Live2hunt
Forever Hunting
- Joined
- Sep 24, 2002
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With the recent rains and the military bases closed to hunting, the three generations (Dad, myself, and son) decided to hit an old public land hog hole in Lake County. Have not been there since 2006 so not expecting to see much but worst case we could scout out the area for up coming spring turkey. The hike in was about 2.5 miles to where we would usually start seeing signs. We headed out in the dark with headlamp flashlights. Right about the 2 miles mark dawn cracked in the horizon and we sat on a log waiting for more light as we started seeing some fresh rootings already. Half an hour later we started working our ways up this ridge and started to see these oak trees with mud cakes on them.
A couple hundred yards down one side of the ridge is where open oak timbers meet the thick chapparals. We scanned the edge of the thick stuff as we slowly moved up along the ridge. Came around a corner and found this.
The mud drippings from whatever made that wallow were still wet and fresh. The tracks headed down towards the thick stuff. Dad followed the tracks down while mini-me and I went around the next finger just incase dad spooked something, it may run towards us. An hour goes by and I was telling mini-me the good hunts of the good ol days and that we were probably the only hunters in the area. Suddenly two shots rang out from a finger ridge coming down on the opposite side of the canyon. We looked across and saw two hogs running up and over the far ridge. Mini-me turned to me and said, "Dad, I thought you said we were the only hunters in the area." I was like, well it's been 10 years since I've been here so some people could have found the hog hole as well. Then dad's voice cracking on the radio, "Come across the canyon, it's going to be a long and heavy pack out." We were so much into thinking about the pack out and forgot to take pictures of the 200 lbs critter until I was preparing the backpacks to load the meat in. I pulled out the camera while looking for plastic bags in the backpack. So I caught this in camera. It was a heavy packout but was nothing compare to other hunts where I had to leapfrog 2 hogs 2 miles to the truck. I was surprise dad was still a stud with a heavy pack on his back and although at a slower pace, could still stomp through those mountains like a goat at age 75.
As it turned out good luck was on our side on the hunting part. Bad luck had gotten to us at home. Early 3am on Sunday dad caught a gallbladder attack and went into the ER. Surgeon removed his gallbladder and he is recovering. Hopefully the surgery won't stop him from stomp those mountains.
A couple hundred yards down one side of the ridge is where open oak timbers meet the thick chapparals. We scanned the edge of the thick stuff as we slowly moved up along the ridge. Came around a corner and found this.
The mud drippings from whatever made that wallow were still wet and fresh. The tracks headed down towards the thick stuff. Dad followed the tracks down while mini-me and I went around the next finger just incase dad spooked something, it may run towards us. An hour goes by and I was telling mini-me the good hunts of the good ol days and that we were probably the only hunters in the area. Suddenly two shots rang out from a finger ridge coming down on the opposite side of the canyon. We looked across and saw two hogs running up and over the far ridge. Mini-me turned to me and said, "Dad, I thought you said we were the only hunters in the area." I was like, well it's been 10 years since I've been here so some people could have found the hog hole as well. Then dad's voice cracking on the radio, "Come across the canyon, it's going to be a long and heavy pack out." We were so much into thinking about the pack out and forgot to take pictures of the 200 lbs critter until I was preparing the backpacks to load the meat in. I pulled out the camera while looking for plastic bags in the backpack. So I caught this in camera. It was a heavy packout but was nothing compare to other hunts where I had to leapfrog 2 hogs 2 miles to the truck. I was surprise dad was still a stud with a heavy pack on his back and although at a slower pace, could still stomp through those mountains like a goat at age 75.
As it turned out good luck was on our side on the hunting part. Bad luck had gotten to us at home. Early 3am on Sunday dad caught a gallbladder attack and went into the ER. Surgeon removed his gallbladder and he is recovering. Hopefully the surgery won't stop him from stomp those mountains.
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