Paul patiently waiting
170 pound wild hog
130 pound wild hog
Our first bow kills
Hunting is a huge part of my life and I now have someone who shares my passion for the sport. This past August my boyfriend Paul and I decided that we would venture down into the south land to hunt wild hogs.
I had hunted hogs before in Tennessee with a rifle but this time we were headed down to South Carolina to hunt them with bows. Both I and Paul had not yet killed anything with a bow, and Paul likes to hunt animals where he can become the hunted, so wild hogs were right up his alley. I however had a lump in my throat the size of a pumpkin; I was very nervous hogs scared me when I had a gun, now I was after it with a bow.
When we arrived at the hunt camp after a long 17 hour drive we were pumped and ready to hunt. We were not hunting untill the next morning which seemed liek a lifetime away. Once the excitement wore off a little i fell right to sleep and four thirty was on top of us before I knew it. After a quick coffee we were on our way to the hunting grounds. We were not walked into our stand or shown our stand in the daylight, we were simply pointed in the right direction and told to head 150 yards ahead, make a right and we should either see the stand or our bait pile. Remember it is still early and dark out, we did manage to find our tree stand, climb on in and get situated.
Paul has grown fond of sleeping out in the woods and has made me his watchful eye. With Paul fast asleep I kept a watchful eye on our bait and waited for the hogs to show, and waited, and waited and waited and then I waited. Paul eventually came to and there were no hog’s insight. The outfitter picks everyone up at 11, regroups and sends you out again at 4. This really didn’t work well for me; my philosophy is “leave me in my stand because I cannot shoot from the living room of a hunt camp”. We were both a little frustrated at the lack of hunting we were doing and the non existent game out of our stands or anyone else’s at camp. The next afternoon I expressed my frustration and we set out in the mid afternoon heat with dogs to get some hogs moving.
Only minutes into the hunt the dogs were on a nice boar. Paul was up first and my heart was in my throat. He had an arrow knocked in and was ready for the vicious hog to show itself. It appeared out of a thick cluster of bush no more than 20 yards away from the end of Paul’s broad head. All I could hear was my pounding heart; he pulled his bow up, drew back, and let his arrow fly all in one fluid movement with the grace and ease of a seasoned archer. The arrow went right through the pig and knocked it over. The outfitter was thoroughly impressed at how easy Paul made bow hunting look, he had done it and now I was on deck.
The next day we set out once again with the dogs and it wasn’t long before they were on a nice hog. It was not as big as Paul’s but it was a hog and this was going to be my first bow kill. My arrow was knocked and ready, he appeared I drew on him and panic flooded my veins, he was so close and so mean looking. I messed up the first shot and hit his shoulder quickly regrouped and stuck another arrow right behind his shoulder that almost passed right through him, it was a good shot and he wasn’t going anywhere, but he was still alive, I gave him another one and he finally went down. I had my very first bow kill and Paul was standing right beside me.
