With the colder months on their way to finishing up some of us look back on a very successful hunting season and some, including myself, can count 6 months of hunting trips on one hand. I have been receiving so many photos this year from hunting and fishing goers, of their successes this year. There has been some great stories coming through and I hope more is to come. So far I am still unsure of the future of Hooked On Boars magazine and it keeps me up at night thinking of ideas of how to bring it back or even if there is still a place for it with everyone preferring to read social media and play on their phones instead of read magazines. There is definitely people out there reading magazines and I am always getting asked if ill bring the magazine back to what it was but the short answer is… I simply don’t know but my hope is to bring it back to what it once was.
Although the brand is Hooked On Boars I struggle to hold up that reputation and as some of you know, I am creeping more and more towards the Hooked On Sows end of the spectrum over the last couple of years, which is fine by me because id far prefer a fat dry sow in the freezer over a jizzed up tough old boar any day. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a good run around with scrappy hard running boars that give the dogs a good work out and last weekend I took some time off mahi and went on a hell mission to show my dogs some pork before winter disappeared.
The weekend started with a compulsory family day on Friday and while I love spending time with Mrs HOB and Frank, I sure was busting to get in my truck and hit the road as soon as possible. I had planned a catch up with Sam in North Canterbury. Sam runs a station up there that has the odd pig poking around every now and then and his pack just got a bit younger recently so he was also busting to get out and about. I figured while I was up in that neck of the woods I might as well catch up with our local celebrity Mr Shaun Monk at Island Hills Station to see what he’s been working on. A quick call to Shaun and a plan was made to meet up, cut the dogs loose for a bit then put me to work on a bridge that was washed away in the floods a few weeks back.
So at about 2pm on the Friday I was released from family duties. I loaded two dogs Jill (6 year old main bitch) and Stella (3 year old up and comer…. I hope), gun, gear, gas and I was gone, heading for the hills, a place that was slowly turning into a distant memory for me. I got up to Sams and we shot the shit for a bit catching up. Once it got dark Sam and I snuck out to “charge the tracking gear” which means we grab a spot light and go bouncing around to see what’s about. We were out for a couple of hours spotting the odd animal here and there which included a couple of pigs out on the feed paddock. We both stared at the pigs for a bit as they ran away and once they were out of sight Sam commented that maybe we should have shot one or two. Oh well, we weren’t really hunting, it’s just what we do when we catch up. Go spot lighting, spot some animals, talk shit then go have a beer and get an earful from the mrs for being out so late. Its quite therapeutic really.
We packed it in early and dossed down for a gentleman wake up of 7am. Sam had to feed out first thing so we boosted around on the tractor for an hour or so then back to the bikes to take the dogs for a mission. It was blowing a Norwest which is a dry horrible shitty wind that can really ruin a day on the hill but we were still keen to give it a bash. The first spot we tried was up high where Sam had seen a decent pig kicking around. As soon as we got to the top the wind was shitting on our parade and our plan to walk a leading ridge down through the scrub was scrapped and we decided to just wing it and hoon around to a face where we could work the wind.
We got to a spot that always holds young mob pigs and boogied up one of the steepest tracks on the property. It the top that looks good from far but as soon as you hit it, it hits you back and we both were bitching the whole way up about our gammy old man knees and back problems. Once we got to the top it was all open rocky country and we saw a couple of deer which was good for the young dogs to see as they decided to track out on them but turned away once they realised that they weren’t pigs.
We pushed around until the wind was on our nose and our two young bitches tracked down and pulled up a young 20-30lb boar in some very nasty rubbish scrub. The dogs managed to kill it before we could get close enough and all that was left we managed to get to it was a skinned, boned and gutted pig. No good for the freezer. The day got warm and we gave up. We did manage to get some kids onto some animals in the spotlight that night but lll let them tell that story.
The next morning I helped Sam feed out before hauling arse to Shauns whare and apologising for being late to the party. Luckily the valley in Island Hills Station was still cold so Shaun loaded up some concrete gear and we set off to the middle of the station. Shaun was generous enough to give me a guided tour of the place and gave me a history lesson along the way.
Once we got to where we needed be it was business on the agenda first up, so with that we let our dogs out and went pig hunting. We shot the shit while the dogs did their thing and about 30 minutes or so into the leisurely walk we got to a very nice lagoon. Our dogs went wondering with mine coming back after a bit so we talked more shit while waiting on Shauns older dogs. They had other plans and started bailing on the opposite side of the lagoon. My dogs went tearing off and I was pretty sure I heard one of them do a bomb into the lagoon haha. She got back out and tried again.
Shauns dogs lost the pig after a bit and my two decided to find it again attempt to pull it up. They bailed it for a bit and then it started breaking on them and they lost it. Then Shauns two older dogs found it again and were able to stop it long enough for us to grab it and stick it. It was a good 90lb boar with 1 inch sharp hooks. Luckily Stella was the only dog to feel the end of those teeth and she was lucky enough to get a minor rip on the front leg. We cleaned and carried that pig back to the trucks before Shaun started cracking the whip and putting me to work on his busted bridge.
Once I had worked off my guided pig hunting debt Shaun let me go home and even let me take the pig. I got home around 7pm and young Frank was just about to head to bed but old dad snuck him out to the shed to help hang the pig up and have a quick beer. The next day Frank and I skinned and boned out the pig to let the meat set in the meat fridges so we could make sausages. Being only two years old means you get to spend a lot of time helping the old man butcher animals and make sausages which is exactly what we did.
Thanks to Sam and Shaun for helping me claw back to being Hooked On Boars.
Harry @ HOB