Rock Steady
16-02-08, 09:57 PM
This is a short story from a lot of years ago.
Mountain Boar
It was early morning the mist was just lifting and the old Nissan struggled up the rough mountain trail to a place we call the “double gates”. We parked the Nissan with its bullbar against a tree as the handbrake was only an ancient memory for the old G60. We got out as was our practice and glassed the surrounding high mountain country from our vantage point looking for some sign of large mountain boars. I heard the unmistakable sound float across the still morning air of a couple of boars fighting across on the next ridge, after a few minutes they came into view and it looked like a good mob with a few good boars. I turned to my hunting partner Rolls with a smile on my face and suggested we cross through the valley and up to where the boars are fighting to see if we could find ourselves a good trophy animal. After walking down the steep mountain into the valley we crossed the creek that was barely flowing and started the climb to where we could still hear the boar’s occasional squeal as they sorted out who was boss. We came up onto the shelf as we planned about 200 meters from the boars with the breeze in our face, we settled down to glass the mob from this range to determine which boar we would target. It was obvious that there was a sow in season with the younger boars fighting amongst themselves a trio of better boars following the sow. One of the boars stood out from his fellows as we could clearly see the white ivory well clear of his jaw line, whilst still looking at the mob thought the binoculars I said to Roland “I reckon the old fella with the torn ear is the pick of them”. He agreed and a plan was made, we would move in just under the lip of the shelf until we where fairly close and then slowly come over the top to get a closer look at the mob. The boars where more interested in fighting amongst themselves and chasing the sow around so we moved in for a shot using a blackberry bush as cover, as luck would have it the sow moved closer to us bringing three boars with her. It was Rolands turn to shoot so we decided we would both come to draw and Roland would take the shot and if it played out well I may be able to get a clean shot as well. Roland settled to take his shot but a change of breeze at the last second caused the boars to turn and his arrow flew wide, as the boars trotted away I settled the my pin on the boar with the torn ear and lifted a little releasing my arrow in one fluid movement. The arrow flew in a beautiful arc and dropped into the boar hitting him beside the spine and drilling down into his chest; it was one of those magic shots. The boar did not travel far before faltering and dropping in his tracks.
We walked over and that is when I realised I have finally gotten my first 30+ boar. He was an old fella and it looked like the doggers had a few goes at him.
http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q69/boarsbilliesnbarra/GR%20Pre%202007/IMG_0020.jpg
Mountain Boar
It was early morning the mist was just lifting and the old Nissan struggled up the rough mountain trail to a place we call the “double gates”. We parked the Nissan with its bullbar against a tree as the handbrake was only an ancient memory for the old G60. We got out as was our practice and glassed the surrounding high mountain country from our vantage point looking for some sign of large mountain boars. I heard the unmistakable sound float across the still morning air of a couple of boars fighting across on the next ridge, after a few minutes they came into view and it looked like a good mob with a few good boars. I turned to my hunting partner Rolls with a smile on my face and suggested we cross through the valley and up to where the boars are fighting to see if we could find ourselves a good trophy animal. After walking down the steep mountain into the valley we crossed the creek that was barely flowing and started the climb to where we could still hear the boar’s occasional squeal as they sorted out who was boss. We came up onto the shelf as we planned about 200 meters from the boars with the breeze in our face, we settled down to glass the mob from this range to determine which boar we would target. It was obvious that there was a sow in season with the younger boars fighting amongst themselves a trio of better boars following the sow. One of the boars stood out from his fellows as we could clearly see the white ivory well clear of his jaw line, whilst still looking at the mob thought the binoculars I said to Roland “I reckon the old fella with the torn ear is the pick of them”. He agreed and a plan was made, we would move in just under the lip of the shelf until we where fairly close and then slowly come over the top to get a closer look at the mob. The boars where more interested in fighting amongst themselves and chasing the sow around so we moved in for a shot using a blackberry bush as cover, as luck would have it the sow moved closer to us bringing three boars with her. It was Rolands turn to shoot so we decided we would both come to draw and Roland would take the shot and if it played out well I may be able to get a clean shot as well. Roland settled to take his shot but a change of breeze at the last second caused the boars to turn and his arrow flew wide, as the boars trotted away I settled the my pin on the boar with the torn ear and lifted a little releasing my arrow in one fluid movement. The arrow flew in a beautiful arc and dropped into the boar hitting him beside the spine and drilling down into his chest; it was one of those magic shots. The boar did not travel far before faltering and dropping in his tracks.
We walked over and that is when I realised I have finally gotten my first 30+ boar. He was an old fella and it looked like the doggers had a few goes at him.
http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q69/boarsbilliesnbarra/GR%20Pre%202007/IMG_0020.jpg