In Texas, the Feral Hogs Are All a Part of the Deer Hunt

My favorite pair of pants has a rip in it. I got the tear from the scissor-like tusk of a … Continued

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My favorite pair of pants has a rip in it. I got the tear from the scissor-like tusk of a rank wild boar.

On Nov. 14, I woke up at 4:30 a.m. and made the long hike in the dark by headlamp to a ground blind near a creek bottom. I’ve been spying on that spot from a distance with a spotting scope. Two real solid bucks, one of them a tall-tined 10-point and the other an old 8-point, live in that stretch of broken country. Both bucks are 145-150 inches and worth losing sleep over.

It was barely shooting light when I saw the tall-racked 10-point headed my way. He was very nervous, taking a step and scanning the brush around him. A smaller buck was with him. Finally, he got as close as 25 yards, but he was so on edge I could not lift my bow. There was barely a breath of wind. I did not dare move. Suddenly, he tossed his head up, stared hard toward the creek, and then put his flag up and bounded away. Thirty seconds later, out stepped a tank-sized wild boar, swishing his tail back and forth as he got closer.

When the big hog was broadside at 20 steps, I sucked the bowstring of my 64-pound Hoyt Carbon Matrix bow back as quietly as possible. The hog never knew I was there. I steadied the bright green pin one third of the way up from the belly line, tight in the crease of the hog’s massive shoulder. When I touched off the arrow buried 12 inches deep, stopping against the off-side shoulder. The big hog barely flinched, but then side-stepped a few yards, unsure of what had hit him. He walked towards my exposed hideout, little more than a few cedar branches piled under the canopy of an overhanging cedar tree. He was standing ten yards away, and then he started to wobble. He fell over and was dead in mere seconds. The razor-sharp broadhead had pierced both lungs. It is so amazing how deadly a single, well-placed arrow can be, even on a beast.

I did not appreciate how big the hog was until I walked up to him. His chest was massive! When I went to roll him over and prop him up for photos, his razor-sharp tusk snagged my pants, a neat two-inch tear in my fancy KUIU pants. Every time I wear those pants, I’ll remember that jumbo-sized hog.

I did not get the jumbo porker on a scale, but I did take some measurements with a small tape measure. His heart/chest girth measurement was 50 inches behind the front shoulder. From the tip of his nose to the base of his tail was 58 inches. His hair color was almost like a silver-tipped grizzly bear. I would say a fair guess on his live weight was 325 pounds, maybe more. I could barely budge him to move him for photos.

Texas has too many hogs. Deer do not like sharing common ground with stinky, ill-tempered wild swine, especially around corn feeders. There are more hogs in that creek bottom, although they are sneaky and mostly move at night. I’m sure they will ruin another deer hunt for me in the future.

Now, back to hunting sweet November for those two exceptional bucks.