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.

Success in Sonora

by Craig Ellwanger, AAE

There are hundreds and hundreds of hunting stories where everything just seems to come together perfectly (just watch the last 10 minutes of most hunting shows).  The perfect stand, the perfect wind, the perfect time of year, and then the perfect deer walks out…BOOM.  Story’s over.   Yet, for most of us, events seldom transpire this way.  Hours, days, and even seasons worth of seemingly “perfect” set-ups may go by without the epic crescendo of a successful harvest.  Our hunt in Sonora, Texas on the Diamond TF Ranch this past weekend was one of the best few days of my short bowhunting career, but it definitely did not start out nor appear as though it was headed that way.  Here’s the unlikely story of how a friendly game of poker taught me to be a better bowhunter.

This story really beings on the night before our hunt.  A friend from worked invited myself and a handful of guys to play some low-stakes poker.  Though we play for fun and with very little at stake, you would be surprised at what losing money can do to some grown men.  My ride to the poker game was my good friend Josh Foley, who over the course of the night had one of the luckiest streaks that I had ever witnessed at a card table.  It seemed no matter the hand or situation Josh came out victorious.  With a combination of random hands he mowed us down one by one all night, winning 3 of the 4 mini-touneys (and placing 2nd in the other).  It got to the point that I had a feeling that had I even been dealt pocket aces (the best staring hand in poker), Josh would rake the pot with a 7-2 off (the worst).  I watched, sometimes first-hand, as his “pitiful” hands dominated much more favorable starting hands time after time.   Little did I know then, that thoughts of Josh’s “lucky streak” would stay with me long into my weekend deer hunt.

November 6th found me skipping town before well before the lunch hour rush. It would be a race against time to make the Friday evening hunt.  The long drive from East to West Texas was spent constantly checking the arrival time on the GPS to see if I was still on pace to arrive in time to scurry into the stand and sit during waning light.  I had already mentally mapped out my strategy for the night.  “Alright, I’m slated to arrive at 4:07, I can be in the stand my 4:15…”.  Hunting time would be at a premium, so I even found ways to shave minutes off by changing clothes in the truck and refusing to stop needlessly.  With only one pit stop and a little help from the increased speed limit on I-10, I patted myself on the back for pulling in to the ranch only 15 minutes behind schedule.  “I made it!”  That’s when my plan began to unravel.

As I pulled in to the Diamond TF Ranch, I spotted a roaring tractor in the field just south of my evening stand’s location.  Mr. Fields was cutting hay some 150 yards from where I planned to sit!  Not ideal, but I was here, so “let’s see what happens”, I thought to myself as I parked the truck. I still remained optimistic. Then, just as I flung open the truck door to head to the field, I felt a harsh wind hit me square in the back.  “Oh no, the wind is completely wrong!”  In the first 5 minutes of my hunt I was facing two major issues that were definitely not part of my precisely outlined plan.

As I hurried to the stand, I stopped to pour a small pile of deer corn 20 yards from my tripod stand.  Getting settled in, I ranged shooting lanes and checked the wind again.  It was still blowing straight from me to the food plot that many of the deer utilize.  I could see and hear the tractor as it continued cutting hay in the distance.  Moments later, the first deer appeared.  It was a whitetail doe with two fawns in tow.  The doe came straight to the pile of corn on my upwind side while her fawns wandered off to feed.  This was a very good sign.

For the next hour, I watched in amazement as deer after deer filed through the gate and past my stand, some stopping to nibble on a few nuggets of sweet corn.  The deer seemed oblivious to the running tractor just across the fence.  After seeing close to 30 deer from my stand (half of those in bow range), I sat satisfied as light began to fade that deer activity was seemingly unaffected by my pre-hunt issues.  Then, just as I was beginning to pack up I saw tall, white horns walking straight through the gate.  It was a group of axis and the buck was a definite shooter!

Turning completely around, with eyes wide and chest thumping, I readied myself for a possible shot.  As long as the group took either of the 2 trails that led past my stand a chip shot was inevitable.  Seconds later, my heart sank as the first axis doe emerged on the trail that led toward a small pond nearby, away from me and out of bow range.  The rest of the axis, including the big buck, followed.  The night came to a close with the sight and sounds of the buck vigorously raking  the low-hanging limbs of a large oak tree 100 yards away.  “Sooo close”, I told myself in bitter frustration.  Of the three trails, they had chosen the one that would not allow a shot.  The odds of getting a shot had been in my favor, for sure, but never materialized.  That, my friends, is hunting.

The morning of day two had me excited to get into a pop-up blind that Tanner Fields and I had set-up on our previous trip.  Trail cam pictures since our last visit had revealed several good whitetail bucks, long beard turkeys, and a few axis.  The blind is nestled in the perfect cocoon of cover with ample shooting lanes and located in an area with tons of deer activity.  It would be the first time anyone had hunted this stand and my anticipation level was sky high.

As I clumsily navigated my way through unfamiliar terrain under moon light, I spooked several deer that loudly, made themselves known.  Bumping deer in the dark happens often, but it never ceases to startle and frustrate almost simultaneously.  When I approached the large cedar that I swore hid the blind, I could not see the dark mass or arching silhouette  of a pop-up.  Mentally retracing my path and peering feverishly, I finally found it…folded in half and laying on the ground!  If you’ve ever tried to setup a pop-up blind in thick cover silently, forget about it.  I felt like I was scratching nails on a chalkboard in an empty auditorium.  Animals seemed to be sensing my presence the entire morning and alerting the rest of the county to my hiding spot.  I even had a couple donkeys wander close to my blind and start their “hee-haw” song.  I gave up on the morning sit having only seen a single 5 point whitetail and a lone doe.

I met Tanner back at the ranch house to formulate a new plan for the rest of the morning.  We decided to try a deer drive on another part of the ranch.  This strategy had worked several times in years past in efforts to get up close and personal with evading whitetails and axis.  As I walked to get into position I thought back to the last few attempts at this same strategy that had resulted in absolutely no deer.  Had we gone to the well one too many times?  Had the deer gotten smart to our plan and relocated their hangout?

Getting settled in, it was only a few moments before I would see the first deer head bobbing through the brush toward me.  It was a group of whitetail does, the biggest of which ran directly at me, coming to a screeching halt upon seeing a strange figure kneeling between the two trees she seemed to be heading straight for.  Moments later I saw the first axis emerge.  It was a young buck in velvet that was leading 7 other axis of various sizes and sexes.  I feverishly tried to scan the group for a shooter as they ran right at me.  I quickly realized that the group held no large bucks just in time to watch them file by me at a mere 5 yards.  What a rush!  As I turned and watched the group jump a cross fence and head up the hill, I was certain this was it for the push.  I would see my partner heading toward me any second signaling the end of the effort.  Just then, I caught movement off to my right.  It was a straggler.  A big axis buck had held back and taken a different route than the rest of his party.  I watched as he trotted down the fenceline, stopping every few yards to look back toward the intruder to his hideout.  I knew I had a shooting lane above me at 27 yards, along the path the buck was heading.   As he neared the opening, he stopped again, his vitals protected by a tree trunk.  “Two more steps”, I begged.  Then, he took off again.  With my Mathews bow already drawn, I let out a quick bleet and got him to pause momentarily to check the source of the odd sound.  Finding his chest in my peep, I touched off the arrow.  Simultaneously, the buck took off and I watched in horror as my arrow hit behind the intended target.  A bright red starburst was evident as the buck angled back down the hill past me and over another cross fence some 50 yards away.  As he disappeared out of sight, I heard him crashing through the dense brush in the large creek bed below.

Tanner appeared from the tree line as I silently motioned that I had released an arrow.  He had seen the buck as well and had even tried to get a shot with his rifle, but his attempt was thwarted by the thick brush.  I told him that I didn’t feel great about the shot, but we were encouraged upon finding really good blood near the spot the buck was standing.  The decision was made to give the buck plenty of time to expire as we snuck back to the truck.  My thought ping-ponged as we went about filling feeders and staying occupied with other ranch work to pass some time.  I must have replayed the events and the shot in my head 50 times over the next two and a half hours.

Finally, we returned to the spot and began to follow the blood trail.  Twenty yards from our starting point, I found my arrow, covered in thick red blood.  The blood trail was like nothing I’d seen before.  “I must have hit a major artery”, I thought.  Hopping the fence where I had last seen the buck and zig-zagging through some thick stuff, my prayers were answered and relief set in as the buck lay just across the dry creek bed.  He hadn’t gone 100 yards and was probably dead before I motioned to  Tanner that I had shot him.  What an absolute thrilling feeling!

After dressing the deer, he got the tour of the ranch, showing him off to the Fields’ family and taking countless pictures.  The buck scored 126 & 6/8, qualifying him for the SCI record books for archery or gun.

As I made the drive home Sunday night, with my deer safely in the hands of Old Friends Taxidermy in San Angelo, I couldn’t help but think back a few days earlier to that night at the poker table.   A friend’s lucky streak had taught me a few valuable lessons and might just help you on your next hunting trip:  1.) you will never kill anything if you “fold your cards” – no matter how bad things appear to look in the beginning, 2.) when nothing is working, you may have to change your strategy to find success, 3.) it’s not about the hand you’re dealt, it’s how you play that hand that counts  and 4.) even a 7-2 beats aces when the cards fall your way!

Thanks again to the Fields family and Diamond TF Ranch for an amazing trophy and an awesome hunt to remember.

Day1
I have to admit to sneaking out of town a bit early from work in hopes of making the Friday evening hunt.  The 300 mile journey across the state from College Station to Sonora flew by despite pouring rains and a lack of satellite radio in “The Beast” (our beloved, but grizzled ’99 Dodge 4×4).  Arriving at just after 4:30, I greeted Mr. Fields, who was headed to call some Friday night football for the Sonora Broncos.  If you ever saw Friday Night Lights and said there’s no way high school football is THAT big in Texas, think again.

I, on the otherhand, was headed to check trail cams and scout/hunt the “big field” next to the highway that seems to hold deer virtually all day, rain or shine.  On my route to gather SD cards I passed 6 axis does and fawns and a blackbuck already feeding in another field nearby.  Enthusiasm rose.  With my trusted Mathews DXT in tow, I was headed to the stand and ready for my season to begin.

P.M. – After much deliberation, I decided to sit in a large, homeade box blind along the fenceline of the big field that also overlooks the large draw that runs the length of the ranch.  Deer movement was surprisingly slow.  I did see the “3-legged doe” milling around near the corner of the field (a deer seen regularly last year that walks very awkwardly but has no issues getting around).  Come to find out, the “doe” is now a 1.5 year old buck, sporting 2 long spikes.  Oops, sorry buddy.  Two whitetail does and 4 fawns kept me entertained, hanging around and feeding in the draw most of evening.  I watched as the oldest doe bedded down 40 yards from me and stay there for almost a half hour.  As the night wound down, she finally stood up and headed toward me and the field.  Knocking an arrow, I anticipated the small possibility of a shot through the blind’s smallest window (about 1 foot x 1 foot).  As luck would have it, she came into the shooting lane perfectly. With my eyes widened and in my haste to pull off the improbable shot, I watched as  my lumenok sailed straight over the doe’s back.  She ran 50 yards and went along with her day, feeding within a stone’s throw of the blind.  Hunting for day 1 was over.  I spent the waning light searching for more deer entering the field, catching a glimpse at last light of a group of axis bucks on the opposite side, some 600 yards away.

Tanner arrived later that night.  We went through trail cam pics and began planning for the next two days.  A few quick pop-up setups and sprinkled corn and we were done for the night with a couple hours to sleep before the first morning hunt.

Day 2
Saturday A.M. – As I got settled in to a pop-up that had only been in place for a few hours, I had no idea what to expect.  The blind was nestled into a small oak motte some 20 yds from a main ranch road and an inoperable open gate that many deer had been spotted using to travel from one field to another.  Corn was sprinkled on the road in hopes of buying a few more seconds should anything pass through the opening.  Fifteen minutes before shooting light I spotted a large body making it’s way from my right toward the road.  Through my binoculars I could make out the long main beam of a large axis buck.  He circled directly in front of my position and in the dim light I could see this was a shooter.  He fed briefly, but as quick as he had come he was gone.  The buck made his way straight away from me down toward the main draw.  Bummer.

As the sun lit up the fields activity was at a standstill.  I had a lone two year old blackbuck come down the fenceline behind me.  He stuck around long enough for me to get some good video before he turned and headed back from whence he came.

Tanner had planned to get out of our blinds at 9 o’clock and head to a facing hillside to attempt a light push.  This tactic had been successful numerous times last year in the same location.  A big axis buck with a broken main beam was calling the area home and walked within 15 yards of my waiting position on more than one occasion in the past.  We hoped his tendencies had remained the same, but when Tanner appeared walking my way, the disappointment was hard to keep off my face.  The drive had resulted in a few whitetails, some turkeys, and only 2 axis does.

Late morning and early afternoon were spent moving stands, trimming shooting lanes and replacing trail cam memory cards.  One spot that got me excited was a tripod we placed near a small field close to the house.  Friday night, in my truck’s headlights, I watched as a group of axis, with 3 really good bucks, jumped across the road and into the field closest to the ranch house.  We just needed to figure out how to catch them on their travel route there before sunset.  This newly placed stand location looked to be that place.

P.M. -  I was late getting into my stand that afternoon (good football games will do that to you).  My tardiness became ever apparent upon walking out the front door of the house to gather my gear.  We spotted deer already munching in the field and around my stand.  Not Good.  I slowly, hurried (anyone who spot & stalk hunts understands) to get in my tripod.  Goal — spook as few deer as possible doing so.  While creeping toward my perch for the night, I spotted a large axis bedded down on the hill across and above the field only a couple hundred yards away.  As I watched from a distance, planning my next move, he stood up.

“Great, he’s headed into the field already and I am definitely not there yet.”

Luck was on my side, however, as he quickly laid back down and began to grooming himself.  I finished my slow stalk and scurried into the stand, only spooking one doe with a couple of tag-along fawns.  Because the tree I was in was thick and only had a few carefully selected shooting lanes, the bedded axis buck was out of my sight no matter how hard I torqued my body and squinted my eyes from the tripod.

Action picked up immediately.  Whitetails and axis were streaming by me seemingly continuously from the word “go”.  I counted 14 whitetails and 8 axis pass within bow range in the first hour of my sit.  I had one 2 year old eight point whitetail buck pass only 5 yards from my stand!  As light began to fade, the large axis bucks had yet to show.

“Maybe I’m not far enough off the field”, I thought to myself.

Just as doubt began to set in, out of nowhere, two big axis stepped out, walking inside the fence to my left.  I was already standing, bow in hand, when the lead buck stopped to peek in a feed barrel.  Having bone-headedly left my rangefinder in the truck, I guessed the distance to be close to 50 yards – too far for a shot.  I watched as they made their way off the field through another open gate that we suspected deer may utilize.  Watching them walk away, I was startled by a third axis buck “groaning” abruptly and directly behind me.  He was a much smaller axis, probably 2 years old, and had me pegged.  I turned my attention to him and we did a little dance – him to try and make out what was in that tree and me to attempt to keep a tree limb between us at all times.  Eventually, he was content and moved right past me and along the path the larger bucks had taken toward the house field.  After dark, I climbed down thinking what might have been if my blind was 40 yards to the East.  Hunting on day 2 was over.

Day 3
Sunday A.M.- I couldn’t help but go back to the same stand from the evening before for the morning hunt. Could you blame me?  Would the morning activity come close to the action 12 hours before?  It didn’t take long to realize that it, in fact, would not.  A few whitetail does and fawns came into the field just after sunrise to feed, but no axis crossed my path.  I heard several axis bucks sparring in the clearing a couple hundred yards behind me, but never caught sight of any of the combatance.  My weekend hunt came to an end without an arrow flung at an axis.  However, we were very encouraged by all of the sightings and close calls.  The axis population seemed to be even bigger and healthier than the previous year.

Plans have already been made to make the trip again in a few weeks.  Another chance to prove that we can outsmart those elusive axis deer.  I don’t know why, but the drive home after a much anticipated hunting trips always seems twice as long as the trip there.  Most of the time was passed thinking of what might have been or how things could have been different.  The ‘what ifs’ will have to be answered in another hunt.

I would like to thank the Fields for allowing us to enjoy time at their beautiful ranch.  I can’t wait to try it once again come November.

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