Follow Erin Braun on a once-in-a-lifetime red stag hunt in Patagonia.
Miserable. Drenched. It didn’t matter what overly expensive, seam-sealed gear we were touting – we were soaked to the core. We crouched low to the rocky soil, half listening attentively for sign of red stag and half trying to shield our faces from the chilled, sideways rain that pelted us. A snapped twig or a faint roar is all it took; every minute of that miserable morning was worth it.