Makin' Bacon at Hog Heaven

[JC]

We've had rain just about every chance I've had to go hunting and coupled with an extraordinary work load right now (thank God!), I've only been in the woods 4-5 times so far this season. Well, Ray knew the circumstances of my schedule and had pity on me. "Drop yer laptop and grab yer longbow brother!" Ray said in a call to me. The Lord worked everything out and I was able cut out for a long weekend.

Friday traffic in Atlanta was a scrambling circus...as usual. But it gave us a good chance to catch up, plan hunt strategies and make up new "redneck dictionary" words while listening to Jeff Foxworthy and James Gregory on my iPod. Once outside the poisonous claws of urban sprawl the trip was uneventful and we started the process of changing speed from overdrive work mode to snails' pace hunting crawl. Normally, it takes me some time to get into the right mindset but long drives like this have the unique quality of not only transporting you physically, but emotionally away from the epicenter of all things the antithesis of the peace found in the woods. As mile after mile of SC planted pine flatland rolled by outside the window, I found myself settling into a warm glow, anticipating the comfortable familiarity of camp at Hog Heaven and the gifts God has there to bestow upon those who fortunate enough to seek His peace there.

Arriving well after dark, it was too late to hunt so we passed the time before bed arranging gear, touching up broadheads, and discussing the plan of action. Tired from the long ride in the truck as well as the decompression that comes from leaving the city far behind, I drifted off to the serenade of crickets as visions of game danced through the swamp in my dreams.

[Talondale]

[robtattoo]

Awwww yeeeah  

[NoCams]

From the first paragraph I could tell this is goin to be a good un !    

nocams

[beachbowhunter]

JC - great to hear from you!

[JC]

"How do you like your eggs?" Ray asked over the sizzle of bacon in the frying pan. "However you're making them," was my obvious answer.

It was still dark but you could see the sky was heavily overcast. The breeze though warm, was thick against my face carrying the smell of rain. From the forecast we knew it would rain a bit, and after weeks and weeks of the same at home in N.GA, I wasn't surprised. In contrast to my area, Ray said it had been far too dry and the rain was sorely needed...it seems as the drought was lifting at home, this part of SC only fell deeper into it's clutches. For the sake of the land, I didn't curse it's inevitable coming. I made sure I had my Sitka gear jacket in the pack in case it became anything more than a sprinkle.

Saddle Up! The gear went on the down tailgate and we gently drove down the flat sand road towards the interior of the property, speaking in hushed tones even inside the cab of the truck...we were both fully in character.

We had decided to slip into a feeder that was frequented by a disproportionate number of big hogs early in the mornings. Ok, twist my arm Ray, I'll take point. Gliding along the meandering grass lane through the mixed pine/clear-cut had us expecting sounders around each bend. Anticipation is indeed the flavor on a hunter's plate: my eyes constantly locked/unlocked on any patch of color that wasn't green, my ears strained to pick up any porcine conversation, my nose was constantly alert for the barnyard breeze...man, this is THE STUFF right here! The feeder was bare but the ground beneath it was turned to the peculiar consistency of plastic that hog hunters love to see...not quite spackle, not quite pudding but somewhere in between.

With so many possibilities and the weather uncertain, we decided to split up. Ray was going to walk the middle road deeper into the swamp while I was going to skirt the edge, just near enough to see into the swamp and still have view of the in-growth clear cut along the old logging road.

[Arrowslinger]

Keep it coming JC.  Glad to see you got to do some hunting.  I know you have been really busy lately.

[leatherneck]

Glad to have you back JC. I thought you fell off the face of the earth! Keep it coming, I'm enjoying it for sure.        

Mike

[wtpops]

Originally posted by JC:
ground beneath it was turned to the peculiar consistency of plastic that hog hunters love to see...not quite spackle, not quite pudding but somewhere in between.

 

Boy does this line bring a smile to my face. When you see this you hear better you see better and you smell better, your hunter mode jumps by ten fold.

Keep it comming, man im ready to help drag a hog.

[Danny Rowan]

Come on JC, Don't drag this out,LOL                      

[JC]

Not long into my walk, I heard movement up into the clear-cut area.

 

Apparently, I was a bit excited and pushed beyond a "stalk"...two deer catapulted out of the brush, tails waving dramatically as they blew the far too familiar tune of "See-ya-stupid-human". Slow down, this ain't concrete you're walking on...

I made my way around to another feeder I knew about. Poised on the edge of the swamp I had seen quite a bit of activity there in past trips. Again my mouth involuntarily watered expecting to see animals at any moment as I crept closer to the feeder...only able to see the top of it over the high grass that was between it and I. Inching closer, I finally viewed empty ground beneath the feeder. Empty, but not barren...the "plastic" was completely covered in every conceivable footprint of the local fauna.

 

[JC]

I worked my way out to the main road and just enjoyed a gentle stroll; just far enough near the edge of the woodline to provide quick cover but still able to see down the road and at the numerous crossroads I traveled past. As is frequently expected at Hog Heaven, it wasn't 5 minutes and I saw a black form appear from the right side of the road. Immediately stopping, dropping to a crouch, and sidestepping against a tree in one motion, the 150 or so pound hog turned directly towards me at 50 yards, it's wiry tail lashing across each ham from around it's behind...with that purposeful bouncy trot that only pigs have when they are headed towards their next meal (which seems to be literally all the time).

10 quick steps later and he turned 90 degrees down a crossroad, not spooked, just off about whatever business he had originally set upon. I crossed to the left of the road and did my best low squat quick step to the intersection, peeking through the brush as best as I could looking for the telltale black shape. I could see him quickly leaving me; his methodically churning feet invisible in the knee high grass he looked more like a motorboat on a sea of green as the grass parted before him and closed in behind him as he passed. I picked up my pace along the soft ground trying to gain back some of the distance.

But in 20 yards his lead became 60...and in 30, became 70. There's just no catching a hog in a straight line....he eventually turned into the thick pines at tunnel/trail.  Yeah man...this is THE STUFF!

[JEFF B]

hey jc this aint fair ya just ran out on us ya cant leave us hanging there ya do know this has taken about 2 days to reach me here in NZ    nice story bro keep it comming

[oneshot-onekill]

jc....keep it coming I am headed to Ray's place in 14 days 5 hrs and 33 sec's or there abouts but who's keeping track...lol....this is only helping to get the juices flowing...

[JC]

I turned around and headed back towards the main road, a broad smile on my face brought about from the close proximity to a good sized pig. Something in the back of my mind reminded me not to make the mistake I had who knows how many times, I slowed down  as I neared the intersection to make sure I didn't bumble right into hogs in my path.

Sure enough, I heard rustling in the deep ditch that paralleled the side road I was on. I got to my knees and crawled towards the intersection in an attempt to get a good view of what was making the noise in amongst the blackberry brambles at the bottom of the mini-ravine. Crawl an inch, scan all around making sure I'm not ignoring "one in the hand for one in the bush", strain my eyes in the ditch trying to pick out a shootable form. More rustling...another inch...my string tightens slightly in my fingers, not starting to draw but enough pressure to remind me it's there. More rustling...I still can't see anything but dormant blackberry bramble between me and the sound...some fall leaves in the bottom of the ditch through the tiny holes of the briars. Man...if this is an armadillo I'm going to feel like such a.....CRASH!

A 75-100# hog the color of dead leaves explodes out of the bottom of the ditch and rockets up the far side disappearing into the pine thicket with nary a rustle between the boughs. I'm left with my heart in my throat and a silly grin on my face...I can't help but chuckle at myself as I finally realize the wind has picked up...and changed direction blowing across the nape of my neck and across the ditch...

[Charlie Lamb]

[Over&Under]

Lots of action so far!!!  Somethin tells me it wil get even better!!

 

[Terry Green]

[Ted Fry]

ANNNDDDD?????????

[JC]

I head back to intersection, looking both ways lest I be trampled by an inattentive sounder, turning left continuing on my original path. The road is crossed multiple times by game trails...paths going from the clear cut area, the veil of the swamp and the planted pines. Nope, there's no pigs in Hog Heaven...

 

 

More to come....