I've been blessed to have some great experiences chasing hogs over the years, and the past 2 years I've been fortunate enough to consistently put some big fellas on the ground. What happened last week though, it was special, and I know will likely never happen again. Three weeks before I had decided to start shooting a hinge, and that went pretty well at TX and OK TACs. Given that I was ready to unleash it on a hog. This is a long read, but hopefully a few people enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it up.
I had a late afternoon conference call that was scheduled to go for a few hours. Well, I might as well be headed South to the lease while I listen and talk, so I headed down 35 just after lunch. I pulled into camp a little before 5pm, and since I was early enough I decided to set feeders to throw extra when they threw later that evening. This tends to keep lone boars in the area longer, giving me more time to make my stalk once I realize they are there. The first feeder was a quick endeavor as I was able to swing into an alternate gate on the property, walk 200 yards, connect to the feeder wifi and adjust. One down. After that task was complete I went back out to the county road and went down to camp.
After making sure the air conditioning was blasting, I immediately jumped in the golf cart to go adjust my second feeder on that property. It was hot and humid, and I was thankful I wasn't jogging to do this (yes that's happened in the past due to weather, mud, etc). I parked the cart about 200 yards from the feeder, and speed walked to the area. Out of habit, I checked my phone, and dang it there was a pig on that feeder. He looked like he was probably bedded nearby, and just doing a spot check hoping there was extra corn. I was in street clothes, and my bow was in my truck back in camp. Dang it. Well, time to make some lemonade. I snuck just close enough to connect to the feeder's Wifi, and had it manually throw a nice long spin. While the feeder was still spinning, I turned heels and hurried back to the cart. As fast as I could I got back to camp, unpacked enough to get to my bow and hunting pack, and headed back toward the feeder. Sweat was already rolling. While the cart was rolling along, I checked my phone, the boar was already on the feeder, ecstatic with his unexpected early dinner. I was concerned with it being broad daylight and me being in light colored clothing trying to blend into the dark cedars. I did my best to stay in the darker shadows. Fortunately when I eased into range the pig was out of immediate line of sight. This let me back into a dark spot and wait for the pig to work his way back into the open. A short while later he turned broadside and started feeding right to left. The bow came back effortlessly to the stops, and I found my anchor. The pig had stopped moving, and turned his head my way. He saw something, but with his head down he wasn't sure what it was. I adjusted my right hand till I heard the hinge click. The boar was staring me down, and I knew the stare down wouldn't last long before he decided it was no longer safe. I told myself, you can't affect what he does, just execute the shot, pull! There was the slight metallic click in my ear as the hinge broke and the arrow tipped with an Evolution Hyde sped across the 22 yards to its target. I was aiming center shoulder, but my brain registered a hit back and low. In the next few seconds I lost track of where the boar had gone, I then realized he was standing directly behind the feeder about 30 yards out. I reached for another arrow, nocked it, and slid my sight to 30. All I could see was the tip of his snout. Just as I was ready to come to full draw and take a step to the side for a clear shot, he gathered himself and shuffled through the cedars. I didn't feel great about the shot, given what my brain registered as the hit. I gave it a minute or two and crept to where he was stanidng. There covered in almost orangish blood was my arrow. It didn't smell bad, but it didn't look great either. There is a mud hole about 100 yards away, and I bet myself if he was gut hit he would makes his way there, lie down, and expire. It was hot, but that spot was in great shade... I'd wait till after dark.
Arriving back in camp, I decided given it was still so early, I'd head over to the other nearby property. There was a sounder that had been swinging by around 6pm on a feeder over there, and if I hustled I could get in position before they showed up. More sweat was generated as I got the trailer hooked up, cart loaded, a few things unpacked, and Bowie settled in the cabin. Then I was off like a herd of turtles. It was about 6pm when I parked the cart a few hundred yards from the set and headed at a slow jog for the feeder. About halfway there, I noticed some dark shapes mingling with the cows about a hundred yards North of where I was headed. My binos and rangefinder were still in the truck... I had expected to be sitting in one spot where I know all the yardagaes, and I had been in a hurry. Those really short looking black cows were pigs. I was able to find some cover and start working my way side wind toward them. It wasn't long before I was out of cover. Having just spent the previous two weekends sending arrows at targets I often couldn't even see all of and at crazy ranges, I took my best guess on distance to the closest pig. 60 yards. By the end of the TX TAC I would have considered that a gimme. A second Evolution Hyde was nocked up. As I came to full draw the pig start moving quite a bit, and I did my best to track it as I settled into anchor and found the click on the hinge. I gently started pulling, and the pig quartered to me and stepped behind some light brush/tall weeds. I could still see the top of its back. Once again... hey this feels just like a shot from TAC. I just kept pulling letting the pin float where I though the pig's neck was given the angle. Once again the familar ring of the hinge breaking was shortly followed by a solid thump. I didn't miss, that's cool. The pig peeled out headed for the treeline, and I lost it right as it made it to the shadows. I knelt down and caught my breath for a mintue, before quietly walking to where the pig had been standing. My arrow was laying there, soaked in good looking blood end to end. It also had a nasty smell. That made sense to me given the angle. As I'm kneeling there in the grass, a boar darts out into the grass in front of me, he looks kinda ******. I fumble for an arrow, and to get my release hooked up. *******, he saw that, and trotted behind some brush. I gave him my best pig oink, and tried to get turned so I'd have a shot if he gave me one. He started trotting at angle, I came to full draw, and swung pin to his shoulder. Unconsciously the hinge clicked, but he had stopped behind another tree, and when he left it was with the after burners lit. Oh well, so close. Since I was so near the feeder, I thought I'd go sit there for a little bit, have it throw and see if I could pull any strays of the sounder in. That plan did not work, and after about 5 minutes I told msyelf I should take advantage of the daylight and go look for this pig. Following the tree line I went to the last place I saw the pig... oh lookie there... a dead pig. She had made it about 50 yards. The arrow had entered the neck and exited the abdomen about half way back.
Just after I got finished tying the sow to the back of the golf cart I get a camera notification. There is a decent sized boar on the opposite end of the property. I become a comical version of Andretti crossed with Austin Powers as I will the golf cart down the two tracks ducking limbs and steering clear of deep ruts as I go. About 400 yards from where I'm going I jump a group of a dozen pigs. Dang wish I had been going slower and seen them first. Anyways, I have an important date a little further on. The cart comes to a stop, and I hit the ground running... literally. I slow down about 150 yards from the set, and peek around a corner, yep he's still there. Having checked the wind, and glanced at On X I pick a route and slip into the brush. A few minutes later, I'm within 20 yards, and the boar has no clue I'm there. The only downside is... I'm close... closer than I'd like. If he's on my side of the feeder clearing he's going to be in the 10 yard range. The boar is out of line of sight, and I'm poised and waiting. He steps out into my line of sight feeding left to right at a good clip. The second I see his nose, I'm drawing, and by the time he's in full view I'm at anchor and finding his shoulder. I know he isn't ever going to stop moving, so I just let my pin keep pace with his shoulder, and pull. This time the arrow is tipped with a very very sharp VPA Omega single bevel, and it zips through the boar's shoulder like butter. On impact the boar spins in a circle snapping his jaws. He has no clue what bit him, but he wants to scare it off. After two spins, he rockets off, but I see him topple just out of sight about 50 yards away. No reason to wait this time, I walk up and pick up the bright red soaked arrow and slide it back into my quiver. A short walk later I'm looking down at a healthy boar, and starting to wonder how I'm getting him on the golf cart.
I'm now driving the cart by reaching over the boar in the floorboard to work the accelerator with my toes essentially. Awkward, but doable for the couple minutes back to the truck. Phone buzzes.... the sounder I had busted up earlier is on a feeder. Zoom zoom. Somehow I manage to get there in time to get a stalk in and in position for shot before they vacuum all the corn up. The issue is there's a dang cow about 6 or 7 yards in front of me. The cows on this property are wild as all get out, and will bust and go nuts everytime they see a person. The cow is staring at me. At this point, I'm more worried about the cow than the pigs. Better shoot fast. I come to full draw as there is a pig on the near side of the pen broadside. The cow isn't a fan, it quickly turns to face me and is in a cow version of high alert. Great. The pig is walking right to left, and I put my pin on the shoulder and start pulling... I realize I'm running out of real estate as the pig is headed for the corner of the pen and I'm going to have more wire and a tpost to deal with very soon. The release breaks, the cow bucks and bounds off, and I see sparks fly.... the barbed wire forming the pen and my broadhead have met each other. There is also a sickening hollow thump. The pigs scatter like billiard balls on a break. Once the area clears I walk over to look for blood and my arrow. No blood. My arrow is 20 yards past the pen and looks clean. Guess I missed, I pick the arrow up, and it's not dry, so I give it a sniff.... not a miss. I also know looking at the arrow, I am not recovering that pig. Now, I'm also out of arrows with fresh broadheads. Time to pack it up and head back to camp.
As I drive through the dark chugging salt water, I can't help but think of how the evening has gone. About a mile from the camp gate my phone buzzes. There's a boar on that very first feeder I swung by a few hours earlier. Once again I make for that gate, and upon arrival, I turn off the headlights and ease the truck through the gate off the road. Next, as quietly as possible, I drop the tail gate, retrieve 2 arrows from my arrow tube, and 2 more broadheads from my broadhead box. With my ammo replenished, I head off through the dark to see if I can get a shot on this boar. About half way there I take a wrong turn, and almost walk out upwind of the set, but catch myself and quickly shuffle backwards. This was the first time I had utilized the stalking trail I had cleared a month earlier, and it looked different in the dark. As I got closer I heard a squeal... it was no longer a party of 1. Closing the final distance through the trees, I fished out my feeder light remote and clicked it to medium, and a bit later, up to high. Rounding the corner to my shooting lane, I could see two boars. One was up under the feeder, and the other was on my side picking off the further out corn. The one under the feeder looked a little bigger, but the near one was a whopping 15 yards away, sorry about your bad luck buddy. For the 5th time that day the PSE Mach 30 smoothly came to full draw, and my palm relaxed while my middle and ring fingers hooked onto my release. Pull.... The boar suddenly turns almost directly away from me. Lightning decision... heck even a better angle, I let the pin settle just in front of his nearside hip and shrug my back, SMACK. There's a streak of lighted nock headed into the trees, then it u-turns and I see it for a few more yards, then I think I hear something fall over. My only concern is I could clearly see the back of the arrow sticking out of the rear flank, but at that angle it should be pretty good. I'm tired, and I don't even bother much with blood. I switch to a white headlight and walk to where pig was standing, nothing. I circle to where it went through the first line of trees, nothing. There's two trails leading out of the area, and a fair number of pigs die running down them. I pick one and start slowly walking while scanning the ground. As I enter a small clearing, the boar is stone cold dead in the middle of it. Upon closer inspection the G5 Deadmeat had glanced off the femur, and then penetrated another 20" through the boar. That'll do. I'm exhausted, this sucker isn't tiny, how am I getting this loaded. I drug the 50 yard or so to a clearing I could get something motorized into. Upon returning to the truck, I decided that I didn't feel like unloading the other two pigs off the back of the trailer, then the golf cart, then loading everything back up. Laziness drove me to slowly and painstakingly back the trailer down the alley of a clearing in the dark. It took a few minutes, but I got the back of the trailer within 5 yards of the pig.
Back in camp I remembered I wasn't done. I still had that first pig to go find. The darkness and cooled the air, and so I grabbed my tracking lead, and coaxed Bowie into the golf cart. My elderly companion had not been able to do any tracking since November due to becoming deathly ill and losing 30 pounds. He has since recovered, and while he's pretty weak, he's healthy enough for a night time track. The golf cart rolled to a stop a few feet from the feeder, and Bowie bailed a second later. I took him to the place I had seen the boar enter the cedars and told him "go find him". His nose hit the grass and he took a few steps, turned off to the side for a few steps, then came back and took a straight line. About 10 seconds later he's standing over a very very dead pig. Turns out that pig only went about 30 yards, I just didn't see or hear him go down. Bowie looked up at me confused as to why the track is so short. The arrow had entered at the elbow on the near side, and exited low and back. Evidently my brain only registered seeing the arrow exit. Thankfully I was able to get the golf cart right up next to the pig and swing him up on the deck.
It was a late night. By the time I peeled backstraps and some other meat, hauled off carcasses and cleaned up a little it was 2am. What an evening. In retrospect, no issues hunting with a hinge
I had a late afternoon conference call that was scheduled to go for a few hours. Well, I might as well be headed South to the lease while I listen and talk, so I headed down 35 just after lunch. I pulled into camp a little before 5pm, and since I was early enough I decided to set feeders to throw extra when they threw later that evening. This tends to keep lone boars in the area longer, giving me more time to make my stalk once I realize they are there. The first feeder was a quick endeavor as I was able to swing into an alternate gate on the property, walk 200 yards, connect to the feeder wifi and adjust. One down. After that task was complete I went back out to the county road and went down to camp.
After making sure the air conditioning was blasting, I immediately jumped in the golf cart to go adjust my second feeder on that property. It was hot and humid, and I was thankful I wasn't jogging to do this (yes that's happened in the past due to weather, mud, etc). I parked the cart about 200 yards from the feeder, and speed walked to the area. Out of habit, I checked my phone, and dang it there was a pig on that feeder. He looked like he was probably bedded nearby, and just doing a spot check hoping there was extra corn. I was in street clothes, and my bow was in my truck back in camp. Dang it. Well, time to make some lemonade. I snuck just close enough to connect to the feeder's Wifi, and had it manually throw a nice long spin. While the feeder was still spinning, I turned heels and hurried back to the cart. As fast as I could I got back to camp, unpacked enough to get to my bow and hunting pack, and headed back toward the feeder. Sweat was already rolling. While the cart was rolling along, I checked my phone, the boar was already on the feeder, ecstatic with his unexpected early dinner. I was concerned with it being broad daylight and me being in light colored clothing trying to blend into the dark cedars. I did my best to stay in the darker shadows. Fortunately when I eased into range the pig was out of immediate line of sight. This let me back into a dark spot and wait for the pig to work his way back into the open. A short while later he turned broadside and started feeding right to left. The bow came back effortlessly to the stops, and I found my anchor. The pig had stopped moving, and turned his head my way. He saw something, but with his head down he wasn't sure what it was. I adjusted my right hand till I heard the hinge click. The boar was staring me down, and I knew the stare down wouldn't last long before he decided it was no longer safe. I told myself, you can't affect what he does, just execute the shot, pull! There was the slight metallic click in my ear as the hinge broke and the arrow tipped with an Evolution Hyde sped across the 22 yards to its target. I was aiming center shoulder, but my brain registered a hit back and low. In the next few seconds I lost track of where the boar had gone, I then realized he was standing directly behind the feeder about 30 yards out. I reached for another arrow, nocked it, and slid my sight to 30. All I could see was the tip of his snout. Just as I was ready to come to full draw and take a step to the side for a clear shot, he gathered himself and shuffled through the cedars. I didn't feel great about the shot, given what my brain registered as the hit. I gave it a minute or two and crept to where he was stanidng. There covered in almost orangish blood was my arrow. It didn't smell bad, but it didn't look great either. There is a mud hole about 100 yards away, and I bet myself if he was gut hit he would makes his way there, lie down, and expire. It was hot, but that spot was in great shade... I'd wait till after dark.
Arriving back in camp, I decided given it was still so early, I'd head over to the other nearby property. There was a sounder that had been swinging by around 6pm on a feeder over there, and if I hustled I could get in position before they showed up. More sweat was generated as I got the trailer hooked up, cart loaded, a few things unpacked, and Bowie settled in the cabin. Then I was off like a herd of turtles. It was about 6pm when I parked the cart a few hundred yards from the set and headed at a slow jog for the feeder. About halfway there, I noticed some dark shapes mingling with the cows about a hundred yards North of where I was headed. My binos and rangefinder were still in the truck... I had expected to be sitting in one spot where I know all the yardagaes, and I had been in a hurry. Those really short looking black cows were pigs. I was able to find some cover and start working my way side wind toward them. It wasn't long before I was out of cover. Having just spent the previous two weekends sending arrows at targets I often couldn't even see all of and at crazy ranges, I took my best guess on distance to the closest pig. 60 yards. By the end of the TX TAC I would have considered that a gimme. A second Evolution Hyde was nocked up. As I came to full draw the pig start moving quite a bit, and I did my best to track it as I settled into anchor and found the click on the hinge. I gently started pulling, and the pig quartered to me and stepped behind some light brush/tall weeds. I could still see the top of its back. Once again... hey this feels just like a shot from TAC. I just kept pulling letting the pin float where I though the pig's neck was given the angle. Once again the familar ring of the hinge breaking was shortly followed by a solid thump. I didn't miss, that's cool. The pig peeled out headed for the treeline, and I lost it right as it made it to the shadows. I knelt down and caught my breath for a mintue, before quietly walking to where the pig had been standing. My arrow was laying there, soaked in good looking blood end to end. It also had a nasty smell. That made sense to me given the angle. As I'm kneeling there in the grass, a boar darts out into the grass in front of me, he looks kinda ******. I fumble for an arrow, and to get my release hooked up. *******, he saw that, and trotted behind some brush. I gave him my best pig oink, and tried to get turned so I'd have a shot if he gave me one. He started trotting at angle, I came to full draw, and swung pin to his shoulder. Unconsciously the hinge clicked, but he had stopped behind another tree, and when he left it was with the after burners lit. Oh well, so close. Since I was so near the feeder, I thought I'd go sit there for a little bit, have it throw and see if I could pull any strays of the sounder in. That plan did not work, and after about 5 minutes I told msyelf I should take advantage of the daylight and go look for this pig. Following the tree line I went to the last place I saw the pig... oh lookie there... a dead pig. She had made it about 50 yards. The arrow had entered the neck and exited the abdomen about half way back.
Just after I got finished tying the sow to the back of the golf cart I get a camera notification. There is a decent sized boar on the opposite end of the property. I become a comical version of Andretti crossed with Austin Powers as I will the golf cart down the two tracks ducking limbs and steering clear of deep ruts as I go. About 400 yards from where I'm going I jump a group of a dozen pigs. Dang wish I had been going slower and seen them first. Anyways, I have an important date a little further on. The cart comes to a stop, and I hit the ground running... literally. I slow down about 150 yards from the set, and peek around a corner, yep he's still there. Having checked the wind, and glanced at On X I pick a route and slip into the brush. A few minutes later, I'm within 20 yards, and the boar has no clue I'm there. The only downside is... I'm close... closer than I'd like. If he's on my side of the feeder clearing he's going to be in the 10 yard range. The boar is out of line of sight, and I'm poised and waiting. He steps out into my line of sight feeding left to right at a good clip. The second I see his nose, I'm drawing, and by the time he's in full view I'm at anchor and finding his shoulder. I know he isn't ever going to stop moving, so I just let my pin keep pace with his shoulder, and pull. This time the arrow is tipped with a very very sharp VPA Omega single bevel, and it zips through the boar's shoulder like butter. On impact the boar spins in a circle snapping his jaws. He has no clue what bit him, but he wants to scare it off. After two spins, he rockets off, but I see him topple just out of sight about 50 yards away. No reason to wait this time, I walk up and pick up the bright red soaked arrow and slide it back into my quiver. A short walk later I'm looking down at a healthy boar, and starting to wonder how I'm getting him on the golf cart.
I'm now driving the cart by reaching over the boar in the floorboard to work the accelerator with my toes essentially. Awkward, but doable for the couple minutes back to the truck. Phone buzzes.... the sounder I had busted up earlier is on a feeder. Zoom zoom. Somehow I manage to get there in time to get a stalk in and in position for shot before they vacuum all the corn up. The issue is there's a dang cow about 6 or 7 yards in front of me. The cows on this property are wild as all get out, and will bust and go nuts everytime they see a person. The cow is staring at me. At this point, I'm more worried about the cow than the pigs. Better shoot fast. I come to full draw as there is a pig on the near side of the pen broadside. The cow isn't a fan, it quickly turns to face me and is in a cow version of high alert. Great. The pig is walking right to left, and I put my pin on the shoulder and start pulling... I realize I'm running out of real estate as the pig is headed for the corner of the pen and I'm going to have more wire and a tpost to deal with very soon. The release breaks, the cow bucks and bounds off, and I see sparks fly.... the barbed wire forming the pen and my broadhead have met each other. There is also a sickening hollow thump. The pigs scatter like billiard balls on a break. Once the area clears I walk over to look for blood and my arrow. No blood. My arrow is 20 yards past the pen and looks clean. Guess I missed, I pick the arrow up, and it's not dry, so I give it a sniff.... not a miss. I also know looking at the arrow, I am not recovering that pig. Now, I'm also out of arrows with fresh broadheads. Time to pack it up and head back to camp.
As I drive through the dark chugging salt water, I can't help but think of how the evening has gone. About a mile from the camp gate my phone buzzes. There's a boar on that very first feeder I swung by a few hours earlier. Once again I make for that gate, and upon arrival, I turn off the headlights and ease the truck through the gate off the road. Next, as quietly as possible, I drop the tail gate, retrieve 2 arrows from my arrow tube, and 2 more broadheads from my broadhead box. With my ammo replenished, I head off through the dark to see if I can get a shot on this boar. About half way there I take a wrong turn, and almost walk out upwind of the set, but catch myself and quickly shuffle backwards. This was the first time I had utilized the stalking trail I had cleared a month earlier, and it looked different in the dark. As I got closer I heard a squeal... it was no longer a party of 1. Closing the final distance through the trees, I fished out my feeder light remote and clicked it to medium, and a bit later, up to high. Rounding the corner to my shooting lane, I could see two boars. One was up under the feeder, and the other was on my side picking off the further out corn. The one under the feeder looked a little bigger, but the near one was a whopping 15 yards away, sorry about your bad luck buddy. For the 5th time that day the PSE Mach 30 smoothly came to full draw, and my palm relaxed while my middle and ring fingers hooked onto my release. Pull.... The boar suddenly turns almost directly away from me. Lightning decision... heck even a better angle, I let the pin settle just in front of his nearside hip and shrug my back, SMACK. There's a streak of lighted nock headed into the trees, then it u-turns and I see it for a few more yards, then I think I hear something fall over. My only concern is I could clearly see the back of the arrow sticking out of the rear flank, but at that angle it should be pretty good. I'm tired, and I don't even bother much with blood. I switch to a white headlight and walk to where pig was standing, nothing. I circle to where it went through the first line of trees, nothing. There's two trails leading out of the area, and a fair number of pigs die running down them. I pick one and start slowly walking while scanning the ground. As I enter a small clearing, the boar is stone cold dead in the middle of it. Upon closer inspection the G5 Deadmeat had glanced off the femur, and then penetrated another 20" through the boar. That'll do. I'm exhausted, this sucker isn't tiny, how am I getting this loaded. I drug the 50 yard or so to a clearing I could get something motorized into. Upon returning to the truck, I decided that I didn't feel like unloading the other two pigs off the back of the trailer, then the golf cart, then loading everything back up. Laziness drove me to slowly and painstakingly back the trailer down the alley of a clearing in the dark. It took a few minutes, but I got the back of the trailer within 5 yards of the pig.
Back in camp I remembered I wasn't done. I still had that first pig to go find. The darkness and cooled the air, and so I grabbed my tracking lead, and coaxed Bowie into the golf cart. My elderly companion had not been able to do any tracking since November due to becoming deathly ill and losing 30 pounds. He has since recovered, and while he's pretty weak, he's healthy enough for a night time track. The golf cart rolled to a stop a few feet from the feeder, and Bowie bailed a second later. I took him to the place I had seen the boar enter the cedars and told him "go find him". His nose hit the grass and he took a few steps, turned off to the side for a few steps, then came back and took a straight line. About 10 seconds later he's standing over a very very dead pig. Turns out that pig only went about 30 yards, I just didn't see or hear him go down. Bowie looked up at me confused as to why the track is so short. The arrow had entered at the elbow on the near side, and exited low and back. Evidently my brain only registered seeing the arrow exit. Thankfully I was able to get the golf cart right up next to the pig and swing him up on the deck.
It was a late night. By the time I peeled backstraps and some other meat, hauled off carcasses and cleaned up a little it was 2am. What an evening. In retrospect, no issues hunting with a hinge
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