- Thread starter One Track
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el_vaquero
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Way to go!
Congrats there little lady, you done good.
Good job Brent getting this thing going, maybe I can get Meg out there one day, but until then ya'll keep at it, sounds like she's ready for a bear hunt.
Very cool indeed, took a lot of work on your part Julie, but you got it done and then stayed till the bottom of the ninth, and scored.
Good job Brent getting this thing going, maybe I can get Meg out there one day, but until then ya'll keep at it, sounds like she's ready for a bear hunt.
Very cool indeed, took a lot of work on your part Julie, but you got it done and then stayed till the bottom of the ninth, and scored.
THE ROMAN ARCHER
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NatureDriven
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Congratulations 8 Track! That is a beautiful hog.
bobcatman04
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very cool 8 track
Move over boys, 8 Track is here! Yes, you guessed it…I’m feeling pretty damn great at the moment. Where does one start? Six years ago when Brent went to his first Pig-O-Rama, got his first pig and fell in LOVE with Tejon Ranch. I remember thinking how crazy that sounded. Pigs in California? Go figure. It was actually about 5 months ago, when we were out on “date night” and you know, one too many glasses of wine and listening to all of his hunting stories. I was doing sooooo well at asking questions and being interested. So, to partake in the conversation, I said; “out of all the hunting you do, I could see me doing the pig one because I like camping.” Little did I know what was about to happen…he got that look on his face, the one you can’t say “no” to - like a little boy on the morning of Christmas. He wanted to book the March Pig O Rama the next day. All I had to do was get a hunting license. It’s funny, all of a sudden; I had a brand new rifle, hunting boots, and everything I needed for hunting. Amazing.
Well, I procrastinated as long as I could, but when he said he’d go to the class with me, I couldn’t resist. So, he went to the class with me, and I got my hunter safety card, and my license. I shot well at the firing range on Thursday, and we left for Tejon on Friday at 5am. When I look back now, it’s funny to think that I packed a few magazines, a book to read and a suduko book. All ready for sittin’ around the campfire and relaxing. Why didn’t someone warn me? We got there around 10AM, set up camp, and out we went, looking for those hogs. I thought they’d be easy to spot (right!). We drove, hiked, glassed, and scouted until dark. Not one pig in sight! Brent was tripping out. The ranch was completely torn up by the rooting hogs. But, it was 80 degrees and the hogs were not coming out. Then we went back to camp, where Brent made me a great steak dinner. However; someone left their hog carcasses behind and with the smell lingering around us, it was a little too much. When we set up camp, the wind was blowing a different direction, so we didn’t realize until we got back. We went to bed early to get away from the smell, when OneTrack rips one off and now I’m contemplating which smell is worse. Anyone that’s camped with him before knows EXACTLY what I’m saying.
Saturday: The anticipation! Bring it on! I’m ready! Brent said that we would see at least 30 pigs this morning and I would have my pick. Up and down those hills, looking and looking – my eyes were going batty. We did see two single hogs out in “no man’s land.” They were moving too quick to head them off. One was a huge boar with long teeth. I could see the tusks, thru my big 15’s on a tripod. Brent would set those up for me when we glassed. I enjoyed that. Other than those two hogs, we had nothing. Brent’s flying from glassing spot to glassing spot. He’d jump out of the truck, disappear into a canyon, only to come back shaking his head. He was pointing out all the places the hogs should have come out, and all the places he and his buddies have killed pigs before. Finally, around 11am Brent drops down into a canyon to check a bedding spot. Then, he gave me the wave, the one that meant I’d better hustle. I had to drop down a few hundred yards, down the steepest hill on earth. We got settled behind an oak tree. There was a black spot in the shade 213 yards away. I can’t believe he spotted this hog, because it was difficult to tell if it was a pig, or a log, or just a shadow. But, he knew. So, I got ready, breathed, took a shot and…….. missed. Damn!!! Eight or so hogs took off running. Brent wouldn’t let me shoot again, as the big one I shot at didn’t follow the others. That could have been the end of the story right there! We waited for a half hour and nothing else moved. Brent crossed through the canyon to check for blood. Nothing. The big one slipped out the bottom. So, for the rest of the day, when we ran into another hunter, all Brent could say was, “She missed one”. Man, that was irking me! But it also made me determined.
Saturday afternoon, we went to another part of the ranch, a steep part to say the least. We glassed for hours. We went to all his favorite spots where he’s killed stuff before, so he says. He was starting to get real serious. Finally, fifteen minutes before dark, Brent dropped over the side to look at some more area. Then, he came running back up the hill with that look on his face. It was GO TIME. He found a single hog a ½ mile down in a meadow. We got down there as fast as we could. We made it to 313 yards, but he wanted me at 200 yds. That hog made it around the corner and disappeared. Just then, we heard hogs squealing behind us, back up the mountain. Right where we were glassing fifteen minutes earlier stood a huge hog. I bet I would have won the jack-pot $ with that hog. But, it got dark on us. Back up the hill. I thought I was going to have a heart attack – Brent is like a mt. goat – straight up does not bother him. He was very patient and waited for me. The day was over, and we only spotted the two hogs that evening.
Sunday morning: No luck, nothing moving, it’s hot, it’s just not happening – frustration, anxiety, disappointment and “damn…why did I miss that one shot” thoughts go through my head. At noon, we packed up camp and headed out the gate. Brent was very quiet. But, I finally got to experience the “hunt” that he so passionately talks about. However, I was bummed that I didn’t get to finish the deal. I just couldn’t imagine what it must be like to recover the dead pig. Some of those areas are really gnarly and how the heck do you get them back to the truck in the dark? Before leaving town, we had lunch at the best Mexican restaurant in the world. My belly was full. I had a beer and I was feeling sleepy – ready to go home, defeated. We got in the truck to go home and Brent asked me if there was a chore around the house he could do for me if we could hunt the evening. (If we stayed, it meant getting home around midnight. We had people that had watched the kids ALL weekend, and I felt it was too much to impose that late of an hour on his sister.) I say, “No, I just want to go home.” We take the 5 South on ramp. All is quiet. I know Brent is dying inside.
We drive for a few minutes and the silence is broken. Brent says, “I’ll take the kids to school for you 3 days this week. I’ll get them up, get them dressed, and get them fed. You can sleep in.” Nice try, but NO is still my answer. I’ve lost, I’m done, take me home. But then I start to think about that shot I missed and how all I’ll be hearing about is “the one that I missed”. I can’t have that on my record. AND, the guy is willing to do anything…am I stupid or what? So, I said – what about taking the girls to school all 5 days next week, and you have to read that book “The 5 Love Languages,” (which is such a chick book.) Then, plan a “date night” and discuss the book with me. I’m really just saying all of that because I know the answer will be No and more negotiating will take place. Suddenly, he veers across three lanes and makes the next exit! Back to the ranch we go!!!. OK! So, we are both high 5’n and ready to get down to some serious business. Brent’s like a kid again.
I don’t take my eyes off the countryside. We hit a few spots, and nothing. With two hours of light left, we go to the spot where Nate killed a pig with his bow. We sat for two hours. It was cold and windy. (Now I’m wondering why I didn’t negotiate for more things – dang, its cold!). We wait and wait - nothing. It’s about 7:15 and there is no movement anywhere. Brent decides we need to drive the last fifteen minutes of light, so he could see some new area. I think both of us were feeling a little beaten down when… we see a shooting star, right in front of us. “Make a wish” he shouts. Literally within two seconds, Brent spots a pack of hogs down in a canyon. We jump out of the truck and sneak to the edge of the canyon. Brent puts his jacket over a barded wire fence for my rifle. I am so determined. I can’t begin to tell you. I wasn’t nervous one bit. “Come to momma, you little pig”. There was a big one that I was going to shoot. When I got the crosshairs on him, I was thinking “I’ve never hit a moving target and I’m not about to miss.” Just then, the big pig moved, but there was another smaller one behind him, just standing there. All the info they pushed in my brain at the hunter safety class, all the stuff Brent’s been telling me about where to aim on the pig was right there. I pulled the trigger, shot the pig and it went straight down. I’m not even sure if it squealed. Just one shot and it dropped. The best part, was the expression on Brent’s face. One of disbelief, his mouth dropped. It was a 186 yard shot. Wow, wow, wow. I was waiting for him to shoot as there were pigs still running around. But, he was so pumped, I don’t think he cared. We ran down to take a look. Brent took a 500 ft. spool of rope with him. We took some photos and then tied the rope around the hog’s neck. I headed back up the hill, tied the rope to the hitch, and pulled the hog up the hill. He gutted the hog, and we threw it in the truck. Pretty slick. We got back to the gate and it weighed in at 92 lbs. I was stoked, and everybody at the gate was really happy for me. Barbara was jumping up and down and gave me big hugs.
The best part about the whole experience was the drive home, listening to Brent tell his buddies how proud of me he was. You know how excited people are about their new baby – yep, he was talking about me with that same type of excitement. I really, really had a great time. As a busy mother, wife, part-time employee, I feel I never just “stop”. There was the one time when Brent went to look for blood and I was going to be left alone for an hour or so all by myself. I started to freak a little wondering what the heck I was going to do for an hour. I wanted to run back up to the truck to get a magazine or Something! How was I going to just sit there and do nothing? Within minutes, I breathed in the fresh air, looked around at the beautiful ranch, the green grass, the blue skies, and just fell in love with the solitude. Thanks to OneTrack, my husband, for making this trip the most that it could be. It was awesome! Love ya babe!
Well, I procrastinated as long as I could, but when he said he’d go to the class with me, I couldn’t resist. So, he went to the class with me, and I got my hunter safety card, and my license. I shot well at the firing range on Thursday, and we left for Tejon on Friday at 5am. When I look back now, it’s funny to think that I packed a few magazines, a book to read and a suduko book. All ready for sittin’ around the campfire and relaxing. Why didn’t someone warn me? We got there around 10AM, set up camp, and out we went, looking for those hogs. I thought they’d be easy to spot (right!). We drove, hiked, glassed, and scouted until dark. Not one pig in sight! Brent was tripping out. The ranch was completely torn up by the rooting hogs. But, it was 80 degrees and the hogs were not coming out. Then we went back to camp, where Brent made me a great steak dinner. However; someone left their hog carcasses behind and with the smell lingering around us, it was a little too much. When we set up camp, the wind was blowing a different direction, so we didn’t realize until we got back. We went to bed early to get away from the smell, when OneTrack rips one off and now I’m contemplating which smell is worse. Anyone that’s camped with him before knows EXACTLY what I’m saying.
Saturday: The anticipation! Bring it on! I’m ready! Brent said that we would see at least 30 pigs this morning and I would have my pick. Up and down those hills, looking and looking – my eyes were going batty. We did see two single hogs out in “no man’s land.” They were moving too quick to head them off. One was a huge boar with long teeth. I could see the tusks, thru my big 15’s on a tripod. Brent would set those up for me when we glassed. I enjoyed that. Other than those two hogs, we had nothing. Brent’s flying from glassing spot to glassing spot. He’d jump out of the truck, disappear into a canyon, only to come back shaking his head. He was pointing out all the places the hogs should have come out, and all the places he and his buddies have killed pigs before. Finally, around 11am Brent drops down into a canyon to check a bedding spot. Then, he gave me the wave, the one that meant I’d better hustle. I had to drop down a few hundred yards, down the steepest hill on earth. We got settled behind an oak tree. There was a black spot in the shade 213 yards away. I can’t believe he spotted this hog, because it was difficult to tell if it was a pig, or a log, or just a shadow. But, he knew. So, I got ready, breathed, took a shot and…….. missed. Damn!!! Eight or so hogs took off running. Brent wouldn’t let me shoot again, as the big one I shot at didn’t follow the others. That could have been the end of the story right there! We waited for a half hour and nothing else moved. Brent crossed through the canyon to check for blood. Nothing. The big one slipped out the bottom. So, for the rest of the day, when we ran into another hunter, all Brent could say was, “She missed one”. Man, that was irking me! But it also made me determined.
Saturday afternoon, we went to another part of the ranch, a steep part to say the least. We glassed for hours. We went to all his favorite spots where he’s killed stuff before, so he says. He was starting to get real serious. Finally, fifteen minutes before dark, Brent dropped over the side to look at some more area. Then, he came running back up the hill with that look on his face. It was GO TIME. He found a single hog a ½ mile down in a meadow. We got down there as fast as we could. We made it to 313 yards, but he wanted me at 200 yds. That hog made it around the corner and disappeared. Just then, we heard hogs squealing behind us, back up the mountain. Right where we were glassing fifteen minutes earlier stood a huge hog. I bet I would have won the jack-pot $ with that hog. But, it got dark on us. Back up the hill. I thought I was going to have a heart attack – Brent is like a mt. goat – straight up does not bother him. He was very patient and waited for me. The day was over, and we only spotted the two hogs that evening.
Sunday morning: No luck, nothing moving, it’s hot, it’s just not happening – frustration, anxiety, disappointment and “damn…why did I miss that one shot” thoughts go through my head. At noon, we packed up camp and headed out the gate. Brent was very quiet. But, I finally got to experience the “hunt” that he so passionately talks about. However, I was bummed that I didn’t get to finish the deal. I just couldn’t imagine what it must be like to recover the dead pig. Some of those areas are really gnarly and how the heck do you get them back to the truck in the dark? Before leaving town, we had lunch at the best Mexican restaurant in the world. My belly was full. I had a beer and I was feeling sleepy – ready to go home, defeated. We got in the truck to go home and Brent asked me if there was a chore around the house he could do for me if we could hunt the evening. (If we stayed, it meant getting home around midnight. We had people that had watched the kids ALL weekend, and I felt it was too much to impose that late of an hour on his sister.) I say, “No, I just want to go home.” We take the 5 South on ramp. All is quiet. I know Brent is dying inside.
We drive for a few minutes and the silence is broken. Brent says, “I’ll take the kids to school for you 3 days this week. I’ll get them up, get them dressed, and get them fed. You can sleep in.” Nice try, but NO is still my answer. I’ve lost, I’m done, take me home. But then I start to think about that shot I missed and how all I’ll be hearing about is “the one that I missed”. I can’t have that on my record. AND, the guy is willing to do anything…am I stupid or what? So, I said – what about taking the girls to school all 5 days next week, and you have to read that book “The 5 Love Languages,” (which is such a chick book.) Then, plan a “date night” and discuss the book with me. I’m really just saying all of that because I know the answer will be No and more negotiating will take place. Suddenly, he veers across three lanes and makes the next exit! Back to the ranch we go!!!. OK! So, we are both high 5’n and ready to get down to some serious business. Brent’s like a kid again.
I don’t take my eyes off the countryside. We hit a few spots, and nothing. With two hours of light left, we go to the spot where Nate killed a pig with his bow. We sat for two hours. It was cold and windy. (Now I’m wondering why I didn’t negotiate for more things – dang, its cold!). We wait and wait - nothing. It’s about 7:15 and there is no movement anywhere. Brent decides we need to drive the last fifteen minutes of light, so he could see some new area. I think both of us were feeling a little beaten down when… we see a shooting star, right in front of us. “Make a wish” he shouts. Literally within two seconds, Brent spots a pack of hogs down in a canyon. We jump out of the truck and sneak to the edge of the canyon. Brent puts his jacket over a barded wire fence for my rifle. I am so determined. I can’t begin to tell you. I wasn’t nervous one bit. “Come to momma, you little pig”. There was a big one that I was going to shoot. When I got the crosshairs on him, I was thinking “I’ve never hit a moving target and I’m not about to miss.” Just then, the big pig moved, but there was another smaller one behind him, just standing there. All the info they pushed in my brain at the hunter safety class, all the stuff Brent’s been telling me about where to aim on the pig was right there. I pulled the trigger, shot the pig and it went straight down. I’m not even sure if it squealed. Just one shot and it dropped. The best part, was the expression on Brent’s face. One of disbelief, his mouth dropped. It was a 186 yard shot. Wow, wow, wow. I was waiting for him to shoot as there were pigs still running around. But, he was so pumped, I don’t think he cared. We ran down to take a look. Brent took a 500 ft. spool of rope with him. We took some photos and then tied the rope around the hog’s neck. I headed back up the hill, tied the rope to the hitch, and pulled the hog up the hill. He gutted the hog, and we threw it in the truck. Pretty slick. We got back to the gate and it weighed in at 92 lbs. I was stoked, and everybody at the gate was really happy for me. Barbara was jumping up and down and gave me big hugs.
The best part about the whole experience was the drive home, listening to Brent tell his buddies how proud of me he was. You know how excited people are about their new baby – yep, he was talking about me with that same type of excitement. I really, really had a great time. As a busy mother, wife, part-time employee, I feel I never just “stop”. There was the one time when Brent went to look for blood and I was going to be left alone for an hour or so all by myself. I started to freak a little wondering what the heck I was going to do for an hour. I wanted to run back up to the truck to get a magazine or Something! How was I going to just sit there and do nothing? Within minutes, I breathed in the fresh air, looked around at the beautiful ranch, the green grass, the blue skies, and just fell in love with the solitude. Thanks to OneTrack, my husband, for making this trip the most that it could be. It was awesome! Love ya babe!
Holy crap Julie! All the storytellers on this site (myself included) got nuthin on you. Great story! I loved it. It was well written and I could totally feel your emotions. I'm really stoked for you.
I can just picture Brent's rig veering across 4 lanes of traffic at 80mph. By the way, just ask him who turned him to that book. It's a total chick read but I bet you both dig it.
So how did "8 Track" come about?
I can just picture Brent's rig veering across 4 lanes of traffic at 80mph. By the way, just ask him who turned him to that book. It's a total chick read but I bet you both dig it.
So how did "8 Track" come about?
YoungBlood
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Great story and hog. Congrats 8 Track!
BrysonHesperiaResort
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Oh my, that is the sweetest thing the two of you did, what a great great relationship you guys have. Makes me believe that those great relationships DO exist! Congratulations 8-Track and One Track! Very sweet.
Congrats on the pig too. NICE shot!
Congrats on the pig too. NICE shot!
One Track
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Thank you. I gotta chime in here.
It was hot. I couldn't find a pig to save my life. I was going nuts inside, but staying positive on the outside. It was a tough hunt, which is what makes it so sweet when you score.
The south ranch WAS 26 hogs for 75 hunters. So, pigs did get killed.
8 Track made an incredible 186 yard downhill shot. Her 150gr Fed Vital Shock entered high shoulder, and came out low on the other side, taking out lots of lung. The boar dropped in it's tracks on the side of a very steep canyon. To my amazement, it didn't roll down the hill. I was very stoked about that.
Compliments to my wife for sticking it out, toughing it out, and hitting a grand slam in the bottom of the ninth. This week is much sweeter than it could have been.
It was hot. I couldn't find a pig to save my life. I was going nuts inside, but staying positive on the outside. It was a tough hunt, which is what makes it so sweet when you score.
The south ranch WAS 26 hogs for 75 hunters. So, pigs did get killed.
8 Track made an incredible 186 yard downhill shot. Her 150gr Fed Vital Shock entered high shoulder, and came out low on the other side, taking out lots of lung. The boar dropped in it's tracks on the side of a very steep canyon. To my amazement, it didn't roll down the hill. I was very stoked about that.
Compliments to my wife for sticking it out, toughing it out, and hitting a grand slam in the bottom of the ninth. This week is much sweeter than it could have been.
