Stalking roe deer in the time of COVID - The buck that returned.

This year has been a year of guessing if someone is smiling or scowling through their mask, a year of asking people to repeat themselves as they shout from two meters away, a year of becoming a connoisseur of hand gels. So when I got the opportunity to escape it all and stalk a roe deer on the fells of Cumbria, I couldn’t have jumped higher.

The author at his desk

The morning soon rolled around and with clear skies and a little wind I knew that it was going to be a great day. My dear friend Charles cooked me an amazing full English not long after my arrival which would have rivaled any MasterChef cooking! After polishing it off we began our journey on what was to be an extraordinary experience in the Cumbrian countryside.

A Merkel and a fry up - all you need for a successful stalk

I started my ascent up the steep hillside, a Merkel on my back and bacon in my belly. The climb seemed to last for hours as I picked my route through the brash and heather, stopping frequently to catch my breath which floated away on the cold air.

I eventually reached the summit and let me be the one to tell you that the view of the rising sun was like nothing I’ve ever seen before, the rolling hills making an excellent backdrop for many photographs. I crouched amongst the heather and rocks, using my shooting sticks as a rest. I looked down into the valley admiring the beck, saplings and rock formations through my Leupold scope.

As the mist lifted my view became clearer still, Charles began to point out areas that he had previously seen the deer grazing in the valley bottom as well as stories about previous stalks which only fueled my excitement.

I took off my pack and laid it on the ground preparing myself for what was to come. I flicked up the caps on my scope, loaded the magazine and made last minute adjustments to the brush in front of me. Charles checked the wind with the smoke from his cigarette and then we waited.

Get lost, Mr Magpie

As we both laid there motionless, we saw our first glimpse of a buck. A strong healthy adult, this was my moment. I shouldered my Merkel and took off the safety. Then a magpie called out and the buck fled out of sight as quickly as it appeared. I couldn’t believe that I had missed my opportunity because of a pesky black and white bird that had been quiet until that point.

I put the rifle back on safe and turned to Charles who was still looking down his Leupold binoculars. After a few seconds he took them away from his eyes and reassured me that it would return. Doubtful I stayed lying where I was, waiting for the promised buck to return. Time seemed to go faster the longer I waited and every branch that moved in the wind got my hopes up thinking it was the buck. Then it appeared.

The same buck that we had seen before, but this time at the left-hand side of the wood. It was upwind so no chance of it smelling us and there hadn’t been another call from that magpie. I waited patiently as it meandered down the beck towards where Charles had said he had previously seen it. Every time it stopped and lifted its head I worried it would bolt again. But this time it didn’t and it strolled into range.

The moment of truth

I looked down my Leupold placing the crosshairs on its shoulder. When I was comfortable I flicked off the safety and leaned into the stock on the Merkel. I took one last breath and as it left my lungs and the cross hairs found their mark, I gently squeezed the trigger. I looked back at the roe that was still standing there and I thought I had missed. Then it leaned and fell on its side. Charles turned to me and gave me a celebratory high five. I could not wipe the smile off my face.

We walked down the hillside and into the valley and after jumping over the beck we found the buck lying in the same place it had dropped. We hung it from one of the lower branches near the stream and began to prep it. Finally, there was just the job of getting it back up and over the hill.

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