The Hog Blog

Ya’ll saw the trail cam pictures my brother sent me the other day.  Well, I figured what better motivation to practice, so that’s what I’ve been doing.  I’m not quite there yet, but I’m working on it.

I’ve been pretty excited about going home to NC for the archery deer opener next month.  Ever since I booked the flight, I’ve been counting the days and hours… and they’re moving slow!  And then my little brother had to go and send me this!

Now that was just mean! 

Bow season doesn’t even start there for a little over a month.  Sure, I’ll get out a time or two here in CA and try to manage my appetite, but really…

Ya’ll know me. I’m not picky, and almost never go out with visions of giant bucks in my head.  I shoot meat, not antlers, and just the opportunity to put some more in the freezer is enough to get the anticipation up.  But you can’t just send someone a photo of a deer like this, especially when I know exactly where that picture was taken.  That’s just not right.

Here’s one more look at the beast.  This is not your everyday, southeastern NC whitetail.

I can certainly tell you that the practice with the Mathews has been a little more focused since he sent this. That worn out old Block target has taken a beating, but it looks fresh and new to me now. The bow is shooting great, and the arrows are going consistently where I want them to go. The only unknown in this equation is me. When that big boy walks out in front of me, will I fall out of the tree? Shoot myself in the toe? Or stand there gawking until it finally walks away with a defiant flick of his big, white tail?

So the quest begins…

I thought this would be a little more fun than the usual 10 minutes of footage in which I don’t get anything.  Hope you enjoy.

OK, so this isn’t so much a story as a picture and a quick note.  You may recognize this guy.  It’s Matt, De Hog Shootines’ Gent’man.

Matt took this fat, blacktail forkie down south of me, in the Central Coast region during the second week of the A-zone archery season.  In his email, he made sure to mention to all the cold-weather hunters that it was 104 degrees out there when he  arrowed this buck. 

Matt’s got a pretty solid streak running, with an annual buck, and any number of wild hogs and turkeys.  With a little gang of young’uns coming onto big game hunting age, he’ll have his hands (and his freezer) full soon. 

Anyway, I guess this is further proof that there are bucks in the A zone.  I suppose now I’m gonna have to head out this weekend and see if I can find one of my own.  Not looking forward to 100 degree heat, though.

Well, it’s finally here!  Tomorrow morning, one-half hour before sunrise will herald the official start of the 2010 California deer hunting season!  Best of all, I’ll be out there, Mathews Drenalin in hand, hoping to hang my first CA archery tag on a blacktail buck. 

I’ve been waiting eagerly all spring and summer for this, especially since I haven’t even had a chance to chase hogs over the past few months.  The jones has been particularly bad over the last two or three weeks.  I’ve had to turn down a couple of guiding opportunities over at Native Hunt due to work obligations, and I know those guys had some great hunts going on. 

This weekend, as I mentioned before, I’ll be joined in the field by Josh, a regular commenter here and an excellent blogger in his own right.  You can see his blogs at Ethics and the Environment and Lands On The Margin, and read what he’s thinking about too.  I think he’s just about as ready to get out and hunt as I am!

The video and still cameras will be along, and maybe I’ll even actually get some footage this trip.  Stay tuned!

OK, so I’m really not back “in the groove” as much as I’d like to be, but I am back in CA and hunting is on my mind. 

I realize of course, that mid-summer doesn’t really equate to hunting for folks in most of the country, and I can certainly relate.  When I go back in my mind to my formative hunting experiences, they usually involve short days, frosty mornings, and the autumn smells of wood smoke and burning leaves.  Rambling over hillsides in 100-degree heat just doesn’t seem quite right. 

But hunting is hunting, and while a lot of hunters tell me that they could never get used to the idea of hunting in July heat, I can promise that most of them would jump at the opportunity to get back in the field if it were offered.  And yeah, I also know that you don’t have to hunt the summer seasons in CA.  There are options to get out in September and October, and even a few that run into November.  You can hit the Sierra high-country and enjoy a more “traditional” hunting experience if you really want to.  But me… I’m ready now! 

So July 10 is the opening day for the A-zone archery season, and I have every intention of being out there.  I’ll be tuning up the Mathews, sharpening some broadheads, and hoping that my archery jinx is well and truly broken.  I’ve already booked a slot at the Golden Ram Hedgepeth Ranch (one of my favorite spots).  The primary target will be blacktail deer, but there are always good odds of getting a shot at a hog on this ranch, especially during the archery season. 

I’ve also extended an invite to my friend and fellow blogger, Josh, to join me for the weekend.  From the looks of things, we’ll likely be dealing with some high temperatures, but I’ve got even higher hopes that at least one of us will fill a tag… and that will make it worth the sunburn and sweat.

It’s definitely something to look forward to!

In this season of giving thanks, here’s something many of us CA bowhunters can be thankful for… Chopper Snyder is re-opening his Wild Hog Adventures for bowhunters. 

Chopper’s place is set in the hills just below Hollister, and for several years he ran semi-guided archery hunts.  I was fortunate enough to hunt there several times over the years he was in business.  I can honestly say I missed more pigs there in all the times I visited than most public land hunters have ever seen. 

OK, it’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but hey… hunting hogs with a recurve on open land is no mean feat.  It may have something to do with the phenomenon called “target panic”, but that’s neither here nor there.  The point is, the hunting can be pretty danged good there.  It’s open land, and pigs can come and go from the property, but they’re generally on the place somewhere for those who are willing to put in the effort.

What started as a once-in-a-while deal evolved into a full-time, day in and day out business.  That was a little more than Chopper had bargained for, as he suddenly found himself working with hunters every weekend (and many weekdays).  Between the hunts and his regular job, he didn’t have time to spend with his family, so he finally put it to a stop… always with the idea that he might re-open later. 

My friends Steve and Kirk with a nice boar from Chopper's place

And now he has.  While he’s only planning to run a limited number of hunts, it’s a great opportunity for bowhunters who want to hunt hogs without competition from gun hunters. 

The hunts are generally for two days, beginning at 0900 on a Friday and running until noon on Sunday.  The hunt cost is $400/hunter, and included in the cost is a stay in the hunting cabin (a comfortable cabin in a beautiful spot, with room to sleep seven, a fireplace, gas stove, grill, and hot-and-cold showers, and a temperamental electric generator that may or may not provide electricity for the evening), access to a covered skinning shed, and a walk-in cooler. 

The hunt itself is totally unguided.  Chopper will do an orientation tour of the ranch when hunters arrive, and after that, the hunters are pretty much on their own.  Pay attention during the orientation, because while there are plenty of roads, they can get confusing.  You probably won’t get totally lost, because all roads either hit the fence or loop back to where they started, but it sucks to burn up good hunting time trying to find your way around.   This is the voice of experience speaking, by the way.

You’ll also need a decent 4-wheel drive with good clearance, especially during the wet, winter months.  I was able to hunt most of the place with my stock, Dodge Ram 2500, although it’s more comfortable in my Samurai as some of the roads get a little tight.  Most of the hunting will be on foot, though… if you think you’ll drive around and kill hogs, you’ve got another thing coming. 

Anyway, it’s a great hunt opportunity.  To set up a hunt, shoot Chopper an email at: chopper1709@yahoo.com or you can call at:  831.682.0468

Remember, there will be a limited number of hunts, so if you’re interested, you’ll want to get in on it quickly.

So, the other day when he shipped the meat from my NC doe, my brother mentioned he was shipping me something else too.  He was kinda secretive about it, but I didn’t think too hard on it, figuring I must’ve left some of my gear behind.  He sent the second package by ground, because the overnight service we used for the meat was a little too pricey, so it took a couple of extra days for my package to arrive.  I’d almost forgotten about it. 

Today, I noticed a big ol’ box in the doorway with my name on the label.  “Hmm,” thinks I, “what the heck is this?”

I have a short memory sometimes, and the rest of the time I have no memory at all…

I sliced open the tape and started digging through the cellulose peanuts (no one uses styrofoam anymore).  I felt a board… and on lifting it from the packing I saw the coolest frickin’ thing I’ve seen in a long time!

So ya’ll may remember that I mentioned in the story from my NC hunt, that, when I was feeling pretty sure I’d lost another animal to the bow, I broke the offending arrow on the running board of my brother’s truck? 

In frustration, I took the unlucky arrow, laid it across the running board of Scott’s truck, then stomped it in half.

Well, when I broke it, I tossed it in the back floorboard of my brother’s truck (don’t litter, it’s rude).  Well, the sneaky, and thoughtful, little devil saved if for me and made me a gift I’ll treasure for a very long time…

It’s better than any set of horns or skin!  I don’t know if you can read it (click it to see a larger image), but it says the date, and “The Jinx is Broke!” 

That’s just downright cool. 

I hope to put a lot more animals behind this bow in my hunting career, but no trophy will ever be as important to me as this one right here.  Many, many thanks to my little brother, Scott!

On Saturday afternoon, after about three hours of sweating, crashing through the cat-claws and spider webs, and being eaten alive by chiggers and mosquitos, I had a really bad feeling.  As the blood trail seemed to evaporate into thin air and the ground was crisscrossed with fresh tracks and trails, it was looking like I’d be bringing home another sad tale of lost game.  We’d covered almost every nook and cranny on my brother’s little place, with no further sign of my deer.  The blood first looked like someone had turned on a spigot, then suddenly became a few scant drops about fifteen yards apart… and then… nothing.

So let’s back up.

Saturday was the opening day of the NC archery season, and as a birthday gift, my mom offered to fly me back home for the event.  I couldn’t turn that down, even if there were no hunt, since I haven’t seen the family in a while.  I booked the tickets, and on Friday morning I was on the ground and saying, “hello” to my old Carolina home.

My brother, Scott, had done plenty of pre-scouting, and had even hung a stand for me in the woods near mom’s place.  That would allow me to maximize the hunting-to-visiting ratio, since I could walk to the woods from the house.  Unfortunately, that property is being sold off and my brother lost his hunting rights.  We regrouped, and returned to his property down the road.  He’s got a ton of deer there, and since I’m meat hunting, I really didn’t need to find a monster (although he’s got a couple of real nice bucks there). 

Saturday morning at first light found me up the tree.  The stand is set on top of a dirt mound, which put me about 25 feet up from the ground.  It’s the same stand I was in last year when I had the sad tale of the lost buck that became bear food, but I didn’t let that bother me.  In fact, I decided to use the same arrow and broadhead I’d used then… sort of pushing back against luck. 

Before light, several deer had moved through the thicket behind me, but after that things were pretty quiet until around 0900.  I heard a deer blow a little ways up the trail.  I couldn’t tell what it was blowing at, and didn’t hear anything bolt through the woods, so I stood up and started looking around.  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught something through the brush directly behind me.  Sure enough, a big old doe was meandering along the trail. 

I eased around and lifted the Mathews off the hook, then turned ever-so-slowly back to face the deer.  She was oblivious, but moving painfully slowly.  Finally, she entered a clear spot.  When her head went behind a tree, I drew, and when the near leg moved forward, I let the arrow fly.

Now I haven’t shot a lot of arrows at a lot of animals, but most of those shots I have taken were errant.  The thing is, there’s always a moment after you release that I have to wonder if I just screwed up.  And usually, I did.  But this time there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that I was looking at a dead deer.  The chartreuse and white fletchings lasered right into the spot I’d aimed at, and angled through perfectly to stick in the ground on the other side.  It looked textbook from where I was standing, and in my mind a cheer went up… finally!

The doe hopped the creek, and I could see her for about fifty yards through the oaks and briars.  She disappeared, and then things went quiet.  I didn’t hear her crash, but I was certain she’d laid down and gone to sleep.  I glassed the arrow, and even from 17 yards away I could see it was well-covered in blood. 

I sat back down in the stand and played with the video camera for a few minutes… trying to be patient so as not to push too soon.  I may have lasted 20-30 minutes, which may not usually be enough time, but I was extremely confident in the shot.  I just knew the deer was laying there, already dead.  The day was warming up fast, and I was excited, so down the ladder I went.

The arrow looked and smelled perfect.  It was soaked in blood, and it smelled like a chest cavity (distinct smell if you’ve ever dressed a deer).  There was no blood at the spot, though, which was kind of odd.  I followed the tracks across the creek, and up on the bank I found my first drops.  It was scarce at first, then becoming a solid splash of red on the oak leaves and low branches.  I moved along in confidence as the trail avoided the thick stuff and stayed in the open path… a sure sign of a well-hit animal.  When the trail veered off into the thick stuff, that’s where I’d find her.

But suddenly the blood just seemed to stop.  She’d turned off the spigot!  I figured that she’d bled out and I’d find her under a bush or blowdown, but I didn’t.  WTF?  I kept backtracking to the last blood, then circling out on likely trails.  When that didn’t pan out, I circled out on unlikely trails too.  Still, nothing.  I went back to the last spot and stood there, scanning the ground and trying to think. 

Then there was a drop, barely visible on an overturned leaf.  I moved up and stood there scanning again.  About ten feet away I saw a glistening spot, and on investigation it was another drop of blood.  I found one more, and then was stumped. 

My brother had come out of his stand, and I heard him out at the barn so I hollered for him to come over and give a hand.  But try as we might, we couldn’t find another single drop!  We crawled on hands and knees, pushed through brambles, and spread our search out until we’d eventually gridded the entire 20 acre woodlot.  He even brought in his dog, but she got hung up in the same place we did.

After about three hours, hot, scratched, bug-bitten, and hungry, we decided to back off and get some lunch.  Back at the truck, we talked about what happened.  We were both at a total loss.  We consider ourselves pretty fair trackers, and we’ve found some tough animals, but this one looked to have given us the slip.  Still, we kept thinking back to last year’s buck… it turned out to have been laying less than 50 yards from where my brother gave up the search.  And the year before, we kept almost giving up and then going back to look some more, until we found his doe.  Persistence pays in the tracking game… but this one had really maxed us out. 

In frustration, I took the unlucky arrow, laid it across the running board of Scott’s truck, then stomped it in half.  We loaded up and went back to mom’s place for sandwiches.  He was going to run home and shower and get a short nap, then we’d decide what to do about my deer.  The options seemed slim.  Either go back and look some more, or call it a loss.  Neither of us wanted to give up, but it didn’t look good.  He drove off, and I stretched out on the couch.

I was sleeping pretty hard when I heard Scott’s ringtone (an elk bugle) on my cell phone.  I rolled off the couch and answered.  “Is it time to go already?”

“Hey,” he said.  “Get over here to my barn and skin your damned deer!” 

On his way home, he’d thought about one trail we didn’t search.  (This is the benefit of having such an intimate knowledge of your property.)  He walked down that trail, and then started up a side trail on a whim.  A few yards in, he hit blood.  A couple hundred yards later, he found my doe.  The shot had been exactly where I’d described it, and he was purely amazed at how far she’d run. 

While waiting for me to arrive, he went ahead and gutted her to avoid spoilage.  In the process, he performed a little post-mortem.  Two things conspired to almost cost me my deer.  First, this doe had unusually tiny lungs.  My shot had been nearly textbook, but I only passed through one of her lungs. 

The second factor was probably the extreme angle.  I was 25′ up and 17 yards away.  The doe was stepping down the creek bank, and quartering slightly away.  My arrow went in about 2/3 up and about six inches behind the shoulder, and exited a few inches above and behind the off-side “armpit”.  It went just behind the heart, and completely severed the esophagus (yuck!).  How it missed the second lung is beyond me, but there ya go.  And even so, it’s amazing how she managed to go so far with the massive internal injuries! 

I can’t thank my little brother enough for his perseverance and patience, not to mention for all the effort he always takes to try to make sure I have a great hunt whenever I go back home.  By finding this deer, he really salvaged my confidence in archery tackle… and possibly my entire future as a bowhunter.  As much as I love everything that goes into archery hunting, I don’t take lost animals lightly, and this would have been my fourth (two hogs with the recurve, and the little buck from last year).  I was seriously contemplating surrendering the bow for good…

By the way, you’ll see the sign I’m holding in the picture.  Accent Outdoor Adventures is my brother, Scott’s new guide service.  He’s offering whitetail hunts in southeastern NC and in South Carolina as well.  He also guides waterfowl during the season along the Cape Fear River.  If you’re interested in a hunt, give him a call at 910-612-1620. 

Well, as I write this I’m sitting in the airport in Las Vegas, NV.  This is the first of two stops before I find myself back in Wilmington, NC… just in time for the archery deer season opener on Saturday morning! 

Last year’s hunt was exciting, but the bear got my deer before I did… and that just doesn’t seem fair.  So I’m heading back to try it again.

I’ll be on and off this computer thing while I’m out there, but unless something big comes along, I doubt there’ll be any updates until I get back to California. 

In the meantime, here’s hoping for a great big whitetail buck!  It’s time to end this archery jinx!