It's been a while since we've gone hunting. My hunting buddies and I have been disappointed time and time again. Hunting trips are now called "armed hikes". The pigs knew we were coming, weren't there in the first place, or were such crafty little ninjas that we couldn't possibly find or track them.
I guess I have the pig hunting sickness. What started as a fun hobby almost killed me and two friends this past weekend. What sucks is that I'm not deterred. If anything I am more determined to stalk and kill a wild pig on public land.
I'm determined to stalk and kill a wild pig on public land. Judging by the pig tag return data, I'm probably not going to be successful. Too bad I'm stubborn.
A colleague and good friend from work, Jeff Meyer, made me a bet that I wouldn't actually find and kill a pig. The terms of the bet were that he would cook the pig and provide the beer for everyone at Centellax to enjoy. I'm not sure what I was supposed to do if I didn't get a pig, but, well, it didn't matter, did it?
After I decided I wanted to hunt wild pigs I was faced with a challenging question: how?
Hunting with a bow and arrow sounds cool, but I don't think I'm that hardcore. Crossbows are interesting but a little medieval for me. Dropping from a tree with a big knife sounds like a recipe for disaster. I guess there are other ways to do it, but I decided I needed a rifle.
If at first you don't succeed, pay someone to help you succeed. Our first hunting trip was a mess. We didn't find any pigs. We didn't even know what to look for. We needed help.
My friend Brad and I spent a few hours crawling around Cow Mountain hunting wild pigs. We were very unsuccessful, but it was an awesome experience.
