Steve Merlo: Practice at range makes for perfect first-time pig hunt
By The Bakersfield Californian
Watching a small herd of wild pigs materialize from a thicket 80 yards away, 13-year-old Ethan Dotson of Bakersfield nervously placed the sights of his .280 Remington on the nearest animal. Using a fencepost for a rest, he patiently waited for the hog to turn broadside, and when it did, steadied the crosshairs on the animal's shoulder and slowly pressed the trigger.
Several days before, Ethan, dad Wayne and grandfather Phillip graciously asked me to tag along with the trio on an upcoming wild pig hunt northwest of Bakersfield. The guided hunt, a birthday gift from father to son only three days before, and a first-time big game hunt for Ethan, had all three men anxiously awaiting the day.
After discussing what needed to be done before the hunt, we decided to meet at Five Dogs Shooting Range for a little rifle practice. The range, open Thursday through Monday, offers the best rifle range in our area, and anyone can shoot for a nominal fee.
Equipped with all forms of shooting ranges, including rifle, pistol, sporting clays and Cowboy Acton Shooting, owner David Olds has gone the extra mile for shooting enthusiasts.
Phillip, Wayne and I would observe the actual wild pig hunt while Ethan would hopefully do the shooting. Worried about bullet placement and a possible miss, or worse, a wounded animal, Ethan fired shot after sand-bagged shot into a 100-yard target. Every shot grouped closer and closer until at last, all of us were confident a wild pig would be in serious trouble should one appear less than 200 yards away from the young marksman.
A frigid 21- degree morning greeted us at the private ranch where we met our guide. Cups of hot beverages, normally meant solely for drinking, felt wonderful when simply held in our hands. Sunrise, still a half-hour away, would hopefully bring a quick increase in temperatures and some relief from the chill.
The hunt, a 'glass, stalk and shoot' type, thankfully meant that we could remain within the confines of the warm vehicle while known areas of pig travel were glassed. When hogs were spotted, the rifles would be uncased and loaded and a stalk figured out to bring Ethan within range of his quarry.
The hunting gods were on our side that day and within minutes after the sun had risen, our guide had spotted the herd mentioned at the beginning of this story. The stalk, right in the open and done downwind to prevent the pigs' superb noses from winding us, went perfectly. While all hogs have exceptional noses, most have difficulty seeing even their own hooves in front of their faces, and these were no exception. While the guide coached Ethan and the rest of us watched from a distance, the two crept to within easy range.
A single, medium-sized boar stepped out of the copse of willows, turned and faced them, offering a bad, head-on shot, not a hunter's first choice. Acting coolly like a professional hunter would, Ethan patiently waited for the hog to turn, but before he could shoot, the guide noticed more animals emerging from the brush- filled gulley. Several much larger pigs were now visible, including one larger than the rest, all offering clear and broadside shots. The teenager quickly made the adjustment, and zeroed in on one of the larger hogs.
The blast of the big bore rifle shattered the stillness of the icy cold morning and the 225-pound sow dropped dead in her tracks, a perfect culmination of many factors leading to the young teenager's first big game kill.
Approaching the downed hog and rifle at the ready, Ethan alertly touched her left eye with the tip of the rifle barrel, confirming her demise, and that's when the celebration started. Much hand shaking and back slapping erupted as Ethan was congratulated by everyone. Dad, Grandpa, the guide and I were all ecstatic over the way the hunt had turned out, and to say Dad and Granddad were overly proud is simply an understatement.
After the sow was tagged, pictures were taken and field dressing chores were completed. The heavy pig was dragged and then loaded into the pickup bed for the ride to the meat processor. Incredibly, the entire hunt had only lasted an hour, but no one seemed to complain. And funny, no one even mentioned the cold any more.
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