A little over twenty years ago, my growing hunting ambitions led me in the direction of deer. As a teenager I had chased rabbits and foxes over hill and dale, but it took a few decades before I became enthused (the wife would say obsessed) about hunting bigger game.
MY initial pursuit of fallow deer led me to the Clare Valley in South Australia, an area renowned for excellent wines but also a place where the fallow hunting is great.
My love affair with these deer hasn’t waned ever since.
I have lost track of how many days I have spent in the field chasing them, yet the memory of taking my first proper buck, on my first fallow expedition, still leaps to mind in graphic detail.
The stiff southerly breeze was biting cold in my face as I slowly traversed a series of ridges and gullies. The early-morning March sun wasn’t yet giving out much
