And I'm tired and happy to be warm again. It was quite an adventure. Had an amazing time. Will type out a full story of the week's events very soon. For now need to relax
Stay tuned.
UPDATED x 1 2/8/14
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Excuse the delay. The week of hunting and trad archery filled my tank in regards to archery related things, tired me out, and upon arriving home I chose to refocus on family and work for a bit, collect my thoughts, and THAW out LOL.
We came. We hunted. We froze. But man what a blast anyway.
First of all, big shout out and thanks to Rob ('Robtattoo'), Chris, Shane, Steve, Josh for the opportunity to win a spot on the hog hunt and inviting me on the trip. Big thanks to Jacob and Shaun of Mule Creek Outfitters for their help and hospitality. Also a shout to Mojo and Graetchen, two of the friendliest hunting dogs you might ever meet.
Well, when we were getting ready to head to Texas we were expecting 60's-70's daytime temps and 'maybe' 40ish at night. Well, the icestorm Shane and I encountered on I-10 the night we left for Texas made us suspicious about whether the forecast we had in the weeks prior was going to hold up. After Shane picked me up in Tallahassee, Friday the 24th, we had to get off of I-10 somewhere past the Alabama border and head north to try and make to I-20 using backroads. I-20 headed straight to Dallas where we would meet up with the rest of the crew the next day.
We drove all night and made it to Dallas about 3:30pm the next day, Saturday. Picked up our hunting licenses and lunch in Dallas and then convoyed out to Crane, TX at the far west end of the state, south of Odessa.
Temps when we first got to Texas were pretty mild for January. Not at all like what we encountered during the ice storm on I-10 the previous Day.
Well, we were hopeful but sure enough, the temp started to drop that first evening.
We arrived at the ranch about midnight and got settled into the bunkhouse. This place is in the middle of nowhere, mesquite scrub and oil pumps for miles. 7 of us were about to hunt an area of over 100 square miles...insane! We were all too excited to go to sleep, so gear checks commenced, and more than one broadhead got sharpened to say the least, combined with some good merry making, liquor sampling, and general tall tales and BSing.
Next morning, unheated bunkhouse revealed what we were in for. A hearty breakfast, and the pre-gaming continued. We went over our potential hunting spots with Jacob and Shaun and discussed critters. Optimism was initially quite high, as the party who hunted the week prior to us took 14 pigs home, but stuck a total of 20, 6 not recovered. This made us quiver (LOL) with anticipation. Apparently the place was flat out ripe for porcine ethnic cleansing and we were ready to do the job.
We headed out to scout our sites and liked what we found, lots and lots of fresh hog sign. We were hoping for some super duper ambushes and Operation Desert Hog was about to get fully underway.
Back to the bunkhouse for lunch and then preparations for battle. By the time we all got dressed we flat out looked like either the SF Unit that rescued Hamid Karzai (except with bows, not M4's) or the American Taliban. Temps were dipping into the 40s as the sun went down and while we knew hogs and critters were out there for the taking, the temps and the clothing we brought were making some of us (esp ME) worried that our endurance would be tested.
If you haven't already figured it out, the majority of our hunting was going to be done at dusk and past dark...all trad bows were outfitted with red and green lights for close range illumination.
Night 1-
nearly all of us encountered a hog or two or more.
Everyone's pigs were coming in with the last light or just after. Rob's stand got overrun, he managed to get off a few shots, but pigs staying moving because of the cold and acting wily meant he had a handful of misses, with no meat made as of yet.
Chris and his son encountered a monster boar that proved to be too clever and never got quite in range of their blind.
Me, on the first night I heard a lot of stuff going on in the brush, but nothing sighted.
It was cold, but not yet the arctic chill yet to come.
Day 2/Night 2-
Everyone shared their results from the night before, maps were consulted, a couple of us moved sites, some of us were happy with where we were. The hogs on the ranch are 100% feral stock, but Mule Creek does some corning and so there is always proof of hog activity when the tracks are fresh and the corn is gone the next day. Scouting my site again this proved to be true and I decided to sit again that night at the same location.
Temps on day 2 were dropping. And dropping. We all realized that any hunting/spot and stalk during the day was pretty much gonna be pointless. The Javelinas would just go underground to get out of the icy winds starting to pick up, so would the rabbits, and the hogs would just find wallowed out creek bottoms to pile up in and conserve energy.
The night time is the right time
I got out to my spot at around 4:30pm to get set up and start the waiting game. The ground blind I built out of mesquite wasn't going to do as the winds had shifted so I moved to a dug out pit blind on the opposite side of my site, nicely concealed with just my head and shoulders poking above the ground with plenty of mesquite surrounding me and a nice window trimmed out facing toward the food and water source in front of me.
I waited and waited. And there he was...
About 5:30pm I look over to my right and my heart skipped a few beats. Sun was going down and there stands not 20 yds away a nice 100+ pound salt and pepper boar next to a bush to the right of my stand. It is simply amazing how sneaky big male hogs can be. He literally appeared out of thin air.
I have encountered pigs in Florida in the past couple years trying to make my first trad kill, but hadn't seen any this large up to this point. He looked like a critter you don't want to piss off LOL. I say 100+ pounds, I'm not really sure how big he was, but I do know he had to be pushing at least twice the size of my 74# Labrador back home.
Heart pounding, could this be it??
Well he proved to be a clever sonofa#$%^ I'll say. He very cautiously circled around me until he caught my scent and then trotted off.
LAME! But exhilarating!
Well several more hours went by and the cold was starting to really concern/bother me. I was wearing what I brought, lined pants, boots and wool socks, several upper layers, and lightweight gloves and it was doing just about jack squat to keep me comfortable. I had enough experience with cold at this point to know that temps were starting to dip below freezing and I wondered how much longer I could hold out.
We all were wondering and texted back and forth with our frustrations regarding the weather change from the optimistic forecast we had from the prior week.
8pm hit and I was just starting to think about throwing in the towel...when I heard grunting...
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UPDATE #2 2/9/14, continued...
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Night 2/ ca. 8pm
By this time I could hardly feel my hands, they basically felt like razor blades were cutting them in a thousand ways and places. I was actually starting to shiver pretty bad with teeth trying to chatter. Handwarmers in my pockets were doing jack squat to keep me warm. Chris had texted me to see if I was ready to throw in the towel...well now with the grunting in the distance I said "just a little more time."
Game on.
I held still and listened. Indeed something big was grunting and trying to get under the wire fence to the right of my blind. It was a big hog, I could tell by the commotion. It was actually kind of hilarious to listen to, you could tell he was having some difficulty squeezing his bulk under the fence. At this point I wasn't sure whether this was the same hog from sundown, or a 'new fella' come to make my acquaintance...
There was no moon at this point so the landscape of this mesquite desert was illuminated by starlight.
The best part so far of these nights was the fact that the constellation Orion was shining directly above my site. Pretty neat.
Well big boy made it through the fence and suddenly I saw a very large black shadow approaching the feeder. Like the previous bruiser he didn't head straight for the corn, but kinda circled the position and came around to my left, stopping and sniffing, stopping and scanning...
Well this time he must not have smelled anything...the wind had died to just a slight swirl of a breeze..almost a dead calm.
He actually came within 10 yds of my blind on the left, but due to the mesquite wall I built on the sides, and a bush between us there was no shot. I was counting on him going to the corn.
He did. By now my heart was pounding to the point where I was worried the pig might hear. LOL.
I fought my shivers and painful hands with every ounce of my will. Truly. Until you have cooled yourself to the point that I did sitting for over 3 hours going from 45 degrees down to 19 degrees maintining as close to absolute stillness/quiet as I had, you don't know what it was like LOL. I'm sure many of you have done it. Not having the right clothing SUCKED.
I watched the shadow approach the feeder. FOCUS FOCUS! I started visualizing that I was actually in a burning desert and that I was warm and comfortable at this point. I knew that drawing the bow slowly and with control was going to be a chore. I flexed my lats and the muscles felt good...it was the shaking that was going to be a challenge.
Time slowed down a bit, and I mused that this boar almost looked like a bear in the dark, he was pretty good size. No bear by any means, but the cold was making me a little loopy LOL.
He stopped and munched right under the feeder. Full broadside shot. Approximately 20 yds. It was time.
With every ounce of muscle control I had I slowly rose from my stool upwards to where I could shoot from a comfortable position. Slow motion.
The challenge was going to be raising the bow skyward and turning on my green light and then moving the bow downward slow enough not to scare the big fella with the glow.
Bow in the air. Light on, trying not to click the on switch too loudly.
PAIN, more PAIN in my hands.
And there HE was...
It was a beautiful sight. Here I was 1400 miles from home getting ready to hopefully make my first large game trad kill...
Truth be told, my light seemed a little dim. I gritted my teeth and focused as hard as I could on the spot just above this grizzly boar's elbow, as best I could in the pale green glow of the light...time to do it...
Drew back, expanded my back...FOCUS.
RELEASE.
What happened next happened like a lightning flash.
SWISH...CRAAAAAACK.
DAMNIT!! I knew as soon as I heard the sound I had shot high and NAILED him square in the shoulder.
Let's just say that hog moved so fast I think he cleared 50 feet in one motion...
By this point with the heart rate UP and the cold flat trying to kill me my head was swimming a little.
I knew I had a hit but was it GOOD??
I stayed still and silent and flicked my light off again.
I listened...
Big boy had stopped about 20 yds off to my left in the bushes...I heard him huff and puff and huff and puff...he did not sound happy...heard a few grunts...and then footsteps fading away...
It sounded promising. The two huff puffs he made sounded like when a deer blows when it busts you..but real hard like someone exhaling before trying to cough. I wasn't happy about a shoulder hit, but I figured my 56@28 Centaur Triple with a 9gpp arrow had to have done some damage...
The sounds I was hearing started to fade away. Fingers crossed, I hoped that the high hit would at least cause enough bleed to bring him down in a reasonable distance for tracking with the dogs...
My excitement was indescribable. I had made my first hit on a large critter. At 19 degrees. IN THE DARK. Not my ideal conditions by any means. I keep thinking had it been 45-50 degrees and with some sun still in the sky it would have been a different hit. I had practiced and practiced and my shooting felt great back in FL with my confidence running 100%. The numbness of my hands and fighting the shakes did stack the deck against me 'a bit.'
I texted Chris. He said 'on the way, gun and dogs coming along.' I knew that it was gonna go one of three ways. We either were gonna find a dead hog some distance away, or we were gonna find a PISSED off hog in the thick mesquite, or my least favorite option..nothing.
After about 15-20 minutes I climbed out of my pit and headed along the arrow flight path toward the feeder.
Got to the feeder. DAMN! No blood. No arrow. This wasn't looking good. I kept walking past the point of impact with my bright headlight and searched 20 yds past the feeder for my arrow. Nothing. Then I did a little walk in the direction the hog traveled away. Still no blood. Dangnabit. Damn shoulder hit who'd a thunk it.
Chris and Jacob from Mule Creek arrived, lights, pistol, and Mojo the Jagdterrier in tow. Mojo was set to work trying to find a trail and Chris and I continued to search for my arrow around the feeder, past the feeder, and on the path that Mojo was following. Mojo did find a scent trail and it headed right in the direction I heard the big boy go. No blood in sight at all. We discussed my shot, I described how it went right for the pig like a laser, saw it hit in the dim light and heard the loud crack as it struck bone. We all agreed it wasn't promising. These big boars are built like tanks and Jacob and Chris described how they had found old broadheads, bullets, and arrow remnants in the skeletal structure of multiple butchered boars.
The trail went cold after about 150 yds. RATS!!!
We decided to come back again at daylight to keep up the search. Being it was 19 degrees meat spoilage was not a concern. And it was cold enough that 'yotes might not be a worry either.
Somewhere out there was a large boar with my arrow in its shoulder.
Not my finest moment, but exciting and somewhat satisfying at the same time. What an adventure and I was only two nights in!!
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FINAL UPDATE 2/12/14
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Ok, time to finish out this story. Lots of distractions.
So, once Mojo lost the scent trail about 200 yds from the stand we all agreed it was a futile effort in the dark. Even with three of us carrying flashlights, with no hot blood or scent trail we weren't going to find this bruiser, and with the crazy way things go in the pitch dark he very well could have been off to our right or left laying in a mesquite thicket dying, and the dog may not have sensed it. Part of the problem was there were so many hogs in the area there was loads of fresh or semi-fresh sign so once the trail went cold there were way too many distractions for Mojo, or at least that's what I theorize, I'm no dog expert. The lack of a blood trail was a big issue.
We didn't want to give up, I was 100% confident I had stuck in an arrow in that big b@$tard but the 19 degree weather and darkness sent us packing. We returned to the bunkhouse and made plans to give it one more shot at daybreak, with the light on our side. Maybe we'd get lucky and with daylight and Mojo helping we'd circle the area and find a big dead hog that took all night to die LOL.
Day 3-5/ conclusion:
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Returning the previous evening was an exercise in REWARMING. I had a chill on me the whole rest of the night, and consumed hot food and alcohol in abudance to regain some sensation of warmth in my body. I'm a big Nordic guy and actually enjoy cold...when I'm not sitting stock still for 4 hours in it in the WRONG clothes, LOL.
If I remember correctly I was the only one who got a shot off the night before. Being day 3, we were all anxious to start arrowing some game and bringing home the bacon. The weather wasn't improving, and it was actually getting even windier, so frustrations were increasing. A few of us changed locations to try something new. I resolved to keep sitting my particular stand, because the big hogs seemed to be coming in like clockwork, might as well right?
Chris, Josh, Shaun and Graetchen the dachshund headed back to my stand that morning for some more searching. We searched around the site for my arrow, following its trajectory far past the spot the hog was standing, just to be absolutely sure my mind wasn't playing tricks and it was a miss. It was not. That arrow was buried deep in that hog's shoulder. Graetchen did her best to help, she actually found the same trail that Mojo followed when it was fresh, going in the direction the hog had headed after being hit. We all fanned out from the trail hoping to spot a dead boar in the thickets, but alas, it was not to be :/
Oh well. We still had 3 days left as of that day, so still time to hope things take a turn for the better.
The cold did not relent. We spent the day scouting the stands and corning various roads. We drove around hoping some Javelina would show themselves in the hills, but the wind and cold was just too much.
Most of the day was then spent resting, sharpening knives and heads, and telling all sorts of tales.
That late afternoon we all bundled up in our many many layers of gear and headed out to our respective spots.
I got to my stand and set up in the pit blind again. I was hopeful that that first good sized grizzly boar would show up at sundown again.
He did. But man what a clever sucker. He did his usual circle/scent search pattern around the stand/ feeder site..at one point he was almost in range/unobstructed by brush and I was getting excited..but he ended up smelling something he didn't like and trotted off again...most likely the swirling air currents sent my scent his way again. RATS! Oh well...several more hours to kill and see what darkness brings.
Later on I heard and had some activity near the stand, but nothing came of it.
Rob ended up arrowing a nice pig that night and recovering it. So 1 pig for the group so far after 3 days. The other hunting party that shared the bunkhouse with our group ended up getting a pig and coyote. Kinda slim pickins compared to the prior week at the ranch..BUT it was also about 25 degrees warmer overall.
I called for pickup around 8pm. Had enough of the cold and numb hands just aren't any fun.
We all made merry back at the bunkhouse, were all thrilled about Rob's pig and had some super camp chow. I was bushwhacked and slept like the dead that night. It had been an exciting three days.
Day 4
..was a nice bit warmer, maybe 10-15 degrees, highs approaching mid fifties now, with forecast for the evening saying no more teens and 20's but now mid to high thirties hovering near 40. Much more manageable.
I headed to my stand around 4:30. Big grizzly boy had appeared at the site at 530 and 600 pm the past two nights so I had a feeling he'd be back again. I resolved to slay this beast.
Sure enough 615 pm rolled around and I had been sitting for a while, meditating...yup there he was about 100 yds from the stand heading toward me through the sparse mesquite to the left of the stand. I observed him cautiously approaching. He stoppped every 25 feet or so to sniff the air. This time he walked past my blind just out of range and checked the right flank of the site, then turned around and headed back toward the left past the feeder. Very cautious. Very skittish. He made like he was gonna circle over on my left side and maybe behind me, like he had been doing to wind me, BUT this time he seemed satisfied with the sights and smells and headed to the feeder. OMG, sooo close now. GAME TIME!! I resolved to have patience and wait until a nice shot presented itself and wait until the last second to move or risk blowing my cover. I used the mesquite trees when it blocked his line of sight to get myself and my bow in position for a shot. Now the excitement was rushing back...my first daylight shot opportunity! The sun was setting fast, but it was still dusk with more than enough light to shoot without my flashlight. I zeroed in on him like a hawk and tried not to hold my breath. He was munching on the opposite side of a tree and the feeder but seemed to be moving into position. Still skittish and he'd stop munching every few seconds and listen and look around and sniff. Very clever guy. I had an arrow nocked by this point and new it that a shot was imminent. Finally he had moved into position. Another perfect 20-22 yd broadside opportunity. I slowly raised by bow arm and drew back...
BUSTED!!! I don't know what made him look up exactly at the moment that I was at half draw but he zeroed in on me like a laser beam and that was the end of it...he turned tail and jogged out of there post haste and I was left with a half drawn arrow and pissed LOL.
I believe in focusing on my shots and I guess he just was too fast for me. I could have just went for it and hoped not to miss but I think my arrow wouldn't have hit anything but air.
Very disappointing to be busted on the draw, but it was a lesson learned about pigs.
I stayed a few more hours and again, heard some activity nearby but no other pigs came in that I know of.
Lots of kangaroo mouse activity in the pit with me though LOL. Little buggers are fearless and pretty entertaining to watch. I almost scooped one up in my hand, but he hopped out of reach before I could get him.
It kept me entertained until my ride arrived.
Back at the bunkhouse I told my story of the half-draw bust on a perfect broadside shot and the guys felt my pain. Some suggested that I shouldn't have drawn so slow/ hesitated. Point taken, but I have always resolved not to snap shoot, but perhaps that was a snap shoot moment?? I will have to work on making tactical decisions in similar future situtations.
Rob and Josh's stand had some awesome pig activity that night, and I think there were some more missed shots, but no meat made. With the cold the pigs just stayed way too on the move and it proved difficult to get any to really loaf around the feeders and half-frozen water sources. Chris and his son had excitement but no results on a cat and mouse game played with a super large wise old boar that had been coming to their stand at sundown for a couple days. Similar to my experience- he was just too spooky to have anything come of it.
Another night of great warm chow and some warming distilled and brewed products and stories and sleep again called me to my bunk early.
Day 5-
last day to hunt and we all woke up resolving that while the trip was an adventure we had better get on some pigs soon or else.
We did some planning and it was decided that all but one of our group including myself would all hunt Rob's stand that last night in several different blinds scattered around the general location: at the feeder itself, and strategically placed along the crossroads near it...we were in full assault mode. This cold weather crap had rubbed us the wrong way long enough.
Rob's stand was getting consistent large groups of pigs in the area and at the stand so it was time for teamwork and team effort to do some slaying. Or hope to anyway.
We headed out to the site and corned the road and dug another pit blind on one of the cross roads near the main stand. We now had two pit blinds, the main ground blind at the stand, and anywhere else someone might want to sit staked out and we were ready to rock and roll. Temps were much warmer this last day and that evening with a projected low of a BALMY 50 degrees. Tropical baby!! Much improved over 19 degrees.
Again, by the time we headed out that evening we all looked like the 'American Taliban' or an Army SF unit deployed to Afghanistan. Many laughs ensued. Let the Pig Jihad commence.
We all got out there and set up in our respective positions. Of course the wind decided to do some schizo crap and kept changing direction on us. Shane in particular had to leave his pit blind several times to cross to the other side of the road because of the wind shifts. Dark finally came and we were all hopeful and excited. Sure enough about 30 minutes after dark the first pig activity was heard nearby. I heard some pigs grunting only a few dozen yards behind my pit blind. Over by the main stand we got reports of a group of pigs approaching on the fringe. Shane had some come in to his left headed down the road. This was getting promising!
The wind or whatever it was that night just didn't cooperate. I had pigs come within 15 yds of my pit, but behind me in the thicket, so no joy. The pigs shane spotted came down the road, and apparently he said they were monsters, but something behind them scared them off and they headed away and didn't get any closer.
It didn't seem like a scent problem for either Shane or I in our respective locations. We can only guess that maybe they caught wind of Rob or Josh near the main blind and high tailed it away.
The wind was a real pain in the ass. Very swirl and inconsistent.
Oh well. Having the critters so close and some of them big (Shane said he saw several large enough that it gave him pause to consider shooting one at only 10 yds!) was very exciting.
In the end, that's why they call it hunting and not killing.
Over the debrief that night and dinner we all griped about the crappy weather that week, but also had a share of laughs about our close calls that week and the high adventure that we had staying warm and trying to outsmart critters. In passing conversation we all agreed that overall throughout the week if we had all been hunting with rifles we would have cleaned up pretty well. We also agreed that that wouldn't have been nearly as fun and the potential reward no nearly so sweet. That's the allure and obsession of hunting with traditional gear.
I know some of you may have expected a dramatic conclusion and tales and pics of slaughtered boars and glory...but for me the path continues. The journey is the sweetness. Once the kill occurs the fun is over and the work begins, ya know?
Shane and I had the farthest to drive overall so we resolved to wake up early and get moving first light. Rob, Chris, Liam, Josh and Steve planned to hit a super BBQ joint in Odessa for lunch that day and take it a bit slower on the return trip.
Without a doubt it was a very cool adventure. Looking back I was actually admiring the discipline I had to have to remain so quiet and still in during the freezing cold to ensure that the hogs would approach my stand. You have to have an iron resolve. You guys who hunt the cold states understand this, no doubt. Spending time alone in the mesquite desert under the cold clear skies with just the oil pumps, kangaroo mice and yotes to keep me company was a meditative exercise and very serene (WHEN I WASN'T FREEZING TO DEATH!!)
I didn't get my first official big game trad kill like Rob and gang wanted, but I did arrow a hog for the first time, and while I'm not proud I didn't recover it, I'm proud that I got so close to sealing the deal. The half-draw bust, as infuriating as it was, was also very exciting. Non-hunters don't realize the primal rush that comes of trying to outsmart an animal on its own turf.
I really enjoyed my time getting to know Rob and the gang, I hope to count them as friends and hunting partners in the future and would hunt with them anytime. I already discussed some potential hog hunting trips in Georgia with Shane and also filled him in on the great WMA's we have here around Tallahassee.
Anyway, I was truly honored to have the opportunity.
Thanks Rob, Chris, Liam, Shane, Josh, Steve for having me as part of the group! Also glad to have a place like Tradgang to where drawings for hunts like this can happen.
Topic: Just returned from west Texas...CONCLUSION. (Read 1294 times)
