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"The Trip"
By: Sky Watkins
Well it all started this past March
with a phone call from my girlfriends father, David Duty.
He started the conversation with a smooth "how's it going"
just like he always does. Then he asked, "Hey you
think you might be able to go hunting with us in south
Texas?' Now I've seen David and "the guys" pack up and
head out on this trip for two years in a row, just hoping
that one day I'd get my chance. When you love hunting
as much as I do, watching those trucks and trailers pull
away over flowing with hunting gear, food, and four
wheelers, you wanna chase after em' like a jack russell on a
rabbits tail. "Heck Ya," I told him. I bet I
only bugged him about a thousand times the week before the
trip, asking what I should bring and what to expect. I
hadn't been this excited in quite some time.
I left College Station Friday at noon
with every bit of hunting gear I had. On the ride home
I jammed out to a little Merle Haggard and few of Uncle
Ted's huntin' tunes.
When I got there David and his son DJ
were already loading the trailer, so I jumped out and joined
in on the fun. I'm sure you all know a guy like David.
The man has everything ever invented. I knew going
with him meant we'd be well prepared, but what I didn't know
was that we could fit everything ever invented on a 16ft.
lowboy and one pickup...........but we did.
The plan was to head out the next day
but since David had to carry the mail, DJ and I had to wait
like two kids waiting on Santa until noon when he was
through with his mail route. We tried to pass the time
with a little Cabela's Big Game Hunter on the Nintendo Wii,
but it just couldn't hold our attention.
David got home at about 1:30 and due to
a last minute checklist and a little tire issue, we hit the
road at about 3:00. The destination was gonna be great
but dang, we had a long drive ahead of us. We were
headed down southwest of Laredo and there is not a shortcut
one to get there. To pass the time we did the same
thing any other group of guys would do. We told all
our old football war stories, watched 8 seconds on the DVD
player and sang along to a little Kevin Fowler.
It took us a while due to a couple
stops but after a few hours of driving we met up with two
more of "the guys" on the south side of San Antone. Ol'
Crazy Craig Stevenson and David Reed, also known as the
"Fish King" for his unmatched skills on Lake Belton, hopped
out of their truck to shake our hands at a little bbq shop
on the west side of I35. After 10 minutes of Craig
trying to scare the pants off DJ and I with rattlesnake
stories, we jumped back in the red Dodge and headed
southbound.
Our next stop was in Laredo at the
Wal-Mart to pick up some corn meal for the fish fry we were
planning on. With a guy named "Fish King" huntin' with
us on a 14,000 acre ranch with 26 lakes, there better be a
dadgum fish fry. David and DJ ran in the store while
the rest of us set around watching the night sky, making
predictions on what the weather was gonna do to the hunting.
All I can say is that I'm glad we were all wrong.
After the second trip David had to make back into Wal-Mart
to pick up some Ketchup that was forgotten, we headed back
down the road. An hour later down some of the worst
roads in Texas we pulled up to the gate and I stepped foot
on some dirty ranch soil that only the luckiest of men will
ever get the chance to touch.
30 minutes later through ranch and
oilfield roads we pulled up to a cinder block cabin, powered
by a generator, with a 40 ft. screened in porch for us to
lay our heads. At last, Home Sweet Home.
We finished unpacking at 3:00am and I'm
sure you're thinking we were dead tired. WRONG!!!
As soon as we were finished, David, DJ, and myself loaded up
the six seater Polaris Ranger with a high rack and runnin'
lights, strapped ourselves down with a 30x30, 30-06 and .243
and took out across 14,000 acres to stake out our land.
Or as others might call it, "make a corn route."
COME BACK
TOMORROW TO SEE PART 2 OF THE STORY.
The Ranger turned that first corner and it was off to the
races. Man, that think is fast. We headed down
the main road for about 3-4 miles before David told us we
were at the beginning of our route. Now we were still
out to kill but this first night was primarily for marking
our territory.
David has a feeder on the back of the
Ranger with a push button control in the front seat.
It's nice! What we'd do is drive through our mapped
area and hit that feeder button when we saw sign of pigs.
I may have failed to mention this earlier but the point of
this trip is to lay down some monster tuskers under the
moonlight without using artificial light. Sounds fun
huh? We never fired a shot that first night but I
could just tell that I was in for the hunt of a lifetime.
We pulled back up to the camphouse at about ten o'clock
the next morning. With our territory being so big and
also a couple encounters with coyotes, it took us quite a
while to make our rounds that first night. After a
quick bite to eat, we decided to take us a nap for a couple
hours before we headed back out. DJ and I couldn't
sleep very long so we sighted our bows in just incase we saw
a javelina in the daylight hours.
David was ready to roll at about 3:00
that afternoon and DJ and I were sitting on go. We
packed up the Ranger and headed back out, this time with
intentions of dropping the hammer on some ivory.
It didn't take very long at all before
we busted our first group of pigs. David told me I was
up. The object of this game is to spot some hogs a
good distance down the sendero, ease out of the Ranger, and
stalk as close as possible to assure yourself a kill shot.
Most of this takes place under the moon light but luckily
for me the sun had not even began to set.
At the beginning of the stalk, there
were three pigs at about 300 yards munchin' on some corn.
I slow walked the first 150 yards being very weary of a
nasty old rattler hiding in the cactus. At 150 out I
glassed again and could see they still had no idea I was
there. I thought to myself, "I need to get closer."
Dropping to my belly I army crawled another 75 and posted up
in the prone shooting position. I could see the pigs
clear as day, but I could also see two nice whitetail does
in my scope and knew this wasn't a safe shot. After
what seemed to be an eternity a little pinto gave me
a perfect broadside shot. BOOM!!! Nothing but feet
kicking and pig squeeling. I had hammered my first
animal with a gun in over 5 years. I was pumped.
 When we drove up to the pig he was
gorgeous in color but only about 100 lbs. and definitely no
what we were after. The best thing about this trip was
it was like the Golden Corral of hunting. Our only
rules were to be respectful and follow the state game laws,
which most of you know there's no limit on pigs. So we
loaded up the little porker and continued on our route.
As the sun went down, the pigs came up and they were
everywhere. We couldn't ease around a corner with out
the infamous, "Hey, there's one." We could've shot til'
we ran out of shells but the ultimate goal here was to put
one on the wall.
That night we chased some monsters all
over our area but were not able to throw one in the back of
the Ranger. There's a lot of people out there that
think pigs are dumb. Those same people don't have a
monster tusker hanging on their wall either. We'd
stalk up and get close in the pitch black of night and
before you could fire one off OL' Big Boy would be crashin'
through mesquite and cactus.
This type of hunting was a blast but it
wasn't easy by any means. With the exception of my
little red porker, we headed back to camp whipped and
tuskless. Crawling into bed I could only image what it
would feel like when it all came together and wouldn't be
long until I would find out...
COME BACK TOMORROW BECAUSE TUSK ARE
ABOUT TO START HITTIN' THE GROUND!
We got moving at about noon on Tuesday and sat around
listening to what everybody had been seeing around the
ranch. Another couple of our friends, John Tindel and
his daughter's boyfriend Robby, had arrived in camp the
evening before and they told us of Robby's success on his
first day in camp. From what I remember they were
using a Mule to run their route and when coming up to ol'
Tin Lake, Robby spotted a bruiser about 150 yrds ahead.
I'm not quite sure what happened next but I do know what
they brought back to camp with em. It was big, black,
and had lots of ivory. Just what everybody had been
looking for.
After hearing the story and seeing the monster, we
couldn't take it anymore. It was back to the Ranger
for another outing and tonight we weren't coming home empty
handed. We worked the ranch all day and DJ and I took
a couple "practice shots" on some smaller boars and a pretty
good sow.
I'm not sure if you guys have every had the opportunity
to hunt a place like this, but for me just riding the ranch
was a huge thrill. When they say, "everything in south
Texas sticks ya, stings ya, or bites ya," they aren't
kidding. We saw some of the coolest plants I had ever
laid eyes on riding around out there and the animals were in
abundance as well.
That night as the sun went down, we could tell it was
gonna be a good night. Skies were clear and you could
see a mile, literally. We had a couple spots on the
route that we just knew were gonna produce a monster.
One in particular was a little field on the south side of a
lake. The first couple days this field hadn't produced
but David had taken a tusker here before and knew there were
more in the area.
Photo taken at 10:00pm
At about 12:30 at night we pulled through a little gate
and parked the Ranger on the north side of the lake, below
the dam. When I say below, I mean below. Walking
below the dam meant the top of it was still six feet above
your head. This would prove to be very beneficial in
our stalking methods.
We eased out of the Ranger and made sure DJ had
everything he needed in case "the one" was in the field.
Moving slow and quiet we walked about 250 yards towards the
south end of the lake until we felt we were straight in line
with the front of the field. At this point everybody
was nervous but David took the binos and belly crawled to
the top of the dam. Within an instant of glassing,
David turned and motion for us to crawl on up. I knew
he must have seen a good one. He motioned with
excitement and there's not a whole lot that gets him real
excited.
When we got to the top I could already see the pig in the
field
because it was so light that night. This guy was huge and
there was no denying that DJ was about to get his first wall
hanger boar.
DJ laid down in the prone position and took the safety
off of his 30x30. After some heavy breathing and a
broadside turn by the pig, he let the saddle gun sing. GGRRRRR!!! The hog went nuts. He spun left,
whipped back around to the right, made complete circle, then
made toothpics out of adolescent mesquite trees as he made
his way towards the woods.
There were more hi-fives between the three of us than
after a little league baseball game. We were stoked!
This "night" hunting was new to DJ and I and had been giving
us a little trouble. Well, as we liked to say back at
the camp, "the worm had turned" and DJ was no longer a
rookie to "night" hunting.
After a couple minutes of searching we found a mesquite
tree snapped in two, covered in blood. Flashlight
left, nothing. Flashlight right, HUGE BOAR DOWN.
This thing was big, gnarly, and surprisingly clean of ticks.
We carefully place the boar in the back of the Ranger,
making sure not to brake off any part of his teeth, and
headed back to camp. Tuesday night was a success and the
trip would only get better...
COME BACK TOMORROW FOR PART THREE
AND CHECK OUT OUR FISHING SKILLS...
When we got out of bed on Wednesday we found out that
Craig and the Fish King had gone pond hoppin' around the
ranch. This was great because I was starving and if
they did well, we could have our fish fry we had all been
waiting on.
We set around talking to each other until we heard
the diesel pull back up. Once again the Fish King had
lived up to his name and he and Craig had loaded the boat.
After stories of where they caught em' and what they were
biting, we all jumped in and helped clean and prepare the
fish for the grease.
John had a real good fish batter recipe and this was an,
eat as they get ready, kind of fish fry. By the time
the last batch of fish and fries hit the table we were all
bloated and ready for another nap. Craig was the first
to go and DJ played a dirty underwear prank on him that will
never be forgotten.
After a few laughs it was lock and load time and back to
trails.
We drove on back to check out the same field DJ got his
monster in but nobody was home this evening. Checking
spot after spot we came to the conclusion that it was going
to be late before the big boys started moving.
Riding our route we found a pretty open field sitting
below another huge tank dam. Thinking this would be a
good spot to call a few predators, we shut down the Ranger
and pulled out the Jack in the Box. David loaded up
the .220 swift while DJ manned the assault shotgun and I ran
the spotlight. We sat up there for about 30-45 minutes
but nothing came to the dinner bell so we decided to go back
to chasing pigs.
Well into the night we hit a part of our route that was a
long winding stretch of sendero. When we made it to
the end we decided to take a left on the pipeline and go
check out a little secret spot we had. Nothing was at
the secret spot so we starting making our way back up the
pipeline and when we got back to that same sendero I could
see a pig about 300 yrds down there. The pig was all
by himself and this is usually a good sign if you are
hunting for big boars.
David stopped the Ranger and I loaded up the 30-06 while
DJ gathered the binoculars and the range finder. He
was gonna be my spotter on this stalk.
DJ and I determined the wind was blowing from left to
right so we took off down the right side of the sendero with
the intentions of pulling up within 100 yrds of the pig and
laying him down. Every so often we would kneel down so
DJ could range the yardage for us. As we got closer,
the pig kept getting bigger and bigger.
I'm not the type to usually get nervous but by now my
breathing was a little shaky and the old heart was sure
enough pumpin'. The next time DJ ranged we were at 86
yrds from the pig and it was go time.
I dropped to the prone position and told DJ to watch the
pig through the binos. If you don't drop em' in the
their tracks at 2:00 in the morning, with no light, it can
be kind of difficult to find exactly where they were
standing when you shot em'. DJ said he had him in view
so I eased up the rifle and took off the safety
As the pig turned I placed the red illuminated cross
hairs right on his neck and slowly squeezed one off.
The ol' 30-06 rang out and the next thing I hear is DJ
saying "He's dead right there man." I was ecstatic!
I have shot a lot of animals but very few could hold a
candle to this type of fun.
A quick wave to David and he was on his way with the
Ranger. "Did you get him?" He asked. "Oh ya." I
replied. "He fell dead in his tracks." DJ and I
hopped in and we drove the 86 yrds. up to my trophy and a
trophy he was.
He was just as big as I thought, maybe even bigger, and
DJ and I were pumped that we worked together to drop this
wooly booger. After a few pics with David's digital,
we decided to hide him in the brush and wait til' morning so
the Fish King could come out and take some photos with his
big Nikon.
We hunted a while longer but the weather started to
change on us and it went from about 85 to sleet in matter of
hours. Needless to say, the ride back into camp was
miserable but the experience we shared that night was well
worth it. And besides, we still had two more days!
COME BACK TOMORROW FOR A LITTLE
ARCHERY EQUIPMENT AND JAVELINAS!
When we woke up on
Thursday we decided that our time would be spent chasing
javelinas with our bows. There was a spot not far from
camp that Robby had taken one the day before but after a
couple surveys of the area, the javis' where no longer
there.
We had seen a couple out on the main ranch in daylight
hours so we decided to go run our route in hopes of a corn
rat popping out.
Our first round was simply a bait round. At the
completion of round one we turned down the pipeline road and
headed back towards the same sendero I had shot my big pig
at. There they were, three of them. They were
munching the corn so hard, we could hear the crunch from
100yrds. away.
DJ was up and he was determined to do this one all by
himself. He strapped on the release, knocked an arrow
on the Parker, and headed down the road. DJ knew he
was dead on out to 20yrds. but from where David and I were
sitting, it looked like he was gonna get close enough to
just stab one! Now apparently he thought he was a dead
eye because a quick glimpse through the binoculars showed
that he had only taken one arrow. This quickly earned
him the nickname of Barney Fife who was known for only
carrying one bullet.
DJ posted up behind an overhanging mesquite tree just
11yrds. away from the javis'. As he drew and began to
settle his pin, a larger javelina came out of the brush,
right beside him. Ol' Barney turned and let one fly.
All we could see was a mad dash of corn rats and a ton of
dust.
DJ made his way back to where we had parked the Ranger
and told us the news. "I think I hit him in the foot."
he said. David and I laughed. "The foot!" we
replied. "You just missed. You didn't hit him in
the foot." We sat around making our jokes and laughing
together until the good Lord really dropped down a bit of
humor. I slight rustle in the brush gets our attention
and we glance back toward the sendero. Out of the
brush walks what appears to be a 200 year old javelina,
hobbling across the sendero like Festus off of Gunsmoke.
"I told y'all I hit him in the foot." DJ said. "You
weren't kidding." we replied. And the laughs continued.
As we drove away, still laughing, we went through a big
draw that came back up to a large peak. From the peak
we could see a single javelina 400yrds. away, working
towards us. It was my chance now and I wanted one of
these so bad I could taste it. I had never shot a javi
with bow before and I dang sure didn't wanna leave this
place without one.
I didn't wanna pull a Barney Fife but I also didn't have
my quiver, so I got DJ to follow behind me with my second
arrow. This was gonna be the hardest stalk I had ever
attempted, but I was more than ready for the challenge.
We stayed down the right side of the road trying to make
as little noise as possible. That's a lot easier said
than done, when everything out there is ROCK! My goal
was to make it 100yrds. at a time and then quiet down for a
second. The javi looked to be enjoying the corn so I
felt confident that I could get with 100yrds. before I had
to be in super stealth mode.
My last range was 88yrds. out and I told DJ to stay there
with the second area and be ready incase I needed him.
My thought was two feet were more quiet than four, if I was
gonna get in close on this thing. I cut back into the
brush keeping an eye on the corn rat the whole time.
Finally I found a clearing that carried a shooting lane out
to the road. I set up there about 10yrds. off the road
and waited for the javelina to make his move. As his
feet broke past the last bit of mesquite in my way, I drew
back and patiently held for the perfect shot.
His last step put his shoulder dead on my pin and with a
smooth squeeze of my release, I sent a Striker right through
the boiler room. He jumped, and to my amazement came
right back at me. This dang javelina was now standing
three yards from me with a look of death in his eyes and no
arrows in my hand. What'd I do? I turned the ol'
Mathews into a sword real fast and hoped that I didn't have
to use it. After a brief stare off he ran over to a
tree and laid down. I walked out to the road and
motioned for DJ and my other arrow. I knew the rat was
gonna die but I wanted him on the wall and wasn't taking any
chances on him getting a second wind and running off.
DJ came trotting through the brush and apparently this
was all the javi needed to get his second wind. Ha!
He jumped up looking at DJ with those gnarly ol' teeth
chompin' away. My hunter instinct was to take the
arrow and shoot him again, but my mind was thinking, if his
thing charges I sure am glad I'm faster than DJ.
Fortunately I went with the hunters instinct and put the
second arrow right down the side of his neck and into the
important stuff. He dropped like a bag of bricks and
DJ and I could now take this moment of relief to check our
pants.
David brought the Ranger up and we all did a thorough
examination of this old, gnarly, pretty much gorgeous
javelina. He was my first javi with a bow and
definitely a trophy. After we told David how it all
went down and took a few snapshots, we loaded him up in the
Ranger and headed back to camp.
The weather turned miserable that night and we decided to
just get some rest and try it again in the morning.
Tomorrow we would be a new day and weather permitting, Ol'
Barney Fife would get a second chance at a javi.
COME BACK TOMORROW FOR THE LAST DAY
AT THE JARAD RANCH!
Today was Friday and our last day at the ranch. We
still needed to get DJ another shot at a javelina so we
loaded up the Ranger and headed out once again. We
heavily baited the spot Robby shot his at because apparently
the javi's camped out around that area. We also took
the long drive down to where Barney had injured Festus the
day before.
We hunted long and hard that morning but the animals were
on to us. It didn't matter where we looked, the
javelinas weren't coming out to play. We did pull up
to an old oil rig one time though and DJ put a hurting on
some King Jack Rabbits. Somehow I kind of think he had
as much fun chasing those rabbits as he did the javelinas.
I guess its just an archery thing. The thrill of the
chase and release of the arrow is the true trophy to a
bowhunter and DJ displayed that with his rabbit hunting
skills.
Although nothing big was killed that morning we were able
to see some parts of the ranch that we hadn't got to travel
before. This place was huge and home to some of the
prettiest creatures God placed on Earth.
We rolled back into camp and we all knew what time it
was. This was the worst part of the trip. We
began packing up our clothes and everything else we had
strung out over the past week, all the while trying to talk
ourselves into staying just one more day. This is the
kind of place you really wouldn't mind being trapped at for
a few extra days.
The group gathered round and the Fish King set up the
camera to take a final picture of the best hog hunting
experience of my life. We all let each other know how
much fun we had and how we couldn't wait to get back next
year.
We were the last one's to roll out of camp and all the
way down that long, bumpy, road, I felt like a kid who
wanted to sprint back to grandma's house and play just one
more day. When we got to the gate I knew it was
official and with one swift click of the lock, the Jarad
Ranch was now at my back and 8 hours of open road in my
face.
We hit the highway with two things on our mind, food and
a taxidermist. We found food in the small town of
Lytle, a little north of Pearsall. I decided I would
show DJ how to eat some real Mexican food and order up an
assortment of authentic tacos. When the waitress
brought em' out I bragged a little more and sunk my teeth
into that first bite.
This now had quickly become the worst part of the trip
because my mouth was on fire like never before and it was
useless to continue eating seeing how my taste buds were
gone. Needless to say my stomach took the brunt of
this mistake and I paid for it for about three days.
All in all DJ and David got a great laugh out of it so I
guess it was worth it.
We pulled back into the house at about 12:30 at night and
were so tired we didn't even bother with our bags. My
ultimate hunting experience had quickly come to an end but I
had hopefully secured my spot as "one of the guys" for next
year.
It's tough to find two better hunting buddies than David
and DJ, and because of them I will never forget, "The Trip."
THE END. |
