HIGHLAND ADVENTURE

My journey through the Scottish Highlands gives me a preview of the mountain adventure that awaits. The hills are similar to those at home but scaled up. The volume is mind-blowing. Mr G, leader of Spartan Precision, calls me on my way to ask if I can pick up Team Finland from Inverness Airport – no bother. It’s catch-up time on the hour-long journey north. Jukka fills me in on all his news since our last adventure in Lapland and Miika is a kindred spirit, an outdoors and shooting fanatic.

On our arrival Mr G is holding court in the lodge. Chief witness Sam Thompson is recounting a tale, and there is a relaxed air of fun and anticipation for the days ahead as we are introduced to the crew of Spartan HQ and Team America. My first day starts with spying. We all collect as a group at the quarry. This vantage point gives a fair idea of the estate’s layout – and what a place it is. It wasn’t long before everyone was spotting different groups of deer. I spied a far-off hillside and put the Leupold spotting scope on the group. The stag was easy to identify – big-bodied, ivory tips, roaring, thrashing and rounding up his hinds. It struck me, as I glassed each group, how organised the deer seemed to be. Each sheltered pocket of mountain had a group of hinds and a mature stag. I guess the hill reds do a good job of herding their hinds. Sam gathers his under-stalker and gillies, and a plan is hatched. We load up the Land Rovers and head our separate ways. I am with and hardship – all of which go hand in hand. It’s a steep climb to start and we glass as we go. Just shy of the saddle it seems as though the wind will be a problem, but luck is on our side. As we reach the saddle to spy across, the wind returns in our favour. Jake spots a big stag bedded on its own on the hillside ahead. We stalk around and up to get level with him and settle on a shooting position at exactly 200m. I deploy the bipod and get ready. My position is rock solid. We have a strong wind, maybe 20mph, but it feels head-on. For the next hour we lie in wait. The cold sets in and I promise myself that tomorrow I’ll have an insulation layer. Despite our symphony of red deer vocalisms, the stag insists on remaining down. He lies for a little sleep, and when he awakens I look at his head and think to myself – if this were at home I would just head-shoot him. I suggest it to Jake but he seems unsure and suggests we wait. Another 20 minutes pass and I’m in full spasm from the cold north-easterly driving sleet into us. As the sleet passes the sun appears. I again suggest the headshot – my rest is solid and it’s a big target. Jake seems less hesitant this time, so I get ready to shoot. Safety off, crosshairs on, execute the trigger. The shot feels good, but I see the splash behind the stag as the shot sails high. He’s off and gone and suddenly I don’t feel that cold any longer. Lesson learned: don’t try marginal shots with a rifle you’ve never shot before, in situations where it’s not at all necessary.

SNIPER SKILLS Sam, the Finns and Madeleine, who is up for the first opportunity. While the environment and species are not new to me, I am keen to learn how things are done on a traditional estate in the Highlands. Corries, burns, the march – all new to me. As I tag along I am struck by Sam’s knowledge of his deer. As he glasses the stag he ages him and judges the head, educating his guests as we go. He judges the stag to be mature, with a good head and old enough to take. We start to close the distance, using the peat hags as cover. This brings us to a natural conclusion at the 350m mark. We have two separate groups of deer, both with good stags. The groups are only a few hundred metres apart and are at equal distances from us. The stags are roaring, but we are out of cover to facilitate an approach. A fog rolls in and Sam looks as if he’s going to take advantage of it, but it lifts again in seconds. We back out without detection and it strikes me how careful the stalking here is. Nothing is left to chance. Either there’s a good chance of an approach within range or you withdraw without disturbing the deer. Some of the others have had more luck, and Team America has had a good old royal stag down, recovered and in the larder. Over dinner we hear the story of the hunts and the wilderness, with good laughs all round.

The next morning I team up with Jake. He was previously the understalker here at Kildermorie and has returned to help out for the week. We soon realise that we share a fascination with hunting adventure, Land Rovers I’m not one to wallow or hunt for excuses when I miss – just take something from it and move on. In this case, the lesson is that patience kills deer. So it’s up into the next valley, glassing as we go. We spot another bedded stag and move in for a closer look. A covered approach and getting the wind right means we pop up at 220m. We both recognise that he’s not what we’re looking for. My disappointment retreats at the sound of a deep rutting roar. There’s another stag somewhere. I scan with my Steiners as we move, expecting to see the big roaring stag at any moment. The sound pulls us over the next ridgeline, and as we crest the shale-topped hill I spot the hinds. The stag is with them. He’s not that big but he has that deep roar and he’s holding hinds. Jake says he’s the stag to take, as he’s not good enough to be holding hinds. The terrain the deer are on looks epic and I’m excited about scaling the steep rocky slope and getting into a shooting position above them. We choose the safe option around the back, up and over for a top attack. We sneak along the near-vertical slope, choosing our footing carefully to ensure stealth and avoid a slip. I know that at any moment we will spot the deer, and when we do Jake points to a perfect shooting position. The stag is bedded at 102m. The hinds are unaware of us. I have deployed the Springbok bipod – a perfect tool for this hunt, as much at home in the long heather as it is in this steep downhill position. The stag, seemingly aware of my earlier impatience, stands to give me a full broadside presentation. I let the Sako Finnlight speak and the shot hits square in the centre of the shoulder. The stag takes a few running steps downhill but they are his last, and he crashes into the hillside heather.