This weekend my 8 year old son Dane and I headed west to hunt deer and pigs in the brush country of Frio County. While I’ve enjoyed a successful hunt this year, taking 2 deer during a previous weekend including a nice buck, this trip was centered on getting Dane a pig so that he can move up the ranks to Deer Hunter on the lease. The rules of the lease require that kids and new bowhunters start by taking a pig or javelina, then a doe, a cull buck and so forth. You can’t move up the hierarchy until you’ve accomplished the feats in order. Dane started pig hunting last year without success. This season, he hit a javelina that left a blood trail which faded in the brush, resulting in a non-recovery. The kid has been chomping at the bit to get back down and get the “monkey” off his back.
We made it into camp close to bed time on Friday. With rain spraying down and a forecast for more on Saturday, we hit the rack for our early wake-up.
With George Strait crooning through the speakers of the truck, we eased through the ranch in the inky darkness to blind #10. GJ Hafernick had hunted there the night before and he felt like the pigs would be automatic at this stand. After pulling off the #10 sendero and parking, we sloshed through the mud to get to the box blind. Once inside, we spread out the gear we needed for the hunt and got ready for daylight. As we sat there in near total darkness, I couldn’t help but sense his excitement to be “where the pigs are”. I patted him on the head several times and rubbed his back as we waited quietly, happy to have one-on-one time with my boy.
As daylight began to reveal the brush around us, the feeder began to appear. Around 7:30, when we could see fairly clearly, I saw movement near the feeder. Pigs began to cautiously filter underneath the Hang ‘em High feeder set up on the edge of the sendero. I told Dane we had company and he rose from his lower chair to peak out the window. A snaggle-toothed grin stretched across his face as he turned to me and asked if he could shoot.
We propped the AR15 in the window and got everything situated for the shot. Being that the feeder is 105 yards from this blind, I was a bit concerned about him making the shot at this distance, with excitement coursing through him. He has done well at this distance at the range, but everyone knows a live animal throws a kink into your best laid plans. Dane steadied the gun and I pulled his earmuff away from his head to tell him to take his time and shoot when ready. Seconds later, the gun fired and pigs scattered. I watched through the binoculars hoping to see that one had been hit. As far as I could tell, they got away unscathed. We sat a while longer before walking to the feeder to look for signs that he had connected. Nothing. A quick scan of the road, feeder and brush revealed that he had missed on this attempt. It didn’t really faze him like I expected. He showed a little frustration but I assured him we’d get another chance.
Once back in camp, we enjoyed breakfast while others shared stories of their hunt. Cody Wetz suggested we go to #33 because of the shorter distance to the feeder from the stand and the fact that he had been surrounded by pigs that morning while bowhunting there. I thought it was a good idea, but Dane would not hear of it. He said there were pigs and 10 and that’s where we should go.
Rain continued to pelt the roofs as we relaxed around camp, visiting with all the other hunters. Around 3:00, we decided it was time to slip and slide out to the stand for the evening hunt. GJ had suggested that we corn from the feeder towards the box blind so the hogs might work their way closer to us. He and Matt Stolle headed out before us so they could use Matt’s tailgate feeder to paint a trail of corn for us. When we pulled up, they were leaving. GJ mentioned a good management buck was there when they got there and that I should pop him if he showed.
Dane and I got positioned in the blind and began a game of Angry Birds on my phone. While we sat their quietly, a couple of young deer strolled in to enjoy our corn trail. At 4:30, I looked towards the feeder to see the black forms of pigs moving under the feeder. Dane took a look and we both agreed to just sit quietly until we were certain they were going to feed closer. They spooked in and out several times before vanishing completely. Later in the hunt, while a monster buck chased a doe up the hillside a couple hundred yards in front of us, a group of pigs crossed the sendero hurriedly. We got ready and began making a plan in case they came our way. With a little back and forth, a group finally hit our corn trail at about 90 yards and began working up the road in our direction. When the lead pig reached a point about 60 yards from us, Dane whispered “I’m tired of waiting”. I told him to shoot and then hit record on the video camera. Before I could get the pigs clear in the viewfinder, the AR15 screamed and pigs bolted for the brush. I sat somewhat dejected thinking we had another miss on our hands. We took our muffs off and chatted a bit about the shot. He said he held it on the shoulder and thought it would have hit the pig. I hit play on the camcorder to see if I caught anything. The video is virtually useless, but, the audio recorded the definite “whop” that one usually hears when a bullet meets its mark. The thought occurred to me that that thud may have been bullet hitting the mud beyond the pigs, but I just wasn’t sure. We exited the blind and headed down the muddy sendero to the point where the pigs had last fed. Clear hoof marks showed where the pigs pushed the mud away to flee. I checked the distance back to the blind quickly and figured this had to be the spot. No blood, no hair, nothing. I then walked to the brush and picked up a couple of possible trails where they might have left the sendero. In the foggy light of dusk, I used my flashlight to peer into the brush. Almost immediately, I saw the reflecting moisture on the back of something furry. It was his pig! I stopped him from looking around on the ground and told him his pig was laying in the trail in front of him. Though he later admitted he thought I was joking, he eased through the mesquites on the trail to the pig laying 10 yards in the brush. Man, were we excited. Well, I was excited. Dane’s a very “calculating” kid and while I know he was excited, he didn’t fist pump and holler like his Dad. However, the gapped grin on his little face told me all I needed to know. He’d done it!
We hugged, high-fived, bumped fists, and then dragged the pig to the road.
Once we had the pig in the sendero, we agreed it would best to go get the truck and drive back down to retrieve the pig and all the gear in the blind. I turned to walk up the road and made only a couple of steps before I realized I was not being followed. I turned around and he was just staring at me, grinning widely with his cap pushing his ears down and out in typical little kid fashion. I said “well come on” and he snapped out of his trance and caught up. I wish I could read what he was thinking during that instance, but I guess I’ll never know.
With the pig loaded, we headed back to camp where we were greeted with high fives from the likes of Trey Powers, GJ, Matt and even hugs from Mary and the other gals in camp. He was proud. Due to the rain coming down, I convinced him we’d wait until morning to get some pictures. We positioned the pig in a pose and left him on the cool concrete of the cleaning rack.
The next morning, we headed to the Dump Blind hoping to meet up with a doe, now that his first hurdle had been cleared. While we had one at the feeder too early to shoot, we saw no other slick heads. We did get to enjoy a couple of very nice young bucks before climbing down to pack our stuff for the long ride home.
Before we left, we got the pictures we wanted of the pig.
Next season we will be concentrating on getting a doe and then whatever other deer we can find. In the meantime, he’s still mad at the hogs and we’ll do our best in the off-season to hone our shooting skills.
Thanks again to Chacha and Mark Rothwell for inviting us to hunt the CDLC. My family is fortunate to get to spend time there harassing the animals that need harassing.
We made it into camp close to bed time on Friday. With rain spraying down and a forecast for more on Saturday, we hit the rack for our early wake-up.
With George Strait crooning through the speakers of the truck, we eased through the ranch in the inky darkness to blind #10. GJ Hafernick had hunted there the night before and he felt like the pigs would be automatic at this stand. After pulling off the #10 sendero and parking, we sloshed through the mud to get to the box blind. Once inside, we spread out the gear we needed for the hunt and got ready for daylight. As we sat there in near total darkness, I couldn’t help but sense his excitement to be “where the pigs are”. I patted him on the head several times and rubbed his back as we waited quietly, happy to have one-on-one time with my boy.
As daylight began to reveal the brush around us, the feeder began to appear. Around 7:30, when we could see fairly clearly, I saw movement near the feeder. Pigs began to cautiously filter underneath the Hang ‘em High feeder set up on the edge of the sendero. I told Dane we had company and he rose from his lower chair to peak out the window. A snaggle-toothed grin stretched across his face as he turned to me and asked if he could shoot.
We propped the AR15 in the window and got everything situated for the shot. Being that the feeder is 105 yards from this blind, I was a bit concerned about him making the shot at this distance, with excitement coursing through him. He has done well at this distance at the range, but everyone knows a live animal throws a kink into your best laid plans. Dane steadied the gun and I pulled his earmuff away from his head to tell him to take his time and shoot when ready. Seconds later, the gun fired and pigs scattered. I watched through the binoculars hoping to see that one had been hit. As far as I could tell, they got away unscathed. We sat a while longer before walking to the feeder to look for signs that he had connected. Nothing. A quick scan of the road, feeder and brush revealed that he had missed on this attempt. It didn’t really faze him like I expected. He showed a little frustration but I assured him we’d get another chance.
Once back in camp, we enjoyed breakfast while others shared stories of their hunt. Cody Wetz suggested we go to #33 because of the shorter distance to the feeder from the stand and the fact that he had been surrounded by pigs that morning while bowhunting there. I thought it was a good idea, but Dane would not hear of it. He said there were pigs and 10 and that’s where we should go.
Rain continued to pelt the roofs as we relaxed around camp, visiting with all the other hunters. Around 3:00, we decided it was time to slip and slide out to the stand for the evening hunt. GJ had suggested that we corn from the feeder towards the box blind so the hogs might work their way closer to us. He and Matt Stolle headed out before us so they could use Matt’s tailgate feeder to paint a trail of corn for us. When we pulled up, they were leaving. GJ mentioned a good management buck was there when they got there and that I should pop him if he showed.
Dane and I got positioned in the blind and began a game of Angry Birds on my phone. While we sat their quietly, a couple of young deer strolled in to enjoy our corn trail. At 4:30, I looked towards the feeder to see the black forms of pigs moving under the feeder. Dane took a look and we both agreed to just sit quietly until we were certain they were going to feed closer. They spooked in and out several times before vanishing completely. Later in the hunt, while a monster buck chased a doe up the hillside a couple hundred yards in front of us, a group of pigs crossed the sendero hurriedly. We got ready and began making a plan in case they came our way. With a little back and forth, a group finally hit our corn trail at about 90 yards and began working up the road in our direction. When the lead pig reached a point about 60 yards from us, Dane whispered “I’m tired of waiting”. I told him to shoot and then hit record on the video camera. Before I could get the pigs clear in the viewfinder, the AR15 screamed and pigs bolted for the brush. I sat somewhat dejected thinking we had another miss on our hands. We took our muffs off and chatted a bit about the shot. He said he held it on the shoulder and thought it would have hit the pig. I hit play on the camcorder to see if I caught anything. The video is virtually useless, but, the audio recorded the definite “whop” that one usually hears when a bullet meets its mark. The thought occurred to me that that thud may have been bullet hitting the mud beyond the pigs, but I just wasn’t sure. We exited the blind and headed down the muddy sendero to the point where the pigs had last fed. Clear hoof marks showed where the pigs pushed the mud away to flee. I checked the distance back to the blind quickly and figured this had to be the spot. No blood, no hair, nothing. I then walked to the brush and picked up a couple of possible trails where they might have left the sendero. In the foggy light of dusk, I used my flashlight to peer into the brush. Almost immediately, I saw the reflecting moisture on the back of something furry. It was his pig! I stopped him from looking around on the ground and told him his pig was laying in the trail in front of him. Though he later admitted he thought I was joking, he eased through the mesquites on the trail to the pig laying 10 yards in the brush. Man, were we excited. Well, I was excited. Dane’s a very “calculating” kid and while I know he was excited, he didn’t fist pump and holler like his Dad. However, the gapped grin on his little face told me all I needed to know. He’d done it!
We hugged, high-fived, bumped fists, and then dragged the pig to the road.
Once we had the pig in the sendero, we agreed it would best to go get the truck and drive back down to retrieve the pig and all the gear in the blind. I turned to walk up the road and made only a couple of steps before I realized I was not being followed. I turned around and he was just staring at me, grinning widely with his cap pushing his ears down and out in typical little kid fashion. I said “well come on” and he snapped out of his trance and caught up. I wish I could read what he was thinking during that instance, but I guess I’ll never know.
With the pig loaded, we headed back to camp where we were greeted with high fives from the likes of Trey Powers, GJ, Matt and even hugs from Mary and the other gals in camp. He was proud. Due to the rain coming down, I convinced him we’d wait until morning to get some pictures. We positioned the pig in a pose and left him on the cool concrete of the cleaning rack.
The next morning, we headed to the Dump Blind hoping to meet up with a doe, now that his first hurdle had been cleared. While we had one at the feeder too early to shoot, we saw no other slick heads. We did get to enjoy a couple of very nice young bucks before climbing down to pack our stuff for the long ride home.
Before we left, we got the pictures we wanted of the pig.
Next season we will be concentrating on getting a doe and then whatever other deer we can find. In the meantime, he’s still mad at the hogs and we’ll do our best in the off-season to hone our shooting skills.
Thanks again to Chacha and Mark Rothwell for inviting us to hunt the CDLC. My family is fortunate to get to spend time there harassing the animals that need harassing.
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