2025 Hog Hunt Day 5 - Recovery and Redemption

I was up early and read the entire internet.  It was a good morning, and the down time was nice.

Around 8:00 I said goodbye to Gary and went with Rick to feed stands.  We chatted as we went along.  At one point I commented that I had lots of pictures of hogs down on January 16 in previous years so I was sure someone was going to get one.  Then we came to the Carol Astor stand.  Something in the road just didn't look quite right.  Rick came to a standstill, "Is that your hog?"

"It has to be!"

It was.  I had a sinking feeling.  The hog was still quite alive, but not moving well.  

Rick backed the truck up.  Unfortunately, Rick's pistol was not in the truck since Will had used it to go to school.  "We have to do something..."  We talked a bit about what to do.  Rick dropped me off and was going to "haul ass" back to the lodge.  I was to keep tabs on the wounded hog.

I hated seeing the hog.  The last thing I wanted to do - the last thing any sportsman wants to do - is cause any animal to suffer.  My heart was in my stomach.

Rick left and I carefully moved to just where I could see it.  It got up a few times, but was in no mood to move far.  It was quite pissed off.  After what seemed like forever, Rick was back and texted me to come get the rifle.  I would have preferred to just walk down the road to sneak up on it, but Rick said to go through the pines.  I had a hard time seeing the hog but finally got into the right spot.  I fired.  Rick was on the road and walked toward the hog.  The hog was still moving.  There were a few moments that were a bit more exciting than they should have been and the hog was down for good.

With the morning's excitement done, we loaded the hog and headed back to the lodge.  We dropped it off to go get Will's truck and some Hardee's.  I don't eat much fast food, but it was good.

Back at the lodge, Rick cleaned the hog; it was a nice eater of about 125 pounds.  The larger hog I saw on the first night must have been another hog (my memory also sees it as blacker).  There were still stands to finish up on, but Rick was going to do those while we were hunting.

Paul had come into camp and we only had a bit of time to get ready to head out for the afternoon.

I was dropped off on the weird lighting stand.  I liked the blind, even if it did lose light quickly.  

I had some time to think after getting into my stand.  I felt bad for the hog, even if I was glad that I got one and also glad that we were successfully able to end it.  I thought back to my deer hunt were I was a bit judgey of Mike's neighbor.  I reserved the harshest judgement for myself.

I distracted myself with my phone and saw on Reddit that David Lynch had died.  This brought me back to 2017 when I recreated the route from the movie The Straight Story on my motorcycle.  David Lynch's movies, even when I didn't understand them (I'm looking at you Mulholland Drive), were visual poetry.  His Netflix movie What Did Jack Do? was hilarious.  Twin Peaks was an amazing TV show when I was in high school (at least the first season was) - I had to clandestinely watch it since my high school friends made fun of the "weirdos" who watched it.

It was a nice afternoon with warm temperatures but very windy.  I was glad I was in an enclosed blind.  The first two hours passed slowly until several does started coming and going from the corn pile.  They were around for about an hour until they bolted away.  

I was wondering if this meant that pigs were coming in, but I guess it was the bucks turn as 6-7 of them wandered in and out of the lane.  One was a decent shooter and at least one other should be really nice by fall.  

Darkness came early with deer still hanging around.  I carefully and quietly worked my way out.

Paul had seen only deer.  Claude had shot a big stinky boar and a sow.  Denis hadn't seen anything.  Rick cleaned the sow and let it hang overnight.

I went to sleep, still a little conflicted.

2025 Hog Hunt Day 4 - Pandora's Hunt

I was putzing around online after getting up and saw something on Reddit about Pandora and it got me thinking that "hope" in the context of Pandora's Jar is not something positive; it is just as evil as everything else that escapes when she opens the jar.  It keeps people going when there is no realistic chance of success.  It promotes inaction by people who assume everything will work out.  It forces people to hold out for a better future that may never arrive.  Hope is hunting.  

But hunting is what I was in South Carolina for.

Gary was going to meet some cousins for breakfast, so Rick and I went to get Will after he dropped his truck off for repair.  After a stop at Hardee's, we all fed stands.  A few weren't hit, but as usual, most where.

I had some down time at the lodge so I took another walk down to the river.  Soon enough it was time to head out.  We stopped by Denis' house; Denis and Claude drove their own vehicle in case they were still contagious.

I was dropped off at the Sea of Pines stand.  The trees had grown up a phenomenal amount over the previous two years.  It was still pretty and a comfortable stand.

Temperatures were cooler than the previous day, but it was still very sunny with only light breeze.  It was a nice afternoon which was good since there was not much moving other than deer.  I kept hoping something more interesting would pop out, but it was an uneventful afternoon.

No one had seen any pigs, it was deer all around.  I went to bed hoping one of my final nights might turn things around.

2025 Hog Hunt Day 3 - Chicken Hunt

I beat myself up pretty much all night about the previous evening's mistake.  I slept some, but it wasn't a good sleep.  It can be painfully hard being an overthinker.

A picture of my first dog came up on my Google Photos when I grabbed my phone.  This sent me into a bit of a tailspin as I remembered her and remembered what things were like then.  It is easy to look at the past with rose-colored glasses or think that things were simpler then (the most definitely were not).  But it often seems like we spend the first part of our lives filling up an existential bank account, only to have to start taking from it later.  When that happens isn't obvious at the time; looking back it is possible, in the right frame of mind, to see where that wave may have crested and started to roll away.

Morning blessedly came with lodge coffee.  Then it was off to feed stands.  Most had been picked clean - including the stand from my miss.  So the hogs weren't totally scared off (right?).

Back at the lodge I took a quick walk down to the river.  It felt good to be moving again and get the blood flowing again.  The day was brilliantly clear and the walk in warmed me - body and soul.  The river is way down from where it was in the fall during deer season.

After a quick bite to eat, we headed out for pigs again.  Rick dropped me off at the Hunting With Lucy stand.  Although the stand has seen better days and the part that reminded me of Lucy Van Pelt's psychiatry office is essentially gone at this point.

I had noticed a black blob on the pile when I was getting to the stand, but I assumed it was a small tree branch or something.  Taking a closer look once I was comfortable, I saw it was a small racoon eating corn.  It seems a little surprising that I don't see these guys more; although they are mostly nocturnal.

The early part of the sit passed slowly.  When the sun was out, I was cursing it as it was shining directly on me - this kept me warm, but also made it hard to see anything.  Once it went behind the pines, I cursed the cold.  Some days I guess I just can't be happy.

A few deer came and went throughout the afternoon.  

At one point the deer were tearing around like crazy to my left.  With all the noise, I was hoping it was pigs; small deer usually don't make that much noise.  I knew it was deer for sure when one of them came out with really grubby feet - she had been making a ruckus in the swamp.

As it started to get dark I heard noise to my left.  This really didn't sound like deer.  And I saw the unmistakable outline of pigs.  I still had a few minutes to shoot as the pigs started to pile out onto the corn.  There were a LOT of them.  There were two really big ones, 5-7 good eaters, and then more small ones than I could count.  

When pigs come out they generally run around and fight for a bit.  It is really risky to shoot during this time since they do move very fast.  Once the pigs settled down, I spent quite some time trying to pick out one and only one head to shoot.  Staring into shadows created by the setting sun didn't help; the remaining light behind the pines created blurring lens flair.  By the time the pigs had fully settled down, it was in the evil 5-minute period when I could probably still shoot, but should not...  Had I not screwed up the previous night, I might have tried.  But I didn't want to duff a shot two nights in a row.  It was too dark.  It was very painful.  It might have been the correct decision.

I texted Rick and asked if he wanted me to slip out (affirmative).  I did the best I could, but some deer were near the field cut-off and they may have spooked the pigs when they ran.  Rick picked me up shortly after I got to the rendezvous point.  

Gary had shot a nice eater 125 pound sow.  Back at the lodge, Rick cleaned and quartered his pig.

I was already second-guessing not shooting.  I certainly have connected on pigs under darker conditions before.  So maybe I was just a bit too timid.  As I went to sleep, I had this to rethink and overthink.

2025 Hog Hunt Day 2 - All Is Lost

After some typical futzing around, Gary and I went with Rick to feed stands.  There were some I'd seen many times before and (as always) a few I either had never seen or forgot about.  Most were hit quite well.

Then it was back to the lodge for some down time and lunch.  Sadly, it seems my cookies had gone AWOL.  Subsequent conversations with SO revealed some miscommunication and the cookies were in the cupboard at home.  Cookies probably count as ultra-processed, toxic food anyway...

Early afternoon came and we headed out.  Denis and Claude were under the weather so it was just Gary and I.  Temperatures were reasonable in the mid-40s with heavy cloud cover.  But I had been freezing all day, so I was grossly overdressed in my snow suit.  I was dropped off at the Carol Astor stand; after walking to it, it seemed like the first time all day I wasn't cold.

The afternoon started slowly.  The stand is a ground blind made of scaffolding which is a really good idea.  I played around with my zoom lens that fits over my cell phone.  I really can't decide how well it works vs. just zooming in all the way with the phone.  It isn't terrible, but getting a good picture takes a lot of messing around with it.  It might work a little better if I took my phone case off, but that is too much hassle to try to do while hunting.  Besides, the last time I tried to do so, I cracked my phone case.

I had a hard time getting settled; something just felt off as I was sitting there - something I just couldn't put my finger on.  Maybe this was prescient?

Mid-afternoon three deer came out.  They milled around for a couple hours.  I was glad to have something to watch.  A few times they nervously stared into the bush and I was hopeful something more interesting would appear, but that didn't happen.

They left for good later in the afternoon, leaving me alone with my thoughts.  Usually this is good - a blessing.  But not always.  I was still quite unsettled.

About an hour before dark, four deer popped out between me and the corn.  I was watching them when I saw a dark hog at the far end of the lane run right to left.  Usually this means they are working their way toward the corn.  The deer stayed put which also suggested they were nervous.

A short time later the hog popped out at the corn.  Both the hog and the deer were really nervous.  I had my gun up shortly after seeing the hog the first time.  I waited until he was clear of the deer and tried to decide what to do.  Nervous hogs flee quickly.  He was quartering toward me and I put my crosshairs on the crease of his neck.

The hog dropped and flopped a couple times at the shot.  Then he was up and out on three legs; I knew this was a bad sign.  I heard rustling in bush to the left.  I texted Rick with an update.  Then it was time to second-guess ... painfully so.  I should have waited; I should have head shot; I should have gone target shooting one more time; I should have...

This quickly morphed into guilt.  My 2024 deer hunt ended with a bad shot from the neighbor, now I was that guy.

Rick came with some daylight left.  We could easily see where the hog had bolted and we tracked him to the edge of heavy trees and brush.  We found several bone fragments, but not enough blood to keep going.  Hogs are very tough beasts.

Rick verbally beat me up while we picked up Gary.  He had seen hogs as well, but they were well beyond the pile and he chose not to shoot (probably wisely).

We closed out the day back at the lodge.  I had stuck the largest bone fragments in my pocket.  I think I'll keep it as a reminder that life's lessons are unrelenting.  And that every lesson I'm supposed to learn needs to be taught 1000 times and even then, I may be forever a neophyte.

2025 Hog Hunt Day 1 - Snow Fever

The last few winters at home have been a bit boring but boring in a good way.  The few heavy snows that I can recall were mostly weekends or near holidays.  That changed the previous Monday when about a foot of snow fell near home; the drifting made it worse.

A second round of snow, if slightly less significant, fell Friday.  This created some anxiety about the drive south, but at least I was leaving on Sunday.

Yet being a chronic worrier, I still left early in the morning worried about road conditions, worried about the route (I-40 remains closed), worried about home, worried about the dogs and SO, worried about work.  But I was also leaving anticipating another week of wild hog hunting.

Sunday morning came and after taking care of the dogs and a quick shower, I was on the road.  Early morning felt like even less traffic than usual - maybe a lingering hangover from the roads.  I made my way south.

I listened to The Knew by Sarah Kendzior for the entire trip.  I thought it was going to be a book about conspiracies that were/are real and it was ... sort of.  The book was really repetitive and rambled all over at times.  It seemed to often confuse and equate that which is illegal, unethical and just distasteful - which greatly distracted from her main thesis.  It also came across as though once someone has done something that fits into one of these categories, everything they ever do will be criminal.  I can't say I disagree with some of what she said, and there were some good nuggets.  But it was all doom and gloom.  I suspect if you gave Kendzior a delicious tuna sandwich, she would look at it and assume that four sea turtles were killed in its preparation.

She ended up in a circular firing squad by insinuating that everything bad could have been predicted by listening to prognosticators of conspiracies, but didn't seem to acknowledge that for every conspiracy theory that ended up being mostly correct, there are probably 80 of them that are mostly wrong.  The book was a solid 1.9 stars; while some books make the drive very short, I think The Knew made it longer.  I ended up finishing the drive with a podcast about coffee and caffeine - which was far more enjoyable.

But overall the drive went well - I can't complain and no sea turtles were killed.  There was lots of snow near home and significant ice remaining around central Kentucky.  I was able to see a glorious sunrise near the Kentucky-Tennessee border.

Instead of stopping at my "usual" place for gas and coffee, I went a little further.  I was glad I did since the gas was a bit cheaper and the coffee was not terrible.  I'll take both as wins for the trip.

Precipitation decreased once out of the mountains until it was gone as I descended into South Carolina's low country.

I was ready to be out of the vehicle by the time I got to Rick's.  Weather was a balmy mid-40's and very sunny! 

As I was unpacking, I realized I forgot my soft gun case for while going to and from the stand.  I always forget something, and I guess this year it is the case.  Overall not a big issue - most guys don't even use one.  But I guess it will be something for me to worry about.

Rick had vaporized shortly after I got to the lodge, so I had the place to myself as Gary (hunted with him a couple times before) was already out.  This gave me a chance to recover as much as possible from the drive.  I probably should have walked down to the river, but just didn't feel like it.

I had a noodle bowl for dinner and shortly after dark Gary was back.  He had seen one deer but no pigs.  Claude and Denis are staying at Denis's house, leaving more room in the lodge!

The adventure was just beginning.

2024 Deer Hunt - The Ethics of No Guts No Glory

The last six weeks have felt like a lurching scramble as I tried to get fall chores done when the weather was still mostly summer.  I reluctantly parked the motorcycles, but realistically only lost a day or two of mediocre commuting.  Final lawn mowing was late and hopefully late enough.

Work has been lurching from one issue to the next as well – yet every issue is also the same.  Amor Fati.

 With a pig in the freezer keeping my bear company, there isn’t that much room.  I was borderline about even going out for deer (the warm weather hasn’t helped).  Then Mike told me a neighbor was planning on hunting near the 2 creeks and his property line.  Ugh…

But I have the time off and even if Opening Day mayhem is not my favorite, it would not be fall without deer hunting; I would miss it.

So Friday after work I squeaked out of work a few minutes early.  After stopping at home to let the dogs out, I headed out to Mike's to put up my stand.  The recent rains had made the creeks hard to get through, but I found a way.  I didn't see the blinds on the neighbor's property, and where they were I decided would be almost a non-factor for me.  As usually happens, just walking back to put my stand up made me a bit more excited about hunting.

Saturday morning came and I woke up at my usual way-too-early hour.  I gave myself the luxury of a single cup of coffee as I watched TV with the dogs for a while.  "Hunting Tech" was on Modern Marvels which seemed only fitting.  Based on what it showed, it was probably at least 20 years old (I subsequently looked it up:  2002).  It was so nice just sitting with my older dog in my chair; she was absolutely content just snoozing under a blanket.  I almost didn't want to leave, but time eventually demanded it.

I was out the door right at 5:45 and made my way to Mike's.  Temperatures were warm for November in the mid-40's but were expected to change little through the day with clouds and only light wind.  Overall - I'll take it.  I hoofed it down to my stand and got set up easily enough.  Sitting there in the dark listening to ... nothing - it was almost magical.

Right near legal shooting I heard Mike's neighbor on his 4-wheeler going to his stand.  I don't think he hunted the last few years, at least not while I was there.

Since I'm nearly out of space in the freezer, I had decided that I was only going to shoot a nice deer or maybe if an absolute gimme walks in front of me.

Morning came slowly with the clouds but it was nice just being out there.  The squirrels were overactive, also taking advantage of the nice day before the cold front a few days in the future.

Mike's neighbor shot around 9:30.  It was LOUD; I almost jumped out of my skin.  Normally he climbs right on his 4-wheeler and noisily drags his deer away, but I didn't hear that this time.  It was one of the only shots I heard on opening morning - a far cry from some previous years when WWIII is happening in Eastern Indiana.

About a half hour later I saw a small buck in the ravine.  It plopped down on the ground after milling around a bit.  I thought, "I guess it might be bedding down, but that is just not normal."  A short time later I heard Mike's neighbor on the 4-wheeler - coming from Mike's property.  The buck got up and scooted toward the east, but not fast.  "Hmmmmm," I thought.  "I'd bet a paycheck Mike's neighbor did a poor shot."  Best thing for him to do would be to leave it alone.  I thought about what I could do, but decided there was really nothing I could do at that point.

After annoyingly buzzing around for a while, Mike's neighbor left.  I wondered what actually happened.  Did he do his best to track for a bit and the 4-wheeler was just a last ditch effort?  Was it just a half-assed attempt to find his deer from the start?  Poor shots happen - no question.  But I couldn't help being a little judgey about his roaring around and hoping.  I felt really bad for the deer.  It will probably hole up and die a painful death or the coyotes might get him.

The morning progressed into afternoon.  I was enjoying the time in the stand.  With the nice weather I had dressed old-school in some of my ancient hunting clothes; this just always feels right with deer.  But I did desperately wish I had my neck gator.  With even light wind catching my coat, I felt a brutal chill.  It was sitting on the seat in my truck and I almost went to get it, but decided to tough it out (real old school).

Around 2:00 I caught the glimpse of a big deer way at the south end of the property.  It looked to be a small-rack, large-bodied deer.  I could only see bits and pieces through the brush, but it was nice to see.  About a half hour later a small buck came in to my left.  I watched it as it milled around toward me.  It finally made it about 15 yards away - about as much of a "gimme" as I was going to get.  But I chose not to shoot and just snapped a few pictures.  Watching animals in a totally natural environment is one of the best things about hunting.

About an hour later I saw a deer in the ravine.  When it plopped on the ground, I (almost) knew it was the deer the neighbor had shot.  I watched it get up, move a few yards and bed down a few times, "Gosh that thing looks like it is in pain."  Then I saw the exit wound...

What are the ethics here?  I have almost no shot due to the distance and brush, but that animal is obviously in pain.  It also is not the deer that I "want."  No ... if it gives me the shot, I HAVE to try.

I watched it for another 10 minutes until it stood up with what looked like a clear lane to the vitals.  The last thing I wanted to do is shoot and wound further, "Make this count, Beagle."  The gun went off almost without me thinking about it.  The deer ran and I heard a crash.  It was likely the longest shot I've ever had on a whitetail.  So if my original plan was a nice deer or a gimme, this was neither.

I walked my climber down the tree and went over to the ravine.  The buck only ran about 15 yards.  Sometimes I do things and instantly know it was a poor decision - any introspective person does this.  This time I instantly knew it was the right thing.  Nope - a small six isn't what I "wanted" and I wasn't desperate for meat, but six hours of misery was already too much.  And yet, I won't claim it to be a righteous or courageous ... hopefully principled.

I packed out my stand and came back with my knives and sled.  I had tons of daylight to gut the deer and get it out.  That crappy sled makes hauling deer out so much easier.  In all fairness to Mike's neighbor, the shot wasn't terrible but not good enough.

I stopped in to talk to Mike and Mary for a few minutes before heading home.  It took a bit to get the deer strung up in the barn and things put away enough for the night.  Sunday would come with much work left to do.

________________________

I took the dogs out early Sunday thinking about the previous day.  It was a gorgeous morning and I was a bit wistful that I would not be hunting.  But a stunning moon halo told me that nature is its own gift, even without a rifle in hand. The stillness of the morning, the soft glow of the halo, and the energy of the dogs reminded me that the outdoors always holds something magical, whether I'm hunting or simply taking it all in.

2024 SC Deer Hunt Day 7 - The Week Ends

I was up early, packed and on the road by 3:30.  I felt bad that I woke Kevin up, but he's an early riser as well.  I hope to be back in camp with him again some time.

I worked my way north on 2-lane roads - happy Mr. Google would point me to all the turns.  Eventually I got routed onto 4-lane divided and I could relax a little more.

I was listening to Trail of the Lost by Andrea Lankford.  It was a reasonably good book about searching for people who go missing on the Pacific Coast Trail.  It kept me entertained for the entire drive home.  The book did jump around a lot without any theme to the jumps which made following any one story impossible; it might have been different if I was reading the book instead of listening to it.  The book also spent too much time on the whole idea of psychic phenomenon finding lost people.  It didn't exactly give credence to it, but it took credibility away from the overall theme.  I suppose for the families involved, grasping at any straw might be worth it.  I would have really liked it if the book could have ended with at least one of the main stories resulted in a found hiker (even if deceased).  But maybe that is the point ... these people go missing and many are never found.

I'm genetically predisposed to hate tolls, so the West Virginia tollpike made my skin crawl a little bit.  Even though the cost is insanely higher than the one Illinois toll I pay going up to Canada, at least the view along much of the road is quite pretty.

Eventually I started heading west.  Traffic all day was tolerable.  Once home, SO was mowing the lawn when I got there (she is still wonderful).  I thought about taking over from her, but I had much unpacking to do, some major clean-up and a hog to get in the freezer as soon as possible.

The dogs were thrilled I was home and after a long day, I tried to relive the week in my head as I went to sleep that night.  But sleep came easy.