Hunting with Jon and Kayla | Part II

Part 2: The Estate

The first day is often about scoping out the Estate, and this gives Jon and Kayla a chance to see the sights and animals at Poronui, as Jon plans for his trophy Red.

Mark, their guide, points out the sights and animals: the deer, the horses at the stable, the hawks circling above the fields, the hobbit tucked away by a stream. The pheasants are in large numbers; the first drive of the season is happening this week, so the dinner table will soon have some fresh guests. He tells the story of how Wounded Poacher Road got its name (decades ago, he reminds us, “and he had to be helicoptered out…”).

We pass a tall shrub, and Mark plucks off a couple of red-green leaves, hands them around, tells us to chew them. They’re peppery, verdant, and slightly tongue-numbing. He explains that it’s horopito – a native plant, long used by indigenous Māori for a range of medicinal needs. “You can’t get that anywhere else in the world,” he says, and he’s right – there are things at Poronui, and in New Zealand, that you really can’t find anywhere else, or at least in this way: as part of a whole experience that is uniquely welcoming, and done with such care. Often Kayla is staring serenely out the window of the Polaris, contentedly breathing in the warm afternoon air.

It’s also rare to be able to hear the range of stories from visitors from around the world. I ask how Jon and Kayla got into hunting. Like so many hunters, it was something they were born into: their parents hunted for meat and for sport. They got to carrying a firearm on walks for protection from coyotes. They learned to cull critters and snakes. Rules were established around shooting ground versus tree squirrels. Some animals are target practice, some are meat, some need to be removed to protect pets and livestock. Rules vary state by state where they’re from, so you always have to be prepared. And taking a life was not done lightly or carelessly.

Every year, Jon goes to Colorado to hunt. It’s an 1800-mile drive, then a hike in. He talks about going for his first bull elk, the shot being frustratingly blocked by the dense rows of aspens. Or the time he and his dad shot a bull so large his dad could have ridden it like a horse. Or the “Three Day Bull” – an elk so big that they had to bone out the legs just to get the weight down, and even then it took them three days to get out and back to civilisation.

We spot Sika hinds with their mousey ears and short faces. Reds give us a warning bark before disappearing into thicker cover. With a large number of high SCI deer on the Estate at the moment, Jon has the opportunity to get a formidable animal in his sights.

Jon eyes up two in particular – one that’s been floating around the Lower Cut Over, towards the south of the estate, and another that’s been hanging around the eucalyptus.

Tomorrow, he tries his skill.