So enough of that area, no steamin hog sign so we hiked back to the truck to change plans. Head a little lower and find denser cover.
Heading over to the clear cut areas, Terry hollers and before I can get the truck stopped, bails out a runnin. Hog tracks at the edge of the road so fresh the sand grains are still falling off the edge. Park the truck and we split, Terry on one set and me on another, out into the cut down. An hour or so later, I've still hunted and tracked the hogs to an open spot where it looks like they've had a party and find a pile so fresh it stinks. Cutting across a loggin road, I hot foot it back to where Terry and I split to tell him the good news and see if we could track the group down together. Along the way, I hear the strangest bird.... the elusive Tarzanwarbler, and eventually follow the sound only to find Terry et it before I got there. After giving him the good news, he just smiles and says, "You gotta see this to believe it!". We make our way up this weird, obviously man-made berm that looks like the remnants of an old dam. Peeking over the side
we see what should be a South GA swamp, not a North GA foothill. Everywhere, I mean everywhere there were wallows, rootings, mud rubbed on trees 3 feet or more.
Hair standing on end, we spend the next 3 hours still hunting through what looked like hog paradise.
Unbelievable to find what we found where we found it, kept having to remind ourselves we weren't on the GA/FL line somewhere. Again, everything but a dead hog. BUT, it was a glorious day to be in the woods, great friendship, and we found a place we are sure will eventually produce hogs for us.
A long hunt back to the truck found us heading home under a glorious full moon.
A fitting end to the perfect day afield. Ya'll get out there and hunt something....and drag a buddy along with ya!
Topic: Everything but a dead hog.... (Read 5136 times)
