To set the scene, here's a "before" pic:
And here's an "after" pic:
The "who" was Ray Hammond:
The "where" was thousands of acres in South Carolina along the Savannah River. Hog Nirvana. The Shangri-la of Pork.
The land above the river was a mixture of pine plantations, open fields, and mixed hardwoods. It hadn't rained much lately but the hogs had plenty of impressive wallows:
The low country along the river was other-worldly. Dark, cool, and quiet, it felt like a green cathedral with the giant trees buttressing an unbroken canopy.
We were the latest in a long string of hunters to walk these woods. Some of the other hunters left their tools behind, some unfinished, some broken.
I picked up a worn out dart point, probably a Kirk Stemmed point, and Ray said it was a good omen. He was probably right, but did it mean we'd have good hog hunting or should I just look for arrowheads? Omens can be tricky things, especially to a guy who gets confused by fortune cookies.