Dad , I beat you by 10

I’d just been told not to take the shot unless I was 100% sure I was going to make it count. And I was. We’d spent several hours getting into this location, waiting out the fog and getting set up comfortably. The rifle was resting on a pack against some scrub and it felt snug in my shoulder.

“I’ve got this” I repeated to myself this time, and as Dad had taught me, squeezed back gently on the trigger. The 270 roared.

“Is it down Dad, is it down?” I called.

“Mate, that’s a chamois down” Dad replied proudly. There were high fives and hugs all round as we celebrated my first big game animal, a majestic chamois from the mighty mountains of South Westland. simply couldn’t believe it! Dad had been 20 when he’d shot his first chamois – I was just 10!

A few weeks earlier,