a good number of birds, and with the rolling hills, and variety of cover, it seemed every bird offered something different. Considering it was late December, the fact the I got sunburned tells you just how off kilter the weather was at this time of year, as we should have been walking through snow! I had a lucky line once again, and managed a left and a right on a Cock and a Hen, and picked up another Cock towards the end, with everyone else either also bagging a bird, or having an opportunity to do so.  I'd fired 8 shots for 4 Pheasants and a Partridge - not a bad afternoon! Now it was off home, to swap the boots for welly's, pick up Don, and head to a flooded paddock, and see what would come in on dark.

Meeting up with the other two lads who had invited us down, we made our way through the sodden paddocks, where we found a large body of flood water. There were no birds on it, but there was a mob of Pink Foot Geese on the next paddock over. Leading up to dark, we saw several mobs of
geese wiffle down and join their friends, then one mob came a little close to us, and Alex dropped one out of the mob. I was on the board next, with a left and a right on mallards. It was getting quite dark at this point, when I heard a sound ill never forget - Wigeon! I didn't even have time to lift my gun, but Alex certainly did, and he bagged a fine Wigeon drake. It was one hell of a shot! We could hear Wigeon, but as is their custom, they were coming through right on the very end of twilight. There were ducks all over the place, either coming to the flood water, or flying over us, when I caught a glimpse of a duck in the last clear and light piece of sky I had to backdrop a bird with. I took the shot, and heard it hit the ground. It wasn't till good ol' Don retrieved it, that I found out I'd just bagged my very first Wigeon, and it was a drake! On that note, we packed up and headed out with our bag - one very happy Kiwi hunter, and what a day! Alex really pulled out the stops and did all he could to help me bag a variety of species, and a big thank you to Andrew for allowing us down to shoot his land, where I got my Wigeon. We had done everything on day 2, I couldn't really imagine how we could top it. Boy was I wrong. Day 3 added another species to my list, and it was the one bird I'd really hoped to get....

This time, I have a gun

No sooner had I left Garrigill, and joined Bailie in Edinburgh, did Pete give me call, asking, me how my trip to the Grouse moor had gone. After giving him the good news, and again telling him how thankful I was to him for networking me with the required people, he asked me what I was doing the coming weekend.
I gave my normal answer, which is "I'm flexible, why, what's up"?

He then made my year.

"How would you like to go back up to the Garrigill area, but on a different Grouse Moor, and shoot a syndicate gun for someone who cant make it?"

Now, Pete knew that I was trying to avoid paying for hunting. I was instead looking to sort out swap hunts for people wanting to hunt with me back in New Zealand, or just looking for an opportunity by someone wanting to help a fellow hunter out, hear some new stories, and share what he, or she had to offer. Its what I do back home for travelling or new hunters I meet, so I was hoping the same would be the case as I travelled the world. Safe to say, while it wasn't free, to use the phrase "he gave it away" does come to mind. Pete told me that I may never get an opportunity to hunt grouse ever again, and that there were waiting lists in the UK for guys to get onto syndicate shoots, I was sold. To sweeten the deal, he talked with Cliff,the head keeper, and explained the situation. Cliff then told us he was going to take us to chase some pheasants before hand, and if she wanted to, Bailie could come along, to either take part in the hunt, or to watch - Two for the price of one, and I really like Pete's negotiating skills.

Bailie hadn't ever been hunting before, but she was very familiar with guns, and firearms safety, as her and I did spend a lot of time back in New Zealand, shooting clay targets, with the idea that one day, she may want to join me on a hunt. With an opportunity like this, she was soon convinced that there's no better time like the present, so it was off to the shops to get her some hunting gear!

We arrived by train, where Pete picked us up. Once again, Pete and his wife, Jan welcomed me, and this time Bailie, into their home. I can't say enough wonderful things about these people.

Bailie enjoyed the drive to Garrigill as much as I had, and she was starting to see why I had been so excited. Arriving at the estate, we met up with Cliff, and the rest of the syndicate where we were breifed that we would all take turns driving and shooting in teams. To my absolute dismay, they all agreed that Bailie and I would just shoot, as they really wanted us to have a chance at bagging a grouse. Considering that these guys are full time, paid members of the syndicate, this was very generous of them.

The pheasant drives flushed plenty of birds, but all away from our end, and it was the other boys who added to the bag early. After that, it was time to drive the grouse.

We had some good hills to climb, and it was nice of the guys to give up their seat in the Polaris, so Bailie didn't have to slog it to the top - though after stalking Chamois with me in the Swiss Alps, I know she would have made it either way.

We started seeing more and more grouse as the day went on, but I had only managed a long shot at a passing covey, to no avail. Cliff set us all down and gave us the game plan for the last two drives, both of which he told us, he expected good things from. We lined up in our places, and waited for the beating team to close the gap, and flush the grouse...soon enough, I was hearing that all to familiar and unique call of the grouse, and I knew, this time, we had them.

There were grouse Everywhere! Guys were firing up and down the line, and then, straight ahead of me, I see a covey of grouse flying nap of the earth. I keep focused, and rather than looking at the entire covey, I pick one bird. That one grouse is all that I am focused on. I know where the other guns are, I know where the beaters and dogs are, all that exists, is me, and this grouse. The covey closes on me, and I'm remembering all the things I had learned the week before with Steven. At what I deem to be the right range, I swing up and through the climbing grouse, that's just off my left shoulder. The Browning's trigger is crisp, and as I gently squeeze it, I'm thinking this is the most important shot I've ever taken in my life with a shotgun. The Grouse crumples in mid air, taken centre pattern. I swing on to the next bird, but its pointless. I am so charged up about what I just did, the excitement gets the better of me and I rush the shot. I also note that I am now shooting behind me, with a rear aspect shot. What I thought was ideal range to start shooting the covey, was in fact not ideal - lesson learned.

All of this is ticking in my head, but my mouth is just yahooing. In an explosion of emotion, the whole syndicate knows the kiwi has bagged a grouse! No sooner had I dropped two more cartridges in the Browning, that another covey screams in. This time, I keep my calmness through both barrels, and shoot earlier. I down my first left and right of grouse. I managed two more as the drive went on, finishing with two and half brace, and I heard Bailie fire a few shots as well. I had marked where all my birds had landed, so I was a little surprised when she pointed to an area behind and between the both of us, asking if id picked up the one that had dropped there. I told her I hadn't shot a grouse that dropped there, and we were both a little confused. The next gun along came over and straightened it out. He had a huge smile on his face, and hs words will live with me forever. "dear, you shot that Grouse, not Tom". Bailie shoots a semi auto 20ga back home, which has a lot less kick than a 12ga double gun. The fact that she was pulling up and through the grouse, combined with the recoil, combined with the fact that the mobs of grouse were so big, she had no idea that she her self, had just joined a very elite club, and bagged her first ever gamebird. To start with a grouse flying 75 mile an hour, well, we all have to start somewhere dont we.

Bailie, Pete and Myself after a day in spent in Paradise

I gave up my spot the line, as I had accomplished more than I had hoped, so I joined the beaters for the final drive. Cliff told me to shoot any birds that flush close enough, but to keep in mind that it might effect the main shooters. With this in mind, while I flushed several birds just a few yards in front of me, i let them go down to the guns. I had had my turn, now it was someone else's.

We didn't even count the bag, it was irrelevant. It wasn't getting any bigger, or any smaller, and we divvied out the birds amongst those who wanted some. I took just two. They will be the first birds or animals I have ever had mounted, in 25 years of hunting, but they are easily the best trophy I will ever hope to have. A pair, the first grouse that Bailie and I each shot.

What a day to remember, and what a great crew if guys, who once again, were happy to share their little piece of paradise with not just me, but Bailie too.

The most generous, and welcoming Syndicate of Shooters, you would ever hope to find..

Garrigill Grousing - Day 2

Day two saw better weather, and we ran drives over some other parts of the huge estate.  I had been told the numbers of grouse had been effected by a bad breeding season, but even still, I saw a huge number of birds. Hearing their distinctive call, and seeing huge coveys flush was truly an epic experience.

Steven, after we were both promoted!

Towards the end of the second day, one of the guns that Steven had been loading for fell Ill, and testament to the great job Steven had done for him over the two days, offered his gun to Steven. I was quick to put my hand up as a loader, and I am hanging onto the title of "fastest promoted Flanker to Loader at Garrigill" - Whether its true or not, I have no idea!

Getting to experience driven grouse from the hunting butt, as opposed to the view from beating, was a totally different experience. Steven shot pretty well over all, and I watched how he kept his gun low, and his eyes scanning. I will admit to be slow-ish on the loading, but I can confidently say my eyesight easily made up for it! We both had a blast, and it just added to my all ready epic experience.

Throughout the day, I met some real characters, and I was welcomed by all. Many of the guns came over and introduced themselves to the "Kiwi hunter", while the Garrigill crew were also superb. I had some great chats with Peter, Sid, Gregor and Mali, and, what little down time we all had was filled with stories and BS! I had really missed the banter you get on a hunting trip!

Coming from New Zealand, I had hoped to be able to experience some hunting around the world on my travels, and meet some like minded people. Never did I think, that I would receive an invitation to join a Grouse hunt on an English Moor. Thank you to Pete, Andrew, Steven, Alastair and others, who all helped to make this dream, a reality. I truly have found a little piece of Paradise.

Garrigill Grousing

I couldn't believe it, I was going on a grouse hunt!

Even though I wasn't shooting with anything but a camera, it didn't bother me one bit. I was thoroughly looking forward to taking part in a new sport, and seeing what driven grouse hunting was all about.

I pulled up in my little camper at Steven's house, just before the appointed 7am. We then had a chin wag while we waited for his daughter, Lizzie to arrive. Once she had, we loaded our selves into Steven's land rover, and hit the road. There was a light drizzle about for much of the way, but this turned to heavy fog as we climbed into the North Pennines, and into Grouse country!
The North Pennines was designated as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty in 1988,  and it was here that I spotted my first  mob of Black Grouse (Black Game) - this area holds 80% of all black game in the UK. I snapped a few photos of this new game bird, then it was a short drive through Garrigill proper, before we arrived at our destination - Garrigill Estate.

Black Grouse (Black Game) at Garrigill

Steven introduced me to Alastair, the head keeper at Garrigill, and he then gave me a quick run down of the day ahead. He introduced me to Pamela and Kevin, both of them beaters, and along with Lizzie, we headed off into the fog with the rest of the beating and flanking team. Having never flanked, beated, or even been on a driven hunt before, I was all ears as I got the low down for my job of the day. That, and taking photos was to keep me pretty busy!

The low fog dictated where our drives took place early on, but as the sun climbed, so did the fog, and it wasn't long before we were back to the plan, and seeing plenty of grouse. Id been told that some bad weather had effected grouse numbers, but as the day went on, we saw more and more.

Many of the shooters came over and talked with me, after hearing "a Kiwi" was in attendance, and between the beaters, the guns, and the loaders - many of whom were game keepers themselves, I was very warmly welcomed by all, and learnt a lot about grouse, and how to hunt them.

The day  seemed to vanish, even if I did spend the majority of it beating my way up the hills around Garrigill, and wading through moor land - all in all, it was good to blow the cobwebs out, and what a beautiful place to do it in.

All in all, my first day on a Grouse moor was interesting, and enjoyable. I met some great people, saw some fantastic country, and got to take part in hunting a new species. I couldn't wait to see what the next day would bring.

Flushing Pheasants in Cumbria

Having not picked up a firearm Since May, it marked the longest period in my life since aged five, that I had not been out hunting.

It was hard, and it was hurting!

Being based in the UK, where firearms laws and hunting opportunities are so different from home, I wondered if I would get out at all.

Luckily for me, I tracked down Pete. He had hunted in New Zealand a few years back, where I had the opportunity to meet him on a chance encounter. I knew he was a hunter, I knew he was in the UK, so I thought, why not flick him a message?

The response from Pete was fantastic, and when he offered to take me out when ever I came up north, I said "how about this weekend"? I've always made an effort to take what ever opportunities have fallen my way as quickly as I can.

So after catching an All Blacks Rugby World Cup Game, Bailie was on a train to visit friends in Scotland, and I was off hunting! It was like opening morning for me, I was so excited.

My first day hunting outside of New Zealand

Pete picked me up from the train station, and the first morning saw us heading out rough shooting pheasants, where we would be flushing them from cover with dogs - just like home. We were joined by Bob and Eric, and of course Pete's wonderful dogs - one of which, Brock, was out learning his trade on pheasants, just like me!.

I love my pheasant shooting back home but opportunities are scarce in my area. So scarce in fact, that I am only allowed one Cock Pheasant a day, over ONE weekend - that's TWO birds a year. As such, i'd never shot a "left and a right" of pheasant's, and the double was something I wanted.
We saw a good number of pheasant's through the day, and we even saw a partridge, and flushed two Roe deer - the first Roe i'd ever seen. Pete was first on the board with a nice Hen Pheasant, but to my absolute delight, I added to the bag next, shooting a flushing pair of cock Pheasants. To have achieved something on my hunting bucket list, like shooting a double of pheasants in England meant a lot to me, and it showed. It was plain for the lads to see, what being given this opportunity meant to me.

We finished up the rough shoot with a great mixed bag between us, where I managed a melanistic Hen to my brace of Cock birds, and two and a half brace of mallards that Eric and Bob brought down.

To top off the day, the retiring RAF Vulcan Bomber was doing its last flight around the UK, and it buzzed us as we were on the hunt. It screamed over head. Amazing!

So ended my first day hunting outside of New Zealand, and it was everything i'd hoped it to be, and I got to share it with some truly amazing people. But, tomorrow is another day, and we are chasing a Roe Buck!

Pete, Bob, Eric, Myself, and the hard working dogs - what a day!