Tejon was, as always, an absolute blast.  For those who’ve never hunted there, you don’t know what you’re missing.  For those of you in CA who can hunt there as residents but haven’t, there’s very little excuse.  You can do a weekend-long, self-guided hunt there for a little better than half the cost of an economy guided hunt.  It’s even cheaper than most self-guided hunts on private land.  And the quality of the habitat and the game is absolutely priceless.  Where else can you hunt hogs with a very high chance of success while crossing paths with California Hybrid deer (muley/blacktail), Rocky Mountain elk (some in the neighborhood of 400 inches), quail, turkeys, black bear, condors, bald eagles, coyotes, bobcats, and lord knows what-all?  This past weekend, I think the only thing we didn’t see was black bears… but they’re there.  It’s 277,000 acres of western outdoor paradise.

Here’s the kicker… that wasn’t a sales pitch.  I don’t work at Tejon, and I sure don’t get any kickback for sending folks their way.  The place is just that awesome. 

Anyway, my weekend went sort of like this:

Day 1, Friday:  I hit the field, bow in hand, at around 15:30.  Less than 20 minutes in, I heard the unmistakeable “huff” and grunting, followed by the sound of many short legged beasts trampling away in the other direction.  I stopped and checked the wind.  It was dead in my face.  Two steps later, it was blowing up the back of my neck.  Damn canyons.  That was as close as I got, and the end of my bowhunt.

Day 2: Saturday morning:  I put the bow in the cab of the truck and grabbed the Browning.  This is a rifle that has shot lights-out since the first time I laid it across the sandbags at the Oakland range.  It’s killed a fair number of animals in the short time I’ve owned it, and done so handily and usually with a single shot.  In .325 Winchester Short Magnum, it’s more gun than any North American hunter ever needs. 

I was late getting on the ridgetop, and things were looking bleak.  Then, from at least 2000 yards away, I spotted movement. Crossing the wide-open ridge was a single, huge, hog.  He topped the hill and dropped into the draw out of sight.  Judging by his direction, I was pretty sure he’d follow the sidehill trails and keep coming right to me.  All I had to do was wait.

It was nearly ten minutes later that he topped the next ridge, having dawdled his way across the canyon and up the other side.  He was still moving steadily though, and he dropped into the next canyon out of sight.  This kept up for at least 20 minutes.  Every time I almost gave up, he’d appear again, topping the ridge and keeping the general path… right to me.

Finally he started closing to realistic range.  I held the crosshairs on him at 400 yards, broadside, but kept my finger off the trigger.  I centered it on him again at 340 yards, but restrained myself.  At this range, I could tell which trail he was using.  It would cross within spitting distance of my solid rest on the rocks.  All I had to do was wait.

As he came down the last hillside, he slowed to an ambling walk.  At 215 yards, I couldn’t help myself anymore.  It was a bad call, a total breakdown of critical patience, but I laid the crosshairs a shade ahead of his nose, took a breath, and touched the trigger.  The bullet splashed into the dirt a few inches over his ear and the boar kicked it into high gear.  Rookie mistake by an experienced hunter.  But I still couldn’t believe I missed him.

Jump ahead an hour and a half.  I’ve decided to pack it over to a bedding area that has held pigs every single time I’ve hunted it.  It’s an ugly spot, which is why it’s seldom hunted (and why I hunt it).  I’m hiking in, not even close to the good stuff, when a shadow comes between me and the morning sun.   I flinch involuntarily, and then look up to see a calico boar running full out on a parallel course to my own.  I snap shoot without a thought, stupidly, and of course I miss. 

Strike two.

The boar disappears without another good opportunity and I continue down to the bedding areas.  As I do, I catch movement across the canyon.  Eight to ten pigs are scrambling up the opposite ridge.  I range them at 400 yards and moving out.  No way I’ll get a shot on these unless they turn and come back down.  They don’t.

I sit down to take a breather, and glass the opposite ridge.  At first there’s nothing, but then I pick up a black spot.  After a moment, I realize I’m looking at a huge pig bedded on the hillside.  I get the scope on it and notice small animals a few feet away.  I think it’s weird to see squirrels so close to a bedded pig.  Then I realize the “squirrels” are piglets.  It’s a wet sow… no shot.

I keep glassing for a few seconds before I realize that the clay-colored shape just below her is actually a red and black calico boar.  I range him at 266.  It’s a long poke, but completely realistic with the solid rest I’ve set up in front of me.  I take the time to stuff my ears with toilet paper (forgot to get my SportEars out of the truck), settle in on top of my pack frame, and control my breathing.  My finger inches toward the trigger. 

The boar stands up, leaving my crosshairs hovering over empty dirt, and goes to sniff at the sow.  She doesn’t like that and jumps up to chase him into the thicket.  They both disappear.  Damn!

The don’t leave the thicket, so I hold my position and wait.  And wait.  And wait.  Finally, I see movement at the top of the brush.  The boar steps out, stretches like a dog, and sprawls out on the ground.  There is no possible way he could expose more of his vitals to me.  I tuck the rifle into my shoulder, get a solid sight picture, check the area around the boar in case the piglets came back out (they didn’t), and put the crosshairs high on his shoulder.  At this range, I should hit right where I’m aiming, but this will allow for a little drop or drift. 

At the shot, the boar jumps to his feet and dives into the brush.  I’m sure I’ve hit him.

Getting across the ravine to the spot where the hogs were is no mean feat, but after some time and sweat I’m there.  Unfortunately, the hog is not there.  Neither is there any sign of a hit.  No blood.  No hair.  Plenty of tracks, but nothing stumbling or dragging.  I scour the thicket and the surrounding area, but nothing.  I’ve missed again.

At this point, I’m not having a very good day.  I’m having thoughts of Catalina, and really worrying.  Have I just lost my ability to make the shot?  One miss is bad enough, but understandable.  Three in a row?  Come on!

At Catalina, the problem was 100% with the trigger nut.  You know what a trigger nut is, right?  It’s the nut that pulls the trigger and makes the gun go boom.  Yeah.  It was all me. 

I was pretty sure this was the case on this hunt too.  The Browning had never let me down before.  Nevertheless, I drove back to camp, made a target out of a paper plate, and took it to a safe place to shoot.  Someone else had apparently decided this was a good place to shoot, and had set up a serviceable bench.  I set the target at 100 yards, settled in, and touched off the first round.  I couldn’t see a hole in the plate.  I fired another round, and the hole appeared several inches to the right and a couple of inches high.  I’d zeroed the rifle for dead-on at 100 yards. 

After a couple of adjustments, I was center-punching the target.  Unfortunately, the excercise left me with six rounds.  I briefly considered switching the 30-06, but I’m too stubborn for that.  I rolled back to camp, had a snack, and headed for “my” ridge. 

Just before dark, I looked across the canyon and saw a hunter slipping across the face of the hill where I’d missed the hogs earlier.  Across the draw from him, I saw a big pig, feeding in the open.  I thought to myself that this would make some great video and settled down with the camera.  Several minutes went by but the hunter never showed.  I decided he’d had his chance, and now I’d take mine.

I ran as hard as I could up the hill, then dropped off onto a finger ridge.  I managed to close the distance to 158 yards on the boar, still unaware.  He was big, but I didn’t think too hard about that at the moment.  I settled onto the ground and found a steady rest.  I waited until my breathing had settled down, put the crosshairs on him, and waited for him to put his head down to feed. 

At the shot, the boar started tumbling.  The steep hillside dropped away about 500 feet into the creek bed below, and I could hear the boar crashing like an out of control 18-wheeler all the way down, breaking through the scrub oak all the way down until I heard the splat of the boar in the creekbed.  Then everything was quiet.

The recovery was no fun.

While our group of nine guys saw a lot of hogs over the weekend, we only brought out four by the time we drove out of the gates on Sunday.  It was a disappointing outcome, but that’s how hunting can be.  Tejon can be a really tough hunt, but it’s always rewarding, and often educational. 

Here’s a little video of the event.  Consider it your reward for reading all of this!

It was a lovely weekend down there, with unusually nice weather for this time of year (clear with lows in the high 30s, highs in the mid 60s).  Pulling out of the gate yesterday afternoon, I felt that sharp, familiar twinge of regret and sadness that the visit was ended.  If I could have a little cabin situated right in the middle of that property, along with full hunting access, I think I could die ecstatic.   I wouldn’t need passage to Heaven, because I’d already have my cabin there. 

Anyway…

Were pigs killed this weekend?  Absolutely. 

Are there tales to tell?  For sure.  There might even be a little video. 

But good things come to those who wait.  And since I’m back in the office today, with a very full day of work ahead, if you want the Tejon tales, you’re gonna have to wait.

I’ve got the video camera as well as my regular still camera, so as long as the weather permits, I plan to have some photos and maybe even some video.  I should come back with pictures, even if I don’t bring home the bacon.  But my record at the ranch is pretty good, so while there’s no sure thing, I do have high hopes of putting one in the freezer.

I’m planning to start the weekend out with the Mathews Drenalin.  I missed a good boar there last year with the bow, before switching to the rifle to get the job done.  I’m hoping to make good on that shot this time, but if I don’t, the .325wsm will be riding backup in Petunia.

I even had a little time before the trip to warm up a little.  If I can shoot like this on a live target, this should be a very, very satisfying weekend. 

Hope to be bringing you a great tale on Monday!

Anyway, the flyer is below.  Summarized details are straight from Al’s site:

Hunter Education Instructor Association of Southern California is selling raffle tickets for a Guided Wild Pig Hunt on Tejon Ranch, CA. Tickets are $20.00 each, 6 for $100.00 & 13 for $200.00. Only 500 tickets will be available and the winning ticket will be drawn at their annual conference on March 12, 2011. 

 

To purchase tickets contact Derek Fong by emailing him at or you can call him at 661.733.1740.

 

There are no pictures… or at least none by me.  On Friday afternoon as I was motoring over to my jumping off place, I spotted four condors circling lazily over the road.  They were only a couple hundred feet up, so I reached behind the seat for the video camera.  I’d made sure to charge both batteries on Thursday, prior to hitting the road.  I charged up the Olympus and Sony still cameras too.   I haven’t taken any pix in a while, so I’d be sure to be ready for this trip.  These condors circling would make an awesome intro for the weekend’s hunting video. 

But the video camera wasn’t in it’s regular place.  Neither were the still cameras. An image flashed in my mind… the picture of three cameras sitting on the counter beside the front door of the house.  All charged up and no place to go. 

Cursing my forgetfulness, I went on and started tracking up the canyon.  I’d decided to stick with the bow for this hunt.  I really don’t need more pork in the freezer, and I’ve been itching to do a bowhunt for months.  It’s a hard row to hoe, using a bow on this part of the ranch, especially with limited time to get it done.  I could stand a challenge, and looked forward to the opportunity to focus my mind on something besides the crazy shit that’s been my daily reality the last month or two. 

It happens fast when you’re bowhunting… at least it does for me.  I fasten the release around my wrist and shoulder the Cat Quiver and start up the canyon.  My bow feels light and deadly in my hand, a comfortable change from the heft of a rifle.  Even in the mid-afternoon, the light is dim where the creek winds through the deep, rocky cleft.  The breeze is cool and moist, and blows back in my face. 

Within 50 yards of the truck, I feel predatory.  My eyes widen and my nostrils flare.  Every little sound races through my ears and to my brain, to be analyzed and relegated to a category… wind, water, animal-but-not-game.  I love the first hours of a hunt.  I’m stoked.  I’m not tired yet, my legs and back are strong, and every shadow and bend in the trail holds promise. 

After two hours of sidehilling along pig and cattle trails, I was still in full bowhunt mode, but the sweat was running and my lower back was feeling the strain.  I was still a long ways from the bedding area I had in mind, but decided to stop and relax for a few minutes.  I dropped the pack and sat down on the edge of a draw.  I settled up against a tree trunk for cover, and knocked back a bottle of water.  I was getting more comfortable, but from where I was sitting I really couldn’t see any of the hillsides around me.  I decided to get up and move to a spot where I could glass the canyon a little better.

I got to my feet and slung the pack over my shoulders.  As I bent to pick up my hat, I thought I heard something.  My ears flashed back to predator mode.  Up the draw to my right I could hear the unmistakeable shuffle of pig feet.  I peeked around the trunk of a downed oak and was shocked to see four bristled, black backs moving directly down the bottom of the draw.  I eased an arrow out of the bow quiver and nocked it. 

At the rate they were going, they would come out below me at the ideal range of about 15 yards.  I watched as the lead hog, a perfect little 100lb boar, stepped behind the tree.  When he came out, he’d be directly in the trail.  I drew the bow and took a breath.  That crazy exhileration washed over me, shortening my breath and making my pulse pound in my ears.  In my mind, the whole thing was playing out perfectly. 

Pigs suck!  They never do what they’re supposed to do.  In the brief seconds he was out of my sight, that damned little boar turned up the hill.  Instead of popping out in a textbook position below me, he’d come out less than five yards away!  I tried to turn slowly at full draw, but he saw me (how could he help it?) and went on high alert.  I had to twist a long ways to get on him, but as the pin drifted over the kill zone, I started squeezing on the release.  Just as I felt the arrow turn loose, the hog bolted.  The 100gr Slick-Trick broadhead barely missed the tip of the flying tail. 

That’s right.  Yet another hog has felt the whistling wind of death and lived to tell the tale. 

Son of a bitch.

OK, so while I certainly did spend a lot of time kicking myself in the butt for missing that pig, I know it was a tough shot.  And I was totally buzzing from the encounter.  Sometimes missing is almost as cool as making a good, clean shot. 

Speaking of missing…

My  plan when I rolled back into camp on Friday night was to make one more try on Saturday morning and then pack the camper, load Petunia, and head back to the Bay Area.  That way I’d get a little time with Kat before I bolted for two weeks.  I could sleep in on Sunday, enjoy a nice breakfast, and then have a leisurely wait at the Oakland airport.

Of course you probably already know how this turned out…

Saturday at first light, I made my way back up the same canyon.  I’d been up late, and didn’t get a lot of sleep, so I wasn’t quite as “into it” as I had been the evening before, but after a half hour or so on the trail, I was feeling pretty sharp.  I found tracks, and followed them up the hill into a thicket.  The green grass was freshly broken in a perfect trail, and I stayed on the track, moving slowly with all senses on high alert.  The area around the trail was littered with huge scat, both old and fresh.  The air was thick with the stink of boar musk.  I nocked an arrow and slowed my progress even more.

At one point, I thought I heard a grunt, but it was passing and quick and then I heard nothing.  I saw where the track had led to a dugout under an oak tree, but then the bent grass showed that something big had exited the dugout and continued uphill.  I think I got too close and blew him out, but that’s as close as I’d get on Saturday morning. 

At around 10:00, I rolled back into camp with every intention of packing camp, saying my good-byes, and hitting the road.  A few of the guys were already back, and as I got to talking to them, I realized that almost everyone on this trip was brand new, not only to Tejon Ranch, but to hog hunting altogether.  None of them had any idea of where to hunt, and several didn’t really know what to do if they actually did kill a hog.  Ordinarily, on one of these hunts, I’ve got a bunch of guys who know this place as well as I do, or better, and they can all kind of help out with the new guys.  Not this year. 

In addition to me, I had my friend Chris who’s been hunting out here as long as I have.  We’ve shot, shot at, and recovered a lot of pigs together.  Other than Chris, the only other hunter in the group who’s had any success at Tejon was Jason, and he had his father and a family friend on the hunt.  His hands were full.  I felt like it was kind of up to me and Chris to try to get these new guys on pigs, and didn’t want to just abandon them.  So I decided to hunt the evening, and then just drive home after dark. 

In addition to myself and Chris, there were five guys.  I decided we’d split up above my “honey hole”, while one guy walked the road out of the bottom.  The canyon would be completely covered when the pigs began to move.  This spot has never let me down, but I’ve never had quite this level of challenge before.  I was stoked.

The two guys who went with me were Clay and Oscar.  As we started down the trail from the vehicles, I asked if either of them had any experience field dressing big game.  Beyond some videos and a seminar by my friend Ron Gayer, neither had ever done it.  Clay told me he had never even been hunting before.  Oscar has been at it for a few years, but had yet to kill a hog.  I told them both that I had high confidence that we’d see hogs… but seeing them and killing them are often two very different things.

We set up on the end of a finger ridge with a pretty good view of the surrounding hillsides.  I have always seen hogs come out on these hillsides right before dark, and I was sure Chris and the guys with him would see some animals too.   As the shadows started to spread over the eastern side of the ridge, I fully expected to hear some gunshots.  Everything was just too perfect.

A little before  19:00, I was sitting on a rock glassing the distant ridges.  Where was all the shooting?  Where were the pigs?  I had sent Oscar downhill about 30 yards, to the other side of a thicket where he could see another part of the canyon.  Clay was sitting about 10 yards to my left.  Sunset was still almost an hour away, but the air was starting to chill and my shadow was beginning to merge with the shadow of the ridgeline above.  The pigs should show at any moment.

I heard it a few minutes earlier, but I dismissed the sound because it wasn’t coming from the place it should have been.  Every time I’ve watched the hogs come out on this hillside, they came from the beds about two-thirds of the way down the hill.  This sound was behind me… uphill.  It couldn’t be.  When I heard it again, it was closer and I turned to see a little black boar staring at me from less than 20 yards.  He turned and trotted over the edge of the ridge.  I called Clay and we jumped up to follow. 

I got there first, and about 60 yards down the hill I saw a group of several hogs.  There were at least two wet sows with little ones, but there were also several herd pigs.  There were a couple of cool-looking red boars that probably went 125 or 14olbs.  There were also a couple of black ones.  When Clay caught up to me, I pointed them out.  “Take the closest one,” I suggested. 

We were both standing and Clay had no rest.  I wanted to get a little closer so he could use an oak tree, but as we started moving, one of the wet sows looked right at us.  At the same time, a 150lb boar stepped up and turned broadside.  “Kill that one, Clay,” I said. 

It took a moment for him to steady the rifle, but he locked on and the rifle roared.  Through my binos, I saw the hog flop straight down.  It was a perfect shot!  The rest of the herd scattered, and we stood watching and getting our breath.  Just as I started to head down, one of the red boars ran back out. 

Without thinking about my actions, I raised the .325, leveled the crosshairs, and pulled the trigger.  Like I said before, I really didn’t need another hog.  I also realized, even as I shot, that if I killed a hog right now we’d be here all night getting mine and Clay’s dressed and packed out… not to mention that if Oscar also shot one, that would make it even tougher.  I also knew, in that logical part of my brain, that I wasn’t leading the running boar nearly enough.  But it was too late, and the gun boomed.

I saw dust behind the boar as he kicked it into high gear and took off down the ridge.  Part of me couldn’t believe I’d just missed, but I have to admit that a big part of me was glad I did.  I trailed the hog as far as I could, because it looked like I might have hit the ham.  I found a few drops of that rich, red, muscle blood over the two hundred yard trail, but then the tracks blended with the rest of the herd and were obliterated in the churn of hooves.  After replaying the shot several times in my head, and based on the muscle blood and lack of other indications, I decided that the hog wasn’t badly hit.

I went back up to help Clay get his hog broken down for packing out.  By the time we were done, I was really glad I hadn’t killed that red boar! 

Unfortunately, Oscar didn’t see a pig.  When they broke at Clay’s shot, they ran right below him, but the chaparral is so thick that he never got a look at them. 

We rolled back to camp, and I left the newly successful hunter to celebrate his kill while I broke camp and headed back to the Bay Area.  I rolled in and climbed into bed at 0430 or so… absolutely exhausted, but really wishing I were laying in my camper, waiting for blue light to get back out for one more attempt.

It’s actually a pretty good question, and as this year’s big trip looms (I’m hitting the road tomorrow night), I thought this was a good time to give it a go. 

First, we’ll dispense with the basics, Guns and Ammo, Optics, Gear, and Vehicles. 

Guns and Ammo: 

I’ve written about this before, but my recommendation is a centerfire rifle in .270 or larger.  Sure, a smaller rifle will kill hogs.  A rock will kill a hog.  But stepping up to something with the range, accuracy, and power of at least a .270Win gives the advantage of a versatile round that allows you to kill a large hog cleanly from powder-burn range to a couple hundred yards.  Especially at places like Tejon, where the terrain varies so widely, it’s good to be able to take the shot you’re presented instead of the shot you’d prefer (within reason, of course). 

You’ll need to be shooting lead-free ammo, so you’ll need to find the kind that shoots best in your personal rifle.  Options are currently, ETip, Barnes, Hornady GMX, Lapua Naturalis, and Remington Copper Solid.  I’ve been real happy so far with both the ETips and the Barnes TSX.  I’ve yet to try the others, however, I have seen good results from the Lapua.  Keep in mind that Tejon Ranch has a total ban on lead ammo, and you are not permitted to possess any on the property… period.  Make sure you clean your vehicle out before you arrive.

A lot of folks want to know about handguns.  I don’t recommend carrying a handgun as a “backup”, simply because it’s generally a lot of extra weight.  If you choose to do so, however, remember that it must be loaded with lead-free ammo even if it’s not your primary weapon.  I do keep my .44mag in the truck, particularly in case I decide to go hunt the bedding areas.  I also carry it if I’m called to help out on a bad blood trail.  But when I take the handgun, I generally leave the rifle behind.  There’s just not much need to carry both, in my opinion.

If you want to carry a handgun for primary, I recommend a .44mag orlarger.  Again, I’ve written about this at length elsewhere, but the bottom line is that it takes a lot of oomph and penetration to bring down a big hog.  Most of the semi-autos and such are designed for lighter rounds that don’t pack the foot-pounds you’ll need for a clean kill. For example, the .40 and .45acp are fine for finishing shots, but not recommended for big game hunting. 

Optics:

No western hunter should ever hit the field without a pair of quality binoculars.  Buy what you can afford, of course, but you won’t be sorry if you spring for the best you can manage.  I like at least a 10×40 (ten power with a 40mm objective), because that’s plenty of power to glass the shadows and draws, but it isn’t so powerful you can’t hold it steady without a tripod.  An 8-power glass is workable, but I wouldn’t bother with anything less.

You don’t need a spotting scope for this kind of hunting unless you’re specifically after trophy boars.  I’ve tried using one twice now, and it really was just more hassle than benefit. Binos worked just as well. There are plenty of good opportunities to use one though, if you feel the need.  There’s lots of open country and cross canyon vantage points.

Rangefinders can be helpful, although in general I think they’re over-rated for rifle hunters.  I have made good use of the rangefinder in my Leica GeoVid, especially with visiting hunters.  If you’re not used to estimating range in this canyon country, a measured distance can be good for the confidence.  Most folks tend to over-estimate anyway, but my rule is, if it seems “iffy”, then get closer or find another hog.  In my opinion, if it’s too far to hold dead on, then you don’t need to take the shot.  You can do better, especially at a place like Tejon Ranch.

Trail Gear:

Most of the hunting at a place like Tejon consists of spot and stalk.  You’ll seldom be more than a mile or so from the vehicle, so an extensive pack isn’t really a necessity.  When I leave the truck, I usually have about a liter or liter-and-a-half of water, a few trail bars, and some striking paper.  I also carry a signal whistle, two skinning knives and a sharpener (a hog is tough on a knife), a game bag or a couple of pillow cases, and several yards of parachute cord (550 cord).  There are also usually a few odds and ends, including some rudimentary first-aid stuff, but that’s the critical content.  All of this fits in a medium sized fanny pack, or in the tactical thigh packs I use.

While I never carry enough gear to fill a frame pack, I do carry one most of the time.  I have a tendency to drop my animals in some fairly inaccessible locations.  With a frame pack and some game bags, I can bone out a hog and lash it to the pack frame for a relatively easy recovery.  I never try to drag an animal, unless I’m really close to the vehicle.  An added benefit of the frame is that it makes carrying the little bit of gear I have a lot easier… I just lash the fanny pack to the frame. 

One other note on recovery… I always try to have several hundred yards of rope back at the vehicle.  In many cases, it’s possible to drop a long rope to your animal and let the vehicle do the heavy lifting to pull it out of a deep canyon.  You can never have too much rope.

Vehicles:

Tejon is a very accessible place, and can be hunted successfully from a two-wheel drive vehicle.  In fact, some very productive areas can be reached from the paved road.  There are several good roads, particularly when the weather is dry, so a regular pick-up truck or SUV can get around quite well.  I would recommend something with a little extra ground clearance for the dirt roads.  A decent, short-wheelbase, 4wd vehicle can access every road on the ranch in dry weather.  Some of the trails get pretty steep, and in places there’s some deep, dusty sand, so you’ll need the extra boost of a 4wd.  Long-bed pick-ups can get around pretty well too, but some roads get real tight and turning around can be a problem. 

When the weather is wet and snowy, however, it’s a different deal.  The high roads are often blocked by drifts, and the muddy lower roads can turn into real quagmires.  The clay and stone soil get slick as Vaseline, and will pack the treads of most off-road tires in no time.  In these cases, you’ll need a really good off-road vehicle combined with an experienced driver to access some areas… other areas should simply be considered inaccessible.  Get out and use the boot leather.

Recently, Tejon has started to allow the use of “side-by-sides” or UTVs, such as the Polaris or Kawasaki Mule.  These vehicles are useful and economical, but they generally don’t offer a lot of ground clearance.  An experienced driver can probably get them into some pretty tricky areas, but it’s also pretty easy to get yourself into a real bind. 

I recommend bringing along some self-extraction gear, such as a winch, hi-lift jack, come-along, and recovery straps or cables.  But even more importantly, bring along some common sense.  Every year the ranch has at least a couple of folks who end up going over the edge, and several more end up calling for the off-road wrecker service.  In at least a couple of cases, vehicles have had to be abandoned for several days until the weather permits an extraction. 

Oh, and the standard aphorism for driving at Tejon: “If the road starts looking really bad, stop and go back.  It will NOT get better around the bend.”

So what else? 

Lodging/Camping:

On most of the Tejon hunts, you have three basic lodging options. 

You can stay at a local motel (in Lebec, Grapevine, or other nearby places).  This puts you off the ranch, which means you have to drive in early to get in place for your hunt.  It’s comfortable, of course, to have a private room with real bathroom facilities and a maid service, but it’s also kind of inconvenient.

Another option is to camp, and this is what we usually do on our group hunts.  There are camping areas on both sides of the ranch (North and South).  I usually hunt the south side, and the camping area there is large and open, with plenty of room for a lot of hunters.  There are spots that are ideal for setting up a tent, and other places that you can park a full-sized RV.  There are no utilities or hook-ups, so camping will all have to be self-contained.  For larger groups, they usually put a port-a-potty or two in the campground.  The camping area on the north side is a little smaller, but it also accomodates anything from a pup tent to a 40′ motor home.  Open fires are generally not allowed during the drier months, and must be carefully controlled even when the weather is damp.  A portable fire ring, such as an old washing machine drum, is a great thing to pack if you want to sit by the fire after your hunting day is over. 

The final option is to book one of the cabins.  I forget how many cabins there are all together, but this is a great option for a smaller group of hunters (8-12).  The cabins range from rustic to quite comfortable, and rates are based on this.  The rustic cabins run $50/person for a weekend, while the nicer cabins will run $100/person.  It’s not a bad deal, but the cabins do book up pretty quickly.  Make reservations early.

Food and Supplies:

I always suggest that anyone coming out to the ranch be prepared and bring everything they need to be self-sufficient for the duration of the stay.  This includes ice, food, water, fuel, and anything else you may want to have in camp.  You’ll also need anything required to prepare the food, whether it’s a camp stove, charcoal or gas grill, or oven range and microwave.  None of this is available once you go through the gates.  However, the truth is, it’s a relatively short drive to Lebec or Grapevine where you can buy essentials if you run out. 

Clothing:

The weather at Tejon is often unpredictable, and it can swing drastically.  The ranch covers a lot of territory, and there is significant elevation change.  You can go from around 1000 feet elevation to over 6000 feet in a morning.  You may have snow and frigid wind on the summits, while the lower flats are dry and warm.  This is one of those places where they invented dressing in layers.  Also, even in the “dry season” of late spring/early summer, you can still get a nasty rain storm.  Be like a Boy Scout, and be prepared. 

Footwear should be solid and provide good support.  Fortunately, most hunting and hiking boots are perfectly acceptable.  Consider a high boot, however, especially in the warmer months when you’ll be dealing with foxtails and other spiky plants.  Rattlesnakes are also plentiful, and high boots offer a little more protection. 

Tactics:

Tejon lends itself best to spot and stalk hunting.  My favorite tactic is to find a high spot and glass like hell.  This is ideal at first and last light, but even in the mid-day hours it’s not unusual to catch a hog or two moving from bed to bed, or heading down for water.  It’s always easiest to move down on your prey, but keep the wind currents in mind.  In the morning, the currents are likely to be dipping down ahead of you, so never approach from dead over the animals.  Move away so you can approach from the side or below. 

Another tactic, and one that’s used by several of the guides at Tejon, is run and gun.  The idea is to drive from area to area, looking for pigs as you go and stopping occasionally to glass.  You’ll cover a lot of the ranch this way, but it seems to work well for the pros.  They do, however, have the added advantage of knowing the ranch really well so they can locate roads to get close to the animals. 

One last approach is to hunt the beds during the day.  Most hunters tend to end up back in camp within a few hours of sunrise.  It’s hard to kill a hog laying around your campsite.  Instead, get out on foot and get into the bedding areas.  Most of the denser canyons and draws hold pigs during the day, and it can be downright exciting to get up close and personal with them in their bedrooms.  This is an especially excellent method for archers, muzzleloaders, and handgun hunters. 

I’m sure there’s more I could get into here, but honestly, this is a lot more than I’d set out to write in the first place.  Have you hunted Tejon?  Have some ideas, tips, or recommendations?  Or do you have specific questions about the ranch?  Feel free to pile on in!

I hate Mondays, but this one is particularly dreary. I’ve been trying really hard to get re-motivated to everyday life, and honestly, I didn’t realize how much I’d set aside over the last couple of weeks. Now I’m trying hard to wrap my head around a new job, which involves revising training for a product I know very little about in a very short time. I’m taking over from a full-time employee who has gone out on maternity leave, and I was supposed to meet with her to get a “brain dump” two weeks ago. Unfortunately, two weeks ago I was in NC, and now she’s gone out on her leave without being able to meet with me. Talk about coming in cold.

Revising and updating a training program isn’t unlike remodeling an old house. You understand the mechanics of construction, but no two carpenters build something the same way… not to mention the fact that no house ever goes up exactly according to the architect’s plan. Little changes are made along the way to address variations in grade or mistakes in layout. The house may look like every other house on the outside, but when you start peeling off the sheetrock and siding, that minor upgrade can take on a whole new aspect.

The new gig also has me travelling a lot, right off the start, and that’s put a monkey wrench into other things, like guiding… not to mention catching up on the home front after my unplanned absence in NC. I’m feeling a bit off-balance, to be honest, and a foggy Monday morning isn’t helping at all.

What’s this got to do with hunting? Not really a damned thing. It’s simply my reality these days, and one excuse for letting the blog sit idle for so long… again. I’ve looked at it every day, but I simply haven’t been able to muster the energy to jump to the admin panel and click the “Add New Post” button.

I thought I’d do something yesterday about Mother’s Day. I mean, I’ve written a lot about my dad, but my mom has an equal place on the dais of my lifetime heroes. She’s an incredible lady, and that’s not just because I “have” to say that because I’m her son. It’s true. Her strength and resolve in the face of all sorts of challenges are an inspiration. She has always encouraged me to take my own path through life, even when that path deviated from the trail she’d have chosen for me. She supported me fully, even at times when I really deserved to be set adrift, and she’s always been there to help pick me up when I busted my butt… whether falling from a horse or falling from a bad life decision.

Her strength has never been more evident than during the last 14 years, as she’s cared for my dad. Always hopeful for positive change, she nevertheless stood fast through his decline. A lot of folks would have been completely justified to hand over that caregiving to a nursing facility years ago, but she tried her best to provide until it was, finally, physically impossible for her to handle him. The things she went through, and the toll it took… yet here she is, still the loving, positive person I’ve known my whole life.

So I tried to frame all of this in my head yesterday, but nothing sounded quite “right”, and none of it seemed to fit the Hallmark Card atmosphere of the “celebration” of Mother’s Day. Hopefully my phone call yesterday served the purpose.

But all is not doom and gloom, and there’s hunting on the horizon!

Thursday night, I’ll hit the road for Tejon Ranch and a long-awaited hunt with several folks from the hunting forums. As a first, I’ll be taking the 15 year-old son of a friend along as a junior hunter. Payton had the chance to tag along on a couple of deer hunts last fall and the bug bit him pretty good. He attended one of the California Waterfowl Association youth camps at Grizzly Island to get some basic training and earn his Hunter Safety card, and then ran right out to get a license. I got him out for pheasants a time or two, but I haven’t, unfortunately, had the time to spend with him at the range with the centerfire rifle. We’ll get a little trigger time prior to the hunt, though, and I expect he’ll do pretty well.

Following that hunt, it’ll be off to NC for two weeks of work in Raleigh. No hunting on that trip, but it will give me a chance to visit with family a little bit. I’ll try to keep things going while I’m there… I’m sure there’s some kind of hunting news, issues, or topics to occupy my downtime in the hotel room. 

What’s going on with all of you folks?  Chasing hogs?  Hunting turkeys?

After the previous weekend’s tough hunting at Tejon Ranch, with nine hunters coming away with only three hogs, I was a little concerned going into the past weekend’s hunt.  However, on this last hunt, there were a number of different factors involved.  

First, the weather turned cold and wet.  The beautiful, sunny days of the previous hunt quickly became pleasant memories when the rain and fog bored into the hills.  The persistent, icy rain turned the roads into sloppy goo and worked its way right through the best gear.  Even before the rain, the cold wind on Friday night nearly drove me off of my favorite ridgetop. 

The bright side is, the changing weather got the animals moving.  We started spotting pigs by 1130, right out of camp on Friday, and when the fog allowed any visibility at all, we continued to see hogs.  During the previous hunt, hogs were moving almost completely at night, leaving a frustrating amount of sign but heading back to their beds before first light.

The other big difference was the group of hunters on this trip.  The previous trip consisted of nine guys, only two of whom (myself and Ron Gayer) had any experience on the ranch.  Few of the others had much hog hunting experience, especially not in a place like Tejon. 

The group this weekend consisted of 12 guys, mostly long-time hog hunters who have been coming to Tejon for several years.  They came with “honey holes” already picked out.  They knew how to get to the good spots, how to hunt them, and in the end, it all paid off.  The group rolled out of the gates on the last day with a total of 10 hogs for 12 hunters.  Everyone had taken at least one shot (a couple of guys took more than one shot). 

For me, a big part of the pleasure this weekend was hunting with my friend, T. Michael Riddle from Native Hunt.  I’d told him for years about how much I loved hunting the Tejon Ranch, and he said he’d always wanted to get out there.  I think Michael quickly found that everything he’d heard about the place was true.  It’s simply a phenomenal piece of land, loaded with all the bounty and beauty Nature can provide. 

After a couple of false starts, we were able to hang both our tags on a couple of fat sows.  (I’ll write a little more about those false starts over on the Native Hunt blog.) 

And then there were pork chops, and there was much rejoicing!

I was told a very long time ago that there is no “sure thing”.  And I get it. 

Even so, when I head out to Tejon, I have a pretty high level of confidence that I can not only kill a hog myself, I can take several other hunters to hogs as well.  My track record there is pretty danged good. 

But the real clincher was that this weekend’s success wouldn’t just depend on my fortunes… former Tejon guide, Ron Gayer came along to join the fun.  Ron knows this place like almost no one else, and he was more than willing and happy to help out.   In addition to hunting some hogs, Ron was hoping to shoot some footage for his series of educational videos, called “The Guide’s Guide To Hunting.” 

And there was even more great news… the weather, always a major gamble in February, was as close to perfect as it could ever be.  With clear nights in the mid-thirties and sunny days with temps around 60, the snow melted off of the ridges and wet roads dried out.  (Many of the ranch roads can be absolutely terrifying when wet.)  It was no problem accessing my tried-and-true spots. 

Hog sign was everywhere.  Where the snow had recently receded, the fresh ground was shredded by rooting snouts.  There were cattle trails that looked like solid mosaics of hog tracks.  Scat littered the ground.  There were even places where we could smell the danged things!

So when I rolled out with Fabio and crew this past weekend, I felt pretty sure I’d have a stack of hog photos to put up today.  But, I guess it was not to be. 

It wasn’t for lack of trying.  We covered a lot of ground, both on foot and by vehicle.  We glassed high and low.  We pushed the bedding areas.  We hiked and sneaked and drove and even crawled a little bit…

And we did see a few hogs.  A few shots were fired.  A few hogs were scared.  But when all was said and done, the nine hunters in our group were only able to connect on three hogs.   All three were really good boars, but for a group this size, and with these conditions, I expected to easily come out with about 60% success.  It was probably the toughest hunt (for finding hogs) I’ve ever had at Tejon.  Ron was a little surprised as well. 

But that’s hunting.  We did have a great time, though, and that’s what counts. 

I’m heading back down this coming weekend for a little redemption.  T. Michael Riddle will be coming down with me, for his first visit to Tejon.  Yeah, I know, he’s got his own place with plenty of hogs, but the allure of a place like Tejon Ranch goes way beyond killing pigs.  After hearing me go on about it, he had to come out and see it for himself.

For anyone else who may want to get down to Tejon, I’ve got another hunt going in May.  This will be a much bigger group (25-50 hunters), but there is plenty of ranch to spread out.  Cost for the hunt is $450/per person (plus a $13 insurance policy), and each hunter will be allowed to take one hog.  Youth hunters (12-16) hunt for half-price.  This is an unguided hunt, but there are usually plenty of Tejon veterans willing to help out with strategy and suggestions for places to hunt. 

There is no lodging provided in this deal, but there’s a great camping area that’s suitable for everything from tents to motor homes (no hook-ups, though).  For those who don’t want to camp, there are a couple of motels a few minutes from the ranch. 

If you’re interested, and would like more details, shoot me an email.  Make sure you include the words Tejon Hunt in the subject line.

I’m heading out tomorrow afternoon, driving south to the Tejon Ranch.  I’ll be joining several friends, including Fabio (I’ve guided Fabio over at the Native Hunt ranches a time or two), and we’re planning to put the serious smack-down on some hogs.  I was particularly fortunate that my friend, Ron Gayer wants to join us on the hunt.  Ron’s video series, The Guide’s Guide to hunting, is going well, and he’s hoping to shoot some new video on this trip. 

Of course, it doesn’t hurt anything that Ron was also the Head Guide for the ranch for many years.  I’m looking forward to having him along.

I wish I had cooler stuff to write about right now, but work has been pretty intense lately and it’s taken its toll on the blog.  I’m happy to be busy, but at the same time I’m really glad to be getting back into the field.

Hang tight, and I’ll be posting up stories (and if the weather holds, video) of the hunt!