After finishing off Uni for the year it was time to get back out into the hills and celebrate. With the truck needing a good run we decided to give the famous Godley a go. This valley is well known for providing many a hunter with a good Tahr and a great experience.

Hitting the black top after work on Friday, MJ and I arrived at the end of the road just before dark. The river was up so we began a walk-around, looking for a good place to cross. It was soon dark and we began to ponder staying south of the river for the night and crossing in the light. As we discussed this one of the local boys turned up and showed us where he had been crossing. After a quick yarn and a bit of a laugh we were north of the river and making our way up the Godley valley in search of the next great adventure.

The sun dropping away to the west as we headed up river.

A few creek crossings and a bit of trouble trying to navigate the track under terrible lighting from the Hilux put us at the hut just before midnight.

It had been a big week all round and the beds were good so a late start it was. While MJ cooked up some bacon and eggs I got to work glassing the nearby faces for Tahr. Literally the first face I raised glass to, I spotted a small mob of Tahr. A quick check with the spotter had me convinced we could get at them and since we were just looking for meat for the freezer, that was as far as animal elevation went.

*A small mob of Tahr feeding at the head if a steep rocky gut.*

After brekkie we saddled up and headed off up a steep scree-face followed by more climbing. This put us in a good spot to re-evaluate the area and hatch a plan.

As we discussed our next move the situation changed from raining to snowing. I just happened to look over the edge and see a blonde bull looking back up at me. I snapped a few photos of him as he climbed away to safety, but shooting him was out of the picture. The steep gnarly face he was on, would have made for a difficult retrieve had he not fallen all the way to the bottom.

Snapped; this fella caught me looking over the edge.

As we neared the next knob I spotted Tahr on the opposing face. Quickly signalling for MJ to get low, I dropped back out of sight. The wind was absolutely howling and the snow was falling almost horizontally, we struggled to get the camera set up on a tripod so made the call to not film the animals and just get a couple on the deck as the freezer was looking very empty back in Christchurch.

Two good shots had two animals down but a stray third meant that’s all we got. Happy with the result we surveyed the scene with big grins on our faces. From where the Tahr now lay it was an easy scree-run to the creek below. Getting to the Tahr though, would prove a challenge. A bit of clambering and sliding and we were on the scree-slope with the Tahr in sight.

After a couple of photos, we began gutting the animals ready for the easy carry out to back to the hut. It’s amazing how quickly two guys can throw a couple of Tahr down a hill side.

MJ getting back across the creek with a loaded shoulder.

We had lunch and decided we would try to get to a lake further up valley. A very slow and rough ride in the Hilux eventually got us up river but the water was flowing heavy and there was no chance of crossing without getting swept away. This really pissed me off when I spotted a Chamois on the other side that I could easily have shot but would not have been able to retrieve.

It would have taken Frodo and Sam just one movie to get the job done with one of these.

As the river was flowing so high I had thoughts of last year’s mission towing Trout home after he drowned his Hilux crossing the same river we would have to cross on the way out. I didn’t want to be the guy calling a mate on Sunday night asking for a tow, figuring the river could only rise we made the call to get out while we could.

We packed the Hilux and threw the Tahr on the bull-bar because, well it looked cool.

The drive down valley was a lot easier having light to see the track. We spotted more Tahr on the way out and noticed water levels were rising. When we got to the Macaulay River I parked the truck and we went for a walk. The last thing I wanted was to drown the old girl on the way home.

A quick walk to the other side and back and we had a route planned. There were a couple of deep spots but I was sure the old girl would do the deed. I slapped her in low box and gave it a nudge, crawling out the other side with no problems.

Homeward bound with some free-range meat for the freezer we were happy with the adventure and soon began discussing the next.

'Til next week,

Bruce.