We headed away to visit a mate at Taroom as his second dirt magnet arrives in June and he will not be able to get down for the regular boys hunt in August. We travel from my parents in Warialda on good friday and overnight in Taroom. The first night at my mates place and another fella Ricky takes us for a look on a local block. After driving for a little while we go for a night-time walk and I know Ricky's serious when he grabs his little esky to walk around the paddock. No wonder we have no hope in the football. No pigs caught but a look at some nice country.
We pack up saturday morning and begin the journey into the bush. Its a nice drive with some spectacular sandstone country, scrub cattle, brumbies, creek crossings and all sorts of stuff. We get to the camp and set up and head out for a quick look down the creek. The normal hotspots don't produce a pig and we are heading back about 5.00pm when we check out a wallow beside the road. The dogs float and before I can grab a headlamp Rose and Holly are 700 - 900 - 1.1km. Sh*t. I go back for a headlamp. The dogs go 700m up the creek and then turned right and climbed up through a saddle in the hills and come back towards us, but with a hill in between. I walk as fast as I can and Nibbles turns up after doing some backscenting. I get to the top of the saddle, expecting the dogs to at least be in hearing. I look at the tracker and my mouth goes dry. The dogs are 1.6km and still going. They still haven't stopped this fella. Sh*t, whats going on?
The tracker beeps and shows the dogs have done a massive U-turn and are tree'd not far off the road we've come in on (that'd be bloody right). Nibbles hears the barking from 1km away and she's off. I think when Nibbles gets there she tried to lug and the boar breaks and crosses the road and heads up into some really scrubby and rocky country. They stop him again and I'm still 600m away. C'mon old legs.
I close in and it sounds like they have an escaped grizzly bear bailed up. Within 20m and its a sort of a rolling, fighting bail. I thought they'd have him in a gully but he's up off to the side a little. I try to take some footage but when he faces me I try for a between the eyes shot and cock it up. He snorts and is off again. The dogs stick with him and stop him in some thick softwood scrub. Fark its thick. The boars getting tired and I can hear him panting heavily. He tries to break and the dogs mob him. I walk in to a couple of meters and sense the dogs are about to let go. I fire a quick shot into his shoulder and he snorts again and is off. (Swearing deleted) He stops 20m away and with his bum to me. I try to grab his tail and he turns on me. I back peddle and he's coming after me. As he turns I jam the barrel in his ribs to fend him off and pull the trigger. The shot knocks the wind out of him a little and he staggers off. The dogs bail him again against a log. I move my headlamp a little and it improves my ability to see through the red dot. He's looking sideways and I shoot him in the temple (finally). He's down.
I check the dogs and apart from a few very near misses and a stab wound to Nibbles' shoulder all are ok. The boar is a monster, big in every way and wide through the body. I think he's the best I've ever caught with the BMC and certainly the hardest, if I had to guess a weight, I'd say he'd be 100-110kg at the box? After a 3km slog I'm still 2km (or so I though) from the truck. I have a little breather and find the dogs some water on the way down off the hill. I'd marked the track on my GPS when I crossed it as I'm worried about my headlamp batteries packing it in. Three hundred or so meters down and I can see headlights - you fKn beauty. My mate heard me and brought the ute closer. His first works where legendary. "The good news is I've been back to camp and got you four beers, I thought you'd be thirsty". He added "the bad news is you were so long I drank three". Back to camp to tell the stories, laughing and recounting. Went to bed a happy old pighunter.
