A friend with a hunting lease northwest of Ft. Worth, TX invited me to go hog hunting after my annual training in Dallas. This was not only my first hog hunt, but it was my first hunt of any kind.
Since I have absolutely zero hunting equipment or firearms, he was gracious enough to provide most everything other than warm clothing. The weather was cold (for Texas) with lows around freezing and highs in the upper 30's to 40's. The first night we didn't see anything, but the next morning before dawn we saw one hog. I took a shot I shouldn't have. The hog did not have enough light on it and it was difficult to make out the riflescope crosshairs. I'm sure I also rushed the trigger pull. That was a miss.
That night I convinced myself that I needed to take it slow. A boar, possibly the same one from that morning, came into the area. He tried to enter the barbed wire to get close to the feeder, but was tripped up. He eventually walked out of sight. A few minutes later, he was back and made it through the wire. He was just to the side of the feeder with good light on him. So I forced myself to slow down and do it right. I was shooting a rifle in 22-250 so it had to be a head shot. I was absolutely shocked when the hog dropped right where it was standing. My money was against me getting the kill since I'm not much of a rifleman, not to mention unfamiliar with the rifle.
Funny thing about adrenaline. Before the kill I was freezing my ass off, but as soon as I took the shot and saw the hog drop, I never even thought about being cold the rest of the night. We were up until 2:30AM cleaning it, which was a very interesting process. To be honest, I was worried about whether I would wimp out when it came to blood and guts, but it surprisingly did not bother me in the slightest.
Fly