“The Neighbour”

I mentioned to my neighbour that I was doing the HUNTS course and that I was going to get my firearms licence.
He casually said, “Oh, I should take you hunting sometime.”

One day, spotting him in his yard through the kitchen window, I thought, “Go ask him—he’ll help.”
“Hey, neighbour, can you help me install a gun safe?”
Five minutes later, he arrived with tools, popped in bolts to the floor and wall.
Done. The gun safe was ready.

The following week was the hunting weekend for the HUNTS course.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get to shoot as Katrina’s first shot scared everything away. But I listened intently and put into practice all I’d been taught- watching intensely as Katrina gutted the deer, wondering about that look on her face when she first pushed her arms deep inside the animal.

A few weeks later, with my fresh firearms licence, I thought, “Let’s start saving for my first rifle.”
Every instructor’s voice echoed in my head, “Get a .22LR first—they’re fun, and ammo is cheap.” So the saving began that week.

That Friday, after another workweek, I was bringing in the bins from the curb when I spotted the neighbour driving his side-by-side onto his trailer.
“Hey, I was going to message you,” he yelled. “Do you want to go hunting tomorrow?”
“Ah, yeah,” I replied.
“Okay, 4:30 am.”
“Done.”

I went to bed thinking about everything I’d learned and how excited I was to put it into practice. The 4:00 am alarm roused me—a quick shower, and I was dressed and standing in the neighbour’s driveway.
We grabbed his gear and the dog and were off.

We arrived at…well, you thought I’d reveal his hunting spots! Are you crazy? As you can see, I don’t tell secrets, so don’t be afraid to bring me to your personal, secret hunting grounds. I won’t tell anyone else, either.

We noticed lights ahead—damn, someone beat us to this spot. Unpacking quickly, we jumped in the side-by-side and headed up.
At the first gate, we spotted our competition: a German man and his teenage son.

The neighbour stopped and confirmed they were walking up the mountain.
“Nah, jump in the back,” he said. “It’s too far.” So we continued up and up over what I can’t even call a road. Halfway up, the big German guy had to squeeze into the front with us because going up backward while the side-by-side swung from right to left made him sick.

We reached the top just as dawn appeared. We agreed which sides the two groups would hunt and wished each other well before heading off.
The neighbour and I continued in the side-by-side a little longer, then got to the spot. Unloading, we headed out, spotting animals along the way but not what we came for, so we continued walking.
Stop, listen, look, walk, repeat.

We spotted a deer, but the wind shifted, and it was gone. By this time, I was getting sore and tired. The neighbour asked if we should do one more dip and valley, try stalking that deer.
One of the many one-liners of wisdom from our HUNTS instructors popped into my head: “If it were easy, they would call it catching, not hunting.”
“Let’s do it!” I replied.

We pushed on. Stop, listen, look.
We spotted some deer over the other side of the land, out of bounds on private property. I tried communicating with them telepathically to stroll over to our side since there was no fence.
Yeah, that didn’t work.
So on we went, heading in the same direction. I took a breather and spotted some deer about 250 meters away. I looked over to the neighbour, who was on his hands and knees, crawling back to me, trying not to make a sound.

He whispered, “There’s a bunch just over this dip. Let’s go for those first, and if they’re gone, we’ll go for the others.”
Okay, go time. I started crawling over to get into position.
He whispered again, “You’re going to have to scoot forward on your ass and then shoot from your knee.” Another one-liner of wisdom from our HUNTS instructors popped into my head: “Shoot already; you’re never going to be in the perfect position. The deer won’t wait for you.”

Okay, this is it.
The neighbour handed me his rifle, a Sako S20 .300 Win Mag—the first time I’d held it. My first shot at a deer with an unfamiliar rifle and in an untried shooting position.
“Shoot already; you’re never going to be in the perfect…” Yeah, those thoughts.

I started scooting my ass down the hill towards the edge of the dip. I saw two ears sticking up through the tussock. I rested the rifle on my knee and continued scooting quietly.
Through the scope, the head and chest came into frame.

Breathe in, breathe out, hold…squeeze.
BANG……thump—the deer still in my sight, unmoving.

I looked at the neighbour, and it felt like a telepathic moment—the excitement on his face told me what I needed to know.
His thoughts said loud and clear, “Hand me the rifle,” so I did.
He chambered another and BANG……thump.

He jumped up cheering with excitement, looking at me prouder than anyone ever had.
High fives, cheering, and laughing all at once—it sank in: we’d each gotten one.
We used the range finder and realized we’d managed to stalk within 70 meters.
Not a long shot, but I was very proud nonetheless.
We checked the time: 8:30 am.

The neighbour, Red the dog, and I got down the hill and over to the deer for photos.

My first deer ever.
The neighbour walked me through processing the animal, helping me get it into better positions at times but never doing it for me, just talking me through as I went.
I had the gut open, and it was time to pull everything out. I slid my arms up into the inside of the animal…I immediately understood Katrina’s face on that HUNTS weekend. “It’s just so warm.”
I took the backstraps, heart, fillets, and let them cool on a bush while we celebrated with a quick, bloody-handed lunch snack.
Higgy’s voice whispered, “That’s why I like to get into the spot, eat lunch with clean hands, then shoot an animal.”
So much wisdom from my course channelling through me today.
Lunch done, I put all the parts into a bag and turned the rest into a backpack.
We started the journey back to civilization. Holy shit, I’m unfit. Walk 20 mins, rest 10 mins, walk some more, rest, walk some more.
It started raining on me, and more one-liners sounded off inside my mind: “Shooting is the easy part; the real work starts after that.”
So I pushed on with the dog Red and the neighbour’s help and encouragement.
He kept telling me to think about the cold raspberry coke and hot fries we could have when we got out of here, so I mushed on.

We got back to the side-by-side and thanked every god I could think of for its existence -put everything in the back and made our way down the mountain. Back to the truck, loaded everything up, and off to the pub.

We got that cold coke and hot chips. I looked at the time—it was like 2 pm…I had a double-take when I realized it had taken me around 6 hours to get out.
I was exhausted but happy.

The next day I had heart for breakfast and thought how thankful I was for this hard work paying off.
Most of all, I was very thankful to “The neighbour”.
Some of you might know him as ……..Hamish Junghenn