Preparing for a Hunting Trip of a Lifetime | Savage Journeys

In my short hunting career, I have been blessed to venture to some amazing places in our world. I’ve chased elk in the mountains of Utah, trekked after barren ground caribou north of the Brooks Range in Alaska, and stalked deer in European countries like has been done for centuries. In 2020, I learned that we would be putting together a hunting trip to New Zealand to pursue red stag and black tahr. A trip that for many, is once in a lifetime.

I have worked hard to learn as much as I can about each hunt I go on. I learn about the environment, the game, and the challenges that we will face. I pride myself on being able to mentally and physically be ready for any situation we may find ourselves in. This situation was one no one could have seen.

Spring 2020, the world came to a halt. Our team was busy planning for our 2021 trip to the south island of New Zealand. COVID would be gone soon and planning a hunting trip 14 months away seemed low risk. What did we know. Not only did the trip not happen in 2021, but in 2022, New Zealand had not yet lifted its mandatory quarantine period to enter their country. The difficult decision was made to forego our trip for one more year. The new date was June of 2023.

Like I do with any hunting trip, I put in the work to make sure I am ready physically for the demands of the hunt. We knew this trip would take us on long stalks, up mountains, and through a wide variety of weather conditions. I hiked with my pack for weeks leading up the trip. I took up spin classes at the gym to make sure my cardio and legs were ready. I got back in the pool to make sure my lungs were in good shape. Stepping on the plane in early June, I felt almost as ready as I had been for my Alaska caribou trip.

My caribou hunting trip had been the hardest trip of my life, mentally and physically; limited sleep, 7 nights at spike camp, hours of trekking across tough terrain and even more hours sitting and glassing, hoping for sight of any life. I was beyond proud of not only my physical shape to endure it all, but maybe more impressed with my mental toughness. I was able to remain positive through some of the more difficult situations we encountered and kept my hunting partners spirits up when the days got long. If I could handle that, what else could New Zealand through my way that I was not ready for? Sometimes you should not ask questions you do not want to find out the answers to.

The first day of the hunt was amazing. My hunting partner tagged out on his stag in the first two hours of the hunt. After lunch, we found a stag that I was excited about. We stalked into place, found it bedded and got to within 150 yards. I was sitting down, rifle on the shooting sticks, waiting for it to stand up and give us a shot. But as you all know, things happen in hunting that force you to make decisions in a moment. As we sat on the hillside and waited for my stag to stand, we got a glimpse of a tahr to our left, in rifle range, but more importantly, in a place where tahr should not have been. Knowing we had more stag in this area, and even though I had my rifle aimed at a great trophy, we made a call to stalk tahr in the area instead. You will always second guess decisions after the fact. We spent miles walking up and down ridgelines, catching glimpses of the tahr every once in a while. We chased game that eluded us the entire afternoon and into the evening. We trekked through snow, water, slippery ground and steep hillsides. All of this after I had my stag in my optic, waiting for it to stand up for the perfect shot. But you cannot second guess, you must look forward and as Ted Lasso told Sam, be a goldfish. Forget what could have been and prepare your mind and body for what is to come.

Day one has come and gone, let’s see what day two has in store for us. We were at the middle of the ridge by sunrise. We began the climb up the snowy ridge to get a look down on the draws below us. As the sun crest over the rolling hillsides, we got the glimpse we were hoping for. May stag from the day before had not moved too far, but he was bed in a location that would challenge us. We had two choices: Take the snowy, slippery ridge down the steep face, or hike back to the road and try to come up from below him.

We chose the lower road, as the steepness and weather did not make us feel good about the pursuit. It took roughly thirty minutes to get below him, and as we crest the ridge where he was, we got the tail end of him moving over the next ridge. Another failed stalk, such is hunting. We followed him over the ridge and peered into the thick hillside below us. As we watched for what seemed like forever, we never caught sight of him again on that hill. So down we go, again. We made it to the road and walked along the draws. Looking up and down to try and find a glimpse of where he may have traveled. No luck. After another hour, we decided to walk back up the road, only to get the glimpse we wanted of him walking into a thick brush, never to give us any shot at him. So much for morning two.

When hunting kicks your behind, sometimes you need to leave the mountain and regroup. We did just that with an amazing picnic lunch along the beautiful lake on the south island. We sat lakeside and watch stags move along the foothills just above us. And with that, our energy was renewed, and we were off for our afternoon hunt. We made a game plan to try a new location, where they knew of one stag that would be our target.

Now, those that know me know that I am anything but a typical game hunter. Meaning, I love pursuing the game that others may pass on, because they are not perfect, or what some hunters may consider representative animals of the species. I am not that hunter. I love harvesting unique animals, as I feel their appearance helps me remember the story and the successes and struggles of the hunt.

We make the twenty-minute drive to the new location, park the car and unload for the trek. Five minutes into the hunt, we crest a ridge and do what every hunter knows usually ruins the hunt, we bumped the exact stag we were after out of his bed. We watch him run over the hillside with a couple does, thinking that our chances were ruined. But sometimes a stroke of luck is what hunters earn after days on a mountainside chasing around their target. As we sat on the hillside, we got a look at the magnificent stag. Not a typical looking stag, as his rack was palmated and he lacked the crowns typically found on red stags. But to me, he was amazing. We sat patiently as he followed his ladies around the tip of a draw. With one final step, less than 150 yards away from us, he gave us the shot we had worked for. One shot, and he was down. And not only that, but he fell on what might be the most picturesque place any hunter will ever get to stand on next to their trophy they came for. And just like that, our New Zealand stag quest was over.

People who grew up with me or have known me before I started working for Savage Arms know that I was not a hunter. I loved the outdoors but had never hunted before. Since 2017, I have now gone on an average of 4-6 hunts per year. Different places, different species. People who don’t know a lot about hunting ask me why I kill things. To me, that is not the question. The question I ask myself before each hunt is, how can I challenge myself, what can I learn and what things will I accomplish that I never knew I could?

New Zealand was a hunting trip I will not soon forget. Not for the beauty of the land, the animals, or the people. But more for that it taught me about myself. Every hunt I go on leaves an impression on me and keeps me chasing the next adventure. Hunting gives back to us in ways we cannot measure. Yes, we love the meat in the freezer or the mount on the wall that reminds us of the trips we have taken and the stories we have shared around a fire. But the most memorable parts of some hunts for me are what I take away from them on a personal level. What did I achieve, how could I be better, and when will I get that next chance?