The chance of inclement weather this weekend was met by another landowner and
farmer requesting our service. As always we are willing to suit up the dogs and
load the trailer without hesitation. I woke up Saturday morning to a steady
drizzle of rain, but we were hunting no matter the weather. The closer Brian and
I got to Bud's house the thicker the rain became. We don't get alot of snow in
our part of N.C. so a flurry here is a pretty big deal.
We headed into Wadesboro to grab some breakfast and fuel up trying to
let the front pass before we hit the woods. As we were getting gas the farm
manager pulled in behind us and offered a Bojangles biscuit, his treat. Not
being the kind of guys to turn down a free breakfast we accepted his invitation,
fueled up, and headed to fill up our tanks. As we set there talking to Mr.
Jones it was pretty clear that the landowner was very serious about protecting
her land and the farmer's crops. Although this land is under lease by a
couple of different hunting clubs her lease agreement allows hunting by outside
parties if land or crop destruction occurs. This being said she called on the
Backwoods Hog Hunters to do what we do best and killing hogs is our forte. We
finished up breakfast and headed out. Mr. Jones and Jody were already at the
clubhouse so we unloaded the pack and hit the trail. Only a few hundred yards
from the club a fresh set of tracks crossed the red clay road. We quickly
unleashed the dogs and decided to follow these tracks on foot into the cutover.
With the snow still coming down hard we couldn't be far behind this group. Bud
and I proceeded through a small gulley and the first bark off the day rang out.
We had been here less than 10 minutes and they were on them already. We
continued to walk quietly up the hill and the distinct grunting of running hogs
headed straight at us. We froze in our tracks as three small pigs made their way
out of the danger zone and trotted towards the road. Only a few yards in front
of us a single dog started to bay, but before we could get there the pursuit
was on again. Just a couple of minutes later they had number 28 for the year
caught and we were on the move. A 125 lb boar had almost made it into the
clubhouse yard but was unable to get through the woven wire fence. Quickly this
hog was put down and we sent the dogs to find the rest of the group.
The track was still hot and it didn't take long for a couple of dogs to head towards the
river bottoms. We pulled to the other side of the hill and the Garmins showed
that we had dogs strung all over the property. Fifteen minutes or so had passed
before Zoey's unmistakable bay barks pierced the snow filed air. She had pushed
one over 800 yards from the group, probably back to his bedding area, and had
him locked down. We had picked up a few dogs on the way to the field and we
were able to get them to listen for her. Once they figured out what was going on
they headed to her. We headed around the small set out pines hoping that she
could hold him until help arrived. Our road ended about 350 yards from her
location and as we killed the engines she was still holding strong. Her back up
had not yet arrived so we remained patient. It was evident after a couple of
minutes that a couple of the dogs had made the journey and the barking
immediately turned into a fight. We tore through the briars and waist high pine
trees and were within 75 feet of them when the hog got loose. It didn't take
long for him to be corralled again and this time he was done. We offered Mr.
Jones the opportunity to take this one and eventhough he was a bit hestant he
performed flawlessly. Another nice boar with a white chest and four white feet.
He had put up a pretty good fight as a couple of dogs showed signs of some
pretty sharp teeth. With nothing more than a couple of small cuts and scrapes
Bud headed to get this old boy his final ride out of these woods.
We had managed to get soaking wet in our pursuits of the morning and
couldn't have been far from frost bite when we headed back to the club for a
warm wood stove and a bowl of salmon stew. The rain continued to fall as we
stood in this ancient farm house drying out and refilling out bellies. This
old house was full of old logging tools and pictures. It was a part of history
that most of us had only seen from the outside. A couple of hours passed as we
talked with a few members of this hunting club. They were very welcoming to us
hunting hogs on their property, and understand that these animals are
destructive, not only to the property that they reside on, but can ruin the
habitat of our native species. It seems that more and more people are starting
to understand what we have to offer and most are more than willing to give us
permission.
farmer requesting our service. As always we are willing to suit up the dogs and
load the trailer without hesitation. I woke up Saturday morning to a steady
drizzle of rain, but we were hunting no matter the weather. The closer Brian and
I got to Bud's house the thicker the rain became. We don't get alot of snow in
our part of N.C. so a flurry here is a pretty big deal.
We headed into Wadesboro to grab some breakfast and fuel up trying to
let the front pass before we hit the woods. As we were getting gas the farm
manager pulled in behind us and offered a Bojangles biscuit, his treat. Not
being the kind of guys to turn down a free breakfast we accepted his invitation,
fueled up, and headed to fill up our tanks. As we set there talking to Mr.
Jones it was pretty clear that the landowner was very serious about protecting
her land and the farmer's crops. Although this land is under lease by a
couple of different hunting clubs her lease agreement allows hunting by outside
parties if land or crop destruction occurs. This being said she called on the
Backwoods Hog Hunters to do what we do best and killing hogs is our forte. We
finished up breakfast and headed out. Mr. Jones and Jody were already at the
clubhouse so we unloaded the pack and hit the trail. Only a few hundred yards
from the club a fresh set of tracks crossed the red clay road. We quickly
unleashed the dogs and decided to follow these tracks on foot into the cutover.
With the snow still coming down hard we couldn't be far behind this group. Bud
and I proceeded through a small gulley and the first bark off the day rang out.
We had been here less than 10 minutes and they were on them already. We
continued to walk quietly up the hill and the distinct grunting of running hogs
headed straight at us. We froze in our tracks as three small pigs made their way
out of the danger zone and trotted towards the road. Only a few yards in front
of us a single dog started to bay, but before we could get there the pursuit
was on again. Just a couple of minutes later they had number 28 for the year
caught and we were on the move. A 125 lb boar had almost made it into the
clubhouse yard but was unable to get through the woven wire fence. Quickly this
hog was put down and we sent the dogs to find the rest of the group.
The track was still hot and it didn't take long for a couple of dogs to head towards the
river bottoms. We pulled to the other side of the hill and the Garmins showed
that we had dogs strung all over the property. Fifteen minutes or so had passed
before Zoey's unmistakable bay barks pierced the snow filed air. She had pushed
one over 800 yards from the group, probably back to his bedding area, and had
him locked down. We had picked up a few dogs on the way to the field and we
were able to get them to listen for her. Once they figured out what was going on
they headed to her. We headed around the small set out pines hoping that she
could hold him until help arrived. Our road ended about 350 yards from her
location and as we killed the engines she was still holding strong. Her back up
had not yet arrived so we remained patient. It was evident after a couple of
minutes that a couple of the dogs had made the journey and the barking
immediately turned into a fight. We tore through the briars and waist high pine
trees and were within 75 feet of them when the hog got loose. It didn't take
long for him to be corralled again and this time he was done. We offered Mr.
Jones the opportunity to take this one and eventhough he was a bit hestant he
performed flawlessly. Another nice boar with a white chest and four white feet.
He had put up a pretty good fight as a couple of dogs showed signs of some
pretty sharp teeth. With nothing more than a couple of small cuts and scrapes
Bud headed to get this old boy his final ride out of these woods.
We had managed to get soaking wet in our pursuits of the morning and
couldn't have been far from frost bite when we headed back to the club for a
warm wood stove and a bowl of salmon stew. The rain continued to fall as we
stood in this ancient farm house drying out and refilling out bellies. This
old house was full of old logging tools and pictures. It was a part of history
that most of us had only seen from the outside. A couple of hours passed as we
talked with a few members of this hunting club. They were very welcoming to us
hunting hogs on their property, and understand that these animals are
destructive, not only to the property that they reside on, but can ruin the
habitat of our native species. It seems that more and more people are starting
to understand what we have to offer and most are more than willing to give us
permission.
| 
|
RSS Feed
