Luke
18-02-07, 12:39 AM
This is a story I wrote shortly after returning from Bowcomp '05. It was written for publication in BHDU. It is yet to appear so I've finally gotten around to put it up to share with you all. I hope you enjoy.
Returning To The Fold
Watching the vapor trail peel off the wing I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness that my 17 day adventure of a lifetime was coming closer to the end. With each kilometer of ground that raced beneath the plane all too soon (yet in other ways, not soon enough) my trip would end as the landing gear came down and the plane returned me home.
The trip I was returning from was inarguably the ultimate culmination of my five month sojourn back into the Australian Bowhunting fraternity after some 13 months break. I first learned about Bowcomp 2005 upon my return to frequenting the website I had birthed back in September of 2001; The Bowhunters Group of Australia. I had not logged on to the forums during the time of my break and upon doing so I read of the concept of Bowcomp that had been conceived by Mick Baker of Trophy Bowhunts Australia.
Mick’s concept was to hold a Bowhunting competition for 10 hunters (5 pairs) over a period of 10 days. This would be the inaugural and trial event, I wanted in for sure! There would be 9 days of hunting and a rest day upon which a fishing competition would be held. Mick had subdivided the allocated hunting area on the property into 9 regions each approximately 40 square kilometers (more than enough ground to attempt to cover in a day’s hunt). Each pair would be given one crack at each hunting area, thus making it fair for all involved. The available game on the property had been awarded differing degrees of points allowing for a “tally” to be kept making it possible to “rank” the bowhunters during and at the end of the competition.
I contacted Mick to say that I was super keen, only to be told that all the places had been filled shortly after Mick had opened for nominations. Man I was bummed! If only I’d kept up my visiting the website. I told Mick that should any places become available (as the hunt was still some 9 months away), that I’d be in like Flynn and he’d only have to contact me. I was glad I did as sure enough due to unforeseen circumstances one of the other boys had to drop out leaving a spot available to me!! Upon confirming this with Mick it was full steam ahead to get ready for what was for me, to be, a trip of a lifetime (thus far)…
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/planewing.jpg
It was 43 degrees where I sat in the shade, to say it was HOT was an understatement in anyone’s language. My ASAT camo hung from the tree above me drenched in sweat, my head was pounding and the blood in my ears sounded like a freight train at top speed. I was exhausted, to say the very least. I had just finished taking photos and dejawing the last boar that I would harvest for the trip. Day 10 had come upon us all too quickly and the last morning hunt was to prove to be a milestone achievement for myself even in light of the numerous personal bests that I had already achieved so far.
I had been lucky to be able to head to a part of the property Cashy (my hunting mate for the 10 days) and I had labeled as “The Honey Pot”; a couple of creeks that had numerous fresh water springs dotted along them, a certain magnet for pigs in this heat! I had walked about 500 metres when I spotted a large mob off to my right. I followed them up and shortly found myself only 25 metres off of a mob of about 15 boars asleep in a tight stand of trees. I dumped my pack and was inching through the tinder dry leaves to get into position for a good shot on a large black and white boar when the wind swirled and all was ruined. Dam it! I’d been told prior to going up to the cape of the notoriety of the swirling winds and their ability to ruin most stalks, and, let me tell you, Cashy and I sure did learn first hand of this fact; the hard way, many times!!
I moved off back towards the creek and decided to check out a branch that joined it further down. This too proved to be unsuccessful with little eventuating but a great stalk on an already dead pig (shot the day before by Scott Goodwin), and the spooking of a large previously unseen boar as he made his way in for a midday wallow. Reaching the point where the 2 creeks merged I pulled up for a bite to eat and decided as hunting was due to end by midday that day, I’d have to start making my way back to the vehicle. It seemed pointless to walk directly back up the creek that we’d just come down (as what pig in it’s right mind is going to come in to wallow on a creek that is already scented up?) but curiosity and the possibility of a not-so-smart boar got the better of me. I stalked along the creek in my socks, as it was by far the stealthiest of footwear I’d found (by trial and error). I was coming to a section in the creek where there were 2 large water holes, one being where Matty Bestwick had smashed a 29 and 6/8 DP boar only three days prior. I knew at this point in the creek one of the water holes had a large section carved out of the far creek bank and that it would not be absurd for a boar to be found sleeping in the cool shade.
I inched forward and although there was no sleeping boar where I’d suspected there might be, there was a boar bedded down on the near side of the hole. What luck!! He was lying broadside at what I estimated to be about 31 metres, but had a 3 inch log covering the middle section of his lungs, about half way up his body. What were my options? It was day 10 and this was my last shot at bagging a really good boar (no pun intended). So instead of risking blowing yet another attempt to get in really close before a shot, I opted to back myself to slide an arrow into the unsuspecting boar from where I stood. My regular practicing distance was 50 metres so a 30 metre shot in my opinion was by no means beyond my abilities or maximum effective/ethical range.
The spot from where the shot was taken. The boar is lying in the shade on the right.
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/sleeping-boar.jpg
Without making any eye contact with the boar I carefully place an arrow on the string. I came to full draw off the boar and slowly turned to take a bead directly UNDER the log which would see the arrow take out his heart leaving him no chance of escape. I settled my 30 metre pin just on the log. The release opened like silk, the cams of my Hoyt Cybertec snapped forwards and the arrow scorched off the string, a razor sharp Outback Hunter leading the way. The boar was hit sweetly and the arrow passed cleanly through into the bank behind. He did little more than jump to his feet and spin around in a vein attempt to find his attacker. Instinctively, I nocked another arrow not wanting to give him any opportunity to run. I opted this time to go over the log as the boar was now standing and as the second arrow completed it’s journey through both lungs I knew this boar was mine.
The boar in question going 28 DP’s.
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/sideonboar.jpg
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/lukeboar.jpg
It was at this point the adrenaline kicked in and I started to notice how fast my heart was racing, how much sweat had beaded on my forehead and just how shaky my legs and arms felt. I had no idea that I had achieved my milestone goal that I’d set for myself at the beginning of the trip. I went over and inspected my quarry. He had a great set of hooks on him but I was hesitant to get excited at what they might score as I’d had what looked to be a trophy class set of tusks only the day before pull very short in the jaw and come in well under the 25DP mark. Regardless of the size of tusk I was ecstatic with my efforts. I had backed myself to take a challenging shot and I’d nailed it with perfection and impressive results. I must say that no matter how often I see an animal not move from it’s bed after a well placed shot, I will always be and am continually left speechless at the effectiveness of the arrow to quickly and humanely dispatch Australia’s ferals.
I set about taking photos. I snapped off about 30 or 40 I reckon. The wonder of the digital camera and tripod. I dejawed the boar and stopped for a well earned drink and rest in the shade. The heat was oppressive and I was thankful for the water in my pack even though it was more than luke warm…
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/baor-log.jpg
It had been a fantastic return to the fold for me. I had the pleasure of catching up with some great mates and making some new ones. I shared near on 2 weeks with good mates; Barry Gardner, Noel Hancock, Scott Goodwin, Mick Baker, Matt Bestwick, Jodi Woodhouse, Matt Anderson, Scott H and Stuart. It was also great to share camp with Suzanne Cash and Noel’s partner Cathy. Mick and Matty Baker must also be thanked for the tireless hospitality and efforts to make us as comfortable as possible in a very harsh environment.
Most of all I’d like to thank my hunting partner, Cashy for the honour of the 10 days we spent helping each other out. Mate, we covered some hard miles, put up with drinking warm water, we blew a few boars out of their beds but we also grassed a few to boot! We both got mild heat stroke on the first day, we both got charged by the same boar (thanks for saving my ass on that one!) yet we both ended up taking a good boar each. The amount I learnt from hunting with you mate was truly invaluable, both in practice and in the conversations we had when we were just relaxing.
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/baor-face.jpg
This trip had done more than re-spark the passion in me for bowhunting and all that it is and encapsulates for those who have the privilege to participate in it. It is beyond any doubt that I have bowhunting in my blood and that I’ll be a bowhunter for life. In hindsight I can now see that my return to the fold was inevitable and to share it with life long mates makes it all the sweeter.
Good hunting and good mateship.
Luke 8)
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/lilboar.jpg
Returning To The Fold
Watching the vapor trail peel off the wing I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness that my 17 day adventure of a lifetime was coming closer to the end. With each kilometer of ground that raced beneath the plane all too soon (yet in other ways, not soon enough) my trip would end as the landing gear came down and the plane returned me home.
The trip I was returning from was inarguably the ultimate culmination of my five month sojourn back into the Australian Bowhunting fraternity after some 13 months break. I first learned about Bowcomp 2005 upon my return to frequenting the website I had birthed back in September of 2001; The Bowhunters Group of Australia. I had not logged on to the forums during the time of my break and upon doing so I read of the concept of Bowcomp that had been conceived by Mick Baker of Trophy Bowhunts Australia.
Mick’s concept was to hold a Bowhunting competition for 10 hunters (5 pairs) over a period of 10 days. This would be the inaugural and trial event, I wanted in for sure! There would be 9 days of hunting and a rest day upon which a fishing competition would be held. Mick had subdivided the allocated hunting area on the property into 9 regions each approximately 40 square kilometers (more than enough ground to attempt to cover in a day’s hunt). Each pair would be given one crack at each hunting area, thus making it fair for all involved. The available game on the property had been awarded differing degrees of points allowing for a “tally” to be kept making it possible to “rank” the bowhunters during and at the end of the competition.
I contacted Mick to say that I was super keen, only to be told that all the places had been filled shortly after Mick had opened for nominations. Man I was bummed! If only I’d kept up my visiting the website. I told Mick that should any places become available (as the hunt was still some 9 months away), that I’d be in like Flynn and he’d only have to contact me. I was glad I did as sure enough due to unforeseen circumstances one of the other boys had to drop out leaving a spot available to me!! Upon confirming this with Mick it was full steam ahead to get ready for what was for me, to be, a trip of a lifetime (thus far)…
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/planewing.jpg
It was 43 degrees where I sat in the shade, to say it was HOT was an understatement in anyone’s language. My ASAT camo hung from the tree above me drenched in sweat, my head was pounding and the blood in my ears sounded like a freight train at top speed. I was exhausted, to say the very least. I had just finished taking photos and dejawing the last boar that I would harvest for the trip. Day 10 had come upon us all too quickly and the last morning hunt was to prove to be a milestone achievement for myself even in light of the numerous personal bests that I had already achieved so far.
I had been lucky to be able to head to a part of the property Cashy (my hunting mate for the 10 days) and I had labeled as “The Honey Pot”; a couple of creeks that had numerous fresh water springs dotted along them, a certain magnet for pigs in this heat! I had walked about 500 metres when I spotted a large mob off to my right. I followed them up and shortly found myself only 25 metres off of a mob of about 15 boars asleep in a tight stand of trees. I dumped my pack and was inching through the tinder dry leaves to get into position for a good shot on a large black and white boar when the wind swirled and all was ruined. Dam it! I’d been told prior to going up to the cape of the notoriety of the swirling winds and their ability to ruin most stalks, and, let me tell you, Cashy and I sure did learn first hand of this fact; the hard way, many times!!
I moved off back towards the creek and decided to check out a branch that joined it further down. This too proved to be unsuccessful with little eventuating but a great stalk on an already dead pig (shot the day before by Scott Goodwin), and the spooking of a large previously unseen boar as he made his way in for a midday wallow. Reaching the point where the 2 creeks merged I pulled up for a bite to eat and decided as hunting was due to end by midday that day, I’d have to start making my way back to the vehicle. It seemed pointless to walk directly back up the creek that we’d just come down (as what pig in it’s right mind is going to come in to wallow on a creek that is already scented up?) but curiosity and the possibility of a not-so-smart boar got the better of me. I stalked along the creek in my socks, as it was by far the stealthiest of footwear I’d found (by trial and error). I was coming to a section in the creek where there were 2 large water holes, one being where Matty Bestwick had smashed a 29 and 6/8 DP boar only three days prior. I knew at this point in the creek one of the water holes had a large section carved out of the far creek bank and that it would not be absurd for a boar to be found sleeping in the cool shade.
I inched forward and although there was no sleeping boar where I’d suspected there might be, there was a boar bedded down on the near side of the hole. What luck!! He was lying broadside at what I estimated to be about 31 metres, but had a 3 inch log covering the middle section of his lungs, about half way up his body. What were my options? It was day 10 and this was my last shot at bagging a really good boar (no pun intended). So instead of risking blowing yet another attempt to get in really close before a shot, I opted to back myself to slide an arrow into the unsuspecting boar from where I stood. My regular practicing distance was 50 metres so a 30 metre shot in my opinion was by no means beyond my abilities or maximum effective/ethical range.
The spot from where the shot was taken. The boar is lying in the shade on the right.
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/sleeping-boar.jpg
Without making any eye contact with the boar I carefully place an arrow on the string. I came to full draw off the boar and slowly turned to take a bead directly UNDER the log which would see the arrow take out his heart leaving him no chance of escape. I settled my 30 metre pin just on the log. The release opened like silk, the cams of my Hoyt Cybertec snapped forwards and the arrow scorched off the string, a razor sharp Outback Hunter leading the way. The boar was hit sweetly and the arrow passed cleanly through into the bank behind. He did little more than jump to his feet and spin around in a vein attempt to find his attacker. Instinctively, I nocked another arrow not wanting to give him any opportunity to run. I opted this time to go over the log as the boar was now standing and as the second arrow completed it’s journey through both lungs I knew this boar was mine.
The boar in question going 28 DP’s.
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/sideonboar.jpg
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/lukeboar.jpg
It was at this point the adrenaline kicked in and I started to notice how fast my heart was racing, how much sweat had beaded on my forehead and just how shaky my legs and arms felt. I had no idea that I had achieved my milestone goal that I’d set for myself at the beginning of the trip. I went over and inspected my quarry. He had a great set of hooks on him but I was hesitant to get excited at what they might score as I’d had what looked to be a trophy class set of tusks only the day before pull very short in the jaw and come in well under the 25DP mark. Regardless of the size of tusk I was ecstatic with my efforts. I had backed myself to take a challenging shot and I’d nailed it with perfection and impressive results. I must say that no matter how often I see an animal not move from it’s bed after a well placed shot, I will always be and am continually left speechless at the effectiveness of the arrow to quickly and humanely dispatch Australia’s ferals.
I set about taking photos. I snapped off about 30 or 40 I reckon. The wonder of the digital camera and tripod. I dejawed the boar and stopped for a well earned drink and rest in the shade. The heat was oppressive and I was thankful for the water in my pack even though it was more than luke warm…
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/baor-log.jpg
It had been a fantastic return to the fold for me. I had the pleasure of catching up with some great mates and making some new ones. I shared near on 2 weeks with good mates; Barry Gardner, Noel Hancock, Scott Goodwin, Mick Baker, Matt Bestwick, Jodi Woodhouse, Matt Anderson, Scott H and Stuart. It was also great to share camp with Suzanne Cash and Noel’s partner Cathy. Mick and Matty Baker must also be thanked for the tireless hospitality and efforts to make us as comfortable as possible in a very harsh environment.
Most of all I’d like to thank my hunting partner, Cashy for the honour of the 10 days we spent helping each other out. Mate, we covered some hard miles, put up with drinking warm water, we blew a few boars out of their beds but we also grassed a few to boot! We both got mild heat stroke on the first day, we both got charged by the same boar (thanks for saving my ass on that one!) yet we both ended up taking a good boar each. The amount I learnt from hunting with you mate was truly invaluable, both in practice and in the conversations we had when we were just relaxing.
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/baor-face.jpg
This trip had done more than re-spark the passion in me for bowhunting and all that it is and encapsulates for those who have the privilege to participate in it. It is beyond any doubt that I have bowhunting in my blood and that I’ll be a bowhunter for life. In hindsight I can now see that my return to the fold was inevitable and to share it with life long mates makes it all the sweeter.
Good hunting and good mateship.
Luke 8)
http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k205/griffo79/my%20hunting%20pics/crosby/lilboar.jpg