Hog hunt, 7/23/2015

Another day, another hog hunt.  

I set out again around 5:00 with temps hovering right around 100 degrees.  As before, liberal amounts of bug dope applied.

I have had a hog pipe set up for several months, and it has seen quite a bit of action lately.  I decided that tonight's hunt would focus on the thick, dark woods directly behind the pipe.  Perhaps I should digress a bit here and paint the picture of the hog pipe:

My hog pipe is a homemade device consisting of a 5 foot segment of 4" diameter plain, unpainted PVC pipe, which is threaded at each end.  Each end is capped.  I drilled 3/8" holes along the body of the pipe, and then attached about ten feet of steel cable to the nearest tree.  I uncap one end and fill with deer corn once a week.  The hogs go wild over rolling and tossing the pipe all over the place, but the corn comes out in pretty small amounts.  A 50lb bag lasts me a couple of weeks.

My pipe is set up on the edge of a pipeline right of way and a patch of thick, dark swampy woods.  I have found this "transition zone" to be a great place to find deer and hogs alike.  

I have noticed lately that my pipe has been savaged by something large and aggressive.   A young sweet gum sapling has been bent parallel to the ground by muddy rubs that go almost 3 feet high.  The steel cable has cut deeply into the PVC by the force of the animal tossing it around nearby tree trunks and bushes, almost resulting in a complete decapitation of one of the end caps.  I have had this same hog pipe continually going for almost five years in various locations, and it has never before been savaged like this.  My trail cam has been down, so no pics of the beast that is responsible.

And damned if I didn't go in and find him.

My strategy had the simplicity that only the dumb and/or inexperienced can have.  I have a double measure of both.

I rattled the pipe with my foot, hoping the sound of the rolling corn would perk the ears of any nearby hogs.  Then I followed a well-worn game trail into the deep woods behind the pipe.  I haven't hunted these woods before, so I didn't know much about them.

I was wearing plastic lower-leg guards, the type that kind of snap over your boots and extend up to the knees.  I was wearing these because in two previous days of stalking, I had very nearly stepped on two water moccasins, and had seen perhaps ten others.  This is very snaky country, and I can only imagine what the emergency room bill would be.

However, the snake guards did make walking quietly through a dry, crackling wood pretty hard.  I took my time and watched for the exact locations where my footfalls would be before I took a stride.  I fudged a few steps and in general thought I was being louder than I should, but still decently quiet.

A flicker of his tail gave him away.  He was alone, as most boars are, and he was not two hundred yards deep into the forest from where my pipe was situated at the forest's edge.  I do not doubt that this was the boar that had been hitting my pipe.

I crept to within 30 yards undetected by the boar.  I was and am satisfied that my stalking skills are getting better.  However...

My first clear shot would have been an ass shot, basically me shooting at the base of his tail and hoping that the bullet would penetrate lengthwise.  I think that a 170 grain Remington Core-Lokt out of the .30-30 would have done just that at 30 yards, but for reasons that escape me, I waited.  I vaguely remember wanting to see the whole animal before shooting.  For some reason, that seemed important, and perhaps it was.

I waited, attempted to reposition, pulled up again, and cranked up the scope on him.  There was a little brush in the way, but not much.  I thought I had a decent enough neck shot, and touched one off.  He immediately ran across my frontal vision from left to right, straight into the thickest, nastiest swamp I have ever seen.  I shot at him on the run, but knew before I pulled the trigger that I wouldn't hit him.  I walked over to the water's edge and raised two water moccasins, one of which was a good 30" long and thick in the body.  I chased him no further.

Of course, I backtracked and searched long and hard for any sort of blood trail.  Of course, there was none.  

I must say that the lesson is much the same as the day before:  stalking up within range of pigs has been successful, but sealing the deal with a proper shot has been a failure.  Again, it is patience and discipline and perhaps skill at shooting moving targets.  Again, the lesson is not lost on me:  more patience is needed when setting up for the kill shot.  Wait until it is a chip shot.  This I have learned, and this I will do.  

In the meantime, I will just keep huntin'.

River bottom hog hunt, 7/22/2015

Had an enjoyable late afternoon/evening hog hunt in the swampy, steamy July riverbottoms.  Temp hovered around 100 degrees when I set out, and very soon my jeans and t-shirt looked like they'd been drowned.  The bugs in the swamp are frightful:  not just mosquitoes, but the clouds of biting horseflies, yellow jackets, red wasps and loads of other unidentifiable flying insects make strong bug-dope an absolute necessity.  This is the type of terrain I was hunting:

See the high-water marks on the trunks from recent floods

It is too hot to sit in a blind or stand in July, and I was "exploring" as much as I was hunting, so I chose a general area that I wanted to investigate and set out.  Still hunting is my preferred method of chase-- I like to get out and see what there is to see.  It's also more challenging, in my opinion, because when you move you have many more opportunities to bungle things up, whether it be your loud walking, misreading the wind direction, allowing your movements to give you away, etc.

Texas had a very wet spring and early summer, but things have dried off over the last few weeks, leaving the forest floor crackly and difficult to creep through without making noise.  Today I was focusing on technique more than finding game.  I am an avid hunter, and a passionate one, but I cannot say that I am yet a very skillful one.  Today's focus was on patience and discipline: walking excruciatingly slowly so as to keep noise to a minimum, and to see, hear, smell, and feel the forest as fully as I could experience it.  In the immortal words of Syrio Forel, "See with your eyes."

Thirty minutes in and I heard a loud grunt.  I froze and grinned to myself: there they were.  I stalked patiently, slowly, slowly, and found a nice place to wait for the hogs to come into view.  Then, I waited.  And waited.  

I heard the grunt again, this time closer, and I almost yelled in frustration:  it was a crane.  A huge, six-foot water bird whose ugly honk sounds eerily similar to a pig's snort.  This is not the first time I've been duped by a crane.

I set out on my silent stroll again, and pretty soon got into a nice zone.  I didn't have to think so hard about placing my feet silently; my feet found a nice, natural rhythm on their own.  If I saw movement, I turned my head subtly, not quickly, and my movements settled into a slow, smooth pattern.  I felt like I was doing pretty good- this is exactly what I wanted to practice today.

Then I saw them.  Two sows with piglets, in a dry slough thirty yards to my left.  They were facing away from me and feeding as they walked.  I found them in the scope but couldn't get a clean shot before they'd moved around an impenetrable wall of green brush.  I could hear them chomping loudly.

Here's where I'd screwed up in the past:  I had hogs right in front of me, but they were in heavy cover and I didn't have a clear shot.  I knew from regrettable experience that rushing the shot is the worst possible thing to do.  So, I did exactly what I'd not done in the past: I sat on the ground and did nothing.

I waited ten minutes in silence, still as a statue, listening to them feed and grunt to each other.  I had a tree next to me for a good rest if they left cover and gave me a clean shot, but it didn't happen. After another five minutes, I slowly crept laterally to my right, trying to get them in view.  Eventually I could see them, but there was still to much brush in the way to shoot.  I sat again behind an oak and waited.  They moved off a bit and I began to worry that they'd leave without giving me an opportunity.  

I rushed the shot.

With the crack of the .30-30, one, two, three, four, .... seven adult sows and a dozen or so piglets ran straight across my field of view.  I had a few seconds to fire while they ran through the open timber, much like shooting birds on the wing.  I fired three times.  Three clean misses.

No kill today, but I still gained some valuable experience.  I was pleased with my patient stalking:  I got to within 10 yards of the bunch, and they were not alerted to my presence until I took the shot.  I also discovered some prime feeding grounds that I can hunt again down the road.

I also learned that I need to work on my shooting.  A lot.  I have shot a fair amount lately, but mainly to zero in the scope on my .30-30.  Bench rest shooting is not field shooting, that much I learned.  I need to learn to shoot at moving targets.  I believe my equipment to be suitable for this type of hunting:  a Marlin .30-30 with Bushnell 3x9 40mm scope.  It's the guy behind the gun that needs work.  

1972 Marlin .30-30, a great hog rifle

I may consider removing the scope and going back to the iron sights.  That might be a better setup for shooting pigs on the run, but it is a clear step back when shots are a little longer.  I'm going to practice a bit more with the scope and table that thought for now.

Four shots, four clean misses.  My shooting needs practice.

When I searched the ground where the hogs had been feeding, seeking fruitlessly for a nonexistent blood trail, I came across what they appear to have been searching for:  crawfish.  There are a great many crawfish in the shallow muddy sloughs, and I knew that raccoons like to eat them.  Apparently feral hogs do too.

Crawfish look like tiny lobsters.  

I very nearly stumbled upon this unexpected water moccasin on the way back to the truck.  This is the second one in two days that I've nearly stepped on.  I have a pair of slip-on snake guards that cover the shins and calved.  They will definitely be on my legs until the weather cools off.

Second water moccasin I've almost stepped on in two days.

Of course, the day is not only about hunting, but being outside and experiencing nature, even on a 100 degree July day in a swamp, is always a treat.