All the Gear and Finally Some Idea

The day before had already ticked the box. I’d managed to drop my first chamois on a solo mission, and I was happy. Everything after that was just a bonus. That evening, while I was talking with my friends and letting my legs rest, a couple of fresh faces wandered over - James and his father, Steve. 

They were up on the Coast as part of James’ Duke of Edinburgh Gold award. Not hunting, but they had permits in their back pockets and a keen interest in stretching their legs. My chamois head hanging outside must’ve caught their eye, and it didn’t take much for us to get talking. James had never taken a chamois, and they were keen to tag along the next morning. I wasn’t fussed - they were good guys, hunting with others makes for much easier photos, and the spot I’d been to the day before was one my injured leg could still handle. We made the pact that if another chamois presented itself, James would take the shot, but if it was a tahr, it was all mine. 

We set off before sun up, keen to catch the early movement. A bit of overnight rain had done us a favour, washing out our scent from the previous day. We started glassing from the valley floor at first light. Nothing moving yet, but I had a good feeling. 

We climbed up a familiar gut, not fast, just steady and quiet. The air was crisp. We got into position - higher than I’d been the day before - and not two minutes after settling in, Steve gave the whisper: “Tahr.” 

Three of them already in the zone. So much for patience. 

Learning the range the hard way 

Now, for anyone chasing animals in steep country, here’s something worth knowing: distance isn’t always what it seems. When you’re shooting up or down a hill, the bullet doesn’t act like you think it should. That’s where True Ballistic Range (TBR) comes in. It accounts for the shooting angle and tells you what the bullet actually ‘feels’ in terms of drop. 

Say you’re shooting 400 metres up a 40-degree slope. The TBR might only be 300 metres. If you dial for the full 400, you’ll shoot high and probably clean miss. That’s the difference between a clean kill and a head-scratcher. 

I’m running the Swarovski EL Range 32 binos, which spit out TBR info (they call it Angle Compensated Distance). They talk to the Swarovski Hunting App on my phone, which has my rifle and ammo data already loaded. I’ve kept it simple - just set it to show clicks for dial up. It's fast, easy, and accurate. I ranged the tahr at 284 metres, my longest shot to date. The binos told me 30 clicks. I was set. We had a good look at the group. One big old boy with a dark coat, one blonde medium-sized bull, and a younger one bringing up the rear. The big lad wasn’t giving us much to work with - wily and wary. So, I shifted the MTN Gear Mountain Bipod, found the blonde, and got set. Crosshairs on the chest. Adjusted slightly lower to allow for the uphill angle. Deep breath. Squeeze. 

The shot broke clean. I reloaded and watched the animal calmly walk off. No reaction. Nothing. It didn’t even seem to shudder. That threw me. I trusted the rifle and the round - a 152-grain .308 - but when an animal just strolls off like it didn’t happen, you start second-guessing. 

We grabbed our gear and climbed up to check. We searched the outcrop. Nothing. No blood, no hair, no sign. Just silence. I sat there, annoyed, thinking I’d clean missed - hard to swallow, but sometimes that’s hunting. 

Then Steve gave another whisper. Three more bulls, crossing the same gut but 150 metres higher. A real animal highway up there. We took off uphill to try and cut them off. By the time we reached a firing position, they were gone - slipped into the scrub and out of our lives. 

We stood on a rock, catching our breath and taking it all in, when I spotted something. A flicker of blonde in the riverbed below the outcrop we were on. My tahr. At the end of a heavy blood trail. Dead. Relief washed over me. 

Steep country and lessons in perspective 

The boulders were the size of cars and made judging distance tough. What looked like the right spot earlier had only been halfway there. If it weren’t for the second group of bulls drawing us higher, we might never have found the kill.  

This is where the Tracking Assistant on the EL Range binos comes into its own. When you range an animal, it saves the GPS position and syncs it to the app. After the shot, you can use a map or compass mode to find that exact point again. A handy bit of kit, especially when you’re trying to find game in broken or steep terrain. 

We got to work skinning the bull. It wasn’t a winter coat, but I didn’t care. Tahr had always been top of my list. Back when I was at uni, I researched them - how to raise them in captivity, how to farm them as meat animals. I’d dreamed of this hunt for years. 

By midday, we were back at camp. I rested the leg, scraped the hide, and waited for the rest of our group to return. That evening, we sat with others from the various parties travelling through, swapping stories over back steaks and talking about what matters: hunter-led conservation, respect for the hills, and doing our bit to look after the wild places we all love.