We've had rain just about every chance I've had to go hunting and coupled with an extraordinary work load right now (thank God!), I've only been in the woods 4-5 times so far this season. Well, Ray knew the circumstances of my schedule and had pity on me. "Drop yer laptop and grab yer longbow brother!" Ray said in a call to me. The Lord worked everything out and I was able cut out for a long weekend.
Friday traffic in Atlanta was a scrambling circus...as usual. But it gave us a good chance to catch up, plan hunt strategies and make up new "redneck dictionary" words while listening to Jeff Foxworthy and James Gregory on my iPod. Once outside the poisonous claws of urban sprawl the trip was uneventful and we started the process of changing speed from overdrive work mode to snails' pace hunting crawl. Normally, it takes me some time to get into the right mindset but long drives like this have the unique quality of not only transporting you physically, but emotionally away from the epicenter of all things the antithesis of the peace found in the woods. As mile after mile of SC planted pine flatland rolled by outside the window, I found myself settling into a warm glow, anticipating the comfortable familiarity of camp at Hog Heaven and the gifts God has there to bestow upon those who fortunate enough to seek His peace there.
Arriving well after dark, it was too late to hunt so we passed the time before bed arranging gear, touching up broadheads, and discussing the plan of action. Tired from the long ride in the truck as well as the decompression that comes from leaving the city far behind, I drifted off to the serenade of crickets as visions of game danced through the swamp in my dreams.
:campfire:
Awwww yeeeah :coffee:
From the first paragraph I could tell this is goin to be a good un ! :campfire:
nocams
JC - great to hear from you!
"How do you like your eggs?" Ray asked over the sizzle of bacon in the frying pan. "However you're making them," was my obvious answer.
It was still dark but you could see the sky was heavily overcast. The breeze though warm, was thick against my face carrying the smell of rain. From the forecast we knew it would rain a bit, and after weeks and weeks of the same at home in N.GA, I wasn't surprised. In contrast to my area, Ray said it had been far too dry and the rain was sorely needed...it seems as the drought was lifting at home, this part of SC only fell deeper into it's clutches. For the sake of the land, I didn't curse it's inevitable coming. I made sure I had my Sitka gear jacket in the pack in case it became anything more than a sprinkle.
Saddle Up! The gear went on the down tailgate and we gently drove down the flat sand road towards the interior of the property, speaking in hushed tones even inside the cab of the truck...we were both fully in character.
We had decided to slip into a feeder that was frequented by a disproportionate number of big hogs early in the mornings. Ok, twist my arm Ray, I'll take point. Gliding along the meandering grass lane through the mixed pine/clear-cut had us expecting sounders around each bend. Anticipation is indeed the flavor on a hunter's plate: my eyes constantly locked/unlocked on any patch of color that wasn't green, my ears strained to pick up any porcine conversation, my nose was constantly alert for the barnyard breeze...man, this is THE STUFF right here! The feeder was bare but the ground beneath it was turned to the peculiar consistency of plastic that hog hunters love to see...not quite spackle, not quite pudding but somewhere in between.
With so many possibilities and the weather uncertain, we decided to split up. Ray was going to walk the middle road deeper into the swamp while I was going to skirt the edge, just near enough to see into the swamp and still have view of the in-growth clear cut along the old logging road.
Keep it coming JC. Glad to see you got to do some hunting. I know you have been really busy lately.
Glad to have you back JC. I thought you fell off the face of the earth! Keep it coming, I'm enjoying it for sure. :bigsmyl: :campfire:
Mike
QuoteOriginally posted by JC:
ground beneath it was turned to the peculiar consistency of plastic that hog hunters love to see...not quite spackle, not quite pudding but somewhere in between.
Boy does this line bring a smile to my face. When you see this you hear better you see better and you smell better, your hunter mode jumps by ten fold.
Keep it comming, man im ready to help drag a hog.
Come on JC, Don't drag this out,LOL :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :banghead:
Not long into my walk, I heard movement up into the clear-cut area.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0428.jpg)
Apparently, I was a bit excited and pushed beyond a "stalk"...two deer catapulted out of the brush, tails waving dramatically as they blew the far too familiar tune of "See-ya-stupid-human". Slow down, this ain't concrete you're walking on...
I made my way around to another feeder I knew about. Poised on the edge of the swamp I had seen quite a bit of activity there in past trips. Again my mouth involuntarily watered expecting to see animals at any moment as I crept closer to the feeder...only able to see the top of it over the high grass that was between it and I. Inching closer, I finally viewed empty ground beneath the feeder. Empty, but not barren...the "plastic" was completely covered in every conceivable footprint of the local fauna.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0429.jpg)
I worked my way out to the main road and just enjoyed a gentle stroll; just far enough near the edge of the woodline to provide quick cover but still able to see down the road and at the numerous crossroads I traveled past. As is frequently expected at Hog Heaven, it wasn't 5 minutes and I saw a black form appear from the right side of the road. Immediately stopping, dropping to a crouch, and sidestepping against a tree in one motion, the 150 or so pound hog turned directly towards me at 50 yards, it's wiry tail lashing across each ham from around it's behind...with that purposeful bouncy trot that only pigs have when they are headed towards their next meal (which seems to be literally all the time).
10 quick steps later and he turned 90 degrees down a crossroad, not spooked, just off about whatever business he had originally set upon. I crossed to the left of the road and did my best low squat quick step to the intersection, peeking through the brush as best as I could looking for the telltale black shape. I could see him quickly leaving me; his methodically churning feet invisible in the knee high grass he looked more like a motorboat on a sea of green as the grass parted before him and closed in behind him as he passed. I picked up my pace along the soft ground trying to gain back some of the distance.
But in 20 yards his lead became 60...and in 30, became 70. There's just no catching a hog in a straight line....he eventually turned into the thick pines at tunnel/trail. Yeah man...this is THE STUFF!
hey jc this aint fair ya just ran out on us ya cant leave us hanging there ya do know this has taken about 2 days to reach me here in NZ :biglaugh: nice story bro keep it comming
jc....keep it coming I am headed to Ray's place in 14 days 5 hrs and 33 sec's or there abouts but who's keeping track...lol....this is only helping to get the juices flowing...
I turned around and headed back towards the main road, a broad smile on my face brought about from the close proximity to a good sized pig. Something in the back of my mind reminded me not to make the mistake I had who knows how many times, I slowed down as I neared the intersection to make sure I didn't bumble right into hogs in my path.
Sure enough, I heard rustling in the deep ditch that paralleled the side road I was on. I got to my knees and crawled towards the intersection in an attempt to get a good view of what was making the noise in amongst the blackberry brambles at the bottom of the mini-ravine. Crawl an inch, scan all around making sure I'm not ignoring "one in the hand for one in the bush", strain my eyes in the ditch trying to pick out a shootable form. More rustling...another inch...my string tightens slightly in my fingers, not starting to draw but enough pressure to remind me it's there. More rustling...I still can't see anything but dormant blackberry bramble between me and the sound...some fall leaves in the bottom of the ditch through the tiny holes of the briars. Man...if this is an armadillo I'm going to feel like such a.....CRASH!
A 75-100# hog the color of dead leaves explodes out of the bottom of the ditch and rockets up the far side disappearing into the pine thicket with nary a rustle between the boughs. I'm left with my heart in my throat and a silly grin on my face...I can't help but chuckle at myself as I finally realize the wind has picked up...and changed direction blowing across the nape of my neck and across the ditch...
:wavey:
Lots of action so far!!! Somethin tells me it wil get even better!!
:thumbsup:
:campfire:
ANNNDDDD?????????
I head back to intersection, looking both ways lest I be trampled by an inattentive sounder, turning left continuing on my original path. The road is crossed multiple times by game trails...paths going from the clear cut area, the veil of the swamp and the planted pines. Nope, there's no pigs in Hog Heaven...
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0432.jpg)
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0436.jpg)
More to come.... :campfire:
When? :goldtooth: Dang hogs!
:campfire:
I decided it was getting time to turn back to the truck. The wind continued to pick up and a light mist began to fall. Not 100 yards back the way I'd come, I noticed another good wallow in the ditch with a heavy trail from the pines. While standing there looking at the complexity of interwoven lanes, the front half of a hog materialized right in front of me...looking down the road away from me...he simply turned and vanished into the seemingly impenetrable thicket as quickly as he appeared. Never knew I was there, but not long enough to offer me more than just a blink of a moment to recognize what he was there.
In less than a half hour I had close encounters with 3 different hogs within 150 yards of each other. Ray don't call it Hog Heaven for nuthin....
The rain began to fall but I didn't switch to my rain gear...it was warm and I wasn't too far.
I stayed on the road because it was the shortest route. Along the way though I was distracted by the THIRTEEN scrapes I counted, on both sides of the road...
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0446.jpg)
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0440.jpg)
The rain came down harder and eventually became a downpour. I made it back to the truck about the same time Ray did; he relayed his close encounters with a big buck while I told him of my pig tails.
On the way back a wet sow crossed the road with a following of shoats and piglets. By the time Ray had the truck stopped I had my bow in my hands and I was off through the scrub. The sounder scattered away from me as I tried to catch up.
Curtis Kellar had given me lessons on hog callin multiple times while hunting with him. Though I've got no real clue compared to Littlefeather, I gave my best series of grunts. Low and behold, a good sized boar answered my call running straight at me. I was completely caught flat footed. I was on my knees but as I drew he knew that bush wasn't supposed to be there...he made a hard left and rejoined the sounder of "real" pigs. From what I saw of the sow, piglets, shoats, and boar, that now made 12-15 pigs for the morning.
The rain continued and we headed back to camp for a sandwich and a debriefing. Half a days hunt and I had already had a seasons worth of memories. Anything more would simply be gravy...little did I know, there was lots of gravy to come.
After sandwiches Ray and I took a drive 10 miles down the road for good cell service where we checked in with our families and relayed our tales so far. Apparently I was missing a great double header with Connor's fall baseball team, but for once, I thought I might be having more fun than him.
Back at the camp, the rain lulled us into a state of bleary discussion; the nap was upon us and we couldn't resist it's siren call.
My internal alarm clock rolled me out of my bunk. My feet were on the floor before I really realized it was time to get hunting...I was on auto pilot. The rain had mercifully cleared and unusually for the south, it had actually cooled in it's wake. I had decided to sit a stand for the evening, maybe trying to fill a doe tag for the freezer. Maybe I had already pushed my ration of luck for the day on the pigs, we would see how the deer reacted.
Ray dropped me off and I followed his directions to the stand, enjoying the sunshine and cool breeze. A short while later I was settled comfortably 18 feet up a tree, overlooking a beautiful section of woods bordering the creek. I had a great view as the sun went down; nothing more than the constant activity of squirrels but an enjoyable evening none the less. As earlier, the constant anticipation of "what could be" was enough to keep me on the edge of my seat.
Ray picked me up after dark and though my host was slightly disappointed I didn't have continuation of the action I had earlier in the morning, we were both in perma-grin mode from the simple joy of being in the woods. While I rearranged gear for the next days hunt, Ray hooked us up with some FINE hand cut steaks, oven roasted vegetables, and ice cold beer. I can't tell you how satiated I was, both physically and emotionally I was at the end of day. Incredible hunting, incredible food, incredible company...so far it was nothing but gravy.
We talked late into the evening, until I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer. That night I didn't dream, I simply fell out after a day full of adrenaline overload.
We woke to a clear and cool Sunday morning. Again, Ray had the breakfast hot without any help from me. Though I don't remember telling him how to cook them, my eggs were perfect anyway...WHOMP biscuits completed my fuel for the morning's hunt.
I really felt good about the spot from the night before, I just knew that spot would produce. Besides, the scenery was simply pristine and I hadn't gotten enough from the previous afternoon's vigil. After Ray dropped me off, I settled in for the rest of the crisp morning. It passed uneventfully except for a small basket-rack that passed safely in range.
By 10:30 I had decided there was nothing left there on the stand for me and set off across the property. Changing tactics, I thought it was time to get back on the pigs that had all but thrown themselves at my feet the day before. I found a wallow Ray had described to me but nothing but mud awaited me there. I wound my way through game trails, past feeder fields and along grassy lanes enjoying the sunshine and low humidity the high pressure front following the previous day's rain. I stopped more than once to "smell the roses"....God continued to bless me throughout the trip with more smiles than my simple heart could contain.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0451.jpg)
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0454.jpg)
I made the long hike back to camp without sighting any game. Another great lunch awaited me and though the breakfast was spectacular, it had worn off some time ago.
Ray and I got involved in hanging two new stands so lunch was delayed until late. Before I knew it, the day had matured and it was time to start back out for the evening hunt. I had a feeling...I wanted to go into the swamp to find a hog and Ray helped me narrow my choices. Something in my gut told me it was about to happen...this afternoon was the main event...it was about to all come together.
:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
Just caught up on this, great story. Wow Joe, you had more action in one morning than I've had all season long. Looking forward to the rest of your "pig tail"!
I took the John Deere Gator into the swamp and Ray went to an oak flat closer to camp. I parked at a crossroads and took "the middle road" towards the depths of the property. The breeze was mild and steady, the right direction for both my walk in and the stand I wanted to make my way towards.
A few hundred yards down the road I heard an obvious discussion among a group of pigs off to my right. I veered off the road and out into the trees, picking my way as quietly as possible while trying to keep trees between me and the sounds. Shortly I came upon a big sow with 7 or 8 footballs in tow. It reminded me of the aquarium....a big fish swimming along while an entire school of smaller fish darted and danced all around it as it moved. The suckling piglets would run into her, bounce off, bang into each other, fall, roll, tip over, jump up to do it all over again while she rooted. They seemed more interested in milling around each other than rooting...it was comical to watch her trying to find something to eat while they continually got in her way. I could almost hear "Would you kids STOP that!??!!".
Pointing my bow at them and whispering "thump" to count coup, I backed out and continued on. A few hundred yards later I caught movement off to my left...black shapes drifting among the tree trunks. Another sow with shoats in tow, looking a bit more reserved than the previous group. Among them were two shooter pigs 125+/-, so I quickly nocked an arrow while I duck-walked towards an intercept path. They were really moving quick and at an angle that would require me to stay at just short of a run to connect with them. I gave it a try but the number of eyes and the speed I was forced to travel was too much for my luck. Busted, I made my way back up onto the trail and proceeded to the stand.
Settled in, the stand overlooked a feeder in a small clearing. Even though it was still well before dark, there was a distinct contrast between the darkness of the surrounding swamp and the open hole of sunlight ahead of me. The ground under the feeder was mixed into the typical cake batter/plastic hogs create and not a kernel in sight...it was obviously used heavy.
I saw a couple of turkeys glide into my peripheral vision. They made a quick circle around the glade and evaporated the way they came. As I was watching them go, I had just hung my bow back up to readjust my harness....only to almost jump out of my skin as the feeder went off. You know it's coming, you even have a rough idea of when...but when it happens I still am caught completely surprised for that brief second. Glad my bow was hanging...
I put an arrow on the string and attached my arrow holder, angling my body so I wouldn't have to move far for a shot. A minute later a coon sauntered in, going right to the water in the wallow/hole beside the feeder to begin testing it's depths for morsels of corn. I enjoy watching coons, it doesn't take long doing that to understand how they can get into so much mischief: if I didn't know better, I would believe they "think". Another coon joined the first and both went to playing in the water for their supper. Their front paws churning bubbles into the mud slurry as they feverishly worked for each individual kernel of corn.
Gruntin hogs in on you can get real exciting! Glad you got to use yhose tools. Sounds like a great hunt so far. Carry on. CK
:campfire: :coffee:
Engrossed in watching their God-given talents, I was snapped out of my trance as they both looked up to my right into the swamp...and quickly beat it in the other direction. Here now! Maybe we got something here!
In came a big black sow, I'll bet close to 200#, with a purposeful gait that took her straight for the feeder...followed by the most eclectic bunch of piglets I had ever seen. Sizes from not much bigger than my hand to footballs, colored from black to rust with a calico and brown/black striped one thrown in. They all began rooting as if their life depended on it...wait a minute, it did.
Again enjoying the spectacle the Lord had blessed me with, I was surprised as another sow with piglets in tow barreled in and broke me from my thrall. There were now 13 pigs under the feeder, frantically hoovering up anything they could find.
WHOOOF! came a deep sound from the direction they had entered. All the suckling piglets threw themselves belly down in the mud, some piling on top of the others, and froze solid. The sows both wheeled and faced the sound, resounding "Whoofs" of their own. Everything seemingly returned to normal after a few seconds of silence, the piglets unthawing and going about their antics as if nothing happened. WHOOF! again from the side...the previous scene played out two more times before I decided I was going after the obviously bigger pig outside my view. Believe it or not, it wasn't too hard slipping down the back of the tree...the hogs made so much noise among themselves they never heard me get down. I backed straight away, keeping the tree between me and them until I got 30 or so yards further away, then turned my attention to my right where the sounds had come from. I slowly stalked from tree to tree, straining my eyes to pick up any movement in the falling light.
I saw more shapes materializing out of the swamp filtering into the edge of the clearing. I picked an angle that would take me on an intercept where they new group was coming from. I could see these weren't footballs, there were numerous shooter pigs making their way through the woods angling towards me.
Great story JC.I was in a bunch of hogs last Sunday and never got a shot so your story is very familiar.Keep it coming. :thumbsup:
I was gettin the nerves now...hogs were close and there were a lot of eyes to catch any mistake I made...one wrong move and my hunt for the night would be over. One hog passed by at the right angle and distance....but it couldn't have been 30# and I really wanted something bigger considering everything that was moving into range. Up out of a depression a pig angled in...the green light went off in my head as I began to put pressure on the string, starting the draw. The hog turned slightly away, looking back the way it had come...I saw the hollow of it's armpit as it shuffled it's left leg forward...I remember realizing I was in the last 1/2" of my draw, bearing down on that hollow, and then the arrow was in almost silent flight.
WHUMP! the arrow disappeared as if the hog's chest had swallowed it in one gulp. It whirled and exploded...hogs erupted from everywhere...as Jeff Foxworthy would say "It was Pandolearium!" I struggled to keep my eye on my target among so many wildly running bodies. Within seconds all I could hear was the beating of my heart and the curious "plop..pop" of bubbles in the mud where the hogs had been just before.
I made my way to the impact point and found my arrow neatly stuck in the mud, covered from point to nock in the prettiest shade of perfect crimson a hunter has ever seen. I slung the blood off, the sweet coppery aroma cloying at my nostrils and tickling some atavistic section of my brain...a reflexive grin spread across my face.
I traced a few yards the direction I thought it went...a few more yards I saw good blood. Light was falling fast, my pack was up the tree 50 yards away, I was long walk from the gator and we had a dinner plans with our friend Andrew in an hour. It's tough to leave knowing you've got one on the ground but I had no desire to get turned around in the swamp for the rest of the night. I needed more light that what I had brought with me at least. I marked last blood, gathered my gear and hustled back to the gator. I thanked God as I drove back to camp; for the opportunity to see what I had, experience what had just happened, and prayed that the animal now lay dead from a clean shot.
Back at camp Ray was already slicked up and ready to go. "So are we draggin?" he asked. I just smiled and showed him the crusty arrow. He was ecstatic; jumping up his expression changed slightly, he set his jaw and said "I'll change." I told him I thought the best thing to do would be to make our dinner plans with Andrew; I hadn't seen him in too long and I was sure the pig wasn't going anywhere.
The reunion with Andrew was as it should be among close friends, picking up right where we had left off as if it had not been many months in between. Dinner was fantastic and we all ate almost to the point of pain; much laughter and smiles...it was simply more icing on the cake to an already incredible day. Ray and I hated to leave, but it was already 10:30 and we knew it would be late by the time we got back to camp and then the pig out of the swamp.
"First blood is here..." I pointed to Ray as I picked up the TP I had left to mark the spot. "Blood here....blood here....blood here..." as I walked the trail. Couple of times it took us a minute to determine which way it had gone, the path made a circuitous route through the timber. "Blood here..." I said. "There it is JC..." I looked up and 15 yards away lay the 125# dry sow, sprouting a small bouquet of shining bubbles from the triangular hole in her side. Turning back to look at the headlights of the still running gator, she hadn't gone 60 yards as the crow flies from first blood. Congratulations, backslaps, grins, and even a giggle was heard. The relief of actually putting your hands on the animal you "knew" was down is heady emotion indeed.
We drug her to the gator and motored back to camp, our eyes watering in the now cold air...my perma-grin stuck on my face as I replayed the shot in my mind.
At the skinning shed we emptied her and hung her in the walk in cooler. It was late and I would have plenty of time to complete the necessary tasks before leaving in the morning.
I couldn't go to sleep; I busied myself with washing the bloody arrow, resharpening the head, arranging gear for the morning hunt. Eventually, the adrenaline left my system and I crashed into my bunk sometime around 1am (that's late for a guy who gets up every day at 4).
Way to go JC. Great story telling. :thumbsup:
Congrats JC!
I sure do enjoy your story tellin Mr.Coots!
Gotta love a good story...... :coffee:
most excellent in every way, jc - way to go brother!
Ray woke me at 6 to ask if I wanted to hunt the last morning or not. As much as I wanted to, I had a hog to take care of, packing to do, and if I killed something that morning I would be late getting home...something I couldn't afford to do because of some previous commitments. Ray decided to stay also and we went to get the hog for some pictures.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0475.jpg)
Ray returned to camp to be with Andrew who had come to cook breakfast for us and see us off. I took the pig back to the shed to process her into the cooler.
The 300Extreme (680gr total arrow wt) out of the 59#@27 Morrison Shawnee broke a rib coming and going, through both lungs. Needless to say, penetration is never my concern with this setup.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0457.jpg)
I'm sure many have heard the mantras of hog shots, low and forward...but thought I'd post a pic showing just how small the goodie box is. Both lungs and the heart can be cradled in the cup of two hands.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0463.jpg)
The rest of the day went by in a blur, before I knew it Ray was dropping me off at my car in Atlanta with my gear and a cooler full of fresh pork.
Later that evening I processed further, cleaning out the cooler of all it's goodness. One look at the fine fare of the backstraps and tenderloins on the cutting board, Miss Kim said "You're going to have to go get some more of that!".
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v701/recurvhuntr/10-09%20Hog%20Hunt/IMG_0479.jpg)
"Yes ma'am!" I said with a big grin, "It's a tough job, but I'm willing to make the sacrifice!" :campfire:
Great story. great pics, great hog..... I really enjoyed it all JC. Thanks for taking the time to share all the details.
Good to see you posting again, JC. Better to hear that your work has turned around and although busy, as you say, even that today is a blessing.
Ray...one day when $$ squares, I'm going to find out what all the fuss is about! :)
Great Story JC! We recognize some of the places you descibed so well....Congratulations :clapper:
Awesome story bud! You had me right there with you the whole time. Congratulations! If you need some help disposing of some of that pork, don't hesitate to call me.
Neil
Joe- I'm happy for your great hunt and , I'm sure, much needed weekend off. Well told story- the best I've read in a while. Look forward to seeing you around Thanksgiving...Grant
Great story, and congrats!
Great story, heading down there my self in March. This just gets the juices flowing!
Congrats great story.I love those piggies.Cant wait to hunt them again. :notworthy:
Great read. Thanks for sharing buddy.
man I can't wait to hunt down there again.
Sweet! Glad to see you had a great hunt. Glad to see some pork cleaned up and ready for some fire. :thumbsup:
JC
Congratulations, and great story!
What a difference a few rain storms can make. I was there three weeks ago and the place was as dry as a popcorn f**t. I never saw a hog in spite of many miles covered. Some of your pics looked familiar. I think we may have covered some of the same area.
congratulations, enjoyed the story! I am headed down to Ray's early in the morning. I hope to have the same great time and success that you had. :thumbsup:
Great tale! Thanks for the ride!
Geez it takes you guys along time to kill a hog. I woulda killed one on page one :-)
Great story. Thanks for taking us along.
Ain't nothing more dangerous than a redneck with a thesaurus unless it is a redneck with a Morrison. Good job, buddy!
:archer:
Great story jc.....you are making my wait real hard. hope to have a story when i get back.
Congratulations JC, looks like some real good eating. I'm glad to hear business has picked up
Thanks for all the kind words fellers. It was certainly a trip to remember and I'm glad you enjoyed it with me.
Way to go buddy! Congrats on a great shot, and work getting better :thumbsup:
Now go put another one of those 3 bladers thru a big buck!
BTW, you're a very talented story teller :notworthy:
Congrats JC, call me when the biscuits are bout out of the oven !
nocams :biglaugh:
I thank you for takin' me along. Being there in my mind was almost the same as being there for real. Good hunt and good story telling Joe. Way to go! If I get the dough together I want to go on this one sometime.
Really enjoyed the spinning of your tale and the photos. What a great hunt!
QuoteOriginally posted by gregg dudley:
Ain't nothing more dangerous than a redneck with a thesaurus unless it is a redneck with a Morrison. Good job, buddy!
:archer:
Ok, now that's funny!
As always, your stories are a sensory treat. I smell, taste, see and feel it all.
Thanks for the trip, and congratulations JC!
Good hunt and story JC.Keep at`m.RC
JC, fine bit of tale telling there bro. That hog had a hole in the 12 ring for sure!
I'm just back from a week with Whip and told him one morning that I knew the trip to visit you was close 'cause I woke up tasting biscuits and thinking of your country fried venison.
It's been probably 20 years but I remember Ray's Lamb chops like it were yesterday. I'm tempted to sign up just for his cooking. If I was Ray, I'd only let Biggie in camp if he did his own cooking.