Steel River Beasts
Macaulay valley hunting trip- Part 1
I’m not a person who typically likes hunting in groups. So it was not without some reluctance that my Dad and brother Reinhard would accompany me on a South Island hunting trip. When you hunt on your own all the time (besides Kim dog of course) you miss out on the social aspect of hunting. We had done one of these trips before, a very unsuccessful Tahr hunt right against the Lyell glacier in the upper Rakaia four years before but this time I knew what I was doing (more or less). I’ve mentioned before my significant lack of a hunting ancestry. My dad may have only gone hunting a few times in South Africa and Namibia with friends, but he excelled at mechanics, specifically Toyota Landcruiser’s, an obsession that I’ve somewhat Inherited. Basically, I was the one put in charge of finding a place to go, Macaulay hut seemed like the best option, given my dad’s primary interests. The valley it inhabits is only accessed by a three-hour 4x4 trek of river crossings and boulder fields. It happened to be close by to other areas I had hunted and is probably the nicest hut in all of New Zealand. It wasn’t long before my Friend Gallagher caught wind of this mighty adventure. Not wanting to miss out, Gallagher and his dad joined our group and the trip became a sort of father son trip of two families, participating in the manliest of all activities, Tahr hunting!
Those Stone walls are actually super warm.
Photography by Gallagher Houlbrooke
Photography by Gallagher Houlbrooke
We met in Tekapo, the couple weeks of possum trapping on the west coast and solo Tahr hunt Filming had made me ragged and rough looking. I was battle hardened and ready for some serious adventure. Driving up the winding dirt road I was planning on getting my brother Reinhard and Gallagher their first Tahr. The first river crossings were quite easy. A few private land Tahr were spotted and public land animals seen many kilometres away. Me and Gallagher were riding in Diana, our Princess named Landcruiser, like a giant red spider climbing relentlessly out of every deep-water course. At times it was a little confusing but the 4x4 track to Macaulay hut is pretty well-marked and it took us half the time on the way out than the way in. As young men typically do, we were spurring each other on, neither of us wanting to relent the title of the most fearless guy. This would end in wet feet and a necessary change of under wear in just moments. A menacing pool lay before us, endlessly wet looking and pretty intimidating. We looked at each other, my caution was completely cast aside as Gallagher uttered the words, “You wont you bitch.” Diana rushed into the river, the water quickly climbed up the sides, our victory was assured as Diana’s rubber talons gripped the rocky ground. Just as I began to think I had made it through, Diana sank, her right side dug down deep into soft gravel and belched water against my window. Oh shit. Icey water was halfway up each door and we were both kind of panicking. Gallagher jumped into action, half out the window, he was ready to receive a tow rope from his dad behind us on the bank. At the same time, I tried to reverse but found my faithful automobiles rear was being pushed by the current, misaligning us with our only exit strategy. “Oh man this is bad” is all I remember saying. Poisonous fear was reverberating through my body. Something told me to try once more, I slammed into reverse again, the back climbed over a large boulder and the car went straight again. rapidly reversing out of the river and back onto the bank. God damn that was close.
Photography by Me
Also me (thats why it kind of looks crap)
The thing about the stuff I like to do is that danger is always there, without danger the stuff I do wouldn’t be fun. When I plan these trips, I don’t want safety, I want to push limits and challenge myself. I know a lot of people say things like that, maybe as a kind of justification or to sound like a more interesting person. I was damn scared; I’ve only been freaked out like that a few times in my life. There’s was no chance I was going to die but the fear of drowning Diana and almost all of my gear and belongings gave me a bit of paralysis. Coming out of stuff like that all I can think is that’s why I do what I do, to feel a bit scared, to get my blood pumping and achieve a cool sigh of relief when everything works out. Plus, a cool story to tell at parties.
It was a relived hunting party that travelled through river flats adorned with massive boulders left by ancient glaciers. The country here was absolutely stunning, even more rugged than what I was used to. We made it to the hut right on the dark, the entire trip had taken us three hours of laboriously driving over rocks. Macaulay hut is legitimately one of the best huts I’ve ever been to. Its big but doesn’t feel fancy, its placement isn’t anything super special but it’s still beautiful. It has double long drops, its own gas supply, a generous fire place with an inbuilt oven, and most significantly, taxidermy mounts of one of the first red deer shot in NZ and two Tahr mounts. Its stone walls breathe Character, I can see why so many 4x4 clubs go there. The stag shot at the hut has an interesting story. Two hunters carrying 22 pistols, shooting keas, believed to prey on lambs. Saw the stag and pursued it for many Kilometers. Saying that by the time they finally killed it, it was filled with dozens of .22 bullet holes. One hunter took the head, and the other took the ragged skin as a rug. It’s those kinds of stories that don’t only show how far the ethicacy of hunters has come, but reminds me that at one point, the animals that almost seem endemic to NZ now, were never seen before in certain areas. Probably being almost surreal experiences for early settlers.
Solo hunting has its perks, but you miss out on the comradery and fun of hunting with your friends and family.
Pulling out our only spotting scope we spotted a couple nannies very far away but otherwise nothing was seen. We possessed butt loads of gear and food; we were here for the long haul. The next few days would be interesting, chaotic and just a lot of fun. With two very bizarre and great stories happening back-to-back in one day. Unfortunately, I’m splitting this trip in two so you’ll have to wait till the next article to find out what happened. For now, I’ll just say, when someone says, “You wont you bitch,” you have two options. You can reverse or you can plunge four tonnes of steel into a river and see if you make it.