All About Exotics

“Hoggin’ It” in Brazos County

by Craig Ellwanger, AAE

The author w/ his first hog by bow

There will be lots of  landowners and lease holders out there cussin’ out loud right now at the slightest peep or thought of a “nasty ol’ hog” story. If that’s you, simply turn away.  For the rest of you, here is a “pig-tale” of  an east Texas archery hog hunt.

Whether it’s the introduced Russian boar or the common “yard pig” turned wild hog, hunting for these barrel-shaped balls of destruction has become as much necessity as sport in Texas.  Their ability to proliferate induces thoughts of a famous ESPN quote that goes something like “…you can’t stop ‘em…you can just hope to contain ‘em!”

A good friend of mine, Chris Farris, hunts a piece of property just outside of Bryan/College Station in Brazos County.  Wanting to improve their resident deer herd and with a wild hog population on the brink of taking over, I was invited to try and assist in harvest efforts.  Being the noble sportsman that I am, I would never scoff at the chance to help a fellow hunter with some population control – especially when the reward for doing so includes bacon and thick pork chops!

The land they hunt is primarily open savannah woven with thick mottes of post oak trees.  Fifteen feet up in one of these oaks, overlooking a few cut lanes, would be my vantage point for all four attempts to get my first “porker” with my Mathews bow.  This was my first experience bow hunting from a tree stand and growing up in west Texas, where any tree over 8 feet tall stands out like skyscraper, I have to admit this was a bit of a thrill for me.

On the inaugural drive to the property I knew I was in trouble when Chris uttered the statement “you should see something…I’ve seen hogs everytime I’ve sat in this stand.”  My fear of the “jinx” was on and quickly realized on my first sit.  Though I heard hogs rustling in the super thick brush that nestled up to the backside of my tree, no hogs materialized.  Having hogs that close did, however, get my blood pumping and left a taste in my mouth that I had to get rid of.

The next two sits, spaced a few days to a week apart, would play out much like the first.  I was getting frustrated.  I had heard pigs within what seemed like 20 yards, but something inevitably kept them from venturing out of the thick cover and into my shooting lanes.  It wasn’t the wind (it blew in a different direction each day).  It shouldn’t be my scent (I was doused from head to toe in scent killer) and it wasn’t noise or movement (I’ve never sat so still…).  These critters were getting the best of me and I needed to flip the odds back in my favor.  Time to bring out the “big guns”!  I had a single bag of deer corn that was left in the bed of our hunting truck since the end of deer season (yikes).  If you’ve ever smelled soured corn, you know it’s about the foulest stench south of…well, maybe south of nothing.  The good news, hogs can’t get enough of the stuff.

With stinkin’ corn scattered around me, I really felt the temptation would prove too much for a hungry hog to resist.  My gut was right and on my fourth hunt from the same stand, about half an hour before dark, I heard the familiar sound of hooves traipsing straight toward me.

Finally, after squinting so many times into the dense vegetation behind, I made out the forms of 2 black piglets leading a pack of hogs to the base of my tree.  As they hesitated just on the edge of the clearing, a larger hog filtered past them from a conjoining trail and walked straight away from me to a small corn pile.  I knew he wasn’t the biggest hog in the oncoming group, but after 3 frustrating sits with no sightings I wasn’t going to squander the opportunity.  At just under 20 yards, I took aim and released the arrow.  My shot hit high, dropping the hog where he stood.  A quick follow-up shot finished the job and I breathed a sigh of relief that my mission was accomplished.

As I climbed down and walked toward the downed hog, he actually seemed to grow at each passing step.  What I originally thought was an “overgrown piglet”, turned out to be a decent-sized boar hog.  Elation set in as I waited for Chris’ son, Jared to pick me up.  I was finally the rightful owner of a cooler full of tasty pork chops.

A special thanks goes out to Chris and Jared Farris for helping me get my first hog with stick and string.