Uhunt Mag Information

• Posted By : UHUNT APP - Jesse Farr
• Posted On : Feb 05, 2020
• Views : 4671
• Likes : 8
• Category : PIG DOGGING » STORIES
• Description : “We snuck in slowly. We really didn’t want to stuff this up after all we had done”

Overview

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  By Harley Sampson 

  It’s was a pretty usual Friday afternoon for us, loading up a few dogs, fueling up the Ute and filling up the esky. Ready for a night in the Hills chasing those big elusive old Boars along the Great Dividing Range, some of the hardest terrain in the country! Deep, steep timbered Gullies and long winding Creek systems often choked with Tea Tree, Bidi Bush, Blackberry and Briar or Ferns are the norm. It makes a great cover for pigs but its also hard on the dogs. In a normal season of good average rain, these areas are full of feed and water giving the pigs perfect conditions to grow quickly, and all the walking up and down mountains keeps them super fit and strong. We didn’t have much of a plan on this particular hunt. Our mate Andy was visiting while he was off work recovering from an Achilles heel injury, so as you can imagine, he wasn’t planning on doing much running in this rough country. He was just happy to catch up a bit, have a few beers, and enjoy the night. My mate Luke was driving so I was on gate duty as we hit the property just on dusk. There was a pretty brisk breeze blowing as I opened the first gate and with a forecast of - 4 so you know what I was thinking! After a quick chat with the owner, he let us know of some rain the night before which meant the really steep tracks were a no go, because in this steep country if a vehicle slides off the road your in big trouble! We weren’t out to break any records tonight anyway, so a leisurely drive around the main tracks sounded good to us. (If only we knew what was coming!) The three dogs were all on the back as we headed for the River country. 
  
  
  
  
  
  We had Luke’s kelpie Chuck his a Bully/Stag/Stumpy & we also had my two dogs both Stumpys Stag and my old bitch May. They had a good wind and were all keenly scenting out the side as we poked slowly along the river. But we were pretty casual actually, having a laugh and mucking about when all three dogs flew off the truck and down the track in front of the headlights and made a sharp right turn straight up the embankment and up the steep ridge. Luke turned off the truck as I said, “Shit that was keen mate, might be nice and close, hey.” All was quiet, but we could hear the dogs moving fast through the undergrowth, so I whipped out the tracker right as we heard Chuck the kelpie let out a couple of yaps, quickly followed by the other two, and then that unmistakable sound of a big scrap with an old mountain boar! The smiles lit up. But then silence again. We were all thinking the same thing! What’s going on here! “It was only 200 meters up,” I said as I watched the tracker, all three were together running flat out across the mountain. “Come on pull him up you bastards!” I thought, but it was nothing but silence and a tracker saying 400m, 500m, 600m, 700m, 800m and dropped out! “Bugger, he’s gone,” Luke said as he started the truck. We’ll head down towards them to get around where we should pick up connection, but I’d say he’s gone. “He sounded good too hey,” Luke said. We drove to the next gate about 1km down the track, and picked them up again but all at different distances. Chuck was only 200m, and on his way back, Stag was 600m and still going but slowly, and May was 950m and still trucking. 
  
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  Unfortunately, she was heading straight for Gorge country! Chuck jumped on so we were about to take off and fly up another track to make up ground, but I noticed Stag was coming back so we had to wait for him and I was starting to doubt our chances of nailing this fella. By the time Stag got back, old May had dropped out at 1.2km, and we had to go around the long way due to the wet weather. It was probably about an hour from when they first hit him to when we finally pick her up again at the end of the road, and she was treed and barking 1.2km from us. “She’s got the bastard,” I said to the other fellas!  I was feeling proud, but Luke soon reminded me there were two big Gullies in between her and us and she was down in a Gorge! We knew Andy wasn’t coming on this trek with his bung leg, so Luke and I gathered our gear, grabbed the other two dogs, and headed off with tracker in hand. We couldn’t hear a thing. If we didn’t have trackers, we wouldn’t have had a clue where she was! She stayed treed but dropped in and out as we slowly climbed over two big Hills about 400 - 500 meters high, through the two Creeks in between but as I got over the last bit I could hear the old girl singing up in the Gorge! “She’s still got him!” I yelled at Luke while struggling to breathe. But the other dogs couldn’t seem to hear or weren’t interested. About 400m to go and they finally perked up and ran off towards her barking, I pulled up for a rest and to see how Luke was going, he was a little way behind but still making ground. When he made it to where I was, we were happy to hear the sweet sound of all three dogs bailing hard! Now we could relax a little and suck in the big ones to recover. 
  
  
  
  We snuck in slowly. We really didn’t want to stuff this up after all we had done, so it was an “easy does it” approach. I was close now, but the cover was to thick to see anything, we could smell him, and by the way, the dogs were bailing I knew he was big! Luke came up beside me as we both shone our head torches through the undergrowth to see a big old black boar with three dogs in his face and he was very edgy. I quickly said to Luke, “Shoot him, quick mate, he’s gonna break!” Luke loaded and raised his .223 and ‘Bang.’ The big fella went down, and the dogs flew in for a well-earned chew on this proper hard running mountain boar !! It was a big pat and praise for old May the Stumpy. Handshakes pats on the back and deep breaths for us as we looked over a thumper of a hog. Luke said, “We are weighing that bastard for sure mate!” But unfortunately, when we left the truck, I grabbed the wrong backpack that didn’t have the scales! Unbelievable, but anyway we got some good pics, and I was proud as punch of old May for her determination on this big brute. We both agreed at least 100 kg, so that is a cracker in this country. We worked out it was over 3 km from where they hit him, and it took us over 2 hours to get there. Not a bad effort, I reckon! By the time we got back to Andy at the Ute, it was covered in frost, and he was freezing cold! He said he couldn’t hear a thing, not even the gunshot! Thank god for trackers!! Not sure why he didn’t have the heater running flat out! I know I would of after all that’s the enjoyment of waiting in the car when it’s cold.
  
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