I am actually posting under my sons screen name since I haven't signed in for quite some time. My old name was Mossback and my new one will be Mossback05. I read the forum topics (Hogs, Dogs, Mule Deer, Upland, etc) several times week and I figured it was high time I chime in. I read this site so often I feel like I know many of the regulars and when you start bumping into these members at events such as the snake avoidance class where I met DK Scott this weekend, it is probably time to contribute something. I enjoy the stories and have learned a lot over the years from JHP.
Anyway on with my story. June 9 and 10 my Dad, my son, and myself planned a two day hunt around the central coast. This hunt was unique since we had several non-hunting family members along with us. The plan was for my wife, son and I to meet my parents and my sister, her husband, and their little baby Thursday afternoon in time to get in an evening hunt. My wife and I picked up my 14 year old son from school right after his last final and we headed north. We arrived at the ranch around 5:00 and the rest of the family was already there. We didn't get out to hunt until after six so we didn't have much time to hunt. As we were loading to go out hunting a wild looking pig approached the truck. Come to find out the pig (Lucky) was born wild but became a regular around the dwellings after its mother was shot. This pig is pretty funny. It goes to bed when the sun goes down and gets up with the roosters. It comes running when the truck pulls in from a hunt. Before loading up I had everybody check the bore of their rifle and inspect the amo after reading OneTracks story. The weather was overcast and windy. We did have time to run out a couple ridgelines and glass a really good looking area right at dark but no pigs were to be found so it was back to the dwellings for a couple of cold ones and a good night sleep.
Friday morning we were rolling a little before five but we were greeted by fog and low visibility. Our plans to get high and glass the pigs as they came out of the barley was not going to work so we set up on a ridge hoping we picked the right one for an ambush. Six o’clock rolled around and the fog was thick and no pigs, 7 o’clock plenty of fog and no pigs, 7:30 the fog finally starts to lift and we can see a little further. As we glassed down the canyon the grass was high and the air was still a little smoky but now and then it looked like a few black dots appeared for a second in the grass. Then more dots, but this time closer. Yes they were pigs and they were coming our way. My son and I were stationed on the draw where the pigs were coming and my dad was watching the draw behind us. As they approached it became obvious that this group was a couple of sows with a bunch of little ones. This group continued up the canyon right below us and they made a lot of noise as they passed 100 yards from our left to our right. As we let this group pass another group of 15-20 hogs were working their way up the same route. We can now hear these pigs but only see them off and on as they approach so we call my Dad over to maybe get a shot. My son and I are set up ready to take shot but only a fraction of the group actually passes through the canyon. They are all sows. First pig wet, second dry, third wet, forth dry. I tell my son take the second and I will take the last one. As I am waiting for his shot I track the last hog in my scope them BOOM. I hear “high”, the pigs take off running. I shoot and miss, my sons second shot connects, m y second and third miss. My Dad gets in on the action and misses. As the hogs make their way out of range we only have one to show for some pretty poor shooting. T least my son tagged a good eater probably around 120 lbs. After the fog lifted we drove around looking for more but nothing was found so it was back to camp for lunch and a nap.
Friday evening we got started about four. The weather was warm and windy so we started hunting by walking out some brushy draws. We hit some good looking country with a lot of sign but nobody was home. We then started working the higher ridges trying to spot something in its bed. About 5:30 we hit a good vantage point and had been glassing for good 10 minutes when we spot a bedded boar not 100 yards from use. My Dad takes the lead and stalks within 15 yards of the hog. The wind was whipping and in our favor and he probably could have jumped on his back and slit his throat if he wanted to but he slowly brought his rifle to his shoulder and let one go. The boar squeals and jumps to its feet and start toward us. A second shot also connects as the pig does a 180 and heads down the canyon a 100 feet or so before coming to rest. It is a young boar around 90 lbs. As we continue our spot and stalk mode of hunting I am thinking how satisfied I am that I have had the opportunity to get together with my family and watch my 14 year old son and 70 year old Dad each take a hog while I watched. As we sat on one last ridge glassing and watching the sun slowly sink into the west I am completely satisfied with the hunt and am mostly taking in the beauty of the country and listening to the quail call and the dieing wind gust. At that moment I was so at peace and stress free. If only you could bottle that feeling and sell it. But wait – more hogs way across canyon. Five large pig moving away from us about a mile and a half out. We watch the pig disappear into a draw about the same time the sun leaves us for the day. We quickly close a mile of the gap with the truck and get out and make a forced march to get to where we saw them last. As we topped that ridge we could hear the hogs talking below us. The draw sparse with brush but connected to a main canyon that was thick with brush. As we ever so slowly crept along the side of the hill looking for the pigs the adrenaline built. The hogs have now quit talking and their whereabouts is unknown. Then we spot them bedded in the bottom of the thick canyon about 100 yards down. I stalk downwind from the pigs to get close enough to identify wet vs dry sows. Two very large sows are bedded in the open but both are wet. Two others are side-by-side head to toe and one is wet the other unknown. The fifth of the group is finally spotted laying behind a dead tree and that is the one I wanted. The only problem was the limbs of the tree made for a tough shot. I had one window just behind the shoulder about the size of a 2 litre bottle. Its getting dark, the brush is thick and I know I need to make a good shot. I am now about 60 yards and due to the steep terrain I am forced to shoot free hand (not my favorite shot). I raise the rifle, steady my breathing, squeeze the trigger, and boom. The recoil surprised me so I know I did it right. I quickly chamber another round never taking my eye off the hog. In my peripheral vision I cam see the other four pigs heading up the canyon but not mine. The 200 pound sow never emerged from behind the dead tree. A perfect end to a great hunt.
Anyway on with my story. June 9 and 10 my Dad, my son, and myself planned a two day hunt around the central coast. This hunt was unique since we had several non-hunting family members along with us. The plan was for my wife, son and I to meet my parents and my sister, her husband, and their little baby Thursday afternoon in time to get in an evening hunt. My wife and I picked up my 14 year old son from school right after his last final and we headed north. We arrived at the ranch around 5:00 and the rest of the family was already there. We didn't get out to hunt until after six so we didn't have much time to hunt. As we were loading to go out hunting a wild looking pig approached the truck. Come to find out the pig (Lucky) was born wild but became a regular around the dwellings after its mother was shot. This pig is pretty funny. It goes to bed when the sun goes down and gets up with the roosters. It comes running when the truck pulls in from a hunt. Before loading up I had everybody check the bore of their rifle and inspect the amo after reading OneTracks story. The weather was overcast and windy. We did have time to run out a couple ridgelines and glass a really good looking area right at dark but no pigs were to be found so it was back to the dwellings for a couple of cold ones and a good night sleep.
Friday morning we were rolling a little before five but we were greeted by fog and low visibility. Our plans to get high and glass the pigs as they came out of the barley was not going to work so we set up on a ridge hoping we picked the right one for an ambush. Six o’clock rolled around and the fog was thick and no pigs, 7 o’clock plenty of fog and no pigs, 7:30 the fog finally starts to lift and we can see a little further. As we glassed down the canyon the grass was high and the air was still a little smoky but now and then it looked like a few black dots appeared for a second in the grass. Then more dots, but this time closer. Yes they were pigs and they were coming our way. My son and I were stationed on the draw where the pigs were coming and my dad was watching the draw behind us. As they approached it became obvious that this group was a couple of sows with a bunch of little ones. This group continued up the canyon right below us and they made a lot of noise as they passed 100 yards from our left to our right. As we let this group pass another group of 15-20 hogs were working their way up the same route. We can now hear these pigs but only see them off and on as they approach so we call my Dad over to maybe get a shot. My son and I are set up ready to take shot but only a fraction of the group actually passes through the canyon. They are all sows. First pig wet, second dry, third wet, forth dry. I tell my son take the second and I will take the last one. As I am waiting for his shot I track the last hog in my scope them BOOM. I hear “high”, the pigs take off running. I shoot and miss, my sons second shot connects, m y second and third miss. My Dad gets in on the action and misses. As the hogs make their way out of range we only have one to show for some pretty poor shooting. T least my son tagged a good eater probably around 120 lbs. After the fog lifted we drove around looking for more but nothing was found so it was back to camp for lunch and a nap.
Friday evening we got started about four. The weather was warm and windy so we started hunting by walking out some brushy draws. We hit some good looking country with a lot of sign but nobody was home. We then started working the higher ridges trying to spot something in its bed. About 5:30 we hit a good vantage point and had been glassing for good 10 minutes when we spot a bedded boar not 100 yards from use. My Dad takes the lead and stalks within 15 yards of the hog. The wind was whipping and in our favor and he probably could have jumped on his back and slit his throat if he wanted to but he slowly brought his rifle to his shoulder and let one go. The boar squeals and jumps to its feet and start toward us. A second shot also connects as the pig does a 180 and heads down the canyon a 100 feet or so before coming to rest. It is a young boar around 90 lbs. As we continue our spot and stalk mode of hunting I am thinking how satisfied I am that I have had the opportunity to get together with my family and watch my 14 year old son and 70 year old Dad each take a hog while I watched. As we sat on one last ridge glassing and watching the sun slowly sink into the west I am completely satisfied with the hunt and am mostly taking in the beauty of the country and listening to the quail call and the dieing wind gust. At that moment I was so at peace and stress free. If only you could bottle that feeling and sell it. But wait – more hogs way across canyon. Five large pig moving away from us about a mile and a half out. We watch the pig disappear into a draw about the same time the sun leaves us for the day. We quickly close a mile of the gap with the truck and get out and make a forced march to get to where we saw them last. As we topped that ridge we could hear the hogs talking below us. The draw sparse with brush but connected to a main canyon that was thick with brush. As we ever so slowly crept along the side of the hill looking for the pigs the adrenaline built. The hogs have now quit talking and their whereabouts is unknown. Then we spot them bedded in the bottom of the thick canyon about 100 yards down. I stalk downwind from the pigs to get close enough to identify wet vs dry sows. Two very large sows are bedded in the open but both are wet. Two others are side-by-side head to toe and one is wet the other unknown. The fifth of the group is finally spotted laying behind a dead tree and that is the one I wanted. The only problem was the limbs of the tree made for a tough shot. I had one window just behind the shoulder about the size of a 2 litre bottle. Its getting dark, the brush is thick and I know I need to make a good shot. I am now about 60 yards and due to the steep terrain I am forced to shoot free hand (not my favorite shot). I raise the rifle, steady my breathing, squeeze the trigger, and boom. The recoil surprised me so I know I did it right. I quickly chamber another round never taking my eye off the hog. In my peripheral vision I cam see the other four pigs heading up the canyon but not mine. The 200 pound sow never emerged from behind the dead tree. A perfect end to a great hunt.
