The East London Tahr Hunting Society: 2016 Tahr Hunting Trip Part Two (Arbor Rift)

The last thing that I expected, when I signed up for two consecutive weeks of tahr hunting in the Landsborough, was to spend two consecutive weeks tahr hunting in the Landsborough! In previous years we had never had more than 3-4 days in the block at a time because adverse weather either delayed the flight in or forced us to leave early in order to avoid getting stranded. Not this year! The first week in Bubble Creek was quite wet but we still got 19 tahr between the four of us. At the end of it Haas and I were taken by helicopter five minutes down the river to Arbor Rift. Erik flew in from the US to meet us there and the three of us had six days of great weather in and around Arbor Rift. We took another 13 tahr, enjoyed some stunning scenery, and indulged in some experimental cooking of tahr heart and "Landsborough Oysters"...

A brief glimpse of civilisation and then back to camping

Setting up camp was no mean feat because of the size and quantity of accommodation. The communal tent just squeezed in amongst the trees and our individual "bedroom" tents were scattered around the area...

Erik's tent (left, foreground), The communal tent (amongst trees, smoking), Mike's tent (right).
Haas's tent is behind the communal tent.

Once all was set up and rifles were sighted in, I went for a brief walk upstream with Erik to size up the area. The boulder hopping was very slow going and we returned in half the time through the forest above the river. We came home to find Haas had cooked an awesome tahr stew with carrots, potatoes, capsicum and smoked red pepper spice. This was washed down with some of his famous mulled wine and then everyone was pretty buggered so we all headed to bed not long after dark.

On Sunday Erik and I got up early and went up Spur Creek, the next creek immediately downriver from Arbor Rift (there's a map at the end of the article). We pretty soon spotted a bull up on the ridge (true-left of Spur Creek). After sneaking along under a long ice floe we then started to climb the ridge under the tahr, out of sight. The going got progressively steeper until we suddenly realised we were climbing an almost vertical slate chimney. Very slow & technical but we both got up to the relative safety of the (still near vertical) bushline in one piece.

A view from Spur Creek towards the ice floe. It's about 100m long and 20m wide, in case the scale is not obvious.

We got above the really steep bits and were ascending a gentle 45 degree slope when we spotted the bull walking along the ridge 100m above. It disappeared behind some rocks and Erik set himself up to take the shot when it would emerge again...

Erik ready for his first tahr of 2016

But the tahr didn't reveal itself! After 15 minutes we gathered our things and started slowly making our way up to the ridge. A few metres from the top the bull suddenly jumped out from behind a rock and bolted right past us down the hill where we had come up. In seconds it was around the corner and off to destinations unknown. We shook our heads and proceeded up to the ridge, which we then clambered along towards the mountain. Although it was slow going, it definitely felt safer than the slips and chutes below us! This ridge in particular seemed to be a highway for tahr judging from the quantity of sign.

Mike posing on the ridge

This shot shows the ridge that we clambered along, towards Tekoe mountain.

Erik had a shot at a young tahr on the way but it must have plummeted down a slip so was unretrievable. Where the ridge meets the mountain we climbed down on the Arbor Rift side and had lunch by the creek. We then crossed Arbor Rift and made our way up to the tussock flats above the opposite side of the creek. The tussock seemed to just terminate strangely on the horizon and when we got to the edge we saw why - Fettes Glacier had carved the rest of the hill away.

Mike standing at the 'end of the world' looking towards Fettes Glacier

The ridges up both sides of the tussock flats were well trodden paths so we knew some animals would come out of the bush when it got closer to sunset. We decided to "stake out" the area, from a concealed spot on the Arbor Rift-side ridge.

It started to get pretty cold and the wind was blowing a light snow into our faces. Erik went on a side-mission up the hill to stay warm and just as he got back Mike spotted a bull come up out of the forest below, as predicted. It disappeared behind a rock and Erik got set up to take the shot when it re-appeared. A tense 10 minutes passed before it showed itself and Erik smoked it with his 7mm R8...

[Sadly no photo of this one - Erik??]

Since we were directly above camp we figured the way back could be attempted in the dark so we took the time to skin it and take the meat, and then started making our way back down. It was much harder going than we thought, being very steep and the forest was strewn with rotten standing logs. During a lapse of concentration I put my weight on a large log that gave way completely. I crashed through the bush landing upside down, and would have been OK if the log hadn't followed me downhill and clipped me on the chin. A bloody way to be reminded of two important rules 1/ DON'T attempt new routes in the dark! 2/ Get to know a tree a little before you lean on it.

Meanwhile Haas had decided that morning to go just for a one hour "stroll" in his gumboots. Half an hour up Arbor Rift he spotted a bull, then also a nanny just on the ridge enjoying the sun just starting to hit the tops where they were. After watching them for a while, he took the true left creek up
past where Arbor Rift splits. Looking back across so the sun soaked scrub, Haas now saw 20 tahr. They moved their way further into the valley and Haas pushed on. Up he went for another 40 mins and came across the Fettes Glacier in the tussocks. Impressed but without a camera he headed back toward Arbor Rift.
When he got back around to the tahr lookout, he saw a couple of awkward townies clambering along the ridge, only 50m above where he saw the tahr earlier. The tahr spotted were revisited later on.

Dinner that evening was an awesome garlic parma ham pasta. With the slate chimney, ridge crawling and nighttime forest descent in mind, I wrote in my diary that night: "Ok that's enough danger for - can we chase bush tahr for the rest of the week please?"

Monday morning was an early start instigated by Haas, for a quick hunt all together downriver to Scramble Stream.

As we started heading up Scramble Stream we spotted a large bull 500m away ascending the mountain. We snuck up the creek bed but couldn't close the gap because he was moving too. We decided to leave him but gain some altitude up the side to see what else was around. 20 metres later Tom spotted a big, heavy, hairy bull on the flats between the ridge and the mountain. With supporting fire from Haas I took it down and then we spent a solid hour skinning the animal and taking the meat. Although 12.5 inches the horns were a bit wonky so I just took the skin. We also decided to saw into the chest cavity to get the heart this time, an educational first for all.

12.5 inch trophy bull tahr skin

Homeward bound

That night we fried the heart with garlic, onions and butter and served pasta on the side. The consensus was that the heart was good - very tender, like a fillet steak that's initially a little firmer to the bite but that gives way once you bite into it. Texture-wise you could compare it to ... halloumi cheese? The taste is very much like a fine fillet steak. We did trim all the extraneous bits off, so we were eating just heart muscle.

As we sat around the stove in the warm communal tent, with our stomachs full of fine food, Erik told us that while he was waiting for his helicopter ride in a bunch of Ozzies had asked him where he was going. When he said "Arbor Rift" they laughed and told him "You mean Arbor-FRIDGE mate! That campsite gets no sunlight AT ALL." Given the level of luxury we were experiencing we figured "The Arbri-La" might be a better term, at least while we were having such great weather..

On Tuesday I decided to have a "camp day" to tend my wounds. I braved the Landsborough for a quick wash during the ten minute window when the sun shines down the valley and onto the creek, which got off to an awkward start when I had my kit off and then found that the soap had frozen in the bottle.

The Landsborough River during the glorious but brief ten minute window when it gets the sun...

I spent the rest of the day chopping firewood and trying to charge my phone and Haas' GoPro with the Biolite Campstove. Nice idea, to recharge things using the power of fire, but it requires constant attention during the 5-6 hours it would take it to fully charge a phone.

Just bring a USB power bank next time...

Meanwhile on Tuesday, Erik and Haas did a crack-of-dawn stalk up the true-right side of Spur Creek. When they popped out of the bush they saw three tahr and Erik shot another bull. They then carried on up the hill to glass for tahr and saw 26 in total along the ridges and on the mountain.

After an hour of glassing Haas had a solid game plan for the next few days. The strategy was to target the various groups seen, working a different valley each day, staying at least one valley away from previous days' hunt.

It was very scenic with such great panoramas that it reportedly gave Haas goosebumps. They collected the skin and meat from Erik's tahr on the way down and even though they had seen a lot of tahr, Haas reckoned he could smell even more on the left of Spur Creek...

Erik Ridgewalker

Scenery.

On Wednesday Haas and I decided to head up Arbor Rift to target a group of tahr that Haas had seen/smelled on Monday. Haas's cunning plan was to get up there early while the sun is shining in their eyes so that they can be well stalked from the creek below. It worked, kind of.

The lower parts of Arbor Rift (a rock strewn creek)

We found the mob, comprising one bull and five nannies. Haas was to shoot first at the bull, after which I was to focus on culling the nannies. Things rarely go to plan when you're tahr hunting. The tough old bull took a neck shot and then ran straight up the face and over the ridge. I unleashed a magazine of ammo at nannies on the run and managed to only get one. After collecting the spent shells we left a cache of gear at the bottom of the face and proceed to climb the steep bush slope to try and recover the animals.

First light shooting position

Haas searched all up and down the ridge and on the slips and gullies either side having found only a tiny splattering of blood five metres below the sunnyside of the ridge. Just when he was about to give up, his attention drawn to a larger blood trail on the other side of the ridge, by a Kea that was licking up some chunky bits.

He climbed carefully down from there to find the bull sitting against a rock. It looked Haas in the eye and gave a dismissive snort before he put it out of its misery with his rifle. He figured this bull had particularly big balls so took them as well as the skin and meat.

Haas' big-balled bull

By this time I had found my nanny and then climbed back over to Haas' side to find him. We agreed to process our own animals and make our separate ways back to camp.

Haas's return trip got a little exciting as, with a heavily (ball-)laden pack, he encountered the same slate chute and generally dangerous terrain that Erik and myself had ascended on Sunday. If only there was a "Fistfull of Tussock".. After getting 'bluffed out' a few times he eventually made it down to the ice floe and then back along to camp.

This vertigo-inducing shot taken by Haas shows what you see when you're bluffed out (looking down)

An easy bit: a steep bush ridgeline (plenty of hand-holds)

In the afternoon after cheese toasties, for "second lunch" we enjoyed Erik's very fine "tahr heart sauteed with spinach". Very tasty.

Wednesday proved to be quite the gastronomic event, as that evening we enjoyed a three-course meal:

Wednesday Evening Menu at the Arbri-La Restaurant

Entree

Landsborough Oysters

Second Entree

Crackers and Cheese

Main

Mega-Macaroni Cheese

Landsborough Oysters Recipe (serves two)

Remove the balls from the bag (they squeeze out easily), and proceed to cut and peel away all the outer layers until you are left with a glistening sphere that just has the epididymis attached. Slice off the epididymis with a very sharp knife until you are left with a homogenous sphere. Slice the sphere into thick (5mm) slices and then fry in butter for a solid 20 minutes until browned on all sides. Beware the creamy buildup on the knife.

That is not a chicken leg

Landsborough Oysters

The oysters were received with varying levels of consternation but we tried at least one each and agreed that they did taste a bit like egg, which is something Erik recalled from having tried them before in Greece where "αμελέτητα" is considered a delicacy.

The macaroni cheese was also a topic of some discussion as I was fairly convinced that 1kg of cheddar is the appropriate amount of cheese for two bags of pasta and three people. This raised some eyebrows but they let me get on with it and it was fairly warmly received, although we barely made a dent in it. It took a fair bit of elbow grease to clean the pot the next day and it ruined a dish brush. Luckily we had a spare.

Thursday was our last full day and all three of us headed downriver to Struggle Creek, where Haas had seen a large mob of 15 tahr. Erik and Haas had their guns but I was happy to just observe and, hopefully, help carry meat and skins back to camp. It turns out I had my work cut out for me.

Struggle Creek is divided by a sharp wedge of steep forest. We went up the left side, as the mob we were targeting was expected to be on the right. Part way up a nanny and kid crossed our path at a surprisingly low altitude. Notably, the prints they left looked very fresh. We then scaled a steep rockslide to get into the wedge of forest.

Looking up Struggle Creek, the forest is on the left in front of the snow faces

The forest was mossy, steep and had the atmosphere of an enchanted forest from an 80s kids movie, but steeper. We climbed for only a few minutes before seeing two nannies out on the other side in the snow where the mob was expected to be. We decided to let them be for the time being in order to not spook the main mob.

Another 10-15 minutes of clambering up and across the forest we saw a bull and two nannies through the foliage. They were just making their way towards the ridge-line so we had to move fast. We got closer to the edge of the forest and, as we did so, also saw a couple of kids. While we watched and dug around in our pockets for earplugs in anticipation of the showdown to come, another nanny and five kids appeared... Of course in true tahr-like-fashion we weren’t in an ideal shooting position, being inside a forest, shooting uphill and across through the leaves of the trees that covered the perimeter.

Erik opened fire on one of the nannies and pole-axed it. Then the mayhem started.. It's hard to place events in chronological order, but all of these things happened:

Erik shot a tahr on the run at a disturbingly short distance
The bull disappeared
We emerged from the forest
I was nearly tackled by a nanny running towards me going "eeeeeeeee!" which I then chased into the bush but lost track of
Haas came around a small ridge to see the bull right in front of him and shot it in the head
Erik shot a tahr off the ridge above, in the head.
Haas saw a nanny 100m down the hill and shot that too, in the head.

When the fog of war had cleared and we were skinning and taking meat from the scene of carnage there were still a number of tahr up on the unreachable ridges and faces all around us whistling like crazy. It was a good opportunity to practice our tahr whistling technique by returning their calls, driving them into even more of a frenzy as they popped their heads over the ridge to see what the hell was going on. Haas shot another two nannies in the head while they were doing this.

More mountainside butchery...

There was also an absolutely huge bull above a vertical cliff to the north that was completely unfazed by the whole event. Being quite obviously a trophy animal we let him be rather than take wasteful pot shots. We'd run out of ammo anyway.

Can you spot the wack-a-mole tahr?

Looking back into the enchanted 80s forest, from where the tahr had been.

As we staggered down the mountainside we tried to process in our minds what had just happened. The general consensus was that we had lost a bit of respect for the tahr after seeing them demonstrate such a poor aptitude for self-preservation. That said, coming at them out of the forest seems to have caught them off-guard, as this is perhaps the area that they run to for safety. One thing is for sure, there are still plenty of tahr up Struggle Creek.

Descending...

More descending, with the war zone above in the background

"Erik, pose with that boulder!"

In total over the course of the whole week we took five bulls, six nannies and two kids.

On Friday morning the helicopter came to extract us and our massive load of meat & skins.

We asked the pilot if he ever got bored of the epic scenery, he said "no".

We then kicked around the Fox Glacier area trying half-heartedly to get onto some chamois and generally enjoying the perks of civilisation (restaurants, bars and showers).