Despite the fact that the calendar
says its Spring, someone forgot to tell Mother Nature…Cold and damp
with a constant annoying drizzle, Drew and I watched a hidden clear
cut, tucked away in an oak flat, deep in the middle of a 1000 acres
of Tennessee forest. Old oaks and towering hemlocks surrounded our
hiding spot as we waited for our prey to make its appearance. Maples
just on the verge of exploding with their new leaves…
Two hours into our vigil and it
seemed that our chosen quarry had other plans. No sign of game
anywhere as the drizzle faded into a mist and the temperature slowly
began to rise. We discussed our game plan and decided it was time to
make a move and see if we could find our target. The boy and I
bickered back and forth about which direction to hike and what
logging road to take…I bit my tongue and remembered that I too was
once a 15 year old boy and more often than not, didn’t see eye to
eye with my dad. Testing his wings and feeling his oats I surmised…
We sneaked through the soft
woods and slipped our way along the muddy logging roads looking for
sign. We came to a crossroads, littered with hoof prints and took up
the trail. Twenty minutes into our track, we spied a rooted up area
under a stand of white oaks. A good sign I thought, but again
disagreement between the kid and I. I insisted that the damage to the
woods’ floor was caused by our goal, he contended it was nothing
more than evidence of squirrels working for acorns or turkeys
scratching out their next meal…We grumbled back and forth and then
decided to split up and cool off…
Another hour or so had passed,
thoughts had been thought and tempers calmed. The two of us met back
up and all was well. Neither had loosed and arrow while we were
separated, but both of us found signs of encouragement that lifted
our spirits and hopes that we’d soon cross paths with the
appropriate critter…
We later met up with property
manager, Johnny, and he had further news that added a hop to our
step. He had seen four animals earlier that morning feeding through a
stand of oaks, searching out acorns. We hatched a plan and in short
order, the three of us were making our way up the steep side of a
Tennessee foot hill. We slowly crested the hill and there they were,
70 yards to our front, but oblivious to our presence. By the looks of
things, romance was in the air as they chased each other about. Drew
took the lead and we crept closer in hopes of getting within range of
his stickbow…Slowly we cut the distance. Finally, 30 yards out and
we’re busted. The matriarch of the group stood and faced us. A
stare down was on…She bristled and took a few angry steps towards
us causing uneasy feelings and a quickened pulse! I secretly looked
for trees for us to climb in the event of a bull rush! She had had
enough and the group crashed their way down the logging road and into
the thick tangles of downed tree tops.
Disheartened, but excited,
Johnny told us to crouch down at the edge of the road and felt that
they would circle back and hopefully give Drew and chance for a shot.
We caught glimpses of black and grey, muscle and gristle working
their way back to our spot and the white oak acorns. The old gal was
leading the way, following a trail right to our impromptu hiding
spot. At first we were invisible, but then she locked her gaze on us…
Normally, the moment of truth
in hunting situations causes all the world to go into slow motion
mode. Not this time…As soon as eye contact was made, the nasty
looking old broad picked up her pace and trotted directly at us. The
closer she got, the louder her teeth popping and tusk clacking
became. She grunted and huffed and finally veered off our path at ten
yards. She paused for a moment, debating a full on charge, a bluff or
a retreat…The pause became her downfall. Just as she was about to
make her move, I caught movement to my right as Drew released an
arrow from his recurve. The broadhead caught the rank, old sow just
behind the shoulder. She let out a loud bark and squeals and in an
instant, the entire group had vacated the country. The wild hog
stopped about twenty yards out, staggered and fell, over in a matter
of seconds.
I looked over my right shoulder
in time to see Johnny congratulate the boy on a fine shot and for
keeping his cool under adrenalin filled circumstances. In my
excitement and happiness for Drew’s success, I wanted to give the
kid a hug, to still see him as a youngster, a little boy. But I knew
that this moment deserved more…a handshake between a father and
son, between a young man and his dad.
