06/06/2026
THE JUNCTION HUNT - was an annual event organised by the Australian Deer Association. Location, the junction of the Wonnangatta and Moroka Rivers, in the heart of the Victorian Alps. Magical long weekend, hunting sambar during the day, and catching up with old friends around the fire at night. Maybe 30 years ago? Can't remember his surname but first name was John, a keen and experienced bow hunter from Dapto. Our plan was to backpack up the Moroka and hunt fresh country, away from the crowd. John had his bow and arrow, I had my Marlin .45/70 with a new red dot sight. First night camp was near the Carey Creek junction. I went to catch brown trout for dinner. While I was away, John found two buried kayak drums almost full of long life food. There was a note in one. Explaining that a couple of hunters had been stuck on the wrong side, by a fast overnight rise in the river. After a few days they ran out of food and found the hidden drums. They left a note with their contact details, so they could pay for what they used. Anyway! Next morning we're hunting up the creek. John on top of the high bank, me contouring along the creek edge. Wattle trees rattle fifty yards ahead, as a small mob of deer take off in every direction. A minute passes and a deer is directly above me, just her neck and head sticking out of the bracken fern. Up comes the rifle but she is moving her head, trying to spot what caused the alarm. A shot would be too risky. I bring the dot down to where her chest must be and fire. Lots of muzzle blast and recoil because I'm shooting hot handloads an ADA friend made for me. Can’t see any deer, have no idea where she went. John came over and the search started, but because so many deer had been up and down the bank recently there was no chance of tracking her. Also, no blood trail. But the shot felt good. We kept looking for maybe 45 minutes and finally gave up. Disappointed, we headed off up the creek. She was in the water at the first crossing 😊 We took back steaks and a leg, leaving her hanging from a tree with a piece of clothing attached to frighten the dingoes away. Back to main camp and lots of congratulations. Drew a map for anyone who wanted to go up the next day and bring back a pack load of venison. Into my sleeping bag early but woke up maybe an hour before dawn when I heard a car depart. Late morning next day. Disappointed hunters returning from Carey Creek - empty handed. The reason? Two blokes had walked up the river with big empty packs and head lamps on, in the night. Loaded up every edible part of the deer, walked back to camp, threw all their gear in the car and bailed.
