The magic of the Aosta Valley, where eagles, bearded vultures, chamois and ibexes dare. All the charm of the mountains enclosed in this valley bordering the Gran Paradiso Park
It was mid-September when my friend Luigi called me to ask me if I was pleased to hunt chamois in his reserve in Val d'Aosta. Clearly I accepted the invitation with enthusiasm so we agreed for the weekend of 21 and 22 November, the period of maximum love activity of the chamois. On the evening of November 20, I arrive at Rhemes Notre Dame, and precisely in the small hamlet of Pellaud; here my host Luigi awaits me, with his son Leone, from Turin, the concessionaire of the splendid reserve where I am about to hunt. Upon my arrival, they had already turned on the fireplace and wood stove as well as the heating.
Already entering the house you could breathe the smell of hunting and of the mountains with many chamois trophies, hunting pictures and an ibex trophy (strictly the result of a discovery), which enriched the walls: each of these trophies has its own history and is indelibly imprinted in the memory of those who took it. Around eight in the evening the gamekeepers arrive and will accompany us the next day. The head guard Noel who will go with Luigi to the bottom of the valley and Emilio who will come with me and Leone to an area called Felumaz: meet at eight in Lor. We speak, of course, of chamois, of the need to complete the slaughter plan, of the rules and laws governing hunting that are often incomprehensible to us hunters.
The speech falls, almost inevitably, on the ibex and on the prohibition of sampling considered by the most now anachronistic. After a good dinner we fix the details for the next morning's appointment. At eight o'clock, on time, Emilio waits for us in the fixed place; we still drive a couple of kilometers and stop near a hut where the road ends. Already from the car we see the first chamois, a young male intent on grazing a little below us. Leone and Emilio decide to follow the path to enter a valley where they believe there is an important herd of chamois. After about half an hour of walking, thanks to the splendid day, the sun begins to warm us and we soon find ourselves walking in our shirt: during one of these stops for the "striptease", an eagle flies over us at no more than twenty meters high, and we are once again conquered by the grandeur and beauty of the winged predator. A few more minutes of climbing and we see the first chamois on our left: they are about four hundred meters away; among them there is an old female with one horn, well known to our companion, but they are very distant and for now unapproachable. And then we are looking for, possibly, a trophy male. I am fascinated by the territory: the valley is narrow and steep, the mountains loom over us and the opposite side seems a few hundred meters away. We are on the left hydrographic side, while the right side is inside the Gran Paradiso Park; the reserve is located above an altitude of 2.000 meters and is practically devoid of vegetation, apart from a few small woods and a few mountain pines. We leave the path, cross a clean meadow with no shelters and, almost arrived at the pass, we stop for five minutes to catch our breath before looking out over the valley below. The chamois may be very close and, as a result, it may be necessary to shoot without delay. Belly to the ground we walk the last few meters: we immediately see some items, but they are definitely far away. Having verified that we do not have any animals within range, we dedicate ourselves to observing the valley; we find ourselves in front of an amphitheater with a stony ground in the center where various heads graze: they are mainly females and young. Further on there is a young male who turns and runs around other females, but is immediately chased away by a much more imposing male. We observe, in all, three distinct groups of chamois and some more or less young males who get busy running and chasing each other. A superb ibex also arrives that crosses the stony ground and proceeds calmly on its way. From our position, however, it is impossible to both shoot and get close, so we decide to go back to try to get closer by going around a hill and following a channel that should take us within range of the chamois below, those in the stony ground.
The alpine environment is particularly harsh and difficult. In order to have a safe shot it is often necessary to travel a long way moving in a steep and full of pitfalls territory
The circumvention involves a passage on the frozen snow which for me, as a citizen, causes some difficulties, despite the help of my faithful stick; it is a diagonal of a few meters, but they are really vertical. Leone provides with his ice ax to create steps that help me overcome this obstacle. With great caution, after about an hour, we arrive at the rocks and begin to study the animals which at this point are about two hundred meters from us; unfortunately we do not see any males that can be taken, they are all three or four years old. When we were now studying how to approach two other chamois on the other side of the amphitheater, a handsome mature male arrives who stops 250 meters from us, but gives us just the time to evaluate him and disappears retracing the road where he had come. Since it is now two in the afternoon, we decide to take a break, find a place in the sun and, eating a sandwich, we comment on the animals observed so far, preparing the hunting strategy for the afternoon. After about half an hour we start hunting again: we observe the chamois that surround us, but the situation is the same as before the break; perhaps there is a handsome male in a group at the left end of the amphitheater, but it takes too long to approach him. So we decide, as we previously planned, to go back while maintaining the altitude, in order to approach the herd of the female with only one horn. We cautiously move away from our position trying not to alarm the animals around us by taking a path that allows us to stay at high altitude. After about five hundred meters, after a curve, a superb male appears about a hundred meters below us, seeing us and walking away. Immediately, both Leone and Emilio urge me to shoot, but the male disappears on our left; we run for another hundred meters and a gully of meadow opens in front of us that the chamois will have to cross to reach the tops of the mountains. We place my backpack on top of Leone's, so as to allow me to shoot while sitting and, after a moment, the chamois appears and begins to climb the gully. A quick measurement with the rangefinder tells us that the wild is about 180 meters; I support my old Blaser R850 in 6 × 62 Freres caliber, I frame it in the reticle of the Swarovski Z6 2-12 × 50, I wait for it to show me its side, and then I squeeze the trigger: the animal falls on the shot, tumbles for a few meters and stops. To be safe, I throw a second shot: the chamois is now dead on the spot. Emilio takes care of the recovery: it is an impossible lawn, almost vertical, but he goes down as if he were in the town square; meanwhile, Leone and I arrive in a grove that we use to facilitate the descent. When we reach the anschuss, Emilio is waiting for us calmly: he has already cleaned his head. It is a seven-year-old male, very handsome by local standards, where the high altitudes do not allow the development of exceptional trophies. We take the usual photos and go back to the car. I am very happy with the hunting day which ended in the best way. The only regret, perhaps, is to have seen only very distant ibexes without being able to take good photographs. Once home in the dark, we are preparing to carry out the biometric measurements to complete the killing sheet: while we are intent on the operation, a fox arrives very interested in our chamois; it will be difficult to dissuade her from the easy bite. Keep going around it and, anyway, get Leo a piece of bread. Meanwhile Luigi arrives who has also taken a male. In the evening Luigi's brother and his wife come to dinner. Let's talk about the day just ended: the brother took two chamois, a male and a female. For the next day they decide that Leone will go out with the gamekeeper Marco, while I will accompany Luigi and Noel to the valley floor, on the border with the Park.
The last day of hunting is, almost always, the one that holds the best surprises
The next morning, free of the rifle, I wear my Nikon D300 with an 80-400VR telehandler around my neck: I hope to take those photos that I didn't have the opportunity to take yesterday. And I am soon rewarded: we find an ibex of about ten years old lying near the path that can be photographed in all poses; it has two ear tags that surely serve to identify it. Then he gets bored and leaves. We continue on the path going up slightly in altitude. A chamois sees us and quickly moves away towards the mountain peaks. We continue and arrive at an old stable of which only the lower part remains, a stone enclosure one meter and sixty high: we enter and begin to look around with binoculars. Behind us an eagle appears which, after a short turn, disappears with the same speed with which it had arrived. In front of us there is a chamois that Noel, after having observed it with the long, says to be a male of four, maximum five years, quite scarce and with a very tight trophy; it might be a good pick pick but the distance is over 400 meters. We locate some rocks about halfway and, with caution, we try to approach them; after a few minutes we position ourselves in the chosen place 160 meters away from the animal. While Luigi is looking for a good support for the rifle, the chamois decides to lie down on a small grassy shelf between the rocks and so begins the wait. We see a fox that, suspicious, slowly moves away, quickly going out of range. Then a young bearded vulture arrives who, before settling on a ledge, whirls over our heads, being admired in all its majesty. We turn and, behind us, about 300 meters away, an old ibex appears and continues on its way; then, observing the peaks that overlook us, we see other ibexes looking out, as if to observe us. The wait, interrupted by these pleasant observations, lasts about forty minutes; then, finally, the chamois decides it's time to get up. Luigi waits for the best moment and when he presents himself perfectly to the side, he hits it on the shoulder. The chamois turns and dies instantly starting to tumble towards the bottom of the valley. We reach him soon: we take the photos and the Gamekeeper guts him; then we call Leo who tells us he got an old female. The plan, for this year, is practically completed. So we go home satisfied. I greet everyone, I get in the car towards Florence, not before having stocked up on the original Fontina cheese from Valle d'Aosta. I sincerely thank my friends who allowed me to live this unforgettable experience for my first hunt in the fantastic mountains of Val D'Aosta.
Text and photos by Saverio Patrizi
… Read the article in Pdf format taken from BALL HUNT N ° 2/2010