I ain’t gonna drag this story out like I did with my antelope and last years deer, so here’s the meat and taters.
This boar came down the trail I was hunting on that leads to my pond, about 10 min before dark. He stopped and was testing the wind when I hit anchor and cut the arrow loose. The shot looked good, although I hadn’t gotten a pass thru despite the short shot of only 5 yards.
Gave him about 15 min then took up the trail. The trail started out sparse, then grew heavy with chunks of lung tissue even being found along the trail. I’ll take that any day with big wooly pigs.
After about 80 yards I lost the trail. The ground was scuffed up and it looked like he had rolled around and probably got the wound fouled up with dirt. But he had followed a dry streambed the whole way so I figured he would continue. About 15 yards further I found my intact arrow, and in another 15 yards, I kicked the boar up. He wasn’t dead, in fact, he was ready to brawl. He trotted off in my headlight without giving me another shot, but he was struggling as he limped away into the thick underbrush. I decided to back out and let him have his peace and come back in the morning.
The next morning I lured my dad out of his house with a couple of Braums sausage biskits and some gas station coffee. He hasn’t been out of the house much since mom passed away back in early August. So I figured he was due for a good hike.
We walked in to where I had last seen the pig disappear into the thick brush above the creekbed. We both hit the creek and turned to the south, looking for anything that resembled a brown hog on brown rocks and brown leaves. After about 20 yards, I just had a feeling he hadn’t went to the south so I turned around and began following the stream bed to then north. After about 30 yards I got down in the creek and scanned the creekbed with my binos. Almost immediately I saw a hoof, then a leg, then a hairy ear.
Hollered at dad to follow the creekbed back to the north. As I waited on him I rolled the pig over on his belly to prepare for pics and butchering. Normally I would have dragged the pig to the truck or even to the county road my land borders, but there was no way I was getting this pig out of this creekbed with a 76 year old man, and brush so thick it would take a fire to thin out.
After some pics and story telling with my dad, I pulled out the Randall #11, touched up the blade, skinned out the back straps, shoulders, the tenderloins and both hams, deboned. Dad wanted to carry the pack, so I put the shoulder, straps, and one ham in the pack and helped him get it shouldered. He said he hadn’t carried a pack with that much weight in it since Vietnam. For him, the pack was heavy. But he didn’t complain about it, despite the temp and humidity steadily climbing into the 80s. I carried the remaining meat and the head out for a euro mount.
This is my first hog off my own property, and probably my biggest with a bow. I missed this hog on 2 separate occasions last year. Once over and once under.
Shot with a 48# Great Plains B model recurve. With 560gr arrows tipped with Ace 160gr heads.
Thanks for reading. Let’s see if I can remember how to post pics!