Nic Barca
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Yesterday was the big day hunting once again with DocCherry for feral cattle, although it was more like hunting without DocCherry because as soon as we got in there, we split up and never heard from one another until the end of the day. As it turned out, radios don't work so well in heavily wooded rolling hills. Our 15-mile radius walkie-talkies barely even picked up each other at 500 yards. After a two and a half mile hike in, we split up at the stream. Doc would work his way up the stream hunting cattle while I tried cutting northwest as I worked my way uphill towards the cow pastures in search of a pig or two. I'll spare you the suspense. Doc never saw any cows, or pigs for that matter, but I saw cows and plenty of them. I saw tame cows, skitso cows, big cows, small cows, ugly cows, beautiful cows, cows with horns and cows without, cows with long hair, cows with short, brown cows, ...well, they were all brown. But I was after pigs and it didn't take me too long before I bumped into some. After following a small stream and working along the north side of that gully's edge, I spotted a piglet 25 feet away. This one was your typical black piglet. Then another came out which turned out to be red with a curly tail. "Wow, you don't see that too often out here. Where's mom?" All in all, there were three or four, one or two of which were reddish brown in color. The momma was nowhere in sight and with the wind swirling, likely smelled me some time earlier
I continued on my way passing by numerous little depressions with reed-filled ponds. Some were dry, some were wet, one ended up having about 8 piglets playing in it. They had been playing in the same spot for so long that a little 5 foot wide circle of dirt was worn into the earth. Now, I made a big mistake and was sort of expecting another group of lone piglets. As I tried to get closer for a photo op, mom made a threatening grunt from the bushes on the left side of the swamp. And there she was, not 25 feet away through the sticks staring right at me, a black sow about 130 pounds. I think she thought I was going after her babies and not her. The strait line to her forehead was blocked by a network of thin dry branches but as I crouched down to get a clear line of sight, she made one more loud grunt, turned and bolted away from me through the sticks before turning and running right through her pack of piglets. I followed and fired the first shot of the day, a running shot that I regret trying to make. I checked for blood and found none but then came across one of the little black piglets laying on the ground. At first I thought that I might have accidentally shot it but when I noticed it was just hiding, I went to grab it. But the little guy saw me reaching for him and moved just as my hand was getting close. I had him for a second before he squirmed away squealing. Suddenly, the whole place around me erupted with little piglets and they all ran in the direction the mother had gone. Mom gave another loud noise from on top the hill. I had made another mistake; if I would have just backed off, she probably would have come back for them or at least given her position away while calling.
I continued on and found a cut trail and flagging out in the middle of nowhere. For an hour of two, I followed this trail upwards, or so what I thought was upwards. I got bored with the trail and decided to try going against the wind in hopes of finding more pigs. After all, fresh sign was everywhere. Too bad 20 yards was about as far as I could ever see. But I figured that I must be getting close to the pastures at this point and it should be clearing up.
At some point later, I was walking in the stream gully and spotted a branch shaking up ahead. Turned out it was a fallen sapling about twenty feet long and at its base was a big bull shaking it. He was just coming around the corner and looked in my direction through the sticks. Two slugs got loaded into the gun as a precaution in case he got nuts. But the big guy, about 900 pounds or more, casually walked out without a care in the world. I made some movement in the hopes that he might see me and spook. He stared for a while and actually seemed quite tame. But he was funny looking; the coat was darker brown than normal, the only white on him was a white-speckled collar on the bottom of his neck, he had curls in the fur around that same area, his horns were not very wide, and he looked very skinny in his rear end. After a couple minutes, he just wandered off leaving me thinking that he was a tame cow. Then it occurred to me, perhaps he was part Beefalo??? He did look it and in hindsight, I'm very disappointed to have never taken a picture of him. He looked like a weird skinny cow but was probably raised around people. The Nobrega ranch could easily have had him free ranging where he could wander into adjacent forests.
My theory at first was that if I followed the little stream gully, I would eventually hit the pastures. That tuned out to be wrong. When I finally double checked my map, the stream had at some point turned crosswise against the slope of the mountain. I needed to cross the gulley and head directly west uphill if I were to ever get there. So I did and soon after came across my next cow, a huge red and white bull with stub horns and a forehead that looked two feet wide. After I made my presence known, he wasn't happy and walked a couple feet in my direction as he blew his nose in a threatening way. By the way, he was approaching the 15-hundred pound mark. I slowly backed up to the nearest large tree. ...Not that I could climb the tree even if I had to, I just figured I could keep behind it if he tried to attack me. But after a three minute stare down 40 feet appart, the behemoth moved off, initially slow but I heard him take off running as soon as he got out of sight. After that, I saw wary cows everywhere. They always spooked before I saw them and the times that I did see them far away, they would quickly spot me back. The forest came much more open as I neared the pastures with green grass growing on the ground. The trees thinned out and soon looked like matchsticks. Exposed to strong winds, there were many blow-downs and broken branches laying on the ground. At the fenceline, I told myself I had better start heading back. I looked uphill one last time before heading back and HOLY COW there’s a boar heading right towards me not 70 yards away! I hopped behind a tree but the wind was blowing slowly in his direction. I had better make a shot and soon if I was to have any chance at him. I positioned another tree between us and moved ten yards closer. The boar just kept lumbering in my direction with his ears perked up as I snapped a couple pictures on the still camera. There were a couple times where I thought I was busted for sure, but after each time he began rooting again while working in my direction eventually just 30 yards away. I rested my gun on the ground and prepared for a shot and when he finally turned broadside, I let him have one. BOOM! He turned and started quivering before spinning in circles. I couldn't see where I hit him but it didn't look good so I waited as he spun. As soon as another broadside shot came up, BOOM!! Nothing. ...BOOM!! Some debris bounced off the ground near his feet and his spinning began to slow until he spun himself down to the ground and stopped moving. I walked up and finished him with the knife. It was bad shooting on my part; the first shot hit high in the liver area, although I don't think it hit the liver at all. It did mess up the nervous system in some way or other, damaged the spine, and certainly caused much blood loss which slowed him down further. The two follow up shots seemed to have both missed. He was about 140 pounds with dog-killer size tusks, about 1.5 inches. I cleaned him, took the meat and the jaw and started on my way back. That was the last pig I saw that day. Me and Doc Met up at the trail and walked out. ...well, Doc walked out. My legs were going out from continuously walking for 8 hours so I took a brake under a fallen tree to gain my strength back, eat lunch, and hide from the rain. It was real cold and wet and I resorted to using trash bags under my clothes for added warmth.
The walk out was a bit nerve-racking because a large crowd of people were shooting at the firing range at the trail head and you never know if they might be shooting in your direction or not. As it turned out, they were not shooting in our direction, per say, but one of their targets was up on a hill where, if the bullets ricocheted off the ground, could fly in our direction. I did hear a couple faint zingers while we were walking out. When I did get out, I walked over to see who was causing all the racket and there was a good size group of local looking people, most of whom looked like they were in the army, plus a haole college kid and his girlfriend. I ended up talking with the haole kid and we shot each others guns. He had just taken the hunters safety course the other week and we had a little laugh at how we were both uncomfortable with taking skyline shots while the rest of the guys were blasting away at them. Sometimes it gets a bit scary when your trail head is adjacent to an illegal shooting range. You know too that most people don't know there is a trail nearby. I was ready to blast shots in the air if I ever heard any bullets fly past. Doc made it out at dusk.
I left the jaw in the back of my truck overnight and in the morning a hungry cat had apparently cleaned most the meat off for me.
This first picture is of some bird that I've never seen before. You never know when you might see something that people thought was extinct. ...as for this bird, I've never seen it's picture in any books yet. Almost looks like some kind of hybrid, like a Japanese white-eye and a native bird.
Here's the area as I approached the bottom of the cow pastures. As you can see, the remaining trees are tall and fragile with lots of broken trees laying on the ground. Grass grows on the forest floor.
Here's the boar stopping to listen and smell. I thought for sure he would smell me.
And the boar after:
Looks like the shot was about 8 inches off the mark. Good thing is hit where it hit and not anywhere worse.
And this last picture is just of his curls under his coat. I'm not sure if this is typical of the Polynesian Boar which originated in SE asia, or if it's characteristic of Eurasian Boar. Anyone know?
Sorry for the long post.
I continued on my way passing by numerous little depressions with reed-filled ponds. Some were dry, some were wet, one ended up having about 8 piglets playing in it. They had been playing in the same spot for so long that a little 5 foot wide circle of dirt was worn into the earth. Now, I made a big mistake and was sort of expecting another group of lone piglets. As I tried to get closer for a photo op, mom made a threatening grunt from the bushes on the left side of the swamp. And there she was, not 25 feet away through the sticks staring right at me, a black sow about 130 pounds. I think she thought I was going after her babies and not her. The strait line to her forehead was blocked by a network of thin dry branches but as I crouched down to get a clear line of sight, she made one more loud grunt, turned and bolted away from me through the sticks before turning and running right through her pack of piglets. I followed and fired the first shot of the day, a running shot that I regret trying to make. I checked for blood and found none but then came across one of the little black piglets laying on the ground. At first I thought that I might have accidentally shot it but when I noticed it was just hiding, I went to grab it. But the little guy saw me reaching for him and moved just as my hand was getting close. I had him for a second before he squirmed away squealing. Suddenly, the whole place around me erupted with little piglets and they all ran in the direction the mother had gone. Mom gave another loud noise from on top the hill. I had made another mistake; if I would have just backed off, she probably would have come back for them or at least given her position away while calling.
I continued on and found a cut trail and flagging out in the middle of nowhere. For an hour of two, I followed this trail upwards, or so what I thought was upwards. I got bored with the trail and decided to try going against the wind in hopes of finding more pigs. After all, fresh sign was everywhere. Too bad 20 yards was about as far as I could ever see. But I figured that I must be getting close to the pastures at this point and it should be clearing up.
At some point later, I was walking in the stream gully and spotted a branch shaking up ahead. Turned out it was a fallen sapling about twenty feet long and at its base was a big bull shaking it. He was just coming around the corner and looked in my direction through the sticks. Two slugs got loaded into the gun as a precaution in case he got nuts. But the big guy, about 900 pounds or more, casually walked out without a care in the world. I made some movement in the hopes that he might see me and spook. He stared for a while and actually seemed quite tame. But he was funny looking; the coat was darker brown than normal, the only white on him was a white-speckled collar on the bottom of his neck, he had curls in the fur around that same area, his horns were not very wide, and he looked very skinny in his rear end. After a couple minutes, he just wandered off leaving me thinking that he was a tame cow. Then it occurred to me, perhaps he was part Beefalo??? He did look it and in hindsight, I'm very disappointed to have never taken a picture of him. He looked like a weird skinny cow but was probably raised around people. The Nobrega ranch could easily have had him free ranging where he could wander into adjacent forests.
My theory at first was that if I followed the little stream gully, I would eventually hit the pastures. That tuned out to be wrong. When I finally double checked my map, the stream had at some point turned crosswise against the slope of the mountain. I needed to cross the gulley and head directly west uphill if I were to ever get there. So I did and soon after came across my next cow, a huge red and white bull with stub horns and a forehead that looked two feet wide. After I made my presence known, he wasn't happy and walked a couple feet in my direction as he blew his nose in a threatening way. By the way, he was approaching the 15-hundred pound mark. I slowly backed up to the nearest large tree. ...Not that I could climb the tree even if I had to, I just figured I could keep behind it if he tried to attack me. But after a three minute stare down 40 feet appart, the behemoth moved off, initially slow but I heard him take off running as soon as he got out of sight. After that, I saw wary cows everywhere. They always spooked before I saw them and the times that I did see them far away, they would quickly spot me back. The forest came much more open as I neared the pastures with green grass growing on the ground. The trees thinned out and soon looked like matchsticks. Exposed to strong winds, there were many blow-downs and broken branches laying on the ground. At the fenceline, I told myself I had better start heading back. I looked uphill one last time before heading back and HOLY COW there’s a boar heading right towards me not 70 yards away! I hopped behind a tree but the wind was blowing slowly in his direction. I had better make a shot and soon if I was to have any chance at him. I positioned another tree between us and moved ten yards closer. The boar just kept lumbering in my direction with his ears perked up as I snapped a couple pictures on the still camera. There were a couple times where I thought I was busted for sure, but after each time he began rooting again while working in my direction eventually just 30 yards away. I rested my gun on the ground and prepared for a shot and when he finally turned broadside, I let him have one. BOOM! He turned and started quivering before spinning in circles. I couldn't see where I hit him but it didn't look good so I waited as he spun. As soon as another broadside shot came up, BOOM!! Nothing. ...BOOM!! Some debris bounced off the ground near his feet and his spinning began to slow until he spun himself down to the ground and stopped moving. I walked up and finished him with the knife. It was bad shooting on my part; the first shot hit high in the liver area, although I don't think it hit the liver at all. It did mess up the nervous system in some way or other, damaged the spine, and certainly caused much blood loss which slowed him down further. The two follow up shots seemed to have both missed. He was about 140 pounds with dog-killer size tusks, about 1.5 inches. I cleaned him, took the meat and the jaw and started on my way back. That was the last pig I saw that day. Me and Doc Met up at the trail and walked out. ...well, Doc walked out. My legs were going out from continuously walking for 8 hours so I took a brake under a fallen tree to gain my strength back, eat lunch, and hide from the rain. It was real cold and wet and I resorted to using trash bags under my clothes for added warmth.
The walk out was a bit nerve-racking because a large crowd of people were shooting at the firing range at the trail head and you never know if they might be shooting in your direction or not. As it turned out, they were not shooting in our direction, per say, but one of their targets was up on a hill where, if the bullets ricocheted off the ground, could fly in our direction. I did hear a couple faint zingers while we were walking out. When I did get out, I walked over to see who was causing all the racket and there was a good size group of local looking people, most of whom looked like they were in the army, plus a haole college kid and his girlfriend. I ended up talking with the haole kid and we shot each others guns. He had just taken the hunters safety course the other week and we had a little laugh at how we were both uncomfortable with taking skyline shots while the rest of the guys were blasting away at them. Sometimes it gets a bit scary when your trail head is adjacent to an illegal shooting range. You know too that most people don't know there is a trail nearby. I was ready to blast shots in the air if I ever heard any bullets fly past. Doc made it out at dusk.
I left the jaw in the back of my truck overnight and in the morning a hungry cat had apparently cleaned most the meat off for me.
This first picture is of some bird that I've never seen before. You never know when you might see something that people thought was extinct. ...as for this bird, I've never seen it's picture in any books yet. Almost looks like some kind of hybrid, like a Japanese white-eye and a native bird.
Here's the area as I approached the bottom of the cow pastures. As you can see, the remaining trees are tall and fragile with lots of broken trees laying on the ground. Grass grows on the forest floor.
Here's the boar stopping to listen and smell. I thought for sure he would smell me.
And the boar after:
Looks like the shot was about 8 inches off the mark. Good thing is hit where it hit and not anywhere worse.
And this last picture is just of his curls under his coat. I'm not sure if this is typical of the Polynesian Boar which originated in SE asia, or if it's characteristic of Eurasian Boar. Anyone know?
Sorry for the long post.