Rick covered most of the highlights leading up to our eventful Sunday evening. Irv was a great guy to work with and did his best to get us on hogs, but we just weren't seeing them mornings or afternoons. Our best guess is that the very wet weather and saturated soil had them rooting at will and less tied to hitting the feeders right when they went off. Any time we returned to a feeder the next morning or later the corn that had been there was gone and hog tracks were everywhere. They must have been hitting them through the nights. Irv encouraged us to stay on stand after dark, but the frequent rains that were working their way through the area had us ready to leave by mid-morning and dusk.
Well, Sunday afternoon came and this would be our last sit of the trip. As the sun began to set, and not yet seeing any hogs, I began to think things just weren't going to work out this trip...that's hunting!
At 5:37pm Rick texts me: "Shot a pig in the pines". Alright! Suddenly things are looking up!
At 5:41pm I text Rick: "Ok. I got my fingers crossed over here that I see something."
Darkness is settling in. Irv is on his way to help track and drag Rick's hog, and I'm torn between getting over to Rick and helping or waiting on stand just a little bit longer, as it's now or never for poking a pig.
At 6:03pm I text Rick: "I'd like to sit here just a bit more, but do text me if you need me."
With that I put my headlamp on and attempt to position it on my head so that it will illuminate the feeder area with minimal head movement through a shot. No sooner had I donned the light and turned it on then I see movement at my 11 o'clock, 25 yards out. A pig is coming in to the feeder!
Well, WAS coming in to the feeder...when I turned my head to the movement I saw, my headlamp turned too. I made a split second decision to try and turn off the light and fiddling with it made the light dance a bit. Piggie didn't like that. He turned slightly, and was either going to bypass the feeder or come in from downwind or whatever.
So now, in a millisecond, I have a number of thoughts running through my mind: last sit of hunt, leaving tomorrow morning, first pig seen, last pig seen, only shot opportunity, I can make this shot, I don't like this shot, pig tastes so good, and other mind-racing thoughts!
Seriously, all of this was in a nanosecond, I knew it was now or never. The pig was proceeding from my 11 o'clock/25 yards, and was moving to 9 o'clock/still 25 yards. Once he got past my 9 o'clock I would lose any shot opportunity, due to the orientation of the ladder stand and some branches. I was already standing up, I drew my River Raisin Siren, kept a bead on his vitals and let her fly. This picture is taken from the stand I was sitting for the shot. The pig was crossing the standing water you see and moving right to left.
At 6:13pm I text Rick: "Had a shot. 25ish yard. Gonna check arrow for blood." I could see my arrow's reflective wrap sticking out of the water where the pig had been standing/trotting a minute ago.
Remember where I said I kept a bead on his vitals? Therein lies my mistake. I didn't account for his right to left trot out at 25 yards. I hit him back too far. While I had what we thought was good blood and a complete pass through, after replaying the shot in my mind over and over I'm convinced I just didn't lead the shot and hit back.
I got down from the stand and checked the arrow.
Good blood! While I had what I thought was good blood, in the back of my mind I just wasn't sure and wanted to give the pig every opportunity to chill, lay down and bleed out. I knew just where he ran and left my arrow to go help track Rick's pig.
After we found Rick's pig and got it dragged to Irv's truck we went looking for mine. I showed Rick, Irv and Priscilla how the shot went down and direction the pig went. We found the blood trail almost immediately. And while we had consistent blood every 8-10 feet, the trail led into a lot of standing water.
We were hunting in an old orange grove, where the orange tree rows were elevated and the ground between the rows was depressed. Well, with the frequent storms the low ground had been turned into a veritable swamp. We would have intermittent blood for 20 feet, then wade through 10 feet of water and have to find the trail again. The pig was getting a bath every 20 feet. The blood was not increasing and finally after over an hour of tracking we had to concede that we had lost the trail and would be hard pressed to continue to track this pig.
Rick and I left the next morning, still buzzing from the last night's action! No doubt we will both be back to hunt hogs with Irv!