I arrived at the WMA Thursday about noon. I had left earlier than planned when my travelling companions had to bow out for noble reasons in order to not have to drive the whole thing at once and maybe get some hunting in Thursday. Camp was small when I arrived, only three tents were there. Shortly RC and Darren showed up for lunch. I can’t remember when Paul came back to camp. Not too long after, Thom, Steve, and Nick piled in. I pitched a tent, ate some lunch, and then headed out hunting with RC and Darren for the afternoon. They dropped me off part way down a road so I could cover some of my own territory, but not until RC had started to tell me how I should go about hunting hogs. Turns out it’s not like hunting deer, this would be important soon. I never saw much besides some sign that first day, although I ended up stalking some birds making a hell of a racket in some brush.
Dinner that night was tenderloins from my snackpack I shot earlier this year along with some red beans and rice. Delicious. Time around the campfire was great, but it was getting colder than I had planned for in southern Georgia. I hunkered down in my little 3-season backpacking tent and made it through the 24 degree night without too much discomfort, but I was wishing I had brought an extra blanket.
Friday morning Darren had the fire going and I hung out around that and drank my cowboy coffee. RC came over and announced that he was heading to the Huddle House for breakfast. I invited myself along as that sounded better than my frozen bagels or Darren’s soup. (Darren ate soup for breakfast, lunch, and dinner on this trip.) The omelet hit the spot and on the way back RC pointed me to a couple of good areas. We got back around 10 and it was time to shoot and compare everyone’s bows. With a little encouragement, I decided to take my newly minted yew and black glass bow hunting that day over my old standby. Maybe it would be my good luck charm. It was time to get hunting, so I jumped in the hybrid hunting rig and headed down some access roads that my wife will never believe (or forgive me if she does start to believe.)
I covered a lot of ground in one area, coming across deer, squirrels, and even a coyote at 30 yds; but no pigs and not too much fresh sign. I took a few pics of my new bow down by the river. And I looked at some of the ice formations in the swamp.
I came back to the car about 2 to grab some lunch and decided to try another area that looked good on the topo map. Again, the car’s plastic skid plates made a lot of noise getting down the access road, but at least it was dry enough I felt I could get back up the hills. Down in this new area there was a lot of sign. I walked a firebreak for a bit, then sat down to listen. After about 30 minutes I thought I could hear ‘em. RC was right, they really do make some noise when up and about. I headed in that direction, my heart starting to speed up a little bit as there was huge amounts of very fresh sign and I was closing in on the noise. Then I saw one. And then another. And I could hear more. I got down low and started to work my way out of the palmettos and into the hardwoods. I made it behind a large oak, but slightly spooked a large sow with piglets. Staying still, she eventually calmed down and laid down about 20 yds away to feed the little screamers. At that time, another sow with piglets interrupted. They each managed to get their own separated and they both began to feed about 25 yards away. Up the hill I could now see 2 more pigs moving in my general direction. The wind was steady in my favor – I couldn’t believe my luck. The sows stopped nursing and got up to feed just out of my range. The little piglets didn’t move far, but practiced rooting around themselves.
I had been close to pigs for about 10 minutes and not quite sure what to do when one started coming towards me. It weaved through some trees and brush and was on a path to end up directly downwind of me. It was at the edge of my range at about 20-22 yds, and it was all black. I figured if it winded me, they would all be gone so this was my window. I raised my arm as I drew, hit anchor, and the darned thing turned just so its vitals were behind a little tree. Let down. It came away from the tree and I started to draw again as it turned towards me. I figured a head shot was a bad idea. Let ‘er down again. It turned to the right and stepped forward leaving a little gap in the brush to shoot through. My arrow was on its way. But I don’t remember picking a spot the third time. The arrow hit high, above and behind the shoulder. It turned as it went in, and the shaft was sticking up in the air at about 45 degrees as the thing turned and ran off. I watched it go, as did the other pigs. But they didn’t follow. After a few minutes, they settled down and went back to business.
I stood there in a bit of shock. I needed my heart to stop pounding so hard. I needed to figure out what to do. I needed to stop smashing my forehead into the tree for shooting high. The wind was still in my favor. There were pigs around me still. I started to move towards one that was feeding my way.
It was a large sow, light brown with black spots. I made it behind another large oak as it fed across in front of me, occasionally showing glimpses of the vitals as it went past trees and a few palmettos. It had now been about 40 minutes since I had gotten close to the pigs. I watched a large, black boar chase some pigs around farther up the hill. The wind was steady still. I’ve never heard of wind so steady for 40 minutes that pigs within 40 yards don’t eventually wind you. The sow worked closer and came out from behind a palmetto at 15 yards. Broadside. There was a 2 inch black spot behind the shoulder. It’s like it was put there for me to concentrate on. I leaned to my right as it paused to root. I need to watch my lower limb on the tree. Check. I need to pick a spot. Check. Raise my bow and draw. Check. Solid anchor. Check. Relax the muscles in my forearm and wrist – solid back tension. Check.
WHAAAAPPP!!!!!
Wait, what just happened? Oh yeah, the bottom limb. Whoops.
The arrow stuck in the dirt, nowhere near my pig. It ran off, but not far. The others were unspooked. The wind was still in my favor. The game wasn’t over, but the sun was setting. I was wondering what happened to my pig. I could hear pigs fighting and making a racket off in that direction. But there were pigs between there and me, and I still had thoughts I might get a shot. I watched more pigs, including my sow rounding up brood that had been about 30 yards away. They fed again. They bedded down for the cold night. They were harassed by another pig and moved away. I was hoping for a shot on this new pig which had moved into the 20 yard range. But darkness was coming fast. I didn’t think I could shoot that far, but if it hurried up and moved so that I could get within 10 yards, I felt I could see well enough to make that happen. I didn’t know the time. But reality got the better of me, the few minutes it took for me to get closer also made it so that even 12-13 yards was too far in the darkness. I was done. I watched and listened to the dark shape for a little while. It was still within 25 yds or so when I just stood up and walked away. It didn’t spook. The wind was still in my favor. I had been there with the pigs for about 1.5 hours, taken two shots, and if I had been more proactive might have fared better on opportunities.
But now it was time to head back to my car. My being an idiot wasn’t over yet. I had forgotten my flashlight back in my tent. Luckily, I was only a few hundred yards from the fire break, and that would lead me back to my car. I headed back to camp to tell my story and figured I’d be back early in the morning to look for the pig I had stuck.
(To be continued....)