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.
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