Wildside- Christmas Venison

Food on the table

© Zane Mirfin, Wildside Column, Food on the Table, Nelson Mail, 18 December 2010

On the quest for some Christmas venison.


Dinner provided: Blenheim GP Steve Young with Christmas venison. Photo: ZANE MIRFIN

In this modern world, life can get so busy. One thing I regret is never having enough time to do the really important things in life – like go deerstalking as often as I’d like.

To many people, deerstalking is perceived as barbaric but to those in the know, the chance to refresh your soul, challenge yourself against nature and put food on the family table is a wonderful Kiwi experience.

Late spring and early summer are always prime times to hunt red deer, venturing onto riverflats and slips. Last light and early mornings are the best times to score, when the deer are away from the sanctuary of the forest in search of food.

There’s nothing else like stalking around a dew-clad flat in the fuzzy morning light, with the dawn chorus in full throat, searching for that heart-pumping moment when a velvet stag or young hind steps into view.

My freezer was looking pretty empty with a real shortage of game meat and fish and the dismal prospect of a venison-less Christmas was looking like a very real possibility. The chance for a quick overnight trip midweek
offered hope when Blenheim GP Steve Young and I headed off for an evening stalk and fish.

The river was in great shape, low and clear, offering great hope for fishing the next day, and grass growth on the river flats was prolific with lush green growth promising to be a magnet to hungry deer. Best of all, there were a few deer prints along the way to our camp.

We were running a little late, so we abandoned our packs at a chosen campsite, grabbed rod and rifle, and headed to a great trout pool. In the dwindling light, Steve stayed to fish while I ducked through the bush to a clearing I knew.

Stalking quietly through lush grass and intermittent scrub and trees, the wind was in my favour, and I was sure tonight was the night.

I heard a clatter of hooves in a creek bed and an old hind chided me from the forest with loud staccato barks. Knowing that the game was up, I headed to another swampy creek that offered hope but alas no deer were in residence.

Heading back to the river in the gloom, I was just in time to see two deer on the other bank, out of range and heading pronto for the bush. Mirfin the blunder hunter had failed yet again.

Steve hadn’t had any luck either, with not a single rising fish showing itself, so we headed back to camp to pitch the tent in the dark and cook up some dinner while the river gurgled beside us.

Knowing we’d be hunting in the morning we didn’t light a camp fire. When you’re after venison, a fire is always the best way to scare every animal out of a valley, as my father wisely taught me as a boy.

Steve joined me for a morning hunt and it wasn’t long before we spied two red spikers in a scrubby clearing. Sneaking closer, the deer became agitated and it was now or never. Shooting freehand without a rest is never my favourite shot but the rifle was firm and the scope crosshairs steady. At the shot, one deer bolted for cover, but it didn’t matter as our Christmas venison supply was assured.

The American pioneers had a hunting saying that went something like ‘‘one shot meat, two shots maybe, three shots beans again for dinner’’. So it was satisfying to obtain our deer with one humane shot as the venison is
more tender, with no adrenalin laced through the meat.

Our animal was young and healthy and Steve was fascinated watching his first deer being field dressed and propping open the carcass to allow air to circulate and cool the meat. We left the deer in a shady spot to butcher later after fishing.

Fishing was fun and Steve caught some fine trout around 2.8kg but by late afternoon we figured we’d better get our gear, cut up our deer and head for home. Steve helped and we quickly removed two backsteaks, two forelegs, two back legs and two eyesteaks in that order. Deer are wonderful animals to cut up
with a distinctive, clean and pleasant scent.

As a single man I liked to salvage as much usable protein as I could from any shot deer taking heart, liver and kidneys, but these days you’d be a brave man to eat these as our public wild lands are heavily poisoned and these organs filter and concentrate toxins.

Soon we were on our way and Steve, 55, insisted on carrying all our meat in his pack while I carried most of the other gear plus rifle. It was a good walk out and by the time we got back to the truck for a cold fizzy drink we were both knackered. We had our Christmas venison but maybe it was a good thing we only got one deer