Chamois In The Slips
FOLLOWING my last hunt in December 2014, with my 9 ¾ inch buck now shoulder mounted on the wall, I would occasionally give him a pat and relive the hunt. I couldn’t wait to get the cold river around my ankles again.
Sweet talking the ole girl, I managed to obtain “permission” to head up river again but she had me by the short and curlies with a condition attached – she wanted to come too. “Hmmm,” I thought, “this could work out in my favour … if I play my cards right.”
I guess my photos of the river and Southern Alps in the South Island from the last trip had something to do with her request. Now, my December hunt was a budget expedition, sleeping in the car and tenting up river until the weather drove my brother-in-law Geoff and me into a backpacker’s. This trip called for motels and
