Now…fast forward to somewhere around the early 2000’s. Somewhere, somehow and in some way, I came into possession of two Kentucky percussion muzzleloaders, similar to what Daniel Boone used to slay a “bar”. You’ve seen them in movies about the Civil War. Stand the rifle upright, pour black powder down the barrel, insert a bullet (usually a round lead ball) and shove it down the barrel with your ramrod. Then you either pour powder in a “pan” for flintlocks or place a primer cap on the nipple in the case of a percussion rifle.
Anyway, I now had two identical rifles to play with. I took them to the shooting range many times to have fun punching holes in paper targets. After a while, primal urges began to stir inside my body and I started watching the Pursuit Channel and Outdoor TV every chance I got, which was every time Claudia wasn’t home and I didn’t have anything solid to do. I started hunting vicariously through television shows.
May 28, 2009 was a special day for me…my 70th birthday! After much research and very little thought, I asked for gift cards to Cabella’s to buy a brand new, highly recommended Thompson Center Omega 50 caliber muzzleloader. Everyone came through and I soon had my rifle. I started collecting all the “stuff” one needs when one shoots this type of weapon and soon filled a 5-gallon bucket and a fishing tackle box. Let the fun begin!
I spent a lot of time going to the shooting range out in El Cajon. It seems that only a VERY few ranges allow black powder shooting. First of all, most shoot pure lead bullets…read “TOXIC”. Secondly, they shoot black powder. When the gun goes off, there is a huge white smoke cloud that pours out of the front end of the gun. Al Gore would not approve. After several sessions at the range, I had worked up loads for several different bullets in case I ever actually got to go hunt for something. I had loads worked up for ground squirrels to elk and everything in between.
I had several conversations with Jeff, my Texas-based son-in-law, about hunting hogs. REAL hunters refer to this as a “hog hunt”. “Hogs” sounds fiercer than “pigs”, which are barnyard animals, not fierce wild animals with huge razor-sharp tusks that will rip you apart if they charge you.
Sometime around the middle of 2010, we started talking in earnest about me flying to Texas for a hunt. Around September or October, I got a great price on an air flight to Texas and started planning. Unfortunately, Jeff was having problems at work that required his full attention so the hog hunt was off, at least for now.
I happened to be playing on my computer one day (so what’s new?) and hit on a website about hunting hogs at Camp Roberts, an Army National Guard base north of Paso Robles. They were offering a “pigs only” hunt in November and I started planning for that one. I called my shooting buddies to see if they wanted to go. One said “yes” and the other was “no”. “Yes” and I were going to go up in the motorhome and stay in the RV park on the base for $10 a night for FULL HOOKUPS! We were going up on Thursday, scout on Friday and hunt Saturday and Sunday. Deal done…right? Nope! “Yes” turned to “No” due to a schedule conflict. Rats! Oh well, I would go alone. Claudia then decided that I would NOT go alone. I re-thought my position and decided not to go.
Claudia then suggested a guided hunt instead, since this would be my first hunt in a long time and my first-ever hog hunt. I scoured the Internet again and found a guide up in San Miguel, just south of Camp Roberts. His bio sounded good and I made the call. Everything was fine until he said that his minimum hunt was for two hunters. I had only me! I asked if he ever got singles that wanted to hunt. His answer was that it was strange I should ask. He had another single asking the same thing just last night and asked me if he could give the other hunter my name and phone number. I said “sure” and we hung up. Five minutes later, the phone rang.
Now this gets interesting, so pay attention. The other hunter’s name was also Jerry. He, like me, was a retired cop. He was 75. I am 71. He shoots a muzzleloader and so do I, although on this hunt, he was going to shoot a 30-06, a “normal” hunting rifle. We hit it off and decided to book a hunt. I booked it the following morning. We decided on November 1-3 for the dates.
Now, San Miguel is up in “condor country”. Kalofornica has decreed that hunters must use non-lead bullets when hunting within the condor range. This is to keep condors from getting sick from eating lead bullets that might be found in the gut pile of a freshly field-dressed animal. Now, there has NEVER been ANY documentation of this happening BUT, on the teenie weeniest, micro-miniscule possibility of this happening, the law was passed and is now in effect. This meant that I had to go back to the range for more shooting to work up a load for a non-lead bullet. Oh darn! After a bit of research, I settled on the Barnes Expander MZ bullet, an all-copper hollow point expanding bullet. I ordered some and was soon back at the range. My best pattern was shot using 100 grains of powder, about two tablespoons of the black stuff.
I was ready to go! Sleep was not coming easy!
On October 31st, I packed up the truck and drove to Jerry’s house in Santa Clarita to spend the night. He and his wife, Annabelle, welcomed me with coffee and a slice of cherry pie. We talked, reminisced, told hunting and cop stories and finally went to bed around nine. I actually slept pretty well that night, despite being totally wired.
The next morning, November 1st, Jerry (the other Jerry) and I headed for San Miguel. After a three-something-hour drive, we pulled into the hunting cabin, our home for the next three days. Bert Claassen, our guide and outfitter, met us at the cabin and got us all settled in.
On October 31st, I packed up the truck and drove to Jerry’s house in Santa Clarita to spend the night. He and his wife, Annabelle, welcomed me with coffee and a slice of cherry pie. We talked, reminisced, told hunting and cop stories and finally went to bed around nine. I actually slept pretty well that night, despite being totally wired.
The next morning, November 1st, Jerry (the other Jerry) and I headed for San Miguel. After a three-something-hour drive, we pulled into the hunting cabin, our home for the next three days. Bert Claassen, our guide and outfitter, met us at the cabin and got us all settled in.
The cabin has one main room with a sofa, dining table, chairs and kitchen. Two bedrooms with a bathroom between are behind the main room. It was quaint and comfortable. We had a few hours to kill before the evening hunt so we took out Jerry’s 22 rifle and proceeded to kill a couple of ground squirrels and scare many more.
At 5:00 pm, Bert showed up in his Jeep and we took off to a vantage point atop a hill to watch the alfalfa fields where the hogs had been rooting. We saw a bunch of fresh rooting spots and several deer, but no hogs. When it was too dark to shoot, we came back to the cabin for the night.
The next day, we got up at the ungodly hour of four-thirty, had breakfast and got ready for the “morning hunt”. Bert picked us up at 5:30 and we went to a riverbed to sit and watch. Again, nothing showed up. After a while, we got into the Jeep and started to slowly drive the roads on the ranch. We saw more fresh rooting and more deer, including several bucks, but no hogs. We returned to the cabin for lunch, a nap and more squirrel target practice. At 5:00 pm, we set out again. This time, I sat on a riverbed by the alfalfa fields and Bert took Jerry (the other Jerry) to a hill to glass for hogs. I was leaning against a live oak tree at the top of the bank above the creek. It was beautiful! I spent the time texting the grandkids and listening to a couple of hoot owls making music. Beautiful and peaceful, but no hogs…again!
The next morning, Wednesday, our final day, we headed back to the creek bottom. Bert did a bunch of glassing and walking the edges of the alfalfa. Again, no luck. Bert had seen two sows way up in the oaks, but they had a bunch of small piglets with them so they were off-limits. We hopped in the jeep and started a slow cruise. About 8:45, we slowly rounded a bend and spotted a huge hog lying against a tree, sound asleep.
Jerry (the other Jerry) and I had previously agreed that I would shoot (at) any hog that was less than 75 yards and he, shooting a 30-06 on this hunt, would take any shot over 75 yards. Bert quickly stopped the Jeep and looked through the rangefinder. 59 yards! My shot! I sat up on the rear seat and laid the rifle over the padded roll bar. I settled the crosshair of the scope right behind the shoulder and slowly squeezed the trigger. The rifle roared and the pig was obliterated with a cloud of white smoke. As the smoke cleared, I saw the pig start running to the left and stumble badly…a good sign. He made a right turn and started up the hill…a bad sign. He then turned right and took off along the side of the hill at a pretty good clip. Bert yelled to “Hang on” and gunned the Jeep. We flew down the road a couple of hundred feet and saw the pig. Bert slammed on the brakes, grabbed his rifle and snapped off a quick shot. The pig disappeared in the trees, still running. I was sick at the prospect of possibly missing the shot or losing the pig altogether.
We drove another hundred yards or so and stopped. There was nothing in sight. I was sicker! After a few minutes of glassing, Bert announced that he “might” see the pig. He wasn’t sure, but it looked like a pig lying against a tree up on the hill.
At 5:00 pm, Bert showed up in his Jeep and we took off to a vantage point atop a hill to watch the alfalfa fields where the hogs had been rooting. We saw a bunch of fresh rooting spots and several deer, but no hogs. When it was too dark to shoot, we came back to the cabin for the night.
The next day, we got up at the ungodly hour of four-thirty, had breakfast and got ready for the “morning hunt”. Bert picked us up at 5:30 and we went to a riverbed to sit and watch. Again, nothing showed up. After a while, we got into the Jeep and started to slowly drive the roads on the ranch. We saw more fresh rooting and more deer, including several bucks, but no hogs. We returned to the cabin for lunch, a nap and more squirrel target practice. At 5:00 pm, we set out again. This time, I sat on a riverbed by the alfalfa fields and Bert took Jerry (the other Jerry) to a hill to glass for hogs. I was leaning against a live oak tree at the top of the bank above the creek. It was beautiful! I spent the time texting the grandkids and listening to a couple of hoot owls making music. Beautiful and peaceful, but no hogs…again!
The next morning, Wednesday, our final day, we headed back to the creek bottom. Bert did a bunch of glassing and walking the edges of the alfalfa. Again, no luck. Bert had seen two sows way up in the oaks, but they had a bunch of small piglets with them so they were off-limits. We hopped in the jeep and started a slow cruise. About 8:45, we slowly rounded a bend and spotted a huge hog lying against a tree, sound asleep.
Jerry (the other Jerry) and I had previously agreed that I would shoot (at) any hog that was less than 75 yards and he, shooting a 30-06 on this hunt, would take any shot over 75 yards. Bert quickly stopped the Jeep and looked through the rangefinder. 59 yards! My shot! I sat up on the rear seat and laid the rifle over the padded roll bar. I settled the crosshair of the scope right behind the shoulder and slowly squeezed the trigger. The rifle roared and the pig was obliterated with a cloud of white smoke. As the smoke cleared, I saw the pig start running to the left and stumble badly…a good sign. He made a right turn and started up the hill…a bad sign. He then turned right and took off along the side of the hill at a pretty good clip. Bert yelled to “Hang on” and gunned the Jeep. We flew down the road a couple of hundred feet and saw the pig. Bert slammed on the brakes, grabbed his rifle and snapped off a quick shot. The pig disappeared in the trees, still running. I was sick at the prospect of possibly missing the shot or losing the pig altogether.
We drove another hundred yards or so and stopped. There was nothing in sight. I was sicker! After a few minutes of glassing, Bert announced that he “might” see the pig. He wasn’t sure, but it looked like a pig lying against a tree up on the hill.
I looked through my riflescope. It looked like a pig to me too, but I thought it was wishful thinking on my part. Bert said we could drive to a spot above what we thought was the pig and come in from above.
Jerry (the other Jerry) took off walking to continue hunting and Bert and I took off in the Jeep. After a while, we came to the top of a hill and got out. Now we walked! Down a hundred yards, over a barbed wire fence and on another 50 yards. We saw a dark blob. I couldn’t make it out. Bert picked up a couple of rocks and chucked them at the blob. Nothing. Bert moved forward, pistol in hand. I walked forward, rifle at the ready. Then I saw it. It WAS the hog…and it was freakin’ HUGE! After we kicked it to make damn sure it was dead, Bert told me that this was one VERY nice hog that would easily go 250 pounds.
We rolled the hog to the bottom of the hill and I stayed with it while Bert went back to the cabin to get some rope and a pulley. When he got back, we tied the pulley to a fence post and ran the rope through it and down to the hog. Bert then used the Jeep to pull the hog right up to the road. It was really slick!
Jerry (the other Jerry) took off walking to continue hunting and Bert and I took off in the Jeep. After a while, we came to the top of a hill and got out. Now we walked! Down a hundred yards, over a barbed wire fence and on another 50 yards. We saw a dark blob. I couldn’t make it out. Bert picked up a couple of rocks and chucked them at the blob. Nothing. Bert moved forward, pistol in hand. I walked forward, rifle at the ready. Then I saw it. It WAS the hog…and it was freakin’ HUGE! After we kicked it to make damn sure it was dead, Bert told me that this was one VERY nice hog that would easily go 250 pounds.
We rolled the hog to the bottom of the hill and I stayed with it while Bert went back to the cabin to get some rope and a pulley. When he got back, we tied the pulley to a fence post and ran the rope through it and down to the hog. Bert then used the Jeep to pull the hog right up to the road. It was really slick!
We loaded the hog onto a rack on the rear of the Jeep and headed off to pick up Jerry (the other Jerry). We found him sleeping under a tree.
We hunted on the way back to the cabin without any luck. Bert strung the hog up,
gutted it, skinned it and cut it up into quarters using a boning knife and a Sawzall, a sort of electric hacksaw. My shot had been perfect…right behind the left shoulder. The bullet went totally through the pig, exited on the other side and took out both lungs in the process. At least there was a hole on the far side, but we found the bullet inside the hide during skinning. The bullet had opened perfectly!
We put the meat in three ice chests and stuck them in the chiller while Jerry (the other Jerry) and I packed up to head for home.
We left at 1:00 and headed into town for ice, a hamburger, milk shake and some gas. We arrived at Jerry’s house (the other Jerry) around 5:00 pm, unloaded his stuff, grabbed a cup of coffee and I headed for home, arriving about 8:30. I unloaded just what had to be unloaded and headed for the shower. It had been a long, hard, very enjoyable day!
The next day, Claudia and I took the meat up to Tip Top Meats for processing. It will take about a week to do. We ordered two hams to be cured and smoked, two shoulder roasts, 1” pork chops, ribs, soup bones and the rest made into breakfast sausage with the heat at about a “7”. The next two days were spent washing the hunting gear, cleaning guns and putting all the gear back into its proper place. One of the hams will be the “guest of honor” for Thanksgiving this year.
We left at 1:00 and headed into town for ice, a hamburger, milk shake and some gas. We arrived at Jerry’s house (the other Jerry) around 5:00 pm, unloaded his stuff, grabbed a cup of coffee and I headed for home, arriving about 8:30. I unloaded just what had to be unloaded and headed for the shower. It had been a long, hard, very enjoyable day!
The next day, Claudia and I took the meat up to Tip Top Meats for processing. It will take about a week to do. We ordered two hams to be cured and smoked, two shoulder roasts, 1” pork chops, ribs, soup bones and the rest made into breakfast sausage with the heat at about a “7”. The next two days were spent washing the hunting gear, cleaning guns and putting all the gear back into its proper place. One of the hams will be the “guest of honor” for Thanksgiving this year.
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