asaxon
Well-known member
- Joined
- Nov 30, 2010
- Messages
- 1,139
- Reaction score
- 163
The Admiral has been after me to head up to Central CA to chase some wild hogs as we’d been out of pork for many months. However, I have strict standing orders; sows only. She can smell the difference between boar and sow cooking with even the “mildest” boar. I tested the Admiral once by slipping in some boar meat as sow but as she started to cook it, she immediately sang out; “this smells like boar.” Thus no boars allowed. I got ahold my friend and guide, Tom Willoughby and he
View attachment 87353
tells me to be there on an afternoon as the hogs are pretty much in brush in the mornings while more likely out feeding in the evenings. So I scoot over the Grapevine with snow on it and meet up with his son Blake (it’s a Sunday so he is off ranch work) in the little town of Bradley. We head across the Salinas River and up Indian Valley Road and meet up with Tom
Picture 1 = Snow on the Grapevine.
Tom stationed himself on one hilltop while Blake and I set up look out on a much higher one. We glassed and glassed and glassed. Nada. Finally, Tom spots a good size hog about ½ mile south of us walking on a low ridge. Blake and I set up a stalk, first moving down downwind and then coming up the ridge in the brush from the west. We come out of the cover and sure enough standing no more than 75 yards right above us, a veritable chip shot, is a nice hog. It was looking right at us and low and behold, it’s a boar and he is clearly waving his willie at us! I swear somehow this boar knew the Admiral had given orders: “sows only”. So he just stood there waving his pecker –that’s what it looked like to me and I’m sticking to my story. We named him “Waving Willie.” Never seen or heard of that behavior before in a wild hog – probably would have been booked for “indecent exposure” even in West Hollywood but it did save his life… He needs to get a raincoat.
Picture 2 = Hog country but no one home, Picture 3 = Elk on ridgeline
View attachment 87354 View attachment 87355
It’s now toward dusk and we figure to try another area so we go back, get the truck and drive North. A mile or so later, as I’m looking at some elk high on a ridge, Tom spots a group of hogs in a field. They “make” us and head off into the brush. We go up the road ½ mile further and turn off at an abandoned ranch house where Blake and I plan to stalk back down toward where those hogs were headed. However, we don’t get 200 yards when we see a 5 or 6 different hogs spread all over a planted field right in front of us. We crept up behind some abandoned vehicles to get closer. Five yards in front of us is a serious square wire six foot high fence and just beyond are some small hogs while the larger ones are much further away. We couldn’t risk getting closer as the smaller ones would spook and then they’d all be off. The biggest sow we could see was facing straight at us and naturally she is the furthest away at about 200 yards. I put the crosshairs on the sow and looked down my barrel to be sure I wasn’t going to hit the damn fence. She finally turns to a quartering angle. BAMM, a 168 gr. all copper Vortex from my 30-06 Browning A-Bolt II goes downrange and she drops like a stone. Immediately we see about 10 hogs go running away.
Then all of a sudden, Tom zooms up and shouts, GET IN! We pile into the truck and he heads off road. We go flying up the rise behind the field with Tom saying: “them hogs will cross into the next ravine and up the steep hill beyond.” Tom soon runs out of places to drive so Blake and I pile out and sprint (as best I can) to top of the rise and sure enough, running into the ravine below us are the hogs. As I get set to shoot, Blake is trying to sort out which is a shootable sow. He says’ “shoot the last one”. I look and reply; “No way, too big, got to be a boar”. He looks again and says “sow” so I put the scope on her, wait a moment until it has to slow down to head up the steep hill and BAMM. The hog hunches up, hit but too far back to drop her. I’d rushed and didn’t lead enough. She stops, and then starts walking very slowly up the hill only to stop about 75 yards uphill hidden in some trees while the others quickly disappear over the hilltop. We than carefully stalk down into the ravine, look up and sure enough, there’s the hog. This time I put the cross hairs right behind the ear and pull the trigger. The hog keels over and proceeds to roll all the way down the hill to just about where we are standing. Sweet! Only when we got a close look at her did we realize how freakin’ big this sow was. Holy Sow! Tom who has killed more hogs than Jimmy Dean, even said it is a big sow. He figured it is well over 200 lbs. Fortunately, Tom found a way to get the pickup to where we were so we just had to lift her into the truck bed without hurting ourselves.
View attachment 87356 View attachment 87357
Back at the field, we had to drag out the first sow as we couldn’t drive on the planted field. She was a nice big 160+ pound sow, too heavy to carry far, but she looked small next to Holy Sow. From the moment I shot the first sow until the second one was down couldn’t have been more the three or four minutes. Wow. What a rush.
View attachment 87358 View attachment 87359
I was originally planning to butcher the animals the next day but after getting home and looking at the vast amount of hog and my grinder, sanity prevailed. I took the carcasses to the butcher – the Admiral told me she knew that was the right decision all along; she was just waiting for me to come to my senses. I did take off a hindquarter for friends who came over for pheasant stew dinner. Sweet. One of them processed the ham for roasts etc. Now that is a pretty apprentice butcher.
View attachment 87360
The Admiral and I are all set for lots of pork over the coming year and I’m particularly looking forward to Cajan and Italian sausages for which we will thank the Holy Sow and her sister.
Picture 1 = Snow on the Grapevine.
Tom stationed himself on one hilltop while Blake and I set up look out on a much higher one. We glassed and glassed and glassed. Nada. Finally, Tom spots a good size hog about ½ mile south of us walking on a low ridge. Blake and I set up a stalk, first moving down downwind and then coming up the ridge in the brush from the west. We come out of the cover and sure enough standing no more than 75 yards right above us, a veritable chip shot, is a nice hog. It was looking right at us and low and behold, it’s a boar and he is clearly waving his willie at us! I swear somehow this boar knew the Admiral had given orders: “sows only”. So he just stood there waving his pecker –that’s what it looked like to me and I’m sticking to my story. We named him “Waving Willie.” Never seen or heard of that behavior before in a wild hog – probably would have been booked for “indecent exposure” even in West Hollywood but it did save his life… He needs to get a raincoat.
Picture 2 = Hog country but no one home, Picture 3 = Elk on ridgeline
View attachment 87354 View attachment 87355
It’s now toward dusk and we figure to try another area so we go back, get the truck and drive North. A mile or so later, as I’m looking at some elk high on a ridge, Tom spots a group of hogs in a field. They “make” us and head off into the brush. We go up the road ½ mile further and turn off at an abandoned ranch house where Blake and I plan to stalk back down toward where those hogs were headed. However, we don’t get 200 yards when we see a 5 or 6 different hogs spread all over a planted field right in front of us. We crept up behind some abandoned vehicles to get closer. Five yards in front of us is a serious square wire six foot high fence and just beyond are some small hogs while the larger ones are much further away. We couldn’t risk getting closer as the smaller ones would spook and then they’d all be off. The biggest sow we could see was facing straight at us and naturally she is the furthest away at about 200 yards. I put the crosshairs on the sow and looked down my barrel to be sure I wasn’t going to hit the damn fence. She finally turns to a quartering angle. BAMM, a 168 gr. all copper Vortex from my 30-06 Browning A-Bolt II goes downrange and she drops like a stone. Immediately we see about 10 hogs go running away.
Then all of a sudden, Tom zooms up and shouts, GET IN! We pile into the truck and he heads off road. We go flying up the rise behind the field with Tom saying: “them hogs will cross into the next ravine and up the steep hill beyond.” Tom soon runs out of places to drive so Blake and I pile out and sprint (as best I can) to top of the rise and sure enough, running into the ravine below us are the hogs. As I get set to shoot, Blake is trying to sort out which is a shootable sow. He says’ “shoot the last one”. I look and reply; “No way, too big, got to be a boar”. He looks again and says “sow” so I put the scope on her, wait a moment until it has to slow down to head up the steep hill and BAMM. The hog hunches up, hit but too far back to drop her. I’d rushed and didn’t lead enough. She stops, and then starts walking very slowly up the hill only to stop about 75 yards uphill hidden in some trees while the others quickly disappear over the hilltop. We than carefully stalk down into the ravine, look up and sure enough, there’s the hog. This time I put the cross hairs right behind the ear and pull the trigger. The hog keels over and proceeds to roll all the way down the hill to just about where we are standing. Sweet! Only when we got a close look at her did we realize how freakin’ big this sow was. Holy Sow! Tom who has killed more hogs than Jimmy Dean, even said it is a big sow. He figured it is well over 200 lbs. Fortunately, Tom found a way to get the pickup to where we were so we just had to lift her into the truck bed without hurting ourselves.
Picture 4 = Holy Sow, Picture 5 = Drag mark for Sow #1
View attachment 87356 View attachment 87357
Back at the field, we had to drag out the first sow as we couldn’t drive on the planted field. She was a nice big 160+ pound sow, too heavy to carry far, but she looked small next to Holy Sow. From the moment I shot the first sow until the second one was down couldn’t have been more the three or four minutes. Wow. What a rush.
View attachment 87358 View attachment 87359
I was originally planning to butcher the animals the next day but after getting home and looking at the vast amount of hog and my grinder, sanity prevailed. I took the carcasses to the butcher – the Admiral told me she knew that was the right decision all along; she was just waiting for me to come to my senses. I did take off a hindquarter for friends who came over for pheasant stew dinner. Sweet. One of them processed the ham for roasts etc. Now that is a pretty apprentice butcher.
View attachment 87360
The Admiral and I are all set for lots of pork over the coming year and I’m particularly looking forward to Cajan and Italian sausages for which we will thank the Holy Sow and her sister.
No animals were harmed unnecessarily in the telling of this tale but the truth took a beating….
Last edited:
