The Hog Blog

If you don’t already know, four fellas in Minnesota are taking Scent-Lok and some of the distrubutors to court in a lawsuit claiming that the product doesn’t do what it’s advertised to do.  According to their argument, Scent-Lok is falsely advertising its product to block or contain human scent, making the hunter olfactorily invisible to wild animals.  You can read one of many articles on this topic here.  You can also find someone writing about it just about anywhere in the blogosphere.

I’ve taken kind of a backseat on this whole fiasco, mainly because there’s a big part of me that says, “what’s the news here?  Of course this stuff doesn’t work as advertised.” 

I mean, let’s think about it for a second.  Deer can detect scent in parts per billion.  Pigs are even more attuned.  To even think, for a moment, that a pair of pants and a jacket are going to keep a deer or wild hog from getting a whiff of human… well, that’s just about silly.  Now, even if you add a head scarf, Scent-Lok booties, and a face mask…  do you honestly think you’re going to keep animals from smelling you? 

I don’t think so.  Call me the perpetual cynic if you like, but if you’re not hermetically sealed in some kind of plastic bubble, you’re putting human scent into the air. 

OK, so if I make a common sense challenge, what does that say about our litigation-loving Minnesotans?

Have you ever read Chaucer?  There was a “friar” on the trip to Canterbury, who made at least part of his income selling bones from the fingers of the saints.  Of course, we know (or should know) that the bones were actually chicken bones.  How would that go over today?  We do, after all, have laws in this country regarding false advertising… and those laws are designed to protect the consumers from fraud and abuse. 

I guess my point is, there’s a fine line between caveat emptor and fraudulent advertising.  I’m still not sure which side of that line I see this Scent-Lok controvery standing on, which, of course, is why I’ve been so quiet about it. 

As a hog hunter, a product that really does make you “invisible” to animals would really be a heck of an advantage.  But I’ve stalked hogs with Scent-Lok, Contain, and Scent-Blocker gear (all sent to me to test… I haven’t purchased any of it)… and still, everytime I feel that wind at the back of my neck, the hogs are gone.  Maybe, just maybe there’s some slight advantage…especially if you cover yourself from head to toe in the product.  But honestly, I never bought into it when it first hit the market, and I don’t buy into it now.

That leaves the question…

If it doesn’t really work, then is it right for the company to continue to sell the product?  Is it the fault of the consumers who buy into the advertising hype?  I have a hard time deciding this one.  My guess is, there’s a loophole somewhere in between, and may the best lawyer win.  Unfortunately, that solution seldom resolves anything of substance…  but I’m certainly interested in seeing how it all plays out.

Just a short one for the evening.  There’s actually a lot going on in the world of wild hogs, but I’m still trying to get back on track in the real world after my trip to Colorado. 

So here goes..

The big one for tonight is the explosion of wild hogs in Australia.  I knew they were getting bad, but this article puts it in a whole new perspective.  We already know wild pigs are fecund and adaptable, but apparently they’re booming at an unprecedented rate in the land of Oz.   As the headline suggests, there are now more wild hogs than people in the Land Down Under.  So, pig hunters… where hell are ya? 

And here’s a great tidbit from the Land of the Rising Sun.  A Japanese farmer, apparently tired of the ongoing invasion of wild boar and crows has created a full-fledged family of scarecrows to guard his crop.  Check it out here, in the Mainichi Daily News.

And finally, just to bring it back home, there’s a cool article on KABC (a Los Angeles news station) about a wild game restaurant in Calabasas, CA that specializes, among other things, in wild boar.  Game meat is a trendy thing across the country, and it appears to be surging again in the market place.  Maybe this time the trend will stick, and we can get a good elk steak, or roast loin of venison at our favorite diner?  Not likely.  But it’s a nice thought.  In the meantime, I’ll keep cooking it up at home, and reading articles like this one.

‘Nuff for now.  Stay tuned for the next installment of the Porcine Press!

You know, I am pretty sure that shedding light on positive actions from hunters and hunting organizations is a big deal.  But then I read something like the following, and I feel like I’m falling so short on my end of the deal:

 http://www.haywardwis.com/record/index.php?section_id=957&story_id=234463

My daughter has certain disabilities, and while none of them are immediately life threatening, they were serious enough that we spent some time in the serious illnesses ward at Duke University.  While there, I got to see courage that still brings tears to my eyes… one that stands out most clearly… youngsters whose lives were measured in weeks or months came to our door to take my daughter for a ride around the floor in a little red wagon. 

When I read articles like the one above, the ever-present cynic in me turns yellow and runs away.  I realize there is still good in the world, and the fact that the White Knights are hunters only makes my heart swell the more. 

This is what it should be all about.

I’ve spent the better part of this week reflecting on last week’s Colorado elk hunt.  I’ve mentioned that there were good parts and bad parts, and I may soon have more to say on that.  But there’s another aspect of the hunt that’s been on my mind lately… my hunting partner for the week.

My little brother, Scott, and I haven’t always been the best of friends.  I’m the oldest of three and he’s the youngest, and I must confess to a fair amount of sibling terrorism in our younger days…directed at both him and our middle brother, JD.  Unlike JD, though, Scott would dish it back as hard as he got it even though he was way overmatched.  I always held a grudging respect for his determination and fortitude, even as I did my best to beat it out of him.  Hey, that’s what big brothers do, right? 

He’s six years younger than I, so as I was leaving my teens, he was entering his.  Neither of us was exactly “All-American Boy” material during those years, so that part of our mutual history got a bit dark for a while.  Suffice it to say that, for a few years, there was no love lost between the two of us.  We were both screaming down that Lost Highway, and the only question was which of us was in the passing lane…and whether either of us would see the exit in time.

Well, those days passed, thankfully.  We made it through, wisened and scarred, and I believe both better for the experience and lessons learned.  Sometimes the only way to get through to a mule is between his eyes with a 2×4… but eventually the message gets through.  It was a long haul though, both for us and for our parents and the people who loved us (without whom, I think neither of us would be here today). 

I’ve been pretty deeply involved in hunting since I was a little thing, carried afield by my dad and set on a stump while he shot squirrels for the pot.  Even during my wilder years I stayed pretty involved in the hunting lifestyle, and I honestly believe that the outdoors experience is a big part of what helped to settle me down later. I think it kept me grounded when so many of my friends at the time were swept away… sometimes forever.

Scott came to hunting a little later in the game, but when his wild oats were sewn (and the harvest reaped), he turned to hunting with a passion at least as strong as my own.  I watched… sometimes in amusement and often in anger as he evolved through the stages of skill, ethics, and sportsmanship.  I had to remember that, at one point in my own growth, I’d gone through those same stages.  When he crossed the line, I let him know, but otherwise I could only watch him grow into a hunter.

At some point along that line, we began hunting together more and more.  Our parents had bought a 40 acre farm that backed up on the Cape Fear River.  The swamps and marshes along the river offered almost unlimited access and opportunity for ducks, deer, and small game.  Neighboring properties were also open to us, and we had a small piece of paradise.  It was the right thing at the right time.  We became friends again.  Then, even better, we became hunting partners. 

We started hunting together more and more, chasing whitetails in the hardwoods and swamps, even taking a trip together into the NC mountains (a story in itself that I should write down one day).  We slipped up the little cuts, creeks, and draws along the Cape Fear in search of wood ducks, and blasted the mallards on a nearby quarry lake during a few epic hunts.  We also kept a running big-buck contest on mom’s place (which I must confess, he won handily with a lucky opportunity during the rut many years ago). 

11 years ago, I followed my work to California, leaving my North Carolina home, as well as my brothers, parents, and relatives behind.  I quickly got myself wrapped up in western hunting, but never lost my love of the southern woods.  Scott stepped up and made sure I always had a stand to hunt in whenever I could come home for holidays during the hunting season.  Many Thanksgiving and Christmas visits were sprinkled with frosty mornings in the stand, thanks to my little brother’s efforts. 

As a couple of years passed, and we both became a bit more successful in our respective careers, we found that out-of-state and guided hunts were now within our reach.  In 2003 we hunted together for deer and whitetail in South Carolina.  Two years later, we were hunting elk in Colorado (he got the biggest one there, too…lucky dog).  Last spring we were able to head down to Texas to hunt exotics together.   And of course, last week we chased the elk again in Colorado. 

So where’s all this going, right?  Well, actually, it’s going exactly where it’s been…  a reflection of how my little brother and I became friends and hunting buddies, despite some rocky years in between. 

I guess I’ve been realizing it all along, but it really came clear over the past week in the Rockies.  One of the guides commented at how Scott and I were so often on the same page about things, whether it was the trail we were following or the way we killed time during mid-day breaks.  I saw it then that we are, truly, on the same page… both as hunters and as brothers. 

And that’s pretty cool.

Sorry for the little teaser in the last blog entry.  I couldn’t help myself.  Besides, the trip was fun. 

It wasn’t real productive as far as providing venison for my freezer, though.  Nope, those of us in the HogBlog household won’t be eating fresh elk tenderloin this year.   So here’s a quick summary of the most memorable parts of the trip.  A more detailed account will be available on the JHO Journal later this month.  I’ve also got a lot of video to wade through to see if I can put some kind of comprehensive production together.  Unfortunately, I left my external hard drive (containing the first three days of video) at the lodge, so Rick, the outfitter, is mailing it to me tomorrow.  Should be a week or so to get it in and get the footage edited.

So anyway, here’s the skinny…

My brother and I met up in Montrose, CO to hunt with Rick Webb’s Dark Timber Outfitters.  We’d hunted with Rick’s organization during the first period rifle season in 2005, and had great success, with my brother taking a 320″ bull on the first morning and me taking a raghorn bull the next day. 

Of course, never content with success, we decided to go back with archery tackle this time and up the challenge a touch.  As it turns out, it wasn’t a bad plan, but sometimes things just don’t quite work out as you’d like them to.

First of all, the weather had been very consistent for almost a full week.  Rick ensured us that this was a good thing, as the elk would be moving, feeding, and watering on a consistent schedule.  It had been warm and dry, which wasn’t exactly what I think of when I think of elk hunting in the Rockies, but at least the elk had had time to get into a sort of pattern. 

Of course, we arrived on Friday, and by the time we went to bed on Friday night, a thunderstorm swept down over the mountains.  For anyone who’s never experienced a thunderstorm at 9200 feet, it can be quite spectacular.  Unfortunately, for the elk that had been settled into a calm weather pattern, it was the first monkeywrench in our plans.

Read the rest of this entry »

Wow, thanks to all for the many comments while I’ve been gone!  I’ll try to go through and catch up with everyone when I get home.  Looks like a couple of new readers have popped in, and I appreciate your feedback for sure!

I also got a glimpse at the poll results.  Very interesting indeed!  As of this morning (9/22), the voting is dead-even.  …Thought provoking, to say the least.  I’ve some minor ambivalence on the topic (which is why I put it up), so it’s great to read what you all think.

Oh… my elk hunt?

It was a lot of fun. 

I’ve hunted hogs in three states now, from the Atlantic Seaboard, to the Gulf of Mexico, and on to the edge, of the Pacific.   The CA canyons or the South Carolina swamps all seem awfully like pig country.  But one place I never thought about hunting hogs is Hawaii… at least until a couple of years ago.

On Jesse’s Hunting and Outdoors, we have a few members who live and hunt in paradise, and their stories have spurred my imagination. 

One member, a trans-located Californian who goes by the screen name of “DocCherry”, has totally wrapped me up in the idea of spending the morning hunting, tromping through the jungle munching wild guavas and mangos, shooting a big, Polynesian boar, then jumping in the Boston Whaler to run off the beach and catch a bunch of wahoo (Ono)  and dolphin (mahi-mahi)… all in the same day.  In between hunting and fishing, I would kick back on the beach sipping an umbrella drink and enjoying the perfect weather. 

OK, so maybe it’s not always that idyllic, but parts of Hawaii are loaded with hogs (and goats, sheep, turkeys, and various other game birds), and according to some of the locals, the hunting tradition is fading fast among the younger generation.  As a result, the hills and jungles are relatively barren of other hunters. 

If all goes well, I’ll be over there to give you all the first-hand account sometime in the next year or so.  If anyone is really eager to hear the report, just send me a couple of airline tickets to the big island, and I promise to name you as a benefactor and sponsor on the world-famous Hog Blog! 

One thing I remember far too well about hunting the early seasons in North Carolina was the mosquitos.  Most of my hunting was along the edges of the big swamps, or the thick pocosin, and the skeeters thrived in that wet, still environment.  But so did the deer, which usually meant getting eaten alive on the stand… a true blood sacrifice for the opportunity to put a little venison in the freezer.

Toughing it out is not an option.  I don’t care how “manly” you are, there is no sitting still under a literal black cloud of mosquitos. 

I tried a bunch of different things to protect myself, of course.  Most sprays though, were too smelly, so if I hunted with an unfavorable wind, it was pointless.  When DEET first hit the civilian market, I doused myself in that stuff.  It seemed to work, but it turns out I’m pretty sensitive to chemicals, and that 100% DEET really worked me over.  After an evening in the woods, I’d come out feeling irritable and nauseous.  It took a few hunts to figure out what was causing the problem. 

Years later, on an August deer and hog hunt down in the South Carolina lowcountry, I was introduced to the Thermacell.  This unit works sort of like an incense burner.  You put the wick in the burner, and fire up the butane-powered heater.  As the wick warms, it releases a chemical (Permethrin) into the air for an odorless repellant shield.

I had my doubts, both about its effectiveness and the claims of odorless protection.  I’ve heard that too many times before.  In fact, on that same hunt, I was trying out a highly advertised “odorless” bug dope.  The first morning, a doe stepped into my crosswind and was gone like a shot!  The next day, a hog reacted the same way, just as I was drawing the bow for my shot.  Like most “odorless” claims, this new product was more hype than reality.  So I figured the same about the Thermacell, and decided not to get one. 

I spent the next three days getting chewed to pieces by the skeeters.  Meanwhile, the three other hunters in our group (Maryland Yankees, no less) who had purchased the Thermacell units raved about the performance.  Then, one after the other, they all scored on hogs and deer.  Meanwhile, all I had seen were does and distant pigs…  and skeeters.  LOTS of skeeters.

When I got home from the hunt, I contacted the folks at Thermacell and had them send me a unit for testing.  There aren’t a lot of places in arid California where you’ll find mosquitos, but there are exceptions.  One of those places is on the Sacramento River Delta, and I just happened to have an early-season duck hunt coming up. 

As I walked in and set up, the mosquitos came down on me and my dog in literal swarms.  My yellow lab literally turned black, and began rolling in the mud for relief.  I fired up the Thermacell, and in minutes the air seemed to clear.  I looked up, and I swear this, there was an actual dome of mosquitos, swarming at the outside edges of the Thermacell scent field. 

I was sold.

I’ve since used the unit on both deer and hog hunts, and have had animals walk right into the wind without apparently noticing the smell.  When it’s running, I can detect something like an ozone smell, like right after a lightning strike.  I guess the critters don’t mind that, though. 

Of all the gadgets and gizmos I’ve tried out over the years, this one definitely gets my highest marks.  It works, which is the main thing, but it’s also very reasonably priced and fairly available.  I’ve found refills for the butane and wicks in little country hardware stores, Wal-Marts, and several hunting stores as well. 

With early deer, teal, and dove seasons opening across the country right now, this may be just the tool you need to add to your gear bag.

This has come up a few times, on Jesse’s Hunting and Outdoors and other places, and it has me wondering. 

Here’s the question…

Some father (or mother) wants to get their kid hooked on hunting.  They’ve tried a public land hunt or two, and of course in CA that usually means a lot of dealing with other people, but very little dealing with game.

The kid’s getting frustrated.  The parent is getting frustrated.  What to do?

There are a couple of directions this can go, and to be honest, I’m a bit ambivalent here.

On the one hand, you take the kid somewhere that they’re almost guaranteed to kill a pig (or deer or whatever)…  a “high-fence” or “canned” hunt.  Let the youngster kill something, get some blood on his/her hands.  Success is, without a doubt, a great motivator.

But then what? 

The other camp argues that the kid needs to learn the harsh realities of hunting.  Teach him or her that hunting is about so much more than killing something.  You need to hook them on the experience of “hunting”, and not on just shooting an animal.

 I can see both sides of this.  To begin with, I was brought up in this second camp.  Big game hunting, in general, seldom ends up with a critter on the hooks.  In fact most of the outings will be fruitless. 

But every trip is full of excitement at the same time.  You find sign, and the possibility of a kill is always there.  Maybe you see a doe, or a spike…  but nothing to shoot.  You also experience wildness at its core.  Hoarfrost on the oak leaves, the heady scent of pine duff in the pre-dawn…  a raptor swooping in on songbirds… a family of coons traipsing through the bottoms…  it’s totally worth the wait.  Patience is a virtue, hard-taught to the hunter.  Success is true victory, rare… and valuable mainly through it’s rarity.

The other side of the card is the wild excitement of the shot, and the guilty-exhultant joy of the kill.  Success breeds success, so they say, and once the trigger is pulled and the game is down, how could you argue with that? 

Kids need success these days, and instant gratification is far superior to the battle hard won.  The attention spans of modern kids isn’t what it was when we were young, and if you let that attention drift, you’ve lost the audience.  These kids are raised on MTV and video games, where nothing takes more than a few minutes to decide the outcome.  Force them to spend years or even a season for success, and they will give up and move to something more “rewarding”. 

So which is it?

Is it best to make your young hunter put in the time in the field, even if that means seasons before they achieve the first success? 

Or is it better to cater to the shorter attention span of the modern pre-teen or teen… and take them someplace where the kill is a sure thing? 

What do you think? 

Note:  Sorry to post this while I’m gone and can’t reply directly to your comments, but I do look forward to reading them when I get home.  I hope this generates good discussion, but it can be a hot topic.  Keep it civil, please.

I have too many hunting knives.

OK, not really “too many”.  There can’t be any such thing.  I love good knives, and over the years have accumulated a couple.  This was driven home to me the other night as I packed for my elk hunting trip.

Of the bunch, though, there are two or three that are my real favorites. 

One is a custom knife I picked up a few years ago from a local artist (whose name totally eludes me).  It’s a beautiful, swept-blade skinner with scrimshawed, Micarta grips.  It’s a big knife, though, so about the only game big enough to justify it is elk or the occasional big hog.  The blade was cut from a saw blade (the big ones from the lumber mills), and is strong and hard, but still takes a wicked edge. 

Another favorite is a little Uncle Henry lock-blade.  This is about a 2″ drop-point, skinning blade that drops right into a pocket or the little sheath.  I carry it everywhere.  Folks snicker when I pull it out, but that knife has probably dressed and skinned more deer and hogs than most people have seen (not all mine, granted…but I’m always happy to jump in and lend a hand at the skinning pole).  Because of its size, I can use it on anything from big boars to squirrels, rabbits, and birds. 

Finally, there’s the old standby, the Buck 110, Folding Hunter.  This thing is a true workhorse, as can be seen in the blood-stained, worn leather sheath.  Unfortunately, tough as this knife is, I finally maxed it out while working on some fencing a few weeks ago.  I know better.  I’ve known better since childhood.  But I still found myself using it to pry on a piece of metal.  “Ping!”  The point broke off about three quarters of an inch back.

A few years ago, I would’ve taken a side-grinder to that knife and restored the point.  But that was then, when I couldn’t afford to replace a good tool (of course, back then, I’d probably have been more careful in the first place).  The Saturday before I left on the elk hunt, I went and bought a brand new one.  I’ll probably still put it in the old sheath, though…  it’s got character. 

Do you have a favorite knife?  What makes it special?