
Three days, six thousand acres, and a freezer full of meat you actually met.
and never met one. No barcode, no plastic wrap, no fluoro lights. Three days out where your dinner still has an opinion about it.
You'll be gutting something at two in the morning and back out after a short sleep. That's the trip, not a warning.
This one is set up so you don't. Known country, three of us on it, and spotlighting off the ute. You'll go home with months of meat and know how to do the lot again on your own.
Friday arvo through Sunday night, an hour inland of Tenterfield. A driver and two guides. Rifles, unlimited ammo, every meal, firewood, ice and knives all sorted. You bring a sleeping bag and the biggest esky you own.
You'll be taught to handle a rifle properly, shown how to zero it and where the shot goes, and then you'll use it. After that comes the part nobody else lets you do. You gut it, you skin it, you hang it, and on Sunday you break it down yourself with every cut named as it comes off.
Small groups only. We'd rather knock people back than run it badly.
If you want a lodge, a chef and a hot towel, this is the wrong weekend. If you've never held a rifle, that's fine and we'll teach you. If you've been hunting twenty years and just want a good block to shoot on, you'll probably find us slow.
Nearly all of it is already sorted. Two things matter, and then there's the usual.
Two if you've got them. We're confident we can fill it with deer and roo, so this is the thing worth borrowing off a mate. Ice is covered. It goes home chilled, not frozen, so leave room for it.
01A sleeping bag if you've got one. If you haven't, a doona and a blanket does the same job and nobody's checking. Bring your own pillow, you'll want it.
02Rifles, unlimited ammo, every meal, firewood, ice, knives, sharpeners, ear plugs, mattresses and water. Don't bring cash, there's nothing to spend it on.
The crinkly rain shell. They hear it well before they see you. Dull colours beat bright, but camo isn't required.
Nothing. Drink if you want to, don't if you don't. Matt and Leif are both off it, so there's no pressure either way.
Rough shape, not a schedule. It all bends around where the animals are and how much work is hanging on the rail.
Roll out early afternoon. If you're coming from further afield we meet at the Tenterfield IGA carpark and convoy the last hour in. Gates, hut, bags dropped, fire lit, no unpacking ceremony.
Last light is rifles out: safety, zeroing, shot placement, then the plate rack and the gong until you're actually hitting what you're aiming at. Then the first spotlight run off the back of the ute. Whatever's down gets skinned and hung before anyone sleeps.
Nobody sets an alarm, you'll have earned it. The day is yours: the gongs and the plate rack set out at whatever distances you fancy, a good long session getting your eye in, a swim if the mood strikes, and a drive around the block to see what's on it.
Dusk is a stalk on foot into the wind. Dark is the main game: spotlighting, calling, working the paddocks and the scrub. Then hunt, gut, load, skin, hang, repeat. This is the night that earns the weekend.
Everything comes out of the cool room and onto the bench. You break it all down yourself, every cut named as it comes off: backstraps, rumps, shoulders, shanks, ribs, mince.
Cryovac what's worth it, bag the rest, ice the eskies, clean the hut properly. Roll out late arvo. You'll get home late and sleep like the dead.
The bloke who owns this country is in his seventies with a war story for every hour of the day, and he's rough around the edges. So is his hunting hut. That's a feature, not an apology.
Big open one, inside, and it heats the whole hut. Where you'll end up at 3am with blood still on your hands, telling lies about the shot you missed.
Rough, but it runs hot. There's a portable one in the truck as backup. You will still be filthy and that's fine.
Flushes and everything. No shovel, no long drop. Or go bush if that's your thing, it's six thousand acres.
Carcasses hang overnight, go into the cool room, and come out Sunday for the break down. This is the bit that makes the meat good.
The hut runs off solar and there's a solar bank coming for phones and head torches. Bring your own cords.
Mattresses are coming for the boys. Two tents in the truck if you'd genuinely rather, but you wouldn't.
There are a couple of spots on the property that scrape a bar if something genuinely goes wrong, and that's exactly what they're for. Tell whoever needs to know you're gone Friday arvo until Sunday night, then put the thing in your pocket and leave it there. It's most of the point.
Unlimited ammo, and you'll shoot all of it if you want to. Before anything gets pointed at something with a pulse you'll be walked through the safety, how to zero, and exactly where the shot goes. That briefing happens by the fire, not on a website.
Flat, forgiving and easy to shoot well. The one you'll be handed first if you've never done this.
DeerThe old reliable. Does everything and has done for seventy years. There are a couple on the rack.
Deer · PigLight and quiet. Roos, goats, foxes, and anything that doesn't need the big stuff.
Small gameA plate rack and a gong, set out Saturday at whatever distances you fancy. Most of the weekend's arguments get settled here.
All dayThe Epstein target is a classic and it's coming back. But it's BYO villain, so send through whoever you want printed and taped to a post.
An ex. Your boss. A bloke who owes you money. A mate who said he'd come and then didn't. It gets printed, it gets stapled up, and it gets absolutely flogged. Photos on request.
Twelve volumes on the animal and the craft. None of it is homework, all of it makes the weekend better. Pull one off the shelf.
Small groups, by application. Tell us who you are and what you're after.
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