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New Zealand, New Lease on Life
Four years ago, my husband, Charlie was diagnosed with colon cancer. After his surgery, during the first round of chemotherapy, hunting season was fast approaching. Charlie wanted to stay involved in the things he loved, but with his weakened physical state he needed me to be with him. This is how we started hunting together.
Charlie’s been cancer free for two years! We decided to live life and take our dream trip — a red stag hunt in New Zealand. April of this year, Charlie, his friend Dick, and I met up with Kanuka Wilderness Hunting outfitter Neil Mercer.
On the way to camp we spotted multiple red stags, one with an SCI score of silver. And we even heard their roars, which they only do three weeks a year. It only added to our excitement.
Upon arrival at camp, we were greeted by our hosts and guides: Robbie, Shane, Trevor and Donna. Once settled, we climbed on the quads and headed up the mountain trails. We spooked a young stag with an enormous rack and observed several herds of Arapawa rams, turkeys and fallow deer.
As night fell we experienced the hair-raising roar of a red stag. I slipped up as close as possible to record it, then he spotted me and disappeared into the brush.
The next morning, we traveled by quads to the top of the mountain and trekked down on foot. We walked up on three deer — two females and a male. Several times the male let out a loud blow, stomped his feet, did a 360-degree turn and blew again, until at last he left.
We climbed to the top of another mountain where a roaring stag sounded as though he was just behind the tress at the edge of a clearing. However, the stag was farther than we had anticipated. But we came upon another one in the clearing. The stag saw Charlie and jumped up, ready to bolt. Charlie was able to get off a shot. His stag measured SCI gold. Later that afternoon, Dick killed an enormous monster, which measured SCI super gold.
The next day was my time to hunt, and I had my heart set on a ram. There were a few herds, but the trick was getting close enough before they spotted us. After trekking down the mountain and easing through the brush, Neil found a herd about 115 yards away. I had a small window through the trees to shoot. Using Neil’s Ruger .308, I set up on a brown ram. He moved into place, I took my shot and he was down.
I was looking forward to taking home his wool, but it was too thick. Since Neil needed meat for camp, he let me shoot a younger animal for the hide. We came upon another herd 157 yards away. I was a little nervous and afraid if I missed I would disappoint Charlie. Neil set up on the herd and pointed out a young ewe. I waited for the perfect shot, took it and dropped my second Arapawa.
Ladies, if you don’t hunt with your husband, you are missing a wonderful part of life. Our memories of simply seeing animals mean just as much as the ones we shot. So embrace your heritage and live life.
Debbie Conn
Eustis, Fla.
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