I don't comment, I don't know what I would do in his place, actually. It must be considered that Franco enjoys excellent support, great experience and a punctual and reliable technology of the highest level: the prerequisites for a shot like this are all there! While I keep an eye on the fusone, Franco's index touches the trigger corresponding to the 7x65R caliber of his splendid bergstutzen. The ball completes its intended parabola. The legs of the deer bend and then go to scratch the sky. The echo of the shot that echoes that of the thuds of the deer has not yet died out. Falling to the ground, the animal did not find a flat surface but steep rocks unable to stop its fall. From leap to leap it rolls down and then stops in the bed of a stream, in a deep and gravelly gully.
"Good Hunting! " I shake Franco's hand with deep admiration. As we look into each other's eyes, the shadow of the difficulties that await us softens our festive smiles. We empty the backpacks of all that is superfluous: only the reflex can not stay here. "We will go up this ridge, to then overcome two ups and downs, then we will arrive in the bed of the stream and we will go up to the point where the deer must have fallen”Franco explains to me. In words it seems tiring, but in fact it turns out to be a very hard path!
We move on almost vertical slopes, keeping the balance with the alpenstock. We pass some very “aerial” passages that literally make my legs tremble, walking on clusters of unstable and insidious stones. Once in the bed of the stream, Lea often retraces her steps to incite the clumsy bipeds to reach the spindle with her. We find her watching over the remains of the animal with the proud and serious expression that seems to mean "This is mine!". On the thorax of the deer you can see the entrance of the ball that broke the spine, as well as the signs of the fractures reported in the fall, which unfortunately also broke the stage.
Dragging the remains of the deer with the ropes, we retrace the road, equally treacherous, but made more tiring by fatigue and weight. At the sighting point we find Francesco waiting for us who (fortunately, I think selfishly!) Was unable to pick up the chamois garment assigned to him and welcomes our equipment in his backpack. The descent into the village is a light-hearted walk through green meadows and luxuriant woods, whose beauty I can admire in the full light of the midday sun. The ballast is heavy, the tiredness is great, yet I feel my legs light and I have an irrepressible vitality: it will be the good mountain air or, more likely, the effect of strong emotions shared with a great friend!