This past Saturday was full of “firsts.”
- First hunt at my new lease near Lake Livingston
- First hunt from a pop-up
- First hunt with my GF (her first exposure to hunting, in general)
- First hog taken with my bow.
For the past week, I’d been trying to lower her expectations. “Be fully prepared to sit in silence and sweat your butt off for NO reason. Odds of seeing something our first sit are slim-to-none” Despite the odds, Gizelle was ready to go with her new camo shirt and rubber boots.
On the walk to the stand, I immediately noticed hog sign up and down the road that was not present when I set up the feeder a few weeks ago. I was now cautiously optimistic that we MAY see something.
Along our 1/4mi walk to the stand, we bumped several groups of deer. Having never really done anything “outdoorsy”, Gizelle got a kick out of seeing the deer and was amazed at the sound of the “woods”. “Man, it’s loud out here!” I must admit that I'm a bit out of my element in this area as well. Much diff than the red sand, cacti, and mesquite trees that i'm used to in DuvalCo.
As we got to the blind, I noticed that the area under the feeder was “wallowed out.” Obviously the pigs had “found” the feeder. This had me excited ... Dumped some hog wild and “tested” the feeder.
We got to the blind about an hour later than I intended to. Our scent control sucked. I’m still trying to get my routine down as I’m hunting a new place 1.5hr away with no shower facilities. The little fan I bought in order to maintain SOME level of comfort in the blind so as not to scare her away forever ... was not working. In other words, things weren’t going our way. We sat for a couple hours, sweating our butts off.
Just before sundown, I told her “it’s pig time.” About ten minutes later, she sees movement off to the right. I dismissed it as we had been watching birds come and go all day, shaking the trees. “Not gonna fool me again”. I had never hunted from a pop up and the screen was playing tricks on my eyes. Especially with dwindling light. Then we heard the unmistakeable crunching of corn... “It IS a pig!” Based on the mud matted in his coat, I’d say he had been a regular at the feeder.
I drew on him a couple times but I refused to take any shot that wasn’t broadside or quartered away. We watched him for about 15 minutes, quickly losing light.
I kept catching myself explaining my thought process as the events transpired. “These big ones are big for a reason. They’re smart ... Look at the shape of his head. Boar for sure ... Watch how he will eat around the perimeter ... Notice he looks right at our blind when he steps out.... DONT move!” He’d poke his head out for a few mouthfuls of corn before retreating to the thick cover and darkness of the tree line.
Again, the screen of the blind was really messing with my eyes. The sweat-covered, dusty glasses through which I was looking didn’t help either. By this time, we could only make out the general shape of the pig under the cover of the tree line. Figured I'd better make a shot before we lose any more light.
We had been sitting in some cheap, academy collapsible chairs. I moved to the “shooting stool” I had centered in front of us, in preparation for the shoot. I was too close to the screen. In an attempt to scoot my stool back, I took a tumble and spooked the pig. I began kicking myself! “Why didn’t you get that stuff settled beforehand?!” I figured I had ruined our only chance until a few minutes later. We could hear him making his way back to the feeder.
He couldn’t resist the corn and scent of hog wild. The boar was back, exposing only his front half. It was past sundown, I’m looking through a screen, and the solid black hog is still underneath some overhanging limbs that I’d been telling myself to trim. I could barely see the shape of the body and could tell he was broadside. I floated the pin around the “armpit” area. I drew and whispered, “if he takes one step with his front leg, I’m shooting.” As if he heard me, he took the step, exposing his vitals. I don’t even remember touching my trigger.
I heard the “THUD” of the impact and watched as the pig turned and ran off with about 6” of my 30” arrow sticking from the entrance side.
We listened as he stumbled through the underbrush. “He’s headed toward a dry creek bed.” Not ten seconds after the shot, we heard a loud crash before silence...
A few minutes went by before I tucked my pistol in my shorts and we began trailing. It was dark by this point. A heavy blood trail led us about 30yds to this big dude.
He dumped the arrow as he took a tumble into the creek bed. Found it 3’ from the body. Just holding it in this pic to show entry wound. “Rage to the cage” shredded the heart, no doubt.
“BHD”
G fully participated in the track ... Crawling through the thorny brush in shorts and rain boots, was on her hands and knees examining possible blood, and ultimately spotted the dead hog. Today, she’s covered in bug bites and ready to go back next weekend! I told her that she’s spoiled and reminded her that it was NOT the typical experience.
This dude had a cutter broken off but the size of his head blew my mind. That’s a size 12, insulated boot and a 30” arrow for reference.
Now, I’m no “Ahnold” but I squat/deadlift a couple times a week and could barely move this guy while pulling with full exertion. My guess would be 250+. The plan is to euro the skull to commemorate the occasion.
First bow hog of many (hopefully) in the books. Thanks for reading. Feel like I relived it...
-Tim
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