I've spent the better part of this year and the end of last year fighting with Yamaha over the lemon-of-an-outboard-motor that they sold me when I purchased my boat two and a half years ago. Fortunately, I have a six year warranty on it and the only thing these problems have been costing me, is time and aggravation! I guess this is as good an excuse as any for not posting to the site. Let's change that today.
Let's talk about my latest adventure; a free-range hog hunt in the Low Lands of South Carolina.
Y'all ("you all" for my family in Calif) are familiar with my love of bow hunting and you've read some about my annual hunts with my buddy George. Well, every time George and I get together for a hunt, we spend the evening hours after each hunt, eating way too much food while drinking a number of cold beers talking about how cool it would be to "do a hog hunt". This year, we finally put our full-bellied, half-lit talk to action.
It all started with an e-mail I received form George's wife Amy. In her e-mail she tells me that George's birthday was coming up and she wanted to surprise him with a paid hog hunt. Seems he wasn't only talking with me about the subject. She asked me if I could make it happen knowing I was a big part of the reason he wanted to do this in the first place. As most anyone would guess, I jumped on it. With both feet by-the-way!
Now, anyone that knows me well, knows that I don't run head first into big projects or purchases for that matter without doing a great deal of research. So, for the next month or so, I got to work looking up all the hunting outfitters in SC, NC and GA. This had to be an archery hog hunt since that's the only hunting tool George uses. Our hunt was also going to take place during their Turkey season, so I needed to find a place with land set aside exclusively for archery hunts. Through my research, I had the choices narrowed down to two outfitters in SC; Cypress Creek and Bangs Paradise Valley. Now for the hard part!
It just so happens that at the time of this hunt, the birthday boy, a Consultant for a local IT firm, was on assignment in Southern California. Yes, Calif. He fly's each week to LA and returns home to VA for the weekends. The tricky part was first to select a set of days that would work best with his schedule. The second problem, fortunately not one I had to resolve, was how he was going to get too and from the hunt between Calif and SC then back again. Here's what we came up with:
Our hunt was going to be for two days at Bangs Paradise Valley in Ehrhardt, SC (The Low Country). Because of his schedule, we selected a Friday / Saturday combination. We would arrive at the lodge in SC on Thursday afternoon and return Sunday morning. Logistically, this was tough. As it is, George lives 3 hours from my home in Chesapeake, Va. He had to drop off all his gear, including his bow, at my house a couple weeks before the planned hunt. The Plan: George found a flight out of Calif that would end, sooner or later, landing him at the regional airport in Fayetteville, NC. I would pack up my truck with all our gear and get on the road early Thursday morning, like 4am early! bound for Ehrhardt, SC with a 9:30am stop in Fayetteville to pick up George, assuming all his flights were on time. From there, we'd continue to the lodge. So many things could have gone wrong with this plan. However, none did! I arrived on schedule and so was his flight. Picked him up and off we went.
We pull into the hunting lodge around 3pm on a Thursday afternoon and after a bit of leg stretching, we were greeted by the owners son and as luck would have it, our guide for the next couple days, Tom Collins. Tom showed us to our room and told us to make ourselves at home. This was the middle of Turkey season for SC so Tom and his dad Bang Collins had a number of Turkey hunters in camp. Along with them was at least one camera crew filming turkey hunts for shows they were producing. After George and I spent some time making sure our bows were still dead on, we sat down to a wonderful southern home cooked meal while planning out our first hunt Friday morning, which couldn't come fast enough for me. George on the other hand, well, he decided to whoop it up some with our guide and a couple others in camp until 2 or 3 in the morning. Me, I hit the sack. O-dark-thirty comes pretty darn early around these parts.
Morning Hunt - Day 1
Before too long, our alarms were going off. After a quick shower, cup of coffee and gathering our gear, we were on the road with our guide being taken to our morning stands. I was dropped off first, next to an unfamiliar swamp, in the dark. Tom says, "About twenty yards down that path you'll come to a washed out walk bridge with an eight inch wide board in its place for crossing." "Be Careful!" he says, "as it might be a little slick if it's wet. Once across, follow the path back into the swamp a couple hundred yards until you see a limb hanging over the path." He goes on to say, "Go around the hanging limb another twenty yards and you'll see an orange survey tag hanging from a limb. Turn left and shine your light into the swamp and you'll see a couple reflective tacks." That was the location of my perch for the morning. I can only assume that George was going through the same instructions right about then. Later I found out that his was a little harder as he had to walk through ankle deep mud to get to his stand.
After climbing up into my stand and getting all my gear situated, I settled in waiting for the sun to rise and the swamp to revel itself. Up to that point, I had no idea what my surroundings looked like. As light began to filter through the trees, shapes began to reveal themselves. It was strangely beautiful. I had never seen swamps with palmetto bushes. It's surprising how soothing a swamp can be once darkness has lifted.
The first sounds of the morning came from Turkey's. I could hear a Gobbler, not too far away, responding to some hens clucking from their roost in a nearby tree. Then, as I turned to scan the swamp behind me, I see a very large bodied four legged creature walking at a deliberate pace past my stand, but out at least fifty yards. It was a hog, a big hog. Looked like it could have easily been 200 pounds. Not only too far away to shoot, but still too dark for a shot. It never slowed down and I never saw it again.
After that, I listened to the hens clucking and the gobblers answering back. I could only imagine the show Mr. Gobbler was putting on with his tail all fanned out looking like an Indian ceremonial headdress strutting back and forth waiting for his hens to arrive. At the same time, there must of been a hundred squirrels hanging around. This first morning, I had plenty of company, just no hogs.
After our morning hunt, our guide Tom picked us up and drove us back to camp where lunch, or more accurately, brunch would soon be ready. We arrived back at camp where a couple of the Turkey hunters were reliving their morning hunt and the camera man was going over the video he shot. If memory serves me, they had one Turkey down. After a wonderful brunch, most of the hunters retired to their rooms for a nap waiting for the heat of the day to cool before they head back out for the afternoon hunt. For George and I, well, my Droid phone crapped out and we had to take a drive into town for a replacement.
Upon our return, we did a little fishing in the camp pond, shot a few practice arrows at their 3-d targets and then, we too caught a few winks before our afternoon hunt in the swamp.
Afternoon Hunt - Day 1
Our guide insisted that the best place for us to hunt was right back where we were in the morning. He said these where the best stands where they were seeing the most daylight activity. So, back to the same stand sights that we were in from the morning. A few hours later, not unlike the morning hunt, the light departed the swamp without seeing any of them tasty Hogs we were there to kill. So, once the Turkeys were safe and sound, roosted in the nearby trees and the squirrels were in their treetop nests for the night, I made my way out of the swamp and back to the road where my guide and George were waiting.
At the end of day 1, I saw 1 Hog, a number of Turkey, too many squirrels to count and an Armadillo.
Morning Hunt - Day 2
Once again our guide believed the stands we were in the day before were still our best bet for seeing Hogs during daylight hours. Tom offered to move me to a different stand and send George to the one I'd been hunting from. I declined thinking it would be better to move George to a new stand as I had very little confidence in the stand I'd been in. After all, it was George's birthday present, not mine. I really did believe he'd have a much better chance elsewhere. So I went to the same stand for a third time.
This morning started much like the one before. Absent the large hog in the early morning light. Nope, it was quiet, except of course, for the Tom Turkeys gobbling, Hens clucking, squirrels arguing over food, Armadillos rooting around and the numerous variety's of birds calling. Other than that, it was quiet.
The morning came and went and I had decided to climb down from my stand around 9:30am to meet the guide back at the road and get some breakfast. However, I had to make a slight change to that plan after hearing what sounded like target shooting going on in the general direction I had to walk in order to get picked up. I decided to wait a little longer until I was pretty sure the guide had arrived. Little did I know at the time what an extra 10 minutes would mean.
At about 9:50am I gathered my gear feeling a bit dejected having not seen any hogs in an area obviously full of pig sign. I could only hope George's morning was going much better. So I reattached my quiver to my bow, hooked my pull line to it and lowered it to the ground in preparation for my decent. I turned to unscrew my bow hooks from the tree when all hell breaks loose. Coming through the swamp at a fast trot, were at least 10 hogs. They were heading right for my location. Now what the heck am I to do? Remember, I had already lowered my bow to the ground. Fortunately, the end of my pull line with my bow still attached, was in my hand.
By now these pigs were no more than 40 yards from me. I started to pull my bow back up as quickly and quietly as I could, stopping when they stopped, then pulling the bow up when they continued towards my location. Fortunately hogs don't have the best eyesight. At one point as I was pulling my bow up, I knocked it against the metal ladder stand. This made enough noise to make the entire group of hogs stop in their tracks. I thought I'd just blown it!
We all remained motionless, my bow hanging from a line half way down the ladder for what felt like minutes but in reality was nothing more than a few seconds. Then the lead hog let out a grunt and they continued on towards me. Well, most of them anyway. The larger black hogs decided the little noise they heard wasn't anything to take a chance on and they turned and headed back the way they came. The rest, thankfully, continued in stopping 30 yards in front of my stand to feed on some corn kernels.
This gave me an opportunity to recover my bow, calm down, knock an arrow and take aim. Once I got my breathing under control, I drew back my bow and selected what looked to be the largest hog. Just as I was getting ready to release my arrow, the hog turned facing me, effectively taking away my shot opportunity. Fortunately, the one next to him caught my eye and was just about to be in the perfect position for a shot. I took aim and released my arrow. Now I've shot a few Whitetail Deer with my bow over the years, but this was the first time that I actually saw my arrow impact the animal and come out the other side. Maybe it's just because hogs are so much shorter than deer, I don't know, but it was strange to see. I'm not sure why, but it was.
After the shot, the pig ran off into the swamp. The others scurried around unsure of what just happened and why their buddy ran off so quickly. I thought about knocking another arrow and picking off another hog but just a few seconds later, they all ran off in the direction of the hog I had just shot. Once I got my heart rate back to near normal, I lowered my gear and climbed down to assess the shot and look for a blood trail. Looking at my arrow, I knew I had made a good clean shot but for some reason, I couldn't find a drop of blood to track. I decided to back out and
meet up with my guide for help.As it was, he and George were already at the road waiting on me. I radioed them what had happened and they came in to help me track and recover my hog. Good thing too, while George and I went off looking for a blood trail, our guide was following hog tracks and reading sign. He clearly knew what he was doing. About 75 yards later he called me on the radio asking. "Bret, would you like me to bring your hog to you or would you rather come over here and see it where it lay?" I told him I'd be right there. I couldn't believe it, my first hog ever and with a bow no less!
Like most big game hunts, you have a lot of sitting and waiting. Then, out of nowhere, you go from darn near bored out of your mind, to a level of excitement generally only experienced by thrill seekers or near-death experiences. Let me explain:
One minute your sitting in a tree counting acorns, checking your email, day dreaming or killing ants or spiders that come too close to you. To, at the sound or sight of what possibly might be the animal you're after, your heart rate jumps to the point where you feel like it's going to push clean through your sternum. You're close to hyperventilating, and your shaking so much that, if not controlled, will keep you from ever making an ethical shot on your game. It's this brief adrenaline rush that hooks most hunters to the sport and keeps them on stand for long hours each day.
Back at the lodge, we take pictures, offer congratulations, then after lunch, begin to prepare for our final evening
hunt.
Evening Hunt - Day 2
Our guide had been holding out a stand site where he had been seeing a number of young hogs hanging around and decided to put George there for the evening hoping it would pay off and George would get a shot. After dropping George off, Tom took me to the place George had been in the morning.
This is the point where I give my full, unpaid and unsolicited endorsement for a mosquito repellent device called ThermaCell. I'm here to tell anyone who'll listen that this is a must have product if you ever hunt in warm swampy weather. Up to this point, I'd been lighting this little miracle product off before I even get out of the truck. However, this time, something went wrong. The unit, for whatever reason,
didn't light. As Tom drove off down the dirt path turning out of site, the mosquito's, seeing my ride was gone, POUNCED! OMG! Here I am swatting mosquito's while trying to figure out why I'm no longer protected. Looking down at the ThermaCell, I see it failed to light. I'm in the middle of the path, I haven't even stepped into the swamp yet. I'm swatting at the swarming skeeters with one hand while trying frantically to light the ThermaCell with my other. I thought I was going to die! Walking out wouldn't have helped. Surely they'd have had me on the ground long before I got to safety. My only chance was to get the ThermaCell lit.
Finally, the unit lit. A minute later, the blood-sucking bugs had, for the most part left. Wow! what was I saying about adrenalin?
Back to the hunt: Not more than an hour or two into the hunt, I feel my phone vibrate telling me of an incoming text message. It's from George and while I can't remember exactly the words he used, the message was clear.
he had just successfully taken a hog. Turns out, not only did he get his hog, he filmed it on his Flip video camera. How cool!That evening, after another great home cooked meal, we watched his video, watched some video from the Turkey hunts, drank a great deal of beer and congratulated ourselves for not only our first-ever hog hunt, but our first ever successful hog hunt! Bang and Tom Collins offered to let us hunt for free the next morning, paying only if we actually were lucky enough to kill another pig but it wasn't to be as we woke Sunday morning to thunder and lightning. It's never a good idea to sit high in a tree with carbon arrows in your hands.
I told Bang Collins when I was booking this hunt that George and I would measure the success of our hunt, not by the number of hog's we killed, but by the quality of the overall experience. I said. "If George and I are driving home after our hunt, talking about coming back and doing it again next year, That will be the measure of our success!"
Guess what George and I talked most about during our drive back to the Fayetteville Regional Airport Sunday morning?
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