The binoculars are there, headlamp taken, chocolate, nuts and alpenstock… everything is ready, I can't wait to leave! The Hanoverian Lea's tail moves the air in its excited tail wagging. I am at the foot of Mount Zoncolan, in the middle of Carnia, a guest of my friend Franco on the occasion of the opening to the deer. We are at the end of a summer so hot that it will remain in history, but here the heat that still torments Italy manifests itself with a nice weekend of sun and warmth, so rare in these latitudes!
With the exit in Ciampei marked on the notice board, we drive a bit further by car, before setting off on foot. The climb starts already steep, and soon our path enters the fir forest. Lea precedes us by a few meters, I follow Franco while the August full moon peeps through the trees, illuminating our soft footsteps.
On the other side of the mountain at the same time Francesco, Franco's partner, is climbing: he has been walking for more than an hour, since he is headed for the highest rock ridge that dominates the amphitheater of the hunting area.
Shortly before arriving at the observation point we stop to change clothes soaked in the sweat of the climb and cover ourselves. Up here there is wind and a much more alpine temperature than at the bottom of the valley! We place the backpacks under a fir tree and begin to scan the horizon. "In the previous days we have seen numerous chamois in the meadows up there"Franco explains to me in a very low voice,"Francesco is positioning himself on those rock ridges, in order to dominate them from above. The chamois expects to be attacked from below, his is an excellent strategy ... let's hope he can identify the garment assigned to him!".
While speaking to me in a very low voice, Franco scans with binoculars the lower terraces on the ridge in front of us "Deer prefer those meadows further down, next to the waterfall, where it is cool and humid". I too start to observe that point, but not even the shadow of animals. "Probably the full moon last night has altered the rhythm of the pastures a little"I observe,"Of course, it's very likely, so we don't see any yet, but trust me Vincenzo, here there are animals all right, let's wait a few minutes and you'll see".
In front of us, far away and invisible to the naked eye, is Francesco, at the top of the mountain crest. An SMS from him makes us aware of his situation "Herd of chamois in front of me, from your position they are not visible, I'm looking for the female, good luck!". While Franco puts the phone back in his pocket, his formidable eye catches something interesting and he almost petrifies. He points with the binoculars and exclaims "A fusone! It's in the plan! ". I imitate him, but I don't immediately identify the animal.
Following its coordinates I go back to the point where he spotted the deer and I realize with admiration that only a portion of the rear is visible, the head with the short stage peeps among the alpine alders between one step and another while grazing. "How strange he is alone, I would have expected to see him with a girl and a baby!”Franco whispers to himself. "Now it's like a postcard, but it's 580 meters from here! Do you plan to approach him?"I observe. "Well, if he continues to graze moving in that direction he ends up straight in Francesco's area, let's wait a moment longer”Says Franco. But the deer doesn't move. He seems to have found something to his liking in those bushes.
The minutes pass and Franco's face becomes more and more concentrated and expressive, I understand that a decision is maturing. A few seconds later I have confirmation: "Here we go!". Lea follows us with light steps, every now and then I turn to check that there is so much she is silent. We walked uphill for a while, gaining a hundred meters. We cannot proceed further, we would risk being seen by the deer. Franco puts his backpack on a large stone, puts down the rifle and lies down. The binotelemeter marks 426 meters. "For me it would be an extreme shot", I think. "I have rarely made such long shots"Franco echoes, his voice imperceptible, tinged with emotion. But in his eyes I read determination and coolness. This is the key moment. "I have to correct by 40 centimeters”Franco tells me with an expression between perplexed and intriguing, after consulting the rangefinder. FOLLOWS