Here’s a little something more to keep you occupied while I recover from my recent trip to Georgia and get the post put together…

My blog friend, Rex, has got a little slice of heaven down there in Mississippi.  He’s got deer, squirrels, and even a nice little duck pond.  He’s also got pigs… lots of ‘em.  To make it better, apparently a neighbor has put in peanuts nearby, so the pig hunting is really heating up.  And just to up the ante a little more, he often invites his friends down to help hunt some of these critters.  I keep swearing I’ll make it down there myself one of these days.

Meanwhile, Rex and friends are making the most of it, as you can see here in his recent blog post.  If you’ve never read any of Rex’s posts, by the way, prepare yourselves… he’s got a killer sense of humor, and is one heck of a storyteller too!

Hunting season is cranking up all over the country now, so I hope to read and hear more stories from you guys about your successes and your efforts.  My season is a little out of whack right now, partially because I’m doing everything I can to get this Texas thing done… but also because I’ve got a couple of opportunities this year that I never expected.

Anyway, JR Young, a regular reader and Hog Blog commenter had one heck of a great adventure at Stone Mountain Safaris in British Columbia this past August.  In a hunt he won at the RMEF dinner, he and his dad went up to BC on an insane multi-species hunt.  Targets included moose, elk, and caribou, and it sounds like there were opportunities for everything on the menu.  I won’t spoil the whole story.  JR’s done an excellent write-up over at the KUIU Forums, and it’s absolutely worth a read. Check it out.

He also got a little video from the trip, including this great segment in which his dad hammers a bull moose.

Congrats to JR and his dad!

What price, glory? 

I got this tale in yesterday’s email from my friend, Lt. Dan.  Lt. Dan is one of the fortunate folks who gets to hunt over on Vandeberg AFB, which is open to active and retired military and contractors.  Until last year (I think it was), the base was also open to escorted guests, but that program has been shut down. 

That’s neither here, nor there, I guess.  The point is, everytime I hear from Dan about a hunt at V-berg, I get a little jealous.  Not only is the place loaded with pigs, it sounds like a beautiful piece of central coast landscape… the kind of place where just getting out there is its own reward.  But remember… every reward has its price.

So anyway, here’s Dan’s tale.  Enjoy!

Ever had a bad case of buck fever?   You get the shakes and the cross hairs always seem to point at sky?  I’ve had that.  I’ve also had swine flu, similar but the cross hairs seem to rest on the dirt.

This is the first time I’ve really had a bad case of Spring Fever and it’s different.   Spring Fever makes you do stupid things, things that defy the bounds of common sense.  That’s how this story begins….

So I’ve had a case of Spring Fever for awhile and been dying to hit the field and chase some hogs.  Scheduling and weather have been thwarting those efforts until last week when it all seemed to come together. 

I gave my buddy Jim a call and as it turns out, he was suffering from the same illness and it’s off to Vandenberg we go.  A friend of mine lives up in Lompoc and is some sort of hog guru.  He’s got the golden pig touch, so we give him a call to get the latest hog report.

I swear that guy should just make a recording, “Hi, this is Al and here’s Friday’s hog outlook.   Area 4 is looking good, with fair to medium sized sows with the occasional sighting of boar expected…..” Anyway we got the report and made it one of our favorite spots, and the one spot Al advised AGAINST.

It’s about 5:30, early yet.  The wind is absolutely whipping down the valley and over the edge of the cliff.  I mean, it’s a cheek flapping,  g-force, nostril burning kind of wind.  We quickly decide to try a different spot and spend about an hour and half in a quiet little valley seeing absolutely NADA.  The big fat zero.

As it gets closer to dusk, the wind starts to ease off and we head back to our little rock perch and sure enough, no sooner had we rested butt cheeks on rock when Jim calls “HOG”. 

He describes it as black and silver and of course, I don’t see squat.  We go through that famous litany all hunters know, “…see that yellow bush? Next to the dead branch?  It’s right there!”

Of course,   all I see is tall vegetation, much taller than I remember from our last trip.  Suddenly, a big brown hog steps into a small clearing and I grab the Tikka, and just as quickly, it disappears.  Jim doesn’t see it, but we know there are two hogs down there.  A minute goes by and into the clearing steps the silver and black hog Jim saw.  The hogs steeply quartering away and I’ve got maybe 3 seconds to make the shot.  I throw the rifle up settle the cross-hairs and let fly.  It’s 7:30.

Jim almost fell off the cliff.  In retrospect, I should have warned him of the impending shot.  Did you know that 30-06 is loud?  Apparently so.

Anyway, the hogs down at about 150 yard and a -27 degree angle and I realize I’ve done a stupid spring fever thing.  I’ve got to go down the cliff in failing light…and it’s steep.  Almost vertical.

Jim stays behind to guide me to the hog and I begin my descent.  Quickly, I realize that it’s REALLY steep and the only thing preventing me from plunging to my death is the lush vegetation.  Ever go down a water slide and have the swim shorts ride up the crack of your butt?  It’s like that, except no water, just….poison oak!  Aww, crap. I knew that green stuff looked familiar!  My pants legs are riding up to my knees and lots of bare leg exposed, but I’m committed, and gravity knows no master.

Jim takes the truck down to the end of the valley, unloads the cart and brings it back and helps me drag the hog the 100 yards to the cattle trail.  It takes an hour to bust through 100 yards of brush and poison oak and another hour to the truck.   Took the shot at 7:30 and got to the truck at 10:00.
 
We vowed never to hunt that spot again, this late in the spring.

The boar weighed 144.6 dressed and had ½ inch gristle plates.  The bullet went in behind the left shoulder and lodged under the right ear.

My doctor’s appointment is in about an hour.  I know what Spring Fever does.  It causes the strawberry colored blisters forming on my legs.  It also causes the smile I’m wearing today.

Tikka T-3 lite, 30-06
Winchester 150 gr E-tip
Nikon 3x9x40 BDC
150yds, -27 degrees.

What’s this blog about again?  Oh yeah.  Hog hunting!

Well, I haven’t been doing a lot of that myself lately, but fortunately I get to hunt vicariously through some friends… friends like Bryan, an ex-Californian now living in Nevada.  But the distance doesn’t keep him from getting back here and getting it done!  Here’s an email he sent me recently (sorry, I didn’t edit so it’s still in the informal style of an email…)

Been puttin in my time on a few private ranches in Nor Cal a lot lately. I invited a long time friend of mine that I used to hunt with all the time. We havent seen each other in 5 years, so he made the 5 hour drive to my house and we met another buddy of mine. We all headed to the ranch. We have been really hitting the early morning hunts hard going to were the hogs bed, but haven’t been kicking out any pigs. These ranches are loaded with fresh sign and it looked like a disc has been pulled all over the ranch.

We decided to to set-up on 1100 ranch where we know the hogs travel through. We got all set-up about 2 hours before last light. I took the center of an open field, a buddy of mine was about 400 yards to my east watching a canyon and another buddy of mine was about the same distance away to my west covering another set of draws. I posted myself under an oak tree and started to glass the open vast field and canyons straight ahead.

About 15 minutes of legal shooting time left, I glance behind me and catch 3 hogs trotting through the oaks. They would stop and root and move up a few more feet. I then saw about 15 hogs all together in this group. The hogs were about 90 to 100 yards out and I knew it made for an easy shot. I sat up took a knee and put my cross hairs on the largest pig. The pig was broadside and rooting under an oak. As I started to put pressure on my trigger, I saw a bigger hog come into scope view. I then bounced my crosshairs on that hog. That hog was also rooting and gave me a perfect broadside shot opportunity. I squeezed the trigger on my .270 and my 150 grain Remington Core-Lokt hit that hog just above the front shoulder. The hog was dropped and that was that. I racked another round to put another one down and the hogs were running through the trees. I couldnt make a good shot on another hog, so I didnt shoot. Those hogs ran right to my buddy just east of me and I heard a crack of a rifle and a squeal. 2 hogs down and a few happy hunters. Got the hogs loaded up on the quads and back to camp. We got 2 sows about 200-225 range, should make for some good eatin. Was a great 5 day hunt in some beautiful weather. I was really hoping to get my buddy on a hog (Since its been a few years since he got one), but it didnt work out. Hopefully, he can make it back out with me and well give it another try. I’m gonna head back in about 2 weeks and see if I can fill two more tags.

Nice work, Bryan!  Tell Dave, “better luck next time!”

My friend, Torrey, just sent this pic from a successful day in Mendocino County. 

Smiling dogs, smiling hunters, and lots of pork for the freezer!  I’m not a big houndsman, but I can sure see how folks like Torrey can get a kick out of it.

While I was out helping out with our hunters at Native Hunt this weekend, some Hog Blog friends were out getting it done on their own.

First of all, my friend David was back up at the Golden Ram’s Hedgepeth Ranch last week, and managed to make the past tense out of a sow.

In his own words…

I went back up to the Hedgepeth on Thurs after missing a MONSTER on Tues.  Was walkin through the same area and heard them russlin around in the leaves below me.  I circled down below them and started walking up the hill.  I could see some small ones under an Oak tree and then a good size sow walked out and presented a good shot.  As Im raising the rifle I felt a slight breeze on the back of my neck.  She started to sniff the air, and right when I had her in my scope she looked at me.  I let the 30-06 rip and she never took another step.

Meanwhile, away down south in Dixie (Mississippi), my friend Rex and the Christmas Place Gang were having a regular hogathon.  While they should have been shooting deer, they fell into my bad habits and everyone shot hogs instead… and some pretty danged nice ones too!  Check out the story at Rex’s Deer Camp blog.

For my own part, our hunters at Native Hunt did pretty well.  By the end of the weekend, we had eight hogs down for seven guys (if I counted this right).  The rain made things a little tricky, and despite some minor adventures in the clay, mud, and fog, we were able to get in there and get it done! 

I’m heading back up to Native Hunt this coming weekend, as soon as I get back from a work trip to Spokane.  Wonder if there are any hogs up in Washington yet?

One of the blogs I visit pretty much every day is Rex Howell’s Deer Camp.  Rex was one of the first bloggers I “met” in the blogosphere, and his site is always entertaining and occasionally educational. From his family’s Christmas Place Hunting Camp in Mississippi, he comes up with hilarious tales of tomfoolery with his dad, brothers, friends, and Camo the Wonderdog.  He writes some fun ghost stories as well.  Those southern woods are full of scary stuff, and the history of the region is rife with secrets and untold tales.

Of course, being in MS, those woods are also full of hogs.  Rex, knowing my penchant for porkchops, keeps me looped in on the porcine goings on down there, and teases me constantly with invitations to come down and, “help out with their hog problem.” 

One of these days, I am going to just hop on a plane and fly out there.  Those Mississippi pigs will never know what hit them!  But in the meantime, Rex’s brother Burney appears to be on a hog killing rampage.  Here’s his latest, and with deer season just now getting underway, I’m pretty sure it won’t be his last.  (The picture is pretty small, but you can get the idea.  I think Rex is secretly jealous that his brother keeps killing the hogs while Rex is stuck behind the computer writing his blog.)

If you haven’t already, you should definitely go check out Rex’s site.  It’s almost halloween, so it’s guaranteed he’ll be cooking up some more tales of the Mississippi macabre, with a hunting story or two thrown in for good measure.

Well, as the A-zone deer season fades into memory, hog hunting in the area is picking up steam again.  I just got an email from regular reader and commenter, JR Young, about a great hunt he just had with his dad.  I’ll let JR tell it in his own words:

Phillip I thought I’d share my good fortune with the rest of the Hog Bloggers.  My wife and I recently had our first child so planning parental and other family visits has taken a fair amount of coordination.  However, my Dad’s visit took a little extra.  He lives in northern Idaho and while I really wanted to coordinate an elk camp this year with him and my brother it just wasn’t in the cards, so I thought planning a pig hunt while he was here would be the next best thing.  So I began looking at dates, the moon cycles and the ever important possibility of plentiful acorns on the ground.  A little over a year ago I booked a hunt with a guide who owns property near Pacheco Pass and had a great time so I had him set us up for this past Thursday night and Friday.
 
I haven’t hunted with my Dad in close to ten years since we both moved out of Washington so I was pretty damn excited to head out and chase some hogs.  We grab a license and tag for him, some snacks, water and hit the road.  We met our guide John at Casa de Fruta at 5pm and were quickly off to the property.  He filled out his paperwork and we were off.  I rode on a hay bale in the back of his truck while my Dad rode in the cab.  Right off the bat we were surrounded by blacktails who were pretty thick in the rut, I was wondering where they were three weeks ago.  After watching the blacktails chasing does we were on our way for real and not three minutes later into the drive we spotted a nice boar about 400 yards off feeding on acorns.  We drove up to the next bend in the rode and bailed out of the truck to stalk in on him.
 
As we got closer on foot and the bend opened up to the hillside he was on we found him obscured by the trees.  He was across a small ravine and a hillside sloping toward us.  As we watched his movement behind the oak trees we saw he was inching toward a small shooting window, my Dad took a knee and raised his rifle.  As the boar was on his quest for acorns he came closer and closer to the narrow window and finally presented himself.  Now I’ve only hunted pigs once before but the first thing I notice about them is that they rarely stand still.  With their nose leading them they are always moving.  My Dad wasted no time and squeezed the trigger as soon as there was a shot.  The 7 mag roared, the boar took a couple of hops and he was down, we’d only been out about 15 minutes.  It wasn’t much of a “hunt”, but it was a great shot, and a great looking boar. 

We got him cleaned up and back in the truck and we were off to see if we could fill my tag.  We kept following the road working out way up the canyon rim to an area that has a large spring that had been hosting several pigs before dark recently.   On our way up we spotted five hogs working their way down a spine of a ridge and we were sure they’d drop right down to us as there was watering hole in between us.  We jumped out of truck and worked our way towards them but another couple of deer had us busted.  They were focused on us and we were pinned to try and make a move.  The hogs never made it our way; we figured they dropped off the other side.  So we headed back to the truck to make it to the spring before dark as last light was approaching.  Nearing the spring we rounded a bend and had four hogs at 150 yards.  I jumped out of the truck, cranked up my scope and got myself a good rest.  I needed to wait for the hog I had chosen to clear the other and I squeezed off a round.  We heard her squeal, and watched the others bolt.  As we were near the spring (we were about 400 yards below it) the hills came alive with hogs scrambling as the sound of my 30-06.  Both my guide and I got distracted for a moment by the hogs running and came back to notice the pig I shot (or so I thought) running away.   “Is that my hog, is that her”, I said.

“Yeah,” said John, hit her again.”

I fired again but clearly missed and we watched her duck off into the trees.  We got on her trail through the tall grass which was clearly marked by the trampled stems but could not find any blood.   I couldn’t believe I missed, but there wasn’t a lick of blood.   As darkness arrived we planned to call it a night and see if we could find any indication that the hog was hit.
 
We headed down the hill, skinned my Dad’s boar under the headlights of the truck and got him ready for the butcher.  After we dropped him off at the butcher we headed home to San Jose, and awaited the 4:30am alarm clock.   In many ways I had hoped I missed on the first shot to avoid having a wounded animal.   I was a bit frustrated, as I had spent a lot of time at the range over the summer sighting in handloads that my Dad had been making for me.  Unfortunately most of that time was on the bench and I didn’t shoot much free hand, but I was pretty well anchored for the first shot.
 
The alarm clock came and the coffee flowed soon after and we were on our way once again.  This time the landowner and guide Wyatt was going to take us out.  He got a download from John the night before so we jumped in the truck and headed back to where I missed.   We confirmed that I had missed the pig as I must have pulled right over her back, or maybe grazing her neck fat causing her to squeal.  Either way, I missed her and that was a bummer.
 
Wyatt took us out to a point where we could see the entire valley and we glassed for several minutes.  The pigs were not out in force like the night before, but I spotted one about a 1,000 yards off and we made our way to him.  On our way we spotted a group of seven feeding in a small bowl on an open hillside and we were closing fast.  The road turned and we were out of sight as we closed the gap.  One final bend and a hillside in front of us Wyatt turned the truck off and we were on foot.   We crept around a little knoll on the open hillside just out of site of the group.  As we began to crest the top and coming into view we came down on our hands and knees and soon I was on my belly.  The group was about 60 yards away in a small depression allowing me to only see the top of their backs.  I inched my way forward on my belly fearing that I would be busted or they would stay in the depression.  Slowly they started to work their way toward me and two were in sight.  There was a calico in the mix but a nice small sow was standing broadside at 50 yards.  This time I had the 7 mag in my hands for fear of the 30-06 being out of zero.  I raised the rifle, let out a breath of air and squeezed the trigger; this time there was no doubt.  She made a bolt for it with the rest of the group but you could see she was hit hard and didn’t make it 100 yards.
 
We cleaned her up, skinned her and decided to pass on the butcher as she was small enough dressed out that I could manage.  I brought her home, carved out the backstraps and tender loins and boned out every thing else but the hind quarters.  I tossed those in a brine for 24 hours and smoked them today for 9 hours.   It was a great dinner tonight and a great time getting out hunting with my Dad again.   Elk season opens in Idaho today so I hope this was a sufficient trade off this year.   Next year we’ll have our elk camp, but for now I got to take my Dad to shoot his first pig, a welcome role reversal.  I even made a little video of my Dad getting his pig, even though I had a pretty crappy angle of his shot.
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0FfKLckb2k
 
Regards,
J.R. 

Nice work, fellas!  That’s a nice boar and a great way to spend some time with your dad!

Well, I guess you guys are dead set to prove the existence of the mythical blacktail buck.  My friend, David Watkins recently joined the Golden Ram Sportsmen’s Club with the hope of taking his first deer, and maybe some hogs.  This past weekend, the second weekend of B-zone general season, Dave was up near Covelo at the club’s Tyson-O’Farrell ranch property when everything came together.

Here’s how he tells it:

I was hunting on the Tyson/O’Ferrall ranch part of Golden Ram Sportsman’s Club in Bzone near Covelo.  The deer were not very active on opening day of rifle season.  But with all the rain we got that night the deer were moving on Sun morning.  Was walking through some thick stuff and as I came over a hill top I saw the butt of a deer running away from me.  So I circled around back down to the left and came up towards an open area that I could see something that did not look like a bush.  Looked through the binos saw that he had a nice fork on the right.  Took the 30-06 off my shoulder and took a real nice shot at 75 yards.  Got him right in the pump station.  First Buck and big game animal ever I was SO EXCITED!  Now I cant wait for the phone call from the butcher to pick up my steaks, sausage, and jerky!

Congrats, David!  That’s a great first buck, and here’s to many more over the years!

I intend to be out there next weekend for what will be my only weekend in the B-zone rifle season this year.  So much for all those plans I had to do a lot of deer hunting this year!  Where did the season go?

I didn’t get out this weekend, but it’s not for want of being there.  Sometimes it’s just not meant to be… but as they say at Burning Man, you don’t have to be there.  “The Man will burn without you!” 

So in lieu of my own hunting, I thought I’d do an update on one of my friend’s hunts.

Some of you may remember my last Mythical Blacktail Buck tale and my friend Saul’s report of success.  I finally got around to getting a photo of his animal and, as I expected, it turned out to be a trophy jackalope.  It’s a nice specimen, Saul, and you deserve to be proud of it… especially since you were hunting in Sonoma County.  With all that wine around, most folks down there can’t hit the broadside of the wine cellar.

(OK, seriously, an A-zone buck is always a good thing.  Judging by the last one I killed and ate at the Hedgepeth Ranch, this one should be great on the table.)