Uncle Bambi
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jan 13, 2013
- Messages
- 247
- Reaction score
- 2
Or, "The Porcine Deity Clasps Me To His Bosom"
NOTE: Before you ask the question, here's the answer - "no, I will not tell you what TA's I hunted in". Sorry.
I was hanging around the house last week, getting the jones to go hunting. Now that the A Zone carnival had left town, I figured that FHL might be worth a look. Seeing a bunch of TA's open that hadn't been open for along time got my heart all a-flutter, so I packed the Jeep, kissed the wife, and headed on down on Friday.
On the way up from King City, I almost get T-boned by a 4 pointer charging out of the brush. I hit the brakes hard when I see him, but the only thing that keeps him off my fender is the fact that he did a U-turn at the last second and hauled *** in the opposite direction. As I get close to FHL, I see an elk herd off to the right. Big Bull seems to be agitated, so I pull over to watch and take a few photo's. He's charging all around trying to keep the young bulls away from his cows. Hmmmmm.... must be That Time of Year ....
After I arrive but before going through the check point, I drive around on the public roads to take a look around. I don't see any pigs out and about, but I see tons of deer, quail everywhere, and several flocks of turkeys.
After I've had enough driving around, I check in to the the base and ensconce myself into the Hacienda to make plans for the morning. Decisions, decisions...... I had a pretty well defined plan, but the unexpected surfeit of of TA's to choose from produces paralysis by analysis.... I don't know what to do. I decide to hunt a TA I had killed a pig in a long time ago, since it had been closed for a while and I was curious to look around.
I enter the TA the next morning, a full hour before sunrise. Confident that I can find the spot where the previous kill took place, I am carefree and full of hope....... until I realize that I'm not where I want to be, nothing looks the same, and I can't figure out how to get to where I desire. I drive the roads back and forth, chris-crossing and doubling back, looking for familiar landmarks. Nothing.Zip, zilch, nada. As the sun comes up, I'm still driving around, trying to find my old spot, trying to find a new spot, trying to find pigs. Not a thing looks familiar. Now I'm frustrated, and thinking Bad Thoughts. I keep at it though, and after spending a couple hours searching I finally approach from an angle that jogs distant memories..... Eureka! Well..... except it's all changed. New roads, some fire damage...... very little is how I remember. Oh, well.
I's about 8am now, and I'm feeling the pressure to find some pigs before it gets too hot. I elect to drive out and scout some new roads, and do a little canyon peeking as I drive slowly. I pop bucks off their beds, flush quail, and send does running at seemingly every corner. No pigs. I find myself crawling slowly up a minor ridge-line, silently cursing my luck, and already planning out my evening hunt. Big Mistake. As I top out on the ridge, a shallow grassy valley opens up on my left, and catching movement out of the corner of my eye snaps be back into here-and-now.
Pigs! A whole bunch of them! well - 4 or 5 adults and a bunch of little footballs swirling around. As the scene registers into my conscience, I stop the truck. They haven't seen me yet, but as I exit the cab and uncase my rifle, I'm made by one of the adults. The groups stops and stares at me as I'm loading, and before I can bring the rifle to bear they start running. I take two shots while they are in full run, and see a dirt blossom bloom opposite the pig I'm shooting at - damn..... right over his back. the valley is short and has dense scrub at the top, so they make good their escape. Double Damn! If I had been focused, I would have had one. I follow them on foot, hike around, scout, try to find any evidence of their passing, and generally curse my in-attentiveness. After-the-fact ranging reveals that the pigs were 106 yards from where I took the shot.
I continue on, and check into an unfamiliar TA. I drive around it for a couple of hours, looking for a suitable ambush site for the evening. Now it is 12 noon and I've seen nothing the fits my criteria or looks promising. So after having lunch under a big beautiful oak tree I head back to base for a nap. I snooze until 3pm, and check the temperature. 90 degrees. Hmm..... to hot for pigs yet, so I decide to scout another unfamiliar TA and maybe do some archery rabbit hunting. I check into another TA and drive around. Lord Almighty - the brush is so thick and the hill so steep that I leave in disgust...... after wasting an hour.
It is still hot, so I decide to go to a TA I am familiar with, and set up in the shade to finish my nap and wait for pigs to come out. I had previously identified a high traffic area that had good sight-lines and was adjacent to a good ambush spot with lots of trees and shade, and I figure if I get in early while they are still laying low, I'll become part of the landscape and if any wander by I might get lucky. I arrive, grab my pack and my gun, and take a walk. As I approach my little clump of trees and bushes from the uphill side, I hear noises..... some branches breaking..... a grunt...... some squeals. The frickin' pigs are bedded down in the very spot I was going to take my nap in!
I freeze, and listen some more. The first thing I do is check the wind....whew, it's favorable. So, I'm standing in full sun, frozen, slightly uphill from an unknown number of pigs less than 30 yards from me, and I can't see anything. They are in there, I can hear them, but I can't see a thing moving. I have no choice - I have to stand still and enjoy the 90 degree weather and the flies, while I wait them out.
After what seems like ages but was probably only 15-20 minutes, I see a pig lazily walk out the opposite side into a grassy field. The grass is about 3 feet high, and I know he could easily disappear and be gone for good if I try to move up for a better shot. He's about 50-60 yards out, moving straight away from my slightly elevated position. I have a slug gun, and the shot would have to be through a tree line and into his back. I decide to pass and try to move closer.
Dry grass is a creation of the Devil Himself, and as I creep forward it seems like I might as well be banging pots and pans. I steadily move closer, trying not to panic and rush. I get to the bottom of the hill and gingerly cross over the sunken creek bed. I've not seen the pig since I left my position to begin the stalk, so I don't know where he is. I come up the other side of the creek behind a bush, and there he is, about 25 yards out.
He's still facing away from me, so all I can see is the top of his butt and a tail swishing. About 30 yards past him, I see more ears and bits of heads and backs. Three more pigs on the other side of the one I'm stalking, and I can't see any of them clearly enough to determine size. While I'm trying to figure out which pig I want to shoot, my decision gets made for me. Two of the farther away pigs get the idea that something is amiss and with heads up quick-step back to the dense brush. At the same time the pig closest to be finally turns perfectly broadside, and has not clue one that he is about to become tonight's entertainment.
With only one pig in front of me now the choice becomes obvious, so I center up on the part I can see and let one fly. I literally see a cloud of red mist erupt as the slug hits home. He grunts, drops, and everything is deathly still. I walk up to him, and he is gurgling his last breath - the slug was a pass-through, but a little forensics later reveals that the slug took the top of both lungs with it as it exited.
Here he is, as found:
I learned something new that day...... pigs may avoid the heat of the day in general, but these guys were out in full sun at 4:30pm in 90 degree weather. Go figure. the moral of the story is that you can never be out "too early", and above all - always pay attention and never give up.
After I got him hung up and ready for butchering, I was able to take a good look at him. I figure he was about 100 - 120 pounds or so...... not a big pig, but big enough.
NOTE: Before you ask the question, here's the answer - "no, I will not tell you what TA's I hunted in". Sorry.
I was hanging around the house last week, getting the jones to go hunting. Now that the A Zone carnival had left town, I figured that FHL might be worth a look. Seeing a bunch of TA's open that hadn't been open for along time got my heart all a-flutter, so I packed the Jeep, kissed the wife, and headed on down on Friday.
On the way up from King City, I almost get T-boned by a 4 pointer charging out of the brush. I hit the brakes hard when I see him, but the only thing that keeps him off my fender is the fact that he did a U-turn at the last second and hauled *** in the opposite direction. As I get close to FHL, I see an elk herd off to the right. Big Bull seems to be agitated, so I pull over to watch and take a few photo's. He's charging all around trying to keep the young bulls away from his cows. Hmmmmm.... must be That Time of Year ....
After I arrive but before going through the check point, I drive around on the public roads to take a look around. I don't see any pigs out and about, but I see tons of deer, quail everywhere, and several flocks of turkeys.
After I've had enough driving around, I check in to the the base and ensconce myself into the Hacienda to make plans for the morning. Decisions, decisions...... I had a pretty well defined plan, but the unexpected surfeit of of TA's to choose from produces paralysis by analysis.... I don't know what to do. I decide to hunt a TA I had killed a pig in a long time ago, since it had been closed for a while and I was curious to look around.
I enter the TA the next morning, a full hour before sunrise. Confident that I can find the spot where the previous kill took place, I am carefree and full of hope....... until I realize that I'm not where I want to be, nothing looks the same, and I can't figure out how to get to where I desire. I drive the roads back and forth, chris-crossing and doubling back, looking for familiar landmarks. Nothing.Zip, zilch, nada. As the sun comes up, I'm still driving around, trying to find my old spot, trying to find a new spot, trying to find pigs. Not a thing looks familiar. Now I'm frustrated, and thinking Bad Thoughts. I keep at it though, and after spending a couple hours searching I finally approach from an angle that jogs distant memories..... Eureka! Well..... except it's all changed. New roads, some fire damage...... very little is how I remember. Oh, well.
I's about 8am now, and I'm feeling the pressure to find some pigs before it gets too hot. I elect to drive out and scout some new roads, and do a little canyon peeking as I drive slowly. I pop bucks off their beds, flush quail, and send does running at seemingly every corner. No pigs. I find myself crawling slowly up a minor ridge-line, silently cursing my luck, and already planning out my evening hunt. Big Mistake. As I top out on the ridge, a shallow grassy valley opens up on my left, and catching movement out of the corner of my eye snaps be back into here-and-now.
Pigs! A whole bunch of them! well - 4 or 5 adults and a bunch of little footballs swirling around. As the scene registers into my conscience, I stop the truck. They haven't seen me yet, but as I exit the cab and uncase my rifle, I'm made by one of the adults. The groups stops and stares at me as I'm loading, and before I can bring the rifle to bear they start running. I take two shots while they are in full run, and see a dirt blossom bloom opposite the pig I'm shooting at - damn..... right over his back. the valley is short and has dense scrub at the top, so they make good their escape. Double Damn! If I had been focused, I would have had one. I follow them on foot, hike around, scout, try to find any evidence of their passing, and generally curse my in-attentiveness. After-the-fact ranging reveals that the pigs were 106 yards from where I took the shot.
I continue on, and check into an unfamiliar TA. I drive around it for a couple of hours, looking for a suitable ambush site for the evening. Now it is 12 noon and I've seen nothing the fits my criteria or looks promising. So after having lunch under a big beautiful oak tree I head back to base for a nap. I snooze until 3pm, and check the temperature. 90 degrees. Hmm..... to hot for pigs yet, so I decide to scout another unfamiliar TA and maybe do some archery rabbit hunting. I check into another TA and drive around. Lord Almighty - the brush is so thick and the hill so steep that I leave in disgust...... after wasting an hour.
It is still hot, so I decide to go to a TA I am familiar with, and set up in the shade to finish my nap and wait for pigs to come out. I had previously identified a high traffic area that had good sight-lines and was adjacent to a good ambush spot with lots of trees and shade, and I figure if I get in early while they are still laying low, I'll become part of the landscape and if any wander by I might get lucky. I arrive, grab my pack and my gun, and take a walk. As I approach my little clump of trees and bushes from the uphill side, I hear noises..... some branches breaking..... a grunt...... some squeals. The frickin' pigs are bedded down in the very spot I was going to take my nap in!
I freeze, and listen some more. The first thing I do is check the wind....whew, it's favorable. So, I'm standing in full sun, frozen, slightly uphill from an unknown number of pigs less than 30 yards from me, and I can't see anything. They are in there, I can hear them, but I can't see a thing moving. I have no choice - I have to stand still and enjoy the 90 degree weather and the flies, while I wait them out.
After what seems like ages but was probably only 15-20 minutes, I see a pig lazily walk out the opposite side into a grassy field. The grass is about 3 feet high, and I know he could easily disappear and be gone for good if I try to move up for a better shot. He's about 50-60 yards out, moving straight away from my slightly elevated position. I have a slug gun, and the shot would have to be through a tree line and into his back. I decide to pass and try to move closer.
Dry grass is a creation of the Devil Himself, and as I creep forward it seems like I might as well be banging pots and pans. I steadily move closer, trying not to panic and rush. I get to the bottom of the hill and gingerly cross over the sunken creek bed. I've not seen the pig since I left my position to begin the stalk, so I don't know where he is. I come up the other side of the creek behind a bush, and there he is, about 25 yards out.
He's still facing away from me, so all I can see is the top of his butt and a tail swishing. About 30 yards past him, I see more ears and bits of heads and backs. Three more pigs on the other side of the one I'm stalking, and I can't see any of them clearly enough to determine size. While I'm trying to figure out which pig I want to shoot, my decision gets made for me. Two of the farther away pigs get the idea that something is amiss and with heads up quick-step back to the dense brush. At the same time the pig closest to be finally turns perfectly broadside, and has not clue one that he is about to become tonight's entertainment.
With only one pig in front of me now the choice becomes obvious, so I center up on the part I can see and let one fly. I literally see a cloud of red mist erupt as the slug hits home. He grunts, drops, and everything is deathly still. I walk up to him, and he is gurgling his last breath - the slug was a pass-through, but a little forensics later reveals that the slug took the top of both lungs with it as it exited.
Here he is, as found:
I learned something new that day...... pigs may avoid the heat of the day in general, but these guys were out in full sun at 4:30pm in 90 degree weather. Go figure. the moral of the story is that you can never be out "too early", and above all - always pay attention and never give up.
After I got him hung up and ready for butchering, I was able to take a good look at him. I figure he was about 100 - 120 pounds or so...... not a big pig, but big enough.
