SD and OT are back!

[One Track]

Hey Y'all:

We had a great Pig O Rama. Can you say "TUSKER?" Can you say "Tuskerama?" Can you say "TUSKEROSA?"

Sorry to leave you guys hangin'. However, I just got the truck cleaned up and some backstrap ready for the grill. My kids are hungry, and need some lovin'. I'll get back on here later tonight.

Thanks for all the well wishes.

Brent

 

[Rancho Loco]

Hey!! Who's more important - us or the kids?!?!?

 

[SDHNTR]

Pics coming. Gimme a few minutes. OT, you're up for storytime.

 

[Rancho Loco]

He's writing a freaking novel..

 

[SDHNTR]

B-diddy's big tusker

 

[SDHNTR]

my dude

 

[Rancho Loco]

Wooohooo!!!

Give up the story, I've gotta go to bed soon.

 

[Speckmisser]

Congrats, Brent and SD! Glad to hear you guys scored... especially you, Brent. You've sure had it coming!

Looking forward to the story.

 

[CAjackrabbitWCP]

Now that is what I call a set of chompers. Congradualtions guys.

I'm looking foreward to sticking one this upcoming weekend.

CAjackrabbitWCP

 

[One Track]

Okay, the old boar didn't taste bad, but it wasn't very tender. Kinda like chewin' on an old baseball glove. Pretty tough stuff. But, we ate it up!

Nate asked me to write this report. He has a young fiance at home, and didn't think he would get around to mesmerizing us with his masterful prose. I don't usually have as much to say. Therefore, this will be short.

Well, it all started out with a phone call from Nate (SDHNTR.) He asked if I wanted to sign up for the POR in December. I told him that I really wasn't interested, cuz ridin' in the truck with him is like driving by a feed lot that never ends. Alright. It's not that bad. Probably no worse than riding with me. Actually, I never have been interested in a December POR because I'm too focused on trying to kill an archery buck in my local mountains. Giving up a weekend up there, is hard for me to do. That's why I don't hunt ducks. Well, as the season went on, I fould the lack of buck sightings a good excuse to hit that snooze button over and over, until I finally hit the off button. I think you all know what I'm talkin' about. (This is a very long introduction paragraph.) As the 'local bowhunting' fire in me was fading, I thought again about the Dec. POR. After all, everybody I know that has hunted Tejon in December has told me it's the best hoggin' month. So, I gave Barbara a call and found that there were only four spots available on the south side. By 10am the next day, she had Nate's and my paperwork and credit card numbers. We slipped in at the bell.

So, the countdown started. Six weeks, five weeks...... until finally, it was Thursday night. I set my alarm for 3:45am. At the first buzz, I jumped out of bed, hopped in the truck and I was westbound and down, loaded up and truckin'. At 4:30 I pulled up to Nate's house as his garage door was going up. In no time, we were checking in at Tejon HQ. It's always fun arriving at Tejon, scanning the hills for hogs, and filled with anticipation. This year, as soon as you were registered and sat through a seminar, you were free to enter the ranch. We didn't have to wait for 12 noon and we were stoked.

As we drove past the gate, I debated with myself, and Nate, whether to set up camp, or go look for hogs. Considering we had a new Big Horn Outfitter Tent, complete with wood burning stove, and still in the box, we decided we'd better get that thing set up in the light of day. So, we did. (What an awesome tent!) By 11am, we were in four wheel drive and headin' for my favorite secret area. I was excited for Nate, as it was his first time on the ranch. He's killed a gaggle of hogs, and has seen plenty of ranches. But, this ranch is special, at least in my eyes.

We got to an area that usually holds hogs. We start glassing and they usually pop out a hour or less before dark. I just finished showing Nate the spot where I killed a hog with a 357mag. Then, it happened! Across the canyon and up high on a slope was a good hog movin' out. Nate sprang from the truck and jacked a round. KAAABLAM!!! KAABLAM!!!! The hog kept going. I saw that the last shot was low, and ranged what looked to be about 150 yards. It was 295. Welcome to Tejon. At the shot, another group of five or six hogs took off in the next canyon over. They were at 800 yards, as we watched them run over the ridge. It was awesome to see that many pigs, at 11:30, on the first day. We checked for blood and found nothing.

The weather was perfect! I mean, it was.....perfect. The temp was probably 50, and clouds blocked the sun. It felt like rain was coming, but never did.

We were jacked! We continued on down a secret road. Not five minutes passed and Nate was yelling, "HOG! Right there laying down, under that tree! Big boar!" We had talked about our goals earlier. Nate wanted a 150 bl. meat pig. I was holding out for a boar, with good tusks. That's been my MO for the last three years. For some reason, I have taken all sows on my previous hunts. Nate was riding with his rifle between his legs. Mine was in the back, under my backpack and stuff. The hogs got nervous. Nate was waiting for me to get on that boar. I was too slow. He took off, and guess what ensued. Another twenty or thirty hogs blew out and crossed in front of us at 75 yards. I couldn't find any tusks in my scope, and never pulled the trigger. Nate might have shot. But, I'm not sure with all the excitement busting loose.

On we went. This is by the far the best start of a POR I have experienced in nine total. It was coo coo. On we went, navigating my secret roads. About a half hour later, we stopped to glass some big canyons before driving through the area. Nate asked if I had ever seen hogs in this spot. I looked out the window and replied, "You mean like that one?" "What one?" I said too calmly as I pointed, "Right there, next to the truck." There was a hog twenty feet from the truck, and he just mosied across the road in front of us. Well, I didn't know Nate couldn't see him. When he did, he popped out of the truck, took a knee and didn't shoot. I'm sippin' on some water, and wonderin', "What the heck is wrong with Nate. Why didn't he shoot?" Come to find out, a scope on 6 power doesn't work on a hog at twenty feet. At last, the hog was over the hill and into the thick stuff. I may have heard a shot, but I'm not certain.

Now, I'm just gettin' real accustomed to seein' all these hogs in the first hour of our hunt. My goal is rising like skyrockets in the night. I want a big boar. On we go. Down the hill and out to my stompin' grounds, where I only ever see one or two other trucks all weekend. We pulled up to a few places where I can walk a short distance to a nice glassing spot. We glassed around for awhile, hitting a few great spots, and it was in one of my very secret little nook and cranny that Nate waved me over. We had spread out about 150 yards or so, enabling us to see into different pockets. No kiddin'! This 28 year old La Jollan, has eagle eyes. He was gesturing to me in a way that said, "Run. Pick it up you old fart, and get over here. Boar. Boar." Well, these ankles ain't as good as they once was. I was kinda half trotting, more concerned with keeping my breathing under control. I might have to act quick and pull down on a boar quicklike. I was right. Nate had found a boar. He wanted me to shoot it right now. I looked through the bouncing scope and couldn't put tusks on that hog. Nate really wanted me to kill that hog. But, I just couldn't pull the trigger until I saw some bone. He assured me that it had bone. I sat down and studied him with my 10x. "I'm not seein' any tusks Nate." Nate thought I was nuts. He assured me that he could see a pecker on that hog, and that I had better kill him before he works into the oaks. I had to let him go. Nate is a killer. By nature, he can't help himself. He's just got killer all tied up in him. I passed and the hog slipped away. I think it was a long walk back to the truck for Nate. He might have been thinkin' that 'ole One Track just ain't got it in him to pull the trigger. I am very appreciative for his unselfishness in calling me over. That's a dang good huntin' buddy. Soon, night fell. We spotted a few other hogs down deep in the abyss, where they always are.

Back at camp. Eat, Drink. Talk. Sleep in our new tent that was running about 85 degrees. Get up. Head out for another incredible day.

This time, we headed in another direction. And, we waited until light before moving down the road. Not ten minutes after light, we had hogs. Yes, three hogs, and they were big! Big hogs! Black gold. Next thing you know, ole Nate's a jumping out, jackin' a round, and squarin' up. But, the hogs kept going, and behind dem trees they went. Just then, a fourth pops out, and he's big! Nate adjusts, and the hog two-steps it back behind the brush. Nate moves down the line twenty yards, and takes a knee, again. I run in behind him and now see the hog that he's on. A big dog hog. Black like the Ace of Spades. In my head, I'm sayin', take your time dude, take your time, don't take your love to town. BAM!

That hog reared up like Silver, and squeeled like a pig. He stood on his hind legs for a few good seconds, and then, just started tumbling down the hill. Not in my wildest dreams did I expect for us to kill a hog 100 yards from the truck. The shot was more like 160, and Nate put one in him that broke his heart. Or, one that literally blew his heart away. That, my friends, was some good shootin'. We loaded him up and headed for the scales. We were guessing 140 pounds. Well, we were wrong. That boar went 157! Nate got exactly what he wanted, a 150 lber, and an easy recovery. Little did we know that this easy retrieval would be offset in a few short hours.

After hitting the scales, we drove on up to have breaky at Big Johns in Frazier Park. Big bad John's to be exact. Not only is John big, he frys up a mean Chicken Fried Steak. We ate too much and enjoyed every bite. Nothin' better than going to breakfast with red handprints all over your trousers, and smellin' like boar blood.

Back to camp, and Nate did a quick skinnin' job on Boar #1. We were back up the mountain, and glassin' in no time. We split up to glass different canyons. After a half hour or so, I realized why Nate took the north side of the ridge. Cuz he's smart. Cuz the wind was coming out of the south. I was freezin. It was butass cold. I made my way around the point and Nate met me half way. He was all pumped up. "Dude, I've got a boar! He's got 3 inch cutters. He's big." Being the cool hand Luke that I am, I said, "Okie dokie, let's just take a look with my 15x's. I calmly set up the tripod, and then ranged him at 440. I focused in on him, and OH YAH! He's got tusks. I got up and asked Nate what he thought. In between us and the boar, was a nastly "hellhole." Straight down, and straight up. We knew the recovery would suck. I'd passed on hogs in the same spot before. But, I was NOT passin' on a boar with all that bone stickin' out it's mouth. I told him that I'd be over there in 15 minutes. I took off, and Nate told me not to break an ankle down there.

I made it to the bottom in less than five minutes. Then, across the creek, pig central, all cut up, hopin' I'd see another big boar before havin' to go up that hill in front of me. On I went. Talk about a lung buster. Dang. I was feelin' my age. My head was tellin' me to run. My lungs were just laughing. About every twenty steps toward space, I'd take a breather. I stayed down wind and came in under the oaks. I set up at a log, where I thought I should be able to relocate this bad to the bone boar. He was in some snagally brush and it took me a few minutes to find him. I ranged him at 146 yards, uphill. I figured that I'd just hold right on him. I set up the good ole BDL 30-06 and turned the scope up to nine. After a few more minutes, he cleared the brush, and my heart rate had settled. I snuggled up to Old Faithful and wrapped the tip of Mr. Pointer around the trigger. Thumbed the safety, zeroed and started shaking. What the? No, I'm not a flincher I told myself. I regrouped and concentrated on a real slow squeeze, and Puh Juuu! The hog hunched up and bolted downhill. He got into the sage-lookin' stuff and I let another one rip. I lost sight of him. Nate saw the whole thing, and knew that he was down. I wasn't so sure. It's always fun approaching a hog in the brush. Pucker factor squared. Nate guided me in and I fould him layin' out flat up against a bush.

Holy Tooth Fairy, Batman! My ship came in. After 9 POR's, I finally had a good boar. I was in Hog Heaven. So was he. He's a great specimen. Uppers and lowers are in perfect condition. I pulled out the radio, and discussed the dealio with Nate, my spottin', glassin' fool of a buddy. He tried driving my truck up to above where I was, but no cigar. We have about 1,000 feet of rope. I worked on the hog, and Nate drove back to the original glassing spot. He strung out a bunch of rope which came within fifty yards of where I was able to kick and roll the hog. But, with all the trees and brush and snags we decided to quarter out this old stud, and hump him out the old fashioned way, one half at a time. Okay, three halves. We did it. It was gnarly, it was steep, and it hurt. But, we managed with the pack frames, and the Badlands 2200 Super Slam Ham Jam. I was at the scales by 3:30pm on Saturday.

Much thanks goes to my buddy, Nate, for helping me spot, cape, skin, quarter, bone, and pack that protein-fortified beast up the ladder. No kiddin'. This kid is wanted by Benihana's Recruitment Department. Nate is a dang good hand. We had that hog sliced and diced quicker than I jumped up when the alarm rang out. I gotta tell ya. There are pros and cons to hanging out in the hills with a guy thirteen years younger. He'll bust your lungs to pieces, and make you wish you stayed in bed. However, he's there for the pack out, and he can pack an extra ten pounds more than me without cryin' about it. I'm already packin' an extra twenty.

No kiddin'. What a trip. Nate continued to tell me how incredible this boar was. I didn't really know. Never gave tusks too much attention in the past. Just knew I wanted to kill one and put it on the wall. At the scale, Barbara was almost giddy. She said that she had never seen a boar with such of set of uppers AND lowers. Most of the time, they're all broken up. He must not have been battling with the other boars. He didn't have any cuts to speak off, and his sheath wasn't more than a 1/4 thick. He did have a bad shoulder where he'd been hit before. We fould the infection and some lead. You know, that old boar was probably just like me, just a lover, not a fighter.

Thanks to all of you who actually were able to read this entire story. Hope I didn't get you in trouble with the boss.

We checked out of the ranch at about 11am on Sunday, and there were 29 hogs checked in at the south gate. They were well over a 50% success rate. I figured they would end up at 80%, given what we had been seeing.

You can stop scrolling down for photos now. I'm still using a real film camera. Nate, you out there? Get these boys some photos and add some stuff that I forgot. Also, feel free to go in and fix typos and grammantical errors.

Good trip buddy. Thanks.

 

[rusman66]

Great Job guys, sounds like a helluva time.

 

[DILPRXO]

Outstanding! Congrats guys..especially you Brent...was quietly hoping for ya..you really deserved this one

 

[grtwythunter]

Great job guys. Glad to see Brent made home without any leaks.

Scott

 

[SacFireJT]

Great job guys! And you had great weather!

 

[Rancho Loco]

Awesome chit!

 

[VHRAM]

NICE PIGS CONGRATS

 

[SDHNTR]

Wow, great read there my man. Not much left to add to that. I've seen lots of big boars in my day and even shot a couple myself, but I've never seen a set of perfectly matched choppers like that. Did you ever put a tape on them? 3 1/2"? The uppers (whetters) were as big around as a quarter too!


I'll tell you what, all of Brent's patience and restraint sure paid of here and I'm glad I was there to experience it. If you'd passed that one up I'd of kicked your old butt down into that canyon myself.

It was really a great weekend. That ranch was awesome and I'm glad I got to see it with someone who knew it well. It would be an intimidating place for a first timer without direction. The number of hogs we saw was just astounding. I've hunted probably some of the state's best central coast ranches and Tejon was at least on par, if not better, than those ranches in terms of hog numbers. We saw groups of pigs every time out. I'd bet we saw 75 hogs from Friday PM to Sunday AM.

Brent thanks for being kind to me in that story. "I'm not sure if he shot", yeah right! I did, and I missed 3 hogs before killing mine. The first one I have absolutely no excuse for at all. I should've drilled that one. The second group, I waited a bit too long to see if Brent was gonna kill the big pig and then I tried to pick up another one after they hauled butt running through a small clearing into the brush. Then the last one I had no idea there was a hog right next to us when ole One Track says in his best monotone, ho-hum voice that there is a pig right there. When it crossed in front of me it was only about 10 yards and I had a tough time getting him in the scope. I took a running shot just as he got to the brush and no dice. So yes I missed three hogs. Oh well. Somebody has to keep the ammo companies in business. It worked out in the end and we got just what we wanted. We had an agreement before the hunt that, if possible, Brent wanted a big boar with nice teeth and I just wanted one for the table. It just so happened to work out that way. My 157 lbr (field dressed) makes my 20th hog and will fit quite nicely in the freezer between what is left of this year's deer and antelope.

Brent, congrats on another fine addition to your trophy room. Just next time, drop one uphill from the road please. Seriously, thanks for bringing me along, I had an incredible time! I'll be your pack mule anyday.

 

[Speckmisser]

Excellent, excellent!

That's what Tejon is all about, fellas! Well done, and well told!

Now I've really got the fever! Need to kill me a hog!

 

[Suzmar1997]

Congrats guys! Hell of a story and great pics. Now I'm really kicking myself for not signing up for this POR. My Dad and I thought about it, and after reading your story it's killing me that we didn't go. Oh well, I'm sure we'll manage to hit the one with tons of rain and mud. Did you score the beast where you took the infamous shot last Ham Slam?

 

[One Track]

Thanks guys. I wish you all could have been there. It was the best I've ever seen. All of you guys would have killed. I can't believe that the whole camp wasn't tagged out by Sunday morning.

Suzmar: It may have been near the spot where my 7mag blew up. And then again, it may have been 20 miles away.