I headed up the mountain on Wednesday, April 8th after work to check for wild hog activity in an area that I hadn't hunted in awhile. I drove my truck as far as I could go and parked at a locked USFS gate. The area around the parking area had literally been plowed by wild hogs! However, I couldn't hunt immediately around the truck, that would make too much sense. No sir, I was going to head to the top of the mountain and drop off of the back side into the "secret" woods. Along the way up, I noticed alot of fresh hog rooting in the old logging road that I was following. I also spooked a turkey hen that had been scratching near the side of the road and she ran (not flew) off, not overly alarmed. The farther I got from the truck, the less hog sign I saw. Stubbornly, I trudged on and fell off of the back side of the mountain to an area where I had had good luck finding hogs in the past.
Unfortunately, there was no hog sign in this area at all with the exception of one narrow trench in the ground that looked like it had been made by one wandering rooter. I was about two miles from the truck and I had about an hour and a half to hunt before dark. It occured to me that the best plan was to head back toward the truck, rapidly!
After I made it back to the top of the mountain, I slowly made my way down the old logging road that I had just came up. I was able to stalk much more quietly by walking this old road than trying to crunch through the leaves on either side of the road. Besides, there had been fresh rooting in the road, and I could see 50-75 yards on either side. I had only gone about 100-200 yards from the top of the mountain when I spotted some hogs rooting right in the road! I needed to stalk closer since the hogs were about 125-150 yards away; too far for my ability to shoot accurately with the open sights on my Great Plains Rifle shooting patched round balls.
I dropped off into the woods on the left hand side of the road to put some trees between me and the feeding hogs. The wind was perfect; it was hitting me right in the face. I stalked as rapidly and as quietly as possible. Every now and then I would slowly raise my head above the grade of the road so that I could see the hogs and make sure that they were unalarmed. Finally, I got to within 75 yards or so from the hogs. I cocked my GPR, brought it up to my shoulder, and rested it on a poplar tree growing on the side of the old road bed.
There were several hogs in the gang of all sizes and colors. There were a couple of light-colored sows and a number of 30 lb. pigs runnning around in the gang. The hogs appeared to be coming my way, rooting right on the edge of the road, noses pointed toward me. I waited until the hog closest to me gave me a "quartering to" shot. I then put the bead of the GPR on his right shoulder and squeezed off the shot.
When the smoke cleared, the hogs ran slightly down the road and crossed over the ditch on the opposite side of the road and into the woods. I thought that the hog that I had just shot at looked "hit" (but I wasn't sure) and I made my way down to where the hogs had been rooting. After I found the rooting closest to my firing position I concluded that it must have been made by the hog that I had just shot at and I checked for signs of a hit. I found nothing. I walked down the road 10-20 yards and could find no blood in the road. So, I backtracked to where the rooting was and replayed the hog's exit in my mind. The hog had crossed the road at an angle and went up the bank on the opposite side and headed into the woods. I climbed to the top of the bank and I was rewarded by finding a good amount of blood in the leaves. The hog was fairly easy to track but the woods were so thick that I couldn't see but just a few yards ahead. It seemed like forever, but I had only gone about 40 yards or so and I saw the young boar lying on his side about 10 yards in front of me.
Upon examining the hog, I found that the .50 caliber ball had hit him in his right shoulder, passed completely through the animal, and exited low on his left side about 3-4 inches behind his left shoulder. After taking a few pictures with my camera's automatic timer, I skinned and quartered the hog and carried the meat back to my truck in my backpack.
Unfortunately, there was no hog sign in this area at all with the exception of one narrow trench in the ground that looked like it had been made by one wandering rooter. I was about two miles from the truck and I had about an hour and a half to hunt before dark. It occured to me that the best plan was to head back toward the truck, rapidly!
After I made it back to the top of the mountain, I slowly made my way down the old logging road that I had just came up. I was able to stalk much more quietly by walking this old road than trying to crunch through the leaves on either side of the road. Besides, there had been fresh rooting in the road, and I could see 50-75 yards on either side. I had only gone about 100-200 yards from the top of the mountain when I spotted some hogs rooting right in the road! I needed to stalk closer since the hogs were about 125-150 yards away; too far for my ability to shoot accurately with the open sights on my Great Plains Rifle shooting patched round balls.
I dropped off into the woods on the left hand side of the road to put some trees between me and the feeding hogs. The wind was perfect; it was hitting me right in the face. I stalked as rapidly and as quietly as possible. Every now and then I would slowly raise my head above the grade of the road so that I could see the hogs and make sure that they were unalarmed. Finally, I got to within 75 yards or so from the hogs. I cocked my GPR, brought it up to my shoulder, and rested it on a poplar tree growing on the side of the old road bed.
There were several hogs in the gang of all sizes and colors. There were a couple of light-colored sows and a number of 30 lb. pigs runnning around in the gang. The hogs appeared to be coming my way, rooting right on the edge of the road, noses pointed toward me. I waited until the hog closest to me gave me a "quartering to" shot. I then put the bead of the GPR on his right shoulder and squeezed off the shot.
When the smoke cleared, the hogs ran slightly down the road and crossed over the ditch on the opposite side of the road and into the woods. I thought that the hog that I had just shot at looked "hit" (but I wasn't sure) and I made my way down to where the hogs had been rooting. After I found the rooting closest to my firing position I concluded that it must have been made by the hog that I had just shot at and I checked for signs of a hit. I found nothing. I walked down the road 10-20 yards and could find no blood in the road. So, I backtracked to where the rooting was and replayed the hog's exit in my mind. The hog had crossed the road at an angle and went up the bank on the opposite side and headed into the woods. I climbed to the top of the bank and I was rewarded by finding a good amount of blood in the leaves. The hog was fairly easy to track but the woods were so thick that I couldn't see but just a few yards ahead. It seemed like forever, but I had only gone about 40 yards or so and I saw the young boar lying on his side about 10 yards in front of me.
Upon examining the hog, I found that the .50 caliber ball had hit him in his right shoulder, passed completely through the animal, and exited low on his left side about 3-4 inches behind his left shoulder. After taking a few pictures with my camera's automatic timer, I skinned and quartered the hog and carried the meat back to my truck in my backpack.
