I've seen people
jumping from perfectly good airplanes just for kicks. Others, I'm told, ride the
rapids in kayaks, getting a rush from the experience. There is a whole world of
exciting activities that people engage in everyday. For me there's nothing
like the thrill of being on the ground with only a knife in hand, hunting wild,
and I do mean wild trophy boar. To me a trophy boar is one with cutters over
200lbs. And this kind of hunt gets my blood going. If you've read about my
other hunts you know it's a fair chase. Best results have always been with
www.affordablehoghunts.com out
of Savoy Texas. Willy Morris and his dogs are the best bar none. This
activity is not for the faint of heart so you don't just take Fido out
looking for hogs. You won't find a hog and if you do you'll be sorry. Hate to
tell you but your dog won't be coming home. You'll need several dogs, and
not just any old hounds. And you'll need a man named Forrest Morris. The
big bad wild boar of this area reside in the wilds. That is to say on the
ranches and farms of northeast Texas where I love to hunt. Over the
centuries these creatures have achieved a near mystical reputation among
hunters where they are found. This part of Texas is no exception. These
hogs are big, mean and they have the advantage. They will reek havoc one
moment and be gone like a ghost the next. Sometimes you only get a five
second glimpse of a big boar and then he's gone. Hours later you finally catch
up to the dogs and they are laid out exhausted. The boar is nowhere to be
found and it's getting really dark. The boar have a certain smell.
When you get to the bay the aroma is strong. It's a nasty thing that gets your
blood going. When you know you are there with only a knife it puts you in
predator mode. Like the alien in the Arnold movie stroking his trophy
skulls. People will ask if the meat is good and if I eat it. I do, while
admiring my mounted heads and dreaming of the next hunt. My girlfriend
Tomi wears the cutters of the hog I named Saddam on a primitive necklace she
made. I love that!
My fifth hunt with Willy saw J.R. handling
the catch dog Snatch. Off we went in the merry month of May 2003. It
was a Sunday and it was a bit warm. Just enough to make you drink a little
extra water. We scouted two places with the dogs but saw no sign of hogs.
This is where Willy shines. He reads sign quickly so thirty to forty
minutes in each spot brought us to the third one at about 11:30a.m. Texas time.
Willy thought he saw hog sign so our excitement rose. We were walking on
the edge of a tree row in some wheat. The dogs were in the trees and after
about five minutes they started yelping like they were onto a boar.
Willy said he would stay in the trees and try to cut him off, if he went that
way. J.R. and I made better time in the wheat and when we had gone about
seventy yards we could see the dogs had a big cinnamon boar at the bay. J.R.
turned Snatch loose and the can of whoop ass was opened. No turning back
now. This guy is big! I could see the boar under a bowed tree that
had fallen. There was about four feet of clearance and the dogs looked
like they were in his house. This was where he laid up to rest and
recuperate and he wasn't going anywhere. He was fighting right there.
I ran and pulled myself up on the fallen tree out of harms way. At that
moment the boar was trying to shake off the catch dog and charging at the others
away from me. He's maybe ten feet away at this point. He then turned
to the right and made a clockwise 270 degree turn charging the dogs. As he
passed right under me J.R. said, "Get him Mr. Key." I rolled off
the tree and unsheathed my knife, the White Knife. This one has a Mojo.
Made in Scotland Texas by the late Robert Hajovsky it's called a Razorback.
It's the on I used on the hog I call Saddam. It's a sub-hilt knife
if you know what that is. The hog was backing out from under the tree with
dogs on his face when I jumped on his back. I never draw my knife till the
last moment and always make sure to deliver the lethal insertion at the same
moment I'm on him. That starts the clock ticking early on. I don't swing
wildly with the knife. It's an assassin's stroke. I put all my
weight on the boar because I want him to loose his legs. I always leave
the knife in and work it to cut right through the heart puncturing the
aortic arch. With the knife inserted the blood stays in the chest cavity
compressing the heart. It's safer for everyone because there's no danger of
cutting a dog. When you are on the boar he can't turn around and cut you
because his spine is rigid. This is his weakness and I enjoy exploiting it.
I am the predator and these wonderful dogs are my soldiers. This is
fun!
The boar weighed right at 300lbs and was
difficult to drag out to a place where Willy could drive his pickup close by.
All the dogs were in good shape and happy. I was very pleased to have
another wall hanger and I named him Osama right there on the spot. Saddam
and Osama look great together. Last week J.R. got a monster which looks
like 400lbs. I saw it on the website. I'm told he and Willy
were out without a client. Seized the moment and bingo bongo a huge
trophy boar! You can't buy that kind of excitement! Well, you can at www.affordablehoghunts.com.
Randy Key