Use_Enough_Gun
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Snap!...that sure wasn't me!!! Wasn't Deedy...hmmm...I'm SURE I heard it. My hearing isn't all that great (huh?)...Well, I s'pose that hanging around flight decks and jet engines for about 20 years will do that to a fella but I KNOW I heard something back behind us...and yet...I'm sure I heard something back there...
I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself...since this day started about 17 hours earlier down in San Diego. I've been pumped about this trip since late April when it was in the planning stages. I don't know about you, but I'm at the stage where I enjoy the planning almost as much as the hunt...and the hunting as much at "the take"...but I digress...
I picked up my buddy, and after a bit of a frantic packing of the gear we were off! If you're a skier you know the feeling you get when that chair-lift sweeps you up off the "launching pad" the first time? For me it's the exhilaration of heading off to a great and unknown adventure and all that goes with it.
The trip was pretty uneventful except for the unfortunate decision to take 5 instead of 101 (L.A. traffic was more clotted than the aorta of the circus fat lady) which reminds me of our brief breakfast stop at the bottom (north) side of Tejon pass. Funny how one event leads to the next. If you like cheeze whiz on your omelet I'd HIGHLY recommend this place. Otherwise you might look for a local grease spot with a "B" in the window. It would be a step up for sure. There I go...digressing again...
After a few "hey I think that was our turn back there" moments we finally arrived at Bryson-Hesperia resort. As a first timer (and sure to return) I can say that it's a great camp and the staff (Shelley, Danny, Karin and not the least Deedy!) did and outstanding job in every aspect that can make or break a trip. The cabins are comfy, plenty of room for three...four could be done as well but it would be tough losing that draw and having to sleep in the closet. Just kidding. The sofa makes a great "light leak test" platform.
Although it was hot enough to fry satan's bacon the units have industrial sized a/c pumps and being hot was never an issue. The gas from the Bush's baked bean however WAS an issue...but since I threw the food for the trip I guess I'll plead guilty and ask the mercy of the court.
So...about 15 minutes after unloading our stuff and getting settled in, we're walking from our unit down to the "office" (which by the way has a computer and land-lines that are available 24/7-no
cell phone coverage there) and walking up is this tall lanky blond...and she's gonna kill me for saying this...but with the prettiest eyes of any hunting guide you'll ever meet...puts out her hand and says "Hey, I'm Deedy...and I'm gonna help you guys whack some pigs"...or something to that effect. I like it!
To those of you who've been here you know...and to those that haven't, Deedy has such an intense focus on and sincere interest in 1) getting you onto the pigs 2) making sure that you have what you need 3) making you feel right at home (hospitality PLUS!) and if I didn't mention it before...getting you onto the pigs.
Of course in hindsight I suppose conditions would have been better if we'd gone up a month ago...but you have to take what you can get (or make).
The moon phase was just waxing on the 27th (date of arrival) and would be full on the 30th. Combined with it being so hot that the trees are whistling for the dogs and so dry that the pigs are farting dust and you know (or learn) that the already nocturnal Sus scrofa will be in bed early and lay up until it's nice and cool. One exception was the 300 + lb toad that we saw in the barley at about 0600-well after sunrise. He moved off but was still up out a half hour later...disappearing as a dot on the horizon. Big risk for a big pig...another indication that the conditions are tough.
So...we introduce ourselves and discuss a game plan for the day(s) to follow. We'll begin by meeting up with Tom Willoughby at around 1900. We may need to kick some brush to get the hogs to show themselves and having the ability to split up raises the odds a bit. In any case we've got a few hours to "chill"...which I did by eating few hot chilies.
Did I mention that it was hot?
Around 1700 or so I began to get my gear together...lemme see...backpack with my hunting kit (first aid, bug stuff, sunscreen, dressing kit, game bags, flashlight, water, food bars...etc.) Pulled the rifle out of the scabbard just to re-check the magazine (empty), scope covers okay...cycle the bolt. Check. Now...time to load up my cartridge belts. Got my ammo in my shooing kit along with a range finder, glass, some targets (just in case I need to re-zero), ear protection, shooting glasses and so on.
"Hey Jeff...you unload my shooting bag?". "Nope...haven't seen it." "You sure?" "Yep...I'm sure..."
Crikey! Worked up custom loads for weeks for this trip (25-06 shooting Barnes 115 gr 3X's) and of course had my brush gun ammo (Garret Hardcast 415 gr 45/70) and my .17 HMR varmint ammo in there
as well.
THUD...
That's the sound of my morale hitting the deck at about mach 3...high noon...no chance of a shadow. Okay...4 minutes and 37 seconds of pity party...and then into gear to solve the problem.
Readers Digest version: After a somewhat foggy mental review I was SURE that the bag was loaded in my car. Convinced of that, I talked AAA of SoCal into letting a neighbor of Jeff's stand by while a locksmith opened the car. Bag (black) on the floor behind the back seat. Must have been overlooked in the pre-dawn shamozzle of the loadex. In any case it WAS there! Called to another buddy who was coming up the next day (flying to Paso Robles). Hero that he is...he ran over to "rescue" the bag, load it up and
deliver it along with his own bad self. Problem solved.
Of course I never heard about THAT again...probably never will...ever.
"GOT AMMO?" "Got yer hat?" "Got money?" "Got (fill in the blank)?" Ahhh...the joys of having true bro's....
Okay...now I know where the ammo is and when it's going to arrive but what to do for tonight? Again...elevating himself to SUPER hero status my bro Jeff volunteered to take one for the
team and loan me his "back-up rifle". A D'Arcy Echols prepped Winchester Model 70 in 300 WinMag. For those of you who don't know of him...he's an absolutely brilliant perfectionist of a gunsmith.
He builds first for function and having a rifle in which you are 100% confident helps in the field immensely. Also gives you NO EXCUSES or chances for a mulligan. It really is that good.
In any case...I was first in the rotation for a hog (we swap off every time we're in the field until somebody takes one) so Jeff wanted for me to have the best chance. BTW, we were shooting
200 grain Nosler partitions. That's a whacker.
Luckily Deedy had a "camp rifle"...a nice little Remington .308 carbine bolt rifle. Did I mention that I'm left handed? As is Jeff? Like I said, the man took one for the team
when he volunteered for me to use his rifle...super hero!
I'm sure that like most outfitters, Deedy wanted to know what kind of hunters we were and how/if we could shoot. Jeff and Deedy headed up to her "range" and step off about 150 yards.
He puts the first (only) round about an inch outside the dead center of the target. Good enough...
Now, being the gentleman that I am...I'm not going to mention AT ALL the fact that some of the people in my hunting party MIGHT be considered rifle snobs. No sir...in no way am I going to name
names.
But Deedy might chime in with her account of the session at the range. Frickin' hilarious...
So, as the drama ebbed my spirits once again rose and at 1830 we were geared up and off to meet Tom. We drove to a lease just off the state highway, through a gate and up to our rendezvous. Now it's not that hot...once the temperature drops below 95, you feel a bit chilly up here. Cows aren't yet squeezing out evaporated milk but it IS dry. Did I mention hot and dry yet?
We formulate a game plan to have us at the top of some brush where the hogs are likely to be bedded up. It's early enough that we kick the brush and still head out to another area if we don't see
anything and we didn't. Time for Plan B. Jeff and Tom head for the barley fields. Deedy and I stay on the lease that we're on and head down a bit to where there's been some nocturnal traffic on the game cams.
It's about an hour until sunset so plenty of time to walk in, scope out the lay of the land, check the wind and get brushed up. Ah...the wind. Sure way to be busted by pigs.
Make some noise...you might get lucky...be in the line of sight and if you don't move (too much) you'll probably be okay. But one little sniff...and it could be from WAY far away...and you're busted.
So, we stealth our way into some low scrub oak and check the shooting lanes. Not ideal but it never is...is it? I know...shoulda been here YESTERDAY... Now it's whisper time. The hogs are probably going to come up from the valley and head over to the lakeside behind us. The dead fall around us is pretty light but there are some
wide open little dells that provide a good route for a game trail. There are a few here...used by a lot of critters for sure but there's sign that the pigs use them quite a bit. I'm better shooting from a seated position that I am kneeling and there's not enough room to use sticks since the brush in the shooting lanes offers only about 4-5 feet of overhead.
There are a few of these little clearings in this area and we begin to do what most hunters do...which is second guess our spot. C'mon now...fess up. Once you're in the spot...although you've scouted and planned...things do change. In this case it's the wind.
These clearings are generally low little "valleys" between two rises. The vegetation is on the top of the rise which is oriented up/down slope. The one we sat at was "U" shaped at the bottom and transitioned from really thick brush and a very steep hillside below. That's about 45 degrees relative from where we're sitting...down to our right about 75 yards or so. We're on the side of the little dell, facing east southeast. Wind is northeast...wait...it's east. No, it's west...now it's northeast again. Breeze really...not wind...but it's there.
Now it's about 15 minutes before sunset and we decide to move up the valley just a bit. There's a small oak and scrub about 30 yards uphill from us and gives me a much better look at the clear area. The light is going to be a challenge. We move. Quietly...
Now...we just sit. Amazing what you can hear when you do. Not the least of which are the ski boats over on lake San Antonio. It's a few miles away over the rise that's about 80 yards above and behind us to our left. About 135 degrees relative...
All your senses go keen. It's my favorite part about being out there...except to discover that the ringing in my ears is more distracting than it has been in years. But even that seems to wane with time...
Sunset is a 2025 local. Nothing moves but the wind.
Now I've decided that a kneeling shot would be best from this angle so I S L O W L Y reposition myself to a left knee down/right up position...and wait. Deedy is crouched looking hard with the glass. She's about 10 o'clock relative to me slightly downslope about 3 feet lateral distance. Dead calm. Not bad...not good. But calm. I quietly mouth a whisper..."Wouldn't it be funny if they came up behind us?" We both have a mini snicker and it's back to scanning.
Now it's about 2045 and it looks like that's going to be it. We're on the lee side of the hill and have been in shadow almost from the time we arrived. Down slope is getting pretty dark but I've got good glass and can still pick through the brush pretty good.
Oh well...we've got a few days ahead of us. Now I run through the "That's why they call it hunting" platitudes and yet I know these critters only move late.
Snap!...again...that sure wasn't me!!! Wasn't Deedy...hmmm...but I'm SURE I heard it. "Uurnt"...snort...grunt...whatever you want to call it...I heard 'em.
Slowly my eyes go full against the gimbals left. Neck follows. 50 degrees I begin to pick them up in the peripheral vision. About 90 degrees I know there's more than one. 135 degrees and all I see are silhouettes. About 15...maybe more, maybe less...but probably more. They're on a slow mosey BEHIND us. Nothing but silhouette now...and about 3 minutes of legal light remaining. All I can say is to mouth/whisper "pigs!". Now...I see a wet sow, a few weaners, maybe a shoat or two...a pretty good sized boar and one fat sow. Of course at the time I didn't know she was a sow...just that this one broke out of the pack a bit to left of the others.
She stopped. Grunt...root...move a few steps. Now...here's the comedy of it. I'm trying to communicate with Deedy. She doesn't dare move more than her head. She's whispering but it's she's facing away from me and downhill (can't do anything about our setup now) and since I've turned she's now on the side of my worst ear. I'm hearing something...trying to understand what she sees and if she wants me to pick a certain hog. But all I can hear is a whisper...can't make out the words.
Big pig on the left is facing me...somewhat oblique with the left shoulder leading. Getting dark. Boar is mixed in the pack and I can't make him out that well. They're off the skyline now and closing slowly to about 40 yards. Funny what you notice at these times. First is that the breeze has shifted and is blowing like wind now...about 10 knots directly in our face. Gave me confidence that they probably didn't smell us. But they did know something was there...
Secondly...I had to swing my barrel about 135 degrees and go from a kneeling position to a reverse sumo squat and my left leg began to do a little "sewing machine" shake. Not nerves...just adrenaline. Steady now boy-o...
I don't think I could have held this for more than 15 seconds on a $100 bet...but in this case I was there for at least a minute. Finally...I heard someone (I wonder who!) whisper rather emphatically..."pick one!"
I had what turned out to be this fat sow in the cross hairs for about 45 seconds...(I shoot with both eyes open) while scanning the others. Finally with about 2 minutes of light remaining she turned so that she was about facing about 70 degrees oblique to her right. I put the cross hairs in the front/bottom third where I imagined the shoulder would be and lit one off and racked in a fresh one.
Mind you, the muzzle blast from this thing is impressive...about 18 inches of blue flame...but I didn't even see it. Nor did I feel the recoil. I hit that pig hard and square with a 200 grain partition and she took that little hop, squealed like a shot pig (of all things) and blasted off into the woods uphill.
I cracked off a follow up but it was just a hail Mary shot. Next thing I hear is Deedy...absolutely PUMPED about the entire episode...certain that I whacked it together we were going off a bit about how crazy it had come down...and totally jacked about it...
We waited a minute or two and began to look for blood. Now it's dark but the moon was out and we headed up in the direction we last saw it headed. We only went about 50 yards and we were on the radio calling the other guys in. With it dark like this it's best to go to where you KNOW you last saw it and get your tracking team together.
In about 10 minutes they arrived...enough time for us to recount the events about a dozen times...guessing on the size...where it went and "debriefing" about what we did right and what we could have done differently. I think the only thing that would have helped is me having a hearing aid! But there are always valuable
lessons learned and the sooner you recall the events the more likely they are to be accurate. It's always interesting for me as well (I think this comes from doing mishap investigations) to learn what the other person saw and heard and how they recall the events. You might be surprised that the variance...but in this case we were pretty much on the same page.
Fast forward...the other "team" arrives and Deedy's daughter Karin gets the award for top tracker. She found one tiny drop of blood in a moon shadowed area...and then it was on from there. A few yards away we found a spurt...pinkish. Lung shot. Another 10 feet or so...zig zagging around...another. Big spurt. This pig isn't going far.
About 10 minutes after the search began we found it piled up in a fairly open area. Turns out the shot was just behind the left shoulder at about a 70 degree angle. Despite taking a 200 grain bullet at about 3000 FPS this thing ran about 300 yards. Tough tough critters...
(yes I did clean it up with a photo editor)..
After field dressing we hauled it into the back of the truck. Arriving in camp was a nice surprise. We were the only ones there when we left but as it turns out the entire place was full. Had a chance to meet a fellow JHO'er (Steve R.) up there, which was a real unexpected pleasure. Looking forward to meeting up again Steve!
In any case I think he and everyone else in the camp came out to watch the final event of hanging and skinning. It's a great experience for the non-hunters in particular to see and understand the process and to know that we care for and respect the game we take.
Again, hats off to Karin and her trusty assistant Danny. Only their second hog but they got on it with vigor (and a little "hands on" supervision). No weak stomachs there!
(no I didn't "clean" this photo up...)
Dressed out this fine fatty tipped the scale at about 185 lbs. Obvious that this girl has been in the barley. Look at the white covering in the photo...all fat.
By the time we wound down after getting the pig hanging in the cooler it was 00:30. I tipped a few cool ones during the caping process and at around 0100 realized that I hadn't eaten since late morning. Amazing what adrenaline can do...
So, we headed up to the cabin, cleaned up and enjoyed a few early morning gourmet hot dogs. And despite the fact that these weren't even good old hot dogs...they were TURKEY dogs...it's amazing how good they tasted...
All in all an eventful first day at Bryson-Hesperia resort.
Postscript: Kudos to Deedy and her "crew". Can't say enough about what a great time the remainder of our stay was... We did take another hog early on Sunday a.m. but that was my buddy's hog and it was on Tom's lease about an hour from Bryson. Hunting was tough and Deedy busted butt the entire time. She's a real dynamo and I highly recommend booking a trip up there. Even if the hogs are tough to spot they're still there. Varmint hunting is everywhere and I had a chance at a coyote-which I passed on in lieu of keeping my brushed up place hidden waiting for pigs. Plenty of other stuff to do up there...so take some time and GO! Deedy ROCKS! Over...and out.
I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself...since this day started about 17 hours earlier down in San Diego. I've been pumped about this trip since late April when it was in the planning stages. I don't know about you, but I'm at the stage where I enjoy the planning almost as much as the hunt...and the hunting as much at "the take"...but I digress...
I picked up my buddy, and after a bit of a frantic packing of the gear we were off! If you're a skier you know the feeling you get when that chair-lift sweeps you up off the "launching pad" the first time? For me it's the exhilaration of heading off to a great and unknown adventure and all that goes with it.
The trip was pretty uneventful except for the unfortunate decision to take 5 instead of 101 (L.A. traffic was more clotted than the aorta of the circus fat lady) which reminds me of our brief breakfast stop at the bottom (north) side of Tejon pass. Funny how one event leads to the next. If you like cheeze whiz on your omelet I'd HIGHLY recommend this place. Otherwise you might look for a local grease spot with a "B" in the window. It would be a step up for sure. There I go...digressing again...
After a few "hey I think that was our turn back there" moments we finally arrived at Bryson-Hesperia resort. As a first timer (and sure to return) I can say that it's a great camp and the staff (Shelley, Danny, Karin and not the least Deedy!) did and outstanding job in every aspect that can make or break a trip. The cabins are comfy, plenty of room for three...four could be done as well but it would be tough losing that draw and having to sleep in the closet. Just kidding. The sofa makes a great "light leak test" platform.
Although it was hot enough to fry satan's bacon the units have industrial sized a/c pumps and being hot was never an issue. The gas from the Bush's baked bean however WAS an issue...but since I threw the food for the trip I guess I'll plead guilty and ask the mercy of the court.
So...about 15 minutes after unloading our stuff and getting settled in, we're walking from our unit down to the "office" (which by the way has a computer and land-lines that are available 24/7-no
cell phone coverage there) and walking up is this tall lanky blond...and she's gonna kill me for saying this...but with the prettiest eyes of any hunting guide you'll ever meet...puts out her hand and says "Hey, I'm Deedy...and I'm gonna help you guys whack some pigs"...or something to that effect. I like it!
To those of you who've been here you know...and to those that haven't, Deedy has such an intense focus on and sincere interest in 1) getting you onto the pigs 2) making sure that you have what you need 3) making you feel right at home (hospitality PLUS!) and if I didn't mention it before...getting you onto the pigs.
Of course in hindsight I suppose conditions would have been better if we'd gone up a month ago...but you have to take what you can get (or make).
The moon phase was just waxing on the 27th (date of arrival) and would be full on the 30th. Combined with it being so hot that the trees are whistling for the dogs and so dry that the pigs are farting dust and you know (or learn) that the already nocturnal Sus scrofa will be in bed early and lay up until it's nice and cool. One exception was the 300 + lb toad that we saw in the barley at about 0600-well after sunrise. He moved off but was still up out a half hour later...disappearing as a dot on the horizon. Big risk for a big pig...another indication that the conditions are tough.
So...we introduce ourselves and discuss a game plan for the day(s) to follow. We'll begin by meeting up with Tom Willoughby at around 1900. We may need to kick some brush to get the hogs to show themselves and having the ability to split up raises the odds a bit. In any case we've got a few hours to "chill"...which I did by eating few hot chilies.
Did I mention that it was hot?
Around 1700 or so I began to get my gear together...lemme see...backpack with my hunting kit (first aid, bug stuff, sunscreen, dressing kit, game bags, flashlight, water, food bars...etc.) Pulled the rifle out of the scabbard just to re-check the magazine (empty), scope covers okay...cycle the bolt. Check. Now...time to load up my cartridge belts. Got my ammo in my shooing kit along with a range finder, glass, some targets (just in case I need to re-zero), ear protection, shooting glasses and so on.
"Hey Jeff...you unload my shooting bag?". "Nope...haven't seen it." "You sure?" "Yep...I'm sure..."
Crikey! Worked up custom loads for weeks for this trip (25-06 shooting Barnes 115 gr 3X's) and of course had my brush gun ammo (Garret Hardcast 415 gr 45/70) and my .17 HMR varmint ammo in there
as well.
THUD...
That's the sound of my morale hitting the deck at about mach 3...high noon...no chance of a shadow. Okay...4 minutes and 37 seconds of pity party...and then into gear to solve the problem.
Readers Digest version: After a somewhat foggy mental review I was SURE that the bag was loaded in my car. Convinced of that, I talked AAA of SoCal into letting a neighbor of Jeff's stand by while a locksmith opened the car. Bag (black) on the floor behind the back seat. Must have been overlooked in the pre-dawn shamozzle of the loadex. In any case it WAS there! Called to another buddy who was coming up the next day (flying to Paso Robles). Hero that he is...he ran over to "rescue" the bag, load it up and
deliver it along with his own bad self. Problem solved.
Of course I never heard about THAT again...probably never will...ever.
"GOT AMMO?" "Got yer hat?" "Got money?" "Got (fill in the blank)?" Ahhh...the joys of having true bro's....
Okay...now I know where the ammo is and when it's going to arrive but what to do for tonight? Again...elevating himself to SUPER hero status my bro Jeff volunteered to take one for the
team and loan me his "back-up rifle". A D'Arcy Echols prepped Winchester Model 70 in 300 WinMag. For those of you who don't know of him...he's an absolutely brilliant perfectionist of a gunsmith.
He builds first for function and having a rifle in which you are 100% confident helps in the field immensely. Also gives you NO EXCUSES or chances for a mulligan. It really is that good.
In any case...I was first in the rotation for a hog (we swap off every time we're in the field until somebody takes one) so Jeff wanted for me to have the best chance. BTW, we were shooting
200 grain Nosler partitions. That's a whacker.
Luckily Deedy had a "camp rifle"...a nice little Remington .308 carbine bolt rifle. Did I mention that I'm left handed? As is Jeff? Like I said, the man took one for the team
when he volunteered for me to use his rifle...super hero!
I'm sure that like most outfitters, Deedy wanted to know what kind of hunters we were and how/if we could shoot. Jeff and Deedy headed up to her "range" and step off about 150 yards.
He puts the first (only) round about an inch outside the dead center of the target. Good enough...
Now, being the gentleman that I am...I'm not going to mention AT ALL the fact that some of the people in my hunting party MIGHT be considered rifle snobs. No sir...in no way am I going to name
names.
But Deedy might chime in with her account of the session at the range. Frickin' hilarious...
So, as the drama ebbed my spirits once again rose and at 1830 we were geared up and off to meet Tom. We drove to a lease just off the state highway, through a gate and up to our rendezvous. Now it's not that hot...once the temperature drops below 95, you feel a bit chilly up here. Cows aren't yet squeezing out evaporated milk but it IS dry. Did I mention hot and dry yet?
We formulate a game plan to have us at the top of some brush where the hogs are likely to be bedded up. It's early enough that we kick the brush and still head out to another area if we don't see
anything and we didn't. Time for Plan B. Jeff and Tom head for the barley fields. Deedy and I stay on the lease that we're on and head down a bit to where there's been some nocturnal traffic on the game cams.
It's about an hour until sunset so plenty of time to walk in, scope out the lay of the land, check the wind and get brushed up. Ah...the wind. Sure way to be busted by pigs.
Make some noise...you might get lucky...be in the line of sight and if you don't move (too much) you'll probably be okay. But one little sniff...and it could be from WAY far away...and you're busted.
So, we stealth our way into some low scrub oak and check the shooting lanes. Not ideal but it never is...is it? I know...shoulda been here YESTERDAY... Now it's whisper time. The hogs are probably going to come up from the valley and head over to the lakeside behind us. The dead fall around us is pretty light but there are some
wide open little dells that provide a good route for a game trail. There are a few here...used by a lot of critters for sure but there's sign that the pigs use them quite a bit. I'm better shooting from a seated position that I am kneeling and there's not enough room to use sticks since the brush in the shooting lanes offers only about 4-5 feet of overhead.
There are a few of these little clearings in this area and we begin to do what most hunters do...which is second guess our spot. C'mon now...fess up. Once you're in the spot...although you've scouted and planned...things do change. In this case it's the wind.
These clearings are generally low little "valleys" between two rises. The vegetation is on the top of the rise which is oriented up/down slope. The one we sat at was "U" shaped at the bottom and transitioned from really thick brush and a very steep hillside below. That's about 45 degrees relative from where we're sitting...down to our right about 75 yards or so. We're on the side of the little dell, facing east southeast. Wind is northeast...wait...it's east. No, it's west...now it's northeast again. Breeze really...not wind...but it's there.
Now it's about 15 minutes before sunset and we decide to move up the valley just a bit. There's a small oak and scrub about 30 yards uphill from us and gives me a much better look at the clear area. The light is going to be a challenge. We move. Quietly...
Now...we just sit. Amazing what you can hear when you do. Not the least of which are the ski boats over on lake San Antonio. It's a few miles away over the rise that's about 80 yards above and behind us to our left. About 135 degrees relative...
All your senses go keen. It's my favorite part about being out there...except to discover that the ringing in my ears is more distracting than it has been in years. But even that seems to wane with time...
Sunset is a 2025 local. Nothing moves but the wind.
Now I've decided that a kneeling shot would be best from this angle so I S L O W L Y reposition myself to a left knee down/right up position...and wait. Deedy is crouched looking hard with the glass. She's about 10 o'clock relative to me slightly downslope about 3 feet lateral distance. Dead calm. Not bad...not good. But calm. I quietly mouth a whisper..."Wouldn't it be funny if they came up behind us?" We both have a mini snicker and it's back to scanning.
Now it's about 2045 and it looks like that's going to be it. We're on the lee side of the hill and have been in shadow almost from the time we arrived. Down slope is getting pretty dark but I've got good glass and can still pick through the brush pretty good.
Oh well...we've got a few days ahead of us. Now I run through the "That's why they call it hunting" platitudes and yet I know these critters only move late.
Snap!...again...that sure wasn't me!!! Wasn't Deedy...hmmm...but I'm SURE I heard it. "Uurnt"...snort...grunt...whatever you want to call it...I heard 'em.
Slowly my eyes go full against the gimbals left. Neck follows. 50 degrees I begin to pick them up in the peripheral vision. About 90 degrees I know there's more than one. 135 degrees and all I see are silhouettes. About 15...maybe more, maybe less...but probably more. They're on a slow mosey BEHIND us. Nothing but silhouette now...and about 3 minutes of legal light remaining. All I can say is to mouth/whisper "pigs!". Now...I see a wet sow, a few weaners, maybe a shoat or two...a pretty good sized boar and one fat sow. Of course at the time I didn't know she was a sow...just that this one broke out of the pack a bit to left of the others.
She stopped. Grunt...root...move a few steps. Now...here's the comedy of it. I'm trying to communicate with Deedy. She doesn't dare move more than her head. She's whispering but it's she's facing away from me and downhill (can't do anything about our setup now) and since I've turned she's now on the side of my worst ear. I'm hearing something...trying to understand what she sees and if she wants me to pick a certain hog. But all I can hear is a whisper...can't make out the words.
Big pig on the left is facing me...somewhat oblique with the left shoulder leading. Getting dark. Boar is mixed in the pack and I can't make him out that well. They're off the skyline now and closing slowly to about 40 yards. Funny what you notice at these times. First is that the breeze has shifted and is blowing like wind now...about 10 knots directly in our face. Gave me confidence that they probably didn't smell us. But they did know something was there...
Secondly...I had to swing my barrel about 135 degrees and go from a kneeling position to a reverse sumo squat and my left leg began to do a little "sewing machine" shake. Not nerves...just adrenaline. Steady now boy-o...
I don't think I could have held this for more than 15 seconds on a $100 bet...but in this case I was there for at least a minute. Finally...I heard someone (I wonder who!) whisper rather emphatically..."pick one!"
I had what turned out to be this fat sow in the cross hairs for about 45 seconds...(I shoot with both eyes open) while scanning the others. Finally with about 2 minutes of light remaining she turned so that she was about facing about 70 degrees oblique to her right. I put the cross hairs in the front/bottom third where I imagined the shoulder would be and lit one off and racked in a fresh one.
Mind you, the muzzle blast from this thing is impressive...about 18 inches of blue flame...but I didn't even see it. Nor did I feel the recoil. I hit that pig hard and square with a 200 grain partition and she took that little hop, squealed like a shot pig (of all things) and blasted off into the woods uphill.
I cracked off a follow up but it was just a hail Mary shot. Next thing I hear is Deedy...absolutely PUMPED about the entire episode...certain that I whacked it together we were going off a bit about how crazy it had come down...and totally jacked about it...
We waited a minute or two and began to look for blood. Now it's dark but the moon was out and we headed up in the direction we last saw it headed. We only went about 50 yards and we were on the radio calling the other guys in. With it dark like this it's best to go to where you KNOW you last saw it and get your tracking team together.
In about 10 minutes they arrived...enough time for us to recount the events about a dozen times...guessing on the size...where it went and "debriefing" about what we did right and what we could have done differently. I think the only thing that would have helped is me having a hearing aid! But there are always valuable
lessons learned and the sooner you recall the events the more likely they are to be accurate. It's always interesting for me as well (I think this comes from doing mishap investigations) to learn what the other person saw and heard and how they recall the events. You might be surprised that the variance...but in this case we were pretty much on the same page.
Fast forward...the other "team" arrives and Deedy's daughter Karin gets the award for top tracker. She found one tiny drop of blood in a moon shadowed area...and then it was on from there. A few yards away we found a spurt...pinkish. Lung shot. Another 10 feet or so...zig zagging around...another. Big spurt. This pig isn't going far.
About 10 minutes after the search began we found it piled up in a fairly open area. Turns out the shot was just behind the left shoulder at about a 70 degree angle. Despite taking a 200 grain bullet at about 3000 FPS this thing ran about 300 yards. Tough tough critters...
(yes I did clean it up with a photo editor)..
After field dressing we hauled it into the back of the truck. Arriving in camp was a nice surprise. We were the only ones there when we left but as it turns out the entire place was full. Had a chance to meet a fellow JHO'er (Steve R.) up there, which was a real unexpected pleasure. Looking forward to meeting up again Steve!
In any case I think he and everyone else in the camp came out to watch the final event of hanging and skinning. It's a great experience for the non-hunters in particular to see and understand the process and to know that we care for and respect the game we take.
Again, hats off to Karin and her trusty assistant Danny. Only their second hog but they got on it with vigor (and a little "hands on" supervision). No weak stomachs there!
(no I didn't "clean" this photo up...)
Dressed out this fine fatty tipped the scale at about 185 lbs. Obvious that this girl has been in the barley. Look at the white covering in the photo...all fat.
By the time we wound down after getting the pig hanging in the cooler it was 00:30. I tipped a few cool ones during the caping process and at around 0100 realized that I hadn't eaten since late morning. Amazing what adrenaline can do...
So, we headed up to the cabin, cleaned up and enjoyed a few early morning gourmet hot dogs. And despite the fact that these weren't even good old hot dogs...they were TURKEY dogs...it's amazing how good they tasted...
All in all an eventful first day at Bryson-Hesperia resort.
Postscript: Kudos to Deedy and her "crew". Can't say enough about what a great time the remainder of our stay was... We did take another hog early on Sunday a.m. but that was my buddy's hog and it was on Tom's lease about an hour from Bryson. Hunting was tough and Deedy busted butt the entire time. She's a real dynamo and I highly recommend booking a trip up there. Even if the hogs are tough to spot they're still there. Varmint hunting is everywhere and I had a chance at a coyote-which I passed on in lieu of keeping my brushed up place hidden waiting for pigs. Plenty of other stuff to do up there...so take some time and GO! Deedy ROCKS! Over...and out.
