Well - Sunday couldn't come fast enough, and man - I preached a good sermon Sunday morning, I was sooo excited about the shoot!

1:30pm Sunday, Garth, Jan (pronounced Yarn) and I jumped into Garth's Camaro V8 and hit the road for a four hour drive to the 'farm' where Butch (farmer and friend of Jan) would host us for the night.

As we leave Auckland and head south, we can feel the stress begin to lift, and the excitement build.

After arriving and unpacking, we meet a couple of Butch's friends, especially the guy leaning against the 4WD - a full time Possum Trapper. My hero!

Then we have a look in Butch's 'Man Cave'!

Oh my goodness!  Deer antlers, possum skins, boats and bullets everywhere.

I've died and gone to heaven.

After oggling the shed, we decide to head to the rear of the farm, to a beautiful stream and have a go at some Trout fishing - taking my trusty Papoose .22 along, just in case we see any national pests!

Wouldn't you know it, only meters from the house, after opening the first gate - at around 60 meters - 2 Magpies!

Jan quickly turns the Jeep side on to give me a support to stand the bipods on, and I line up Magpie #1 in the 3-9x50 crosshairs.

Allow around 2 milldots for distance - breath in, exhale - pause and squeeze the trigger.

Don't you love that distinct 'Thud' when bullet hits bird or beast!

Running the 60 meters, reveals a perfect head shot. Awesome. That would be Magpie #1 of a total of 3 for the next 12 hours.

What a beautiful river, where Garth begins the delicate art of casting, winding and spinning the lure.

We see a couple of Trout jumping against the current, and another couple lurking in the shadows - but none took the lure.

Jan had the biggest catch of the afternoon - a massive Willow on the far side of the bank!

Heard mutters from Garth about it 'being my best lure that you just lost', with equally muttered replies from Jan - 'It was probably my lure anyway!'

Well, back to the farm house for a fantastic - if not rather late - dinner of roast Chicken and a host of delicious vegetables.

10pm we hit the sack, with the news of a 1am start to the day.

Jan and I shared a bedroom, while a Freight Train rattled nosily down it's rusty tracks in the room next door where Garth was oblivious to the commotion his blissful sleep was causing the rest of the house (apart from me - who's secretary (and Garth's wife) at church had for-warned, and hence the industrial standard top of the line decibel dampening ear plugs :-)

1am rolled around too quickly, and since I was sleeping with ear plugs - Jan was busily shoving my bed in an attempt to arouse (maybe that's the wrong word! :-)  me and to get me to turn off my cell-phone alarm.

Amidst confusion and coffee that only happens at 1am in the morning, we managed to all make it into the 4wd parked in the drive. Oops, forgot my .22!

Spotting the track towards the forest, we see a few beautiful large brown furred possums, that I didn't seem to have a chance of hitting, no matter how many shots - my eyes just refused to work in harmony with the rest of my body, especially my fingers!  (Turned out that I'd sighted in at 50 meters - on 9 zoom, and these beasts were only 5 meters away, and I hadn't reduced the zoom to 3x!)

Spotting the bushy mountain crags through the dense darkness of early morning - Butch was easily able to pick out around 5 deer at different places and stages of the morning.

Jan took our first beast - a large 11 pointer at around 160 meters.  Leaving him for later when we had better light, we continued to spot at different places around the forest.

Driving up a small dirt road, Butch spots a medium sized 6 pointer at around 100 meters away! Jan tried to sight it in the scopes - but just couldn't find it - so Butch took over, and with an enormous crack of thunder shattering the still morning air - deer #2 breathed it's last.

Butch and I (only ones with torches) decide to trek our way to where we expected to see a fallen deer. I'd taken my .22 - just in case. Just as well, because having a nosey at all the commotion was another enormous - and beautiful dark brown possum!  With a few rounds of the Papoose, I'd added another score to the tally.

Butch made quick work of gutting the deer - and the long and heavy task of carrying him through the bush and bog began.

Back at the jeep - the next hour or so was spent spotting - and shooting at the occasional deer that presented itself.  Jan managed to unload 4 shells of Buckshot at a deer only 30 meters away, but to no avail - even though we searched the bush for around 1/2 an hour looking for signs of a fallen or wounded beast.

Actually, two days later - the fingers of my left hand are still tingling from brushing against some Stinging Nettle from this adventure!

Heading back to where Jan shot our first beast - we entered the bush to look for the body.

Entering at the foot of a gully, we were instantly aware of the strong stench of wounded beast - and then - only a few meters away - he sprung into life and crashed away through the thick undergrowth - with three grown men - sporting only a .22 semi - following on his tail!

Having lost his track - we returned to the 4wd and waited for light to appear.

Once light enough, Jan and Butch headed off after the prey - armed with a 12 gauge with one in the chamber and three in the mag - and me at the bottom of the gully armed with the 30,03!

Erupting out of the silence, the 12 gauge boomed its announcement of success, and from only meters within the bush - out rolled the most beautiful trophy 11 pointer I'd ever seen.

Man, the deer are so polite in this area. I mean, you can shoot them, and two hours later they walk right down to a clearing, only meters away from the Jeep - and wait for you to collect them at daylight!

6am - and time to head back to the farm for some breakfast and sleep!

Garth quickly headed for the horizontal position, with Jan resisting until a blink turned into an hour. Realizing the beauty of the farm, and Garth's Trout Rod beckoning me to the stream - I grabbed both rod and rifle and headed for some more adventure. Sleep would come later!

Walking through the pines, I spotted four Magpies far in the distance. Encouraged by my 60 meter head shot the day before (was it only 12 hours ago!) I opened the bipods and lay in the prone position. Using my distance lines below the crosshairs, I estimated a distance of 120 meters. Stretching the accuracy of the Papoose, I lined up the verticals and placed them around 5 clicks above the largest bird - squeezed the trigger and waited around 2 seconds - only to hear that distinct 'thud' - and another Magpie spiraled to the ground!

Not a lot happening at the stream - but thoroughly loved casting and spinning in the fresh morning air - with a symphony of bird calls ringing throughout the gully.

Calling it a day, recharged and refreshed, I began the 10 minute walk back to the farm. On the ridge overlooking the river and marsh below - I spotted another group of Magpies far in the distance - around 175 meters away.

Now - I've never even aimed at a target this far with a .22 - let alone a short barreled semi. But, with my other two successful shots still fresh in my mind, no wind to affect ballistics, I again stretched out the bipods and practiced my breathing - lined up the verticals and allowed the maximum amount of milldots for distance and dropage.

The first subsonic whispered out of the suppressor, landing with a 'thip' in the water around two meters directly below the group of birds.

Oblivious to being stalked, the birds continued with what appeared to be a mating ritual - in a close huddle. Breathing again to control aim, I squeezed another round out of the chamber.

After a pause of around 4 seconds, a loud squeal and burst of feathers filled my field of view through the scopes!

Thinking that NO-BODY is going to believe this story - I took photos of the distance- an honest 175 meters!

Back to the farm, Garth finally awake and Jan still in the land of Nod, we loaded the Camaro with Venison steaks and salami - all courtesy of our wonderful host Butch, and settled in for the trek back home.

What a wonderful 24 hours!

Great friends (both old and new), great shooting and great results.

What could be better - sitting in the leather seat of a Camaro V8, friends around me who love and accept me for who I am (despite Jan introducing me to Butch and his wife as a 'Transvestite who puts on his dress and does his act one day a week from the stage' :-), they thought I was a Catholic priest! - rifle case stretched between the console, car boot full of meat - and my new camo pants (that I preached in the day before) stained down both legs with blood from two deer, a possum and a few Magpies!

In my books - that makes this about the best 24 hours I've ever lived.

I never want to wash my new camo pants again.

Roger