2012 South Texas Hog Hunt

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

     Mike and I both went into work that morning. Why we didn’t just take the whole day off, I still haven’t figured out. We both watched the clock until noon when we both bolted out the door and headed to our homes to load up and hit the road for the 1100-mile drive from the mountains of North Carolina to South Texas.

       We drove straight through and arrived at the ranch around 6:00 a.m. on Thursday morning. We quickly unpacked and headed towards the deer blinds, as we knew the sun would soon be rising. Mike decided to take the Far blind and I decided to sit in the Maddie blind. Out of the five blinds on the ranch, we felt these two would be the most productive. We got settled in just as the sun began to rise and I could occasionally hear pigs squealing directly behind the corn feeder, which was about sixty yards in front of me. We texted back and forth patiently waiting for the hogs to show themselves. I kept hearing pigs ever so often but they never presented themselves. I texted Mike and told him I was going to go and stalk them.

     I quietly exited the blind and began to make my way towards the direction of the pigs. The morning sky was mixed with clouds of gray and a slight wind was in my face as I began to enter the mesquite brush and cactus behind the feeder. Taking a few steps then waiting, I caught a glimpse of movement off to my left and saw two coyotes at fifty yards. They were just milling around among the mesquite trees and I waited for the chance to raise my 30 06 model 700. I lost sight of them and I took that opportunity to raise my rifle and rest on a mesquite trunk. Just a few seconds passed when they reappeared and stopped. I placed my crosshairs on one and gently squeezed off the 165 gr. Hornady Interlock I had reloaded with 53.9 grains of IMR 4350. The shot landed on cue and dropped the coyote as the other vanished. My first kill with my own reloads.

     Moments later my camouflage pants vibrated. I knew it was Mike enquiring as to what was up. I relayed via text what had just transpired and attempted to communicate my elation with multiple exclamation points and smiley faces.

     I decided to leave the first kill of the hunt and continue stealthily towards the pigs. I looked around and tried to look for a landmark to help locate the coyote on the way back. Cactus and mesquite, it all looks the same. I hadn’t heard the pigs for a while and didn’t know if they had been spooked or not after the shot. I eased my way towards what appeared to be a creek bed and began seeing more pig sign. Trails began to merge and became more pronounced. Pig feces, tree rubs and rooting were all around me.  As I moved down the slight embankment into the creek bed I once again caught movement.

     Forty yards directly in front of me across the creek, I watched and counted at least twenty pigs moving from my left paralleling the creek bed. As they made their way through the cactus and mesquite I noticed they appeared to methodically be running in single file. They were on the move but I’m confident they weren’t spooked into an all out run. I raised my rifle, but finding a candidate in my scope was next to impossible through the dense foliage. Just as quick as they appeared, they were gone. Even though I had not been able to get a shot at one, I was actually elated that I had seen the pigs the first morning of our arrival.

      Getting up that morning at 6:00 a.m.,“working” till noon, then driving a straight 16 hours, I was thinking to myself that I might be a bit tired. I knew we still had to drive into town and pick up some ice for the coolers, bags of corn, and incidentals before we could actually get back to the cabin and rest our eyes for a whole two or three hours before we headed back out for the evening hunt.

     As I turned to head back, I decided to follow the creek bed back as I knew it would eventually come to the road that I could follow back to the deer blind. I also had a coyote on the ground I wanted to find on the way back as well. My pace was a full out sprint compared to the earlier morning sneak. After finding a dry place to cross back over the creek I noticed what appeared to be a big black pig sleeping right next to a muddy pool of water in the creek bed.

     Standing just twenty yards from the black mass, I peered through my scope to get a better look. It really was a pig. It’s back was facing me so I aimed at the back of it’s head. I shot and nothing happened. No movement, nothing. I knew I had hit it and if I hadn’t, I knew it would have jumped up and bolted as though someone was shooting at it. I was somewhat perplexed as I made my way up to the massive black beast.     
     What I thought was the back of it’s head was actually it’s neck. It had no head.  I had just shot a pig that had been previously been killed a few days earlier. I had forgotten my brother-in-law, Eric, had told me about a big boar taken earlier that week by a visiting big game hunter from Africa. This was his first feral hog and he apparently planned on mounting it’s head. This was a first for me as well as I’ve never shot a headless pig before, but I knew it would be quite the challenge to find a taxidermist to mount a pig neck, so I left it lay.

     My pants vibrated again. I told Mike what I had done and after receiving multiple LOLs we decided to meet at the truck and head into town. Getting closer to the road the dense brush was thinning as the pin oaks became more numerous. The creek bed began to disappear into the leaves as I rapidly walked imagining how sweet it was going to be to finally get some shuteye. Not paying any attention or trying to be quiet, I walked as though I was on a mission, a mission to get to that truck.

     Looking to my right as I heard leaves rustling twenty-five or so yards away, appeared two hogs that saw me the instant I saw them. I’m convinced they were just as surprised to see me, as I was them! They began to run back towards the creek when I raised my rifle and found the big red one in my scope. Placing the crosshairs on the hog’s head, I shot and it went down. The other hog ran out of sight as I watched the fallen hog breath it’s last. I couldn’t believe what had just happened, and in a matter of seconds!

     My adrenaline was pumping and my thoughts of slumber were on hold. I didn’t text Mike, I called him. Speaking faster than a radio advertisement disclaimer, I told him what had happened as if he could understand anything I was saying. After a few minutes of repeating myself, but at a slower pace, I managed to tell him to just blow the dang horn in the truck so I could meet up with him quicker. I took my white undershirt and hung it on a limb above the downed hog and headed towards the honking.

     With the truck in view, Mike met me behind the feeder as we searched for the coyote. After locating it we took a couple pictures and then headed back into the woods to locate the white flag I had left to locate the downed hog. It wasn’t far at all and stood out like a white t-shirt hanging in a tree. The animal was massive and emitted an aroma fit for a hog. We estimated it weighed around three hundred fifty pounds. It was hairier than most pigs we’ve seen and had a definite red hue to it’s coat. It’s tusks were apparent but not the length that would constitute a head mount. After taking numerous pictures, we made our way back to the truck.

     The half hour ride into Seguin allowed us to talk about the morning’s events. Mike is an avid outdoorsman who lives to hunt and we always enjoy sharing details of our hunting and fishing excursions with one another, but after the seventh time describing the details of my eventful morning, I felt as though it was becoming somewhat redundant. My adrenaline flow was rapidly slowing, and once again, thoughts of real food and slumber began to consume my thoughts.

     After picking up the deer corn and stopping off at Wally World for bread and lunchmeat, we stopped off at Davila’s BBQ to have lunch.  After consuming large amounts of brisquet, sausage and white bread, our topic of discussion was that of sleep depravity and it’s effects on the human male. We calculated that neither of us had slept in over thirty hours and determined that attempting to get some sleep would be our next objective.

     We got back to camp around one o’clock and made a beeline for the bunks. I’ve always appreciated a good nap, but after that two-hour slumber I knew I had found my calling in life. Sleep had taken on a whole new meaning and the thought of getting up out of the bunk bed was the last thing I wanted to do. Leave it to Mike to talk me out of fulfilling my destiny, but hey, what are friends for? We roused around and debated on what blinds to sit in for the evening. After a few minutes of trying to determine where the pigs would come out, we decided to sit in the same two blinds we sat in that morning.

     Settling into our blinds around 3:30 that afternoon, the South Texas sky maintained the cloud cover we had observed throughout the day and with the temperatures in the upper fifties, we had decided that the odds were in our favor. Eric had texted earlier and asked what blinds we were going to be in as he was planning on coming out and hunt with us. He said he would take the Tall blind. The Tall blind is the only blind that is elevated off the ground and is accessed by climbing a ten-foot ladder. The corn feeder there is pushing 160 yards straight in front and the blind presents an almost 360 degree view overlooking mesquite trees, cactus, open fields, and a tank. A tank is a small man made pond created to hold water after rains for cattle to drink from.

     Sitting in the Maddie blind again that evening, (named after Madeline, Eric’s oldest daughter), I noticed that the wind had died down and things were very quiet. No pig squealing, no coyotes yelling. Cardinals and small dove were pecking around on the ground in front of me at the corn we had put out earlier. I watched a couple of doe come through and graze for a while. It was very peaceful and relaxing. I reflected back to the anticipation of the trip. We had been looking forward to this for months and now it was upon us. We were in Texas hunting hogs, right at that moment. No work, no cell phones, just the big Texas sky, mesquite trees, cactus, and Lord willing, pigs.

     As I was appreciating the moment with sunset approaching, I heard a “ka pop”. The “ka” was the shot and the “pop” was the pop when the bullet hit the…. hog? My camo pants vibrated. I told Mike it wasn’t me and if it wasn’t him, it must have been Eric. I texted Eric and asked if he had shot and he the proceeded to inform me that he had shot a hog. Sweet. I was glad he had got one, but there was still plenty of light left before sundown for Mike and I to possibly get one before it got too dark to see.

     Half an hour had passed as I watched the birds and deer outside the blind when I thought I saw movement off to my left. I was pretty sure I had just caught a glimpse of something black disappear from the road into the brush. It was beginning to get dark and I wasn’t for sure if I had seen something or not. If I had, it would be heading through the thick brush towards the feeder and would momentarily reappear at the feeder. I stuck my rifle out of the shooting window, rested it a top the sill and waited for the black shadow to materialize. There in front of me at the feeder appeared two black hogs. They both appeared at ease and began feeding on the corn. I knew that if I could stop hyperventilating I stood a really good chance of dropping one. My heart was pumping blood through my veins so forcefully I could feel every capillary in my body fixing to explode. After a minute or two of adrenaline overload, I managed to keep my rifle from shaking out of my hands and placed the crosshairs a couple of inches below the hog’s ear. I waited for the moment it would hesitate from the constant bobbing as it foraged on the corn. The moment came and I shot. The hog dropped and the second pig ran back into the brush. Hyperventilating round two. My heart and breathe rate once again raced as I knew I had done it and had a hog on the ground to prove it.

     Mike texted and I told him that it was me that had shot that time and that I had a hog down. He decided to come back through and pick me up. It was well after dark by the time he arrived and we both inspected the boar. The hog weighed around 200 pounds and due to the stench it allowed, it might as well have been an elderly swamp ape with a ruptured puss pocket.  Making every effort not to get any more of the animal’s rank smell on us after getting some pictures, it still managed to empty it’s bladder on us as we managed to heave the hog into the truck. We then headed towards the graveyard.  

     The male pigs, or boars, are just down right nasty. Not only do they stink to high heaven, the meat can be used as a substitute for potted possum jelly. Needless to say, we don’t eat boars. The graveyard is a field about 200 yards from the cabin where you drag the boars with a rope behind your truck. If you forget a rope you get to heave the hog by hand into the back of your truck and touch it more than you’d like.  

     We met Eric back at the cabin and the three of us decided to ride a few miles down the road to a local establishment for some fellowship and a steak dinner. Eric indicated he was buying and Mike and I were more than willing to oblige his hospitality. It was getting close to eight o’clock and even though we were dead dog tired, the thought of a free steak dinner gave us a second wind. We walked into the renovated barn with high expectations only to find that they were fixing to close. So we disappointingly got back in our vehicles, drove twenty miles, and ate hamburgers at the What-a-Burger. After devouring the #1 combos,      Eric told us that on our drive back to the ranch to be on the watch for pigs crossing the dirt road leading up to the ranch’s property.

     The long feeding troughs for the cattle to feed from were apparently hot spots for pigs at night. As we turned the corner nearing the cattle, we slowed the truck in the event we might catch a glimpse of a pig or two. What we witnessed next resembled the scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, where hundreds of rats poured through a portal and flowed like a raging river. Tightly grouped, very small pigs were running across the road directly in front of us. We both sat silently in disbelief at the shear number. Just when we thought we had seen the last to cross, we watched one lone piglet that couldn’t have weighed more than a baby Chihuahua scurry across doing it’s best to catch up. We knew Texas had a pig problem, but this was downright unbelievable.

     Getting back to the cabin, we decided to clean up a bit and hit the sack. We were thankful the cabin had running water and that a shower had been installed recently. Unfortunately, the water coming out of the showerhead smelled as though it was being strained through rotten eggs dating back to the Ming Dynasty. Even though the water was actually clean, the stench was so strong due to the high sulfur content that we opted to just wipe down with paper towels.  Once again we relived the day’s events and soon after we were sound asleep dreaming of nailing hogzilla the next day.

Day 2

​In what seemed of matter of minutes after going to bed, Mike’s phone alarm went off. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so soundly in my life. I heated some bottled water in the microwave for some instant coffee, Mike was tanking up on Mt. Dew, and it wasn’t long before we headed out. This time Mike opted for the Maddie blind and I decided to try my luck in the Far blind.  We got up in plenty of time before sunrise and after dropping Mike off, I headed on over to the Far blind. I parked his truck about 75 yards from the blind and grabbed my pack and rifle to walk the road on over to the blind. I sensed something wasn’t quite right as I grabbed my rifle. That wasn’t my rifle. That was Mike’s rifle.  Apparently he had grabbed mine by mistake. The sun was still laying low and I had plenty of time to drive back and make the switch.

     Getting settled in to my blind I put on my headgear as the wind was beginning to pick up and my ears were becoming quite cold. The dawn began to reveal another overcast sky and we really didn’t know what the weather was going to do. It was definitely chilly and I was thankful I packed my hunting jacket. As the sun began to rise and begin it’s daily trek, it felt as though the temperature dropped 10 degrees in a matter of about 12 seconds. I was also thankful I had packed my gloves and preceded to slip them on, when close to the feeder, I watched a coyote trot across the road. The feeder was sitting 120 yards in front of me and just as quick as the coyote appeared it disappeared into the brush. Well, that was a bummer. Even if I hadn’t been putting on my gloves, I still wouldn’t have had enough time to get my rifle up and get an accurate shot off. That’s what I kept telling myself the rest of the morning as I saw nothing else worthy of lead other than the coyote.

     Mike and I periodically texted back in forth throughout the morning.  He had watched a few deer earlier but had not heard or seen any swine. By now it was getting close to 10:00 and we decided to head back to the cabin to eat and strategize a stalk hunt. We had decided that during the day we would make our way through the property to possibly come up on the pigs as they would be more than likely be bedding down in the thick brush or in the muddy creek beds. We wanted to increase our odds if at all possible to bag the feral pigs and knew the more time we were actually in the woods our chances would be that much better. For the evening we would be back in the blinds waiting for them to come out of their lair to feed on the corn.  

     After our sandwiches, chips, and Little Debbies, we laid down for a short snooze.  The cloud cover was still hovering from one horizon to the other as rain appeared imminent. We loaded up and drove over to the Far blind to begin our stalk. Eric had told us that there was a rather large ravine that ran through the property and thought it might be a prime area for resting pigs, so we headed out into the brush to see what we could find.

     We made our way into the unfamiliar terrain. We would walk a few paces, wait a minute or so, then move again. As we approached what appeared to be a low lying creek bed, the cacti and mesquite that blanketed the better part of the ranch began to thin. Fertile green grass and dark, damp soil began to envelope us. The canopy of trees shaded what little light the sun was attempting to display through the heavy dark clouds. This was not the ravine but never the less looked to us like prime pig habitat. Kneeling down, we quietly agreed we would continue on when we both caught movement.

     Thirty yards in front of us we saw an animal through the trees. A lone coyote was cautiously making it’s way across our intended route.  Kneeling a foot or two and slightly angled behind me, I knew Mike was anxious to draw blood and was going to take a shot. Just as I began to raise my left hand to cover my ear, the percussion and decibel level of his deafening shot sent lightening bolts throughout my entire body. Dazed and confused I was utterly dumbfounded and could not believe he couldn’t wait for my arm to travel another six inches to place my hand over my ear. The high-pitched ringing in my ear stayed for the remainder of our trip and reminded me how much I appreciated having Mike as my best friend.

     The coyote was no match for Mike’s .270 and the 135 grain silver tip introduced itself in quite an abrupt manner. We made our way over to what was left of the small coyote and took a few photos of Mike’s first kill of the trip. He apologized for his momentary lapse of a brain and said he really didn’t think about it as everything happened so fast.  It was all good and we were both thankful he was able to claim the kill.

     We decided to maintain a twenty-yard girth between us as we continued our stalk through the low land. Pig trails began to appear and our pace began to slow when I glanced back at Mike to see his hand motioning me to get down. I immediately saw a line of pigs making their way towards us on the other side of Mike. We both kneeled as the pigs trotted one by one in single file heading our way. I knew this was Mike’s chance to bag a hog.

     With Mike in between the pigs and me, I had a prime location to watch the event unfold. I watched Mike raise his semi-auto and aim in the direction of the pigs when the lead pig angled it’s direction straight towards Mike. The pigs had no idea we were lying in wait and as the large black pig rapidly closed the gap, and at a mere twenty yards, Mike unleashed his first bullet. Expecting the pig to drop in it’s tracks, we watched the pigs turn and scatter back towards the direction they came. Disbelief and confusion appeared out of nowhere as I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that he had missed.

I knew how bad he wanted to kill his first pig. The previous year we had taken the same trip. I had killed one boar between the two us and for the next year we spoke often of going again the following year, anxiously looked forward to a better hunt and his first hog. Here we were, a year later and his time had come, and gone.

     As the pigs ran off, Mike stood and began to take advantage of his semi-auto rifle. I watched the desperation as the shots echoed through the woods. Between the fifteen or twenty hogs he fired at, we watched them all run away. I’ll never forget what I witnessed next as long as I live. I watched as if in slow motion, as in a dream, Mike begin to run after the pigs. My heart sank as I watched his desperation turn into an all out sprint as he bolted through the trees after the pigs. Mike is physically fit for his age, but even an NFL running back would have been no match for the fleeing pigs. He chased his dream as if it would be his last opportunity in this life to ever kill a pig. Mere moments later he and the pigs were gone. I stood in disbelief and in utter silence reliving what I had just witnessed.

     I then heard a shot, and then another. I made my way through the briars and trees and found Mike grinning ear to ear giving me a thumbs up. He got his pig. He had shot a red sow during his shooting frenzy and had clipped it’s back legs. She was still able to run but at a much slower pace and he knew she was wounded. He wasn’t about to let her get away and was able to catch up to the wounded pig as it faltered. He shot it twice to put an end to it’s misery and to remove all doubt that that it would not get up and run away.

     After much rejoicing and celebration we took numerous photos as he began to describe from his perspective what had happened. He adamantly detailed his initial shot at the lead pig hitting the pig square between it’s eyes. Mike was convinced he had hit the first pig and I believed him. We soon found an obvious blood trail a few feet from his downed sow. This blood was from a different pig. It led us through a clearing and across the dirt road that led to where we had parked the truck. After tracking a couple hundred yards, the trail led us to across a barbed wire fence that separated the ranch from another piece of property. The blood was getting harder and harder to follow and after searching for over an hour we decided to go back and get his pig. We drug it up to the road, walked back to the truck and loaded it up when we came back through. His initial hit through the pig’s hams yielded very little edible meat so we opted to remove just it’s back straps for future protein consumption. After packing the prime cuts on ice and cleaning up, we kicked back, relived the successful stalk, and planned our evening hunt.

     That evening Mike went back to the Far blind and I once again tried the Maddie bind. The sky still maintained it’s apparent intention to rain but for what ever reason, hadn’t. All of the blinds on the ranch were actually quite comfortable. They were all furnished with old office chairs with padded seats and back supports, and with four walls and a roof, we were prepared for the rain if it came. We began our texting asking each other if we had seen or heard anything. Other than birds and a few deer, the evening proved uneventful. We decided to call it a day and head back to the camp, have dinner, and go to bed.

I reckon the sky’s dark clouds had decided that had had enough and decided to unload their reserves. The rain began to fall as we headed back to camp and by the time we got back the wind had decided to join in.

     We had just got inside when the wind and rain made very clear their intentions for the night by making every attempt to create havoc with the tin roof.  The sound was so deafening we had to speak to one another as though we were in a shouting match. After eating another round of sandwiches, chips, and Little Debbie’s, we decided to call it a day and get some shuteye. The next day would be our last day to hunt and we both held on to hope that the last day was going to be the best.

Day 3

​The rain and wind continued off and on throughout the night but had not hindered our sleeping in the least. We woke once again to Mike’s phone alarm well before daybreak and began to get dressed for the final day of our annual South Texas Hog Hunt. ​As we drank our caffeine and got dressed, we once again deliberated on which blinds might provide the best success.   One can never predict exactly where the hogs will show up but we still pondered on a prediction. Mike decided to sit in the Maddie blind and I opted for the Tall blind.

​Mike dropped me off and as I walked on over to make my assent into the Tall blind I noticed that the rain was beginning to let up. It was still a little cool and my light jacket was just right to fend off the morning chill. I got settled in and put on my gloves and toboggan.  Twenty minutes or so had passed as I waited for daybreak. I began to make something out at the feeder. What ever I was looking at was big and there was at least three or four of them. They weren’t moving but their outlines were easy to see against the open cut grass out at the feeder. The dim morning light began to reveal their identity, and moments later I realized a bull, two cows and their calves had apparently weathered the night lying within yards of the corn feeder.

     The rain had let up but the dark skies were reluctant to allow the sun to announce it’s arrival. The clouds were still thick and numerous as the sun made it’s effort to pierce through and display it’s glory. The air was still as the winds had exhausted their efforts the previous night. I watched the bovine began to rise and make their way up the grassy roadbed towards me. I watched as three deer came out of the trees behind the feeder and begin feeding on the corn from the feeder. One was a small buck that was a bit hesitant compared to the two does that never looked up as they fed. After an hour or so the deer and cows had moved on and I texted Mike and asked if he had seen anything. He said he had watched a few deer but nothing else. We were both sleepy and decided to sit still until ten o’clock then head back to eat and catch a nap.

     After eating our sandwiches, chips, and Little Debbie’s we took about an hour nap then headed back out for another stalk. We decided to stalk up the creek bed at the Maddie blind where I had shot the red hog on the first morning. I took off towards the location I had first seen the pigs up past the headless hog and Mike had decided to veer off in the direction of the coyote he had shot.

     The sun was failing in it’s attempt to overcome the clouds and rain looked imminent. I was back in the same location I was at the first morning with the hog sign all around me. Light rain began to fall and the temptation to head back to camp and crawl back in bed was somewhat tempting.  I reminding myself that I stood no chance of shooting another hog lying in that warm, dry sleeping bag and knew we would be back in North Carolina counting the weeks down for next year’s trip before I knew it.

     I continued up the pig trail when I suddenly heard something running towards me. I looked off to my right and watched as a big boar ran right up in front of me and stop within twenty yards. Whether or not it knew what it was looking at, I don’t know, but I do know it wasn’t afraid as it stood still looking directly at me. Without contemplating what to do, I immediately raised my rifle and shot the boar. He dropped where he stood and my heart, once again, began to pound out of my chest. Adrenaline was surging and I was in disbelief at what had just happened. I had another hog down, and this one was close, almost too close. It too had incisors that curled out of it’s mouth that were as sharp as a knife, but really didn’t have the length I’d like to see for a head mount. I took a few pictures with my cell phone and met back up with Mike as we examined the beast.

     We took some more pictures with Mike’s camera and continued on our stalk. We split up again and I ended up walking the entire rear parameter fence line, mostly in a steady rain. I had jumped a few deer and did catch a glimpse of at least twenty or thirty hogs running about a hundred yards away on the other side of the barbed wire fence. I texted Mike and had him pick me up so I wouldn’t have to walk so far back to the truck in the rain. He hadn’t seen anything and we decided to head back to camp to eat and rest up for the final evening hunt.

     That afternoon Mike chose the Maddie blind and again I chose the tall blind. We actually got into the blinds early, as we knew this would be our last hunt until the following year. Even though I had all ready shot three hogs and Mike had shot one, we had only the back straps from his sow in the cooler and we really would like to have more meat to take home for later consumption. The sun had persevered and triumphantly scattered what remaining clouds were still on the horizon. The winds were still calm and the temperature had actually warmed to close to 70 degrees. As I sat in the Tall blind looking out over the northern edge of the ranch, I reflected on the hogs and coyotes I had killed and thanked God for my success. I watched diligently for movement or any sign of pigs out at the feeder.  This trip had been much more productive than the previous year and even though Mike had got his first pig this hunt, I was hoping that this last hunt of the trip would allow him a nice boar to claim.

     As I scanned the tree line my eyes caught movement of a coyote out about a hundred and fifty yards. I placed my rifle across the windowsill and placed the scavenger in the scope when two others appeared with it. As I watched them cautiously make their way through the mesquite brush, I deliberated on taking a shot. This was our last hunt of the trip and I really wanted to take home more bacon. I didn’t want to diminish any chances of any approaching pigs due to the shot so I decided not to shoot and allow the scavengers another night’s howling.  

     My phone vibrated and Eric asked how our day had been. I texted him back that I had just seen a few coyotes and relayed the day’s earlier events. I raised my head up from looking down at my phone and there at the feeder stood close to a dozen pigs.  

     I couldn’t believe it. Here it was in the middle of the afternoon, I hadn’t been in the blind fifteen minutes, and there stood pigs. There were all moving around with their heads down feeding on the corn. Since the feeder was so far away, I wasn’t too concerned with them detecting me. I was still excited but I was calm enough to quietly raise my rifle and rest it on the windowsill. I knew this was potentially a great opportunity to fill a cooler. Through my scope I could see a couple of big boars, three or four decent sized sows, and the rest were little ones. I took my time and found the sow I wanted. I waited for her to quit moving and bobbing. I squeezed off the 165 grain and the pigs scattered. I saw my pig run off. I couldn’t believe it.

     Here I had been dead on with every shot thus far and this perfect shot had apparently missed it’s mark. I was devastated.  It wasn’t five minutes before I noticed buzzards and a caracara begin to fly lower and lower and eventually land about 25 yards from the feeder behind a clump of mesquite tree brush. I knew these scavengers were quick to locate potential protein but in five minutes? I climbed down and began walking towards the feeder to have a look when the scavengers took to flight leaving behind what was going to be their evening meal. There lay my pig. She had managed to run a few yards and had dropped out of my sight behind the mesquite. Finding the sow was such a relieving sight, not only to fill a cooler, but because I was having difficulty accepting the fact that I had missed. The bullet placement was a few inches from my intended placement but was still plenty lethal enough to quickly drop the sow.

     Mike had heard the shot and I let him know what had happened. He conveyed his congratulations but was hoping he too might have a successful last evening hunt.  I decided to let her lay where she fell and get back up in the blind as it was still early. There was still plenty off time for both of us before dark to hopefully see more pigs.

     I climbed back up into the Tall blind and got settled in just in time, to my amazement, to see more pigs. The same group of pigs that had visited earlier was making their way across an open pasture on the other side of the tank immediately to my left. Two big boars were leading the way as the remaining sows and smaller ones followed closely behind. I estimated their distance at close to two hundred yards and knew if I were to get a shot off it would have to be done sooner than later as they would be out of sight before I knew it. I threw up my rifle and managed to find one of the boars in my sights. Seconds later they would be out of sight and I really needed to get the shot off. I kept on him as he trotted across the field and knew the moving target at this distance was going to be tough. I squeezed the trigger and immediately watched the hog drop. I couldn’t have asked for a better shot placement. This shot was by far the most fulfilling. The distance, the moving target, and the little time I had to shoot, all collaborated to make for the most challenging shot I had ever taken at any wild game.

     I sat there in disbelief at my afternoon’s success as my phone, once again, vibrated. I told Mike what had happened. He was contemplating coming over to the Tall blind as the Madddie blind had proved uneventful with no signs of life. The sun was beginning to tire as it’s light began to fade. Prime time would soon be upon us and we decided he would stay put and hope for the best.

     I now had two hogs on the ground and the evening hunt was still far from over. After shooting the sow and watching the others scatter, I really had felt I had seen all the pigs I was going to see for the day.  Once again I thanked God for the amazing success I had enjoyed and prayed that He might allow Mike to have another opportunity for a hog that evening.

     After a half hour or so of watching the cardinals and dove peck around at the scattered corn and the cattle meander through the mesquite and cactus, I watched as three doe and a small buck came out of the shadows and begin to feed. They weren’t there long when something got their undivided attention. They never went back to feeding and were soon gone back into the shadows as whatever had spooked them was apparently coming closer. The light was quickly fading but there was still plenty of light to make out another animal.

     Angling towards me coming up out of a small ravine, in utter disbelief, I watched a large brindled boar heading right for me. He was by himself and appeared to have no interest in the feeder or the corn. He was about seventy-five yards out but was closing the gap as he headed directly towards the Tall blind.  I again raised my rifle and found the boar in my cross hairs. He was by now a mere forty yards from me and as he moved closer I had to begin angling my rifle downwards as he approached. His deliberate pace slowed momentarily when I unleashed the bullet in his direction. For who knows why, God had apparently decided to bless me beyond my wildest dreams. I now had three hogs on the ground.

     By now the sun had surrendered it’s authority and had allowed the moon and stars to envelop the night’s sky. Mike texted after hearing another shot and said that I surely hadn’t shot another one. I proceeded to type that I had and that I was in disbelief probably more than him. I told him I would wait for him whenever he was ready to come and pick me up. I would have totally understood if he wanted to sit longer and allow him more time to hunt, but he said he was done and was going to head my way.

     We first loaded up the sow which lay close to the feeder, then drove all of fifty yards to take pictures of the brindled boar. We then headed up the roadbed towards the boar that lay on the other side of the tank. And as we turned off the grassy road into the pasture we spotted a coyote running through the open field. It was making it’s way towards the graveyard and as the truck’s headlights beamed into it’s eyes the coyote stopped. I stuck my rifle out the window and quickly found the canine in the cross hairs and pulled the trigger. It immediately dropped and I now had two coyotes to claim on the hunt. We drove about fifty yards over to it and took some pictures. It was definitely an adult male and was rather large compared to the other two we had previously shot.    

     We found the boar next to a barbed wire fence line. It weighed close to three hundred pounds and was more gray than black in color. It’s cutters were sharp but short and I decided to let this one lay as I had the other boars. We had a sow in the back and had our work cut out for us so we headed on back to camp where we would skin and quarter it to fit in the coolers.

     After we finished with the sow we cleaned up and decided to eat sandwiches, chips, and Little Debbie’s. We were going to leave by six the next morning and decided to get as much as we could packed and loaded that night for our trip home the next day. 

    The drive home we relived each day and knew we had been truly blessed with our success. Mike was thrilled with his coyote and fist pig kill and I am to this day still in disbelief in the five boars, one sow, and two coyotes God allowed me.

      Mike and I both love the outdoors as well as each other’s camaraderie. We make every attempt to not let the years slip by without making time to get out of the rat race, slow down and enjoy life. The years are proving that life is way too short to put off fulfilling our passions and I made a conscious decision years ago to live, and live life to the fullest.