Back Home Again
Back home again, you beauty, can’t
wait to get out in the bush and bust a couple. After
relocating to the coast for work, I like nothing better than
heading back over the mountain and breathing in some of that
fantastic New England air, and what better way is there than
going ‘pigchasin’.
I normally catch up with a few mates and organise a couple
of quick runs before I need to head east again, but this
time I had other things to do, a hunt being the last thing
on my mind. After calling in to see Clarky and Jo, he
convinced me a short hunt wouldn’t go astray, between you
and me he didn’t have to be very convincing, so a hunt was
planned early the following day.
There’s one thing I didn’t miss when I moved to the coast,
the 3.30am starts, but you can’t catch them in bed. We had
about an hours drive in front of us, and after doing the roo
run, finally arrived at the property and while letting the
dogs do their thing after being cooped up for an hour, we
discussed the proposed route and what our success rate may
be.
The country consisted of fairly steep hills and deep
gullies, covered by very thick waist high grass, which
really makes the dogs work hard for success. We planned on
driving the tracks, and letting the dogs work off the back,
this style of hunting was created for us old blokes after
the invention of ‘Ute Finders’. Both dogs, Ned and Max were
experienced with this type of hunting and more than capable
of catching pigs in the heavy cover.
The first few kilometres saw us climbing up a fairly
substantial ridge and at this stage no hint of dawn in the
east, then about half a K shy of the top, the dogs jumped
and disappeared into the grass. We could hear them pushing
through the grass about 20 meters from the truck, a couple
of minutes passing with the dogs methodically working an
area of around 100 square meters, before we heard a boar
‘blow’, just a whoosh of air and a grunt as he voiced his
disgust at being found and he was out of there big time.
Both Clarky and I couldn’t believe our luck, an easy one to
start the day, but this old hog must have known the drill;
he blew both dogs off, and it took a lot of walking and
calling before we finally found them at the bottom of the
ridge about an hour later. The climb back to the vehicle
really took it out of the dogs, not to mention this old
fart, being summer the temperature was now in the mid 30’s
and climbing.
The dogs were that hot they were starting to stagger, so
first priority was to get them to water. We were nearly to a
dam when the dogs jumped again, initially we thought they
could smell the water and couldn’t wait to get there, but
they ignored it completely. By the way they were working the
ground; pigs had been feeding on the lush growth around the
dam and adjacent gullies. The heat was still having an
effect on the dogs and they were doing it tough, and we were
just about to call them in when they found a boar holed up
in the long grass.
The dog god kicked in here and the boar bolted straight into
the dam, and although the dogs were holding him they were at
least cooling down to a certain degree. Clarky quickly
grabbed the pig and dragged him out of the dam, threw him
and stuck him as fast as he could. The dogs could now have a
drink and get a well deserved rest. The boar was around the
50 kilo mark and only a young pig by the look of him. We
gutted and hung him on the back to fill the freezer for the
dogs.
We were now even, pigs one, dogs one as we headed off to
drive by a thick patch of scrub and some big gullies. The
next couple of K’s revealed nothing other than a bit of
nosing here and there that indicated sows and suckers had
been through a couple of days ago. Half way up another ridge
the dogs jumped again and headed off around the face of the
ridge, looking very keen. Clarky and I followed as fast as
we could; finally reaching a good vantage point looking out
over the country the dogs were working. Glimpses of the dogs
indicated they were working the whole ridge face and the
full length of a big gully with no results. Once or twice
they started heading back but would cross fresh scent and
away they would go again.
We eventually called them in, ever mindful of the increasing
temperature and the chance of over heating the dogs. Back in
the truck we decided we would take the shortest track out of
the property and call it a day. We hadn’t gone three hundred
meters when Clarky spotted a good boar about half a
kilometre away making a run for it. We decided to try and
cut him off on foot, heading around the top of the gully he
was last seen disappearing into. Trying to run through waist
high grass on a very steep hill was bloody hard going but we
persevered, finally making it around the gully just in time
to see him go up over the top on the other side.
We continued on, already having given it a good shot we
didn’t want to throw it in now. We finally reached the spot
he was last seen, with the dogs long gone by this stage. A
netting fence line ran around the top of the ridge and we
assumed he would have followed this as we started following
the fence in what could be best described as a staggering
stagger. Now; we were in danger of over heating, and we do
this for fun eh.
We carried on for around a hundred meters before we pulled
up to listen for the dogs, well that’s the excuse we used
anyway. When we eventually heard them they were over the
fence, down in a big gorge that really took some effort to
remain on our feet while trying to close the gap. The whole
way down we were commenting that it wouldn’t be so bad if we
didn’t have to come back the same way.
We eventually got to the dogs and despatched the boar they
had been holding for around 10 to 15 minutes. He was around
the 60 kilo mark with a good set of fangs, particularly for
this area. Inspecting the dogs for damage, we were relieved
to find only superficial wounds before finding a good puddle
of water for the dogs to cool down. A few photos later we
then crawled, and I mean crawled back out of the gorge.
When we finally got back the vehicle we were completely
done, Clarky did a bloody good job finding the energy to
push in the clutch. Then; like that first pig we found but
didn’t catch, we were out of there, big time.
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