Thank you Tracy...that was some kind of cool I tell ya
Day 2 and we were at it early. The guide's right hand man had us an awesome breakfast made. Too much food really, but a big 'ol boy like me needs his calories. With my drop off point approaching the quad stopped abruptly. Paul the guide said something I had wanted to hear for a long time: BIG BOAR! I slid off the quad and checked the wind. I had a marginal wind and slipped into the timber. The big 'ol boar just rooted and strutted like a stud horse in the timber. When I finally got glass on him he was at 100 yards and in no hurry. He had not seen us on the old logging road and after sending Paul on his way with a wide-eyed nod I started after the boar. I learned later that this was one of the biggest boars that Paul had ever seen in 25 years of hunting pigs
Although in no hurry these pigs walk FAST! Root, root, walk, walk. For me it was all I could do to not run at him or run away. The pace of step, step, glass was killing me, and I think I didn't push it fast enough. He simply walked away from me in the thick stuff. At one point he was only 60 yards or so, and I could see his cutters with my naked eye. I lost him to the thick river cane and managed to snap a last ditch picture.
I cut his track and remembered the wallow in the direction he was walking. I circled to the wind and sat the wallow awhile, walked a mile or so looking for pigs with no success and returned to the wallow for an hour or so until dark. It was like trying to make Boo Radley come out. Nothing. Darkness. But what a stinkin' day that was thinking there was a boar that big nearby. He had big feet anyway