When I became involved with WomenHunters 14 months a go, I knew the day would come that I would be writing this article. Really, I have known for several years that this day would eventually come. The circumstances were not what I imagined, the location was not one that was familiar, and the company was not then known to me, when dreams of this day crossed my mind starting back in 2000-2001.
I finally harvested my first hog. Actually, two hogs.
My best friend, Jen, and I headed up to Middleburg, Florida for Memorial Day weekend this year, 2006. We are members of the National Wild Turkey Federation’s (NWTF) Women in the Outdoors (WITO) program. We have been active with this group for about one year. We have been hunting with the Trail Ridge Longbeards (Northeast Florida Chapter of the NWTF), as they have been actively offering hunts open to women only. (We have not been on a turkey hunt yet – though we are hunting with a turkey group.)
This was our second time hunting at Spencer’s Farm in Middleburg. This is a working farm owned by the Spencer family. The farm is approximately 4,000 acres of woods and wildlife – located in the Orange Park area, close to Jacksonville. All of the Spencers have homes on the property – and there are also several cabins for guests, an outhouse, a picnic pavilion, a cleaning house with a walk-in cooler, several lakes and ponds, dozens and dozens of dirt roads that wind through the woods, and much more. We had a wonderful time on our first trip there earlier this year and were thrilled to learn we had been invited back.
This hunt was for hog and coyote. No bag limit and no size limitations. NWTF members, the Spencers, and friends of the Spencers, would be available to help with cleaning any game that was harvested. Most of us hunted with rifles, but muzzleloaders and shotguns were also allowed. You could bring your own stand or blind or use one that was provided by WITO. If you wanted a guide to hunt with, they were available; if you wanted to hunt alone or with another woman in the group, that was permitted as well.
Friday Night
We arrived at the farm around 8:30 p.m. Traffic had been bad and the drive took twice as long as it should have. Memorial Day weekend traffic. We set up camp, ate dinner and started mingling with some of the new women and chatting with the women we already knew from previous hunts and weekend seminars. It was so nice to see everyone. We all agreed that the best part was that we were all slowly starting to get to know each other, finding out a little more about each other each time we were together, and we were all starting to feel like old friends. Friday was a late night. We rode around in the woods for hours, we put corn in the various feeders around the property and we checked out the roads to see where the blinds and stands had been placed.
Saturday Morning
The morning came quickly. We woke up at 4:30 a.m., we met at 5:00 a.m. for breakfast and to discuss the game plan for the day, and then Teddy Spencer (one of the sons and the main facilitator/tour guide/host) or one of the other “assistants” took a group of us into the woods and dropped each one of us off at the stand or blind we had selected for the morning hunt. I was dropped off at a blind on the “power lines.” I sat from about 6:00 a.m. until 9:00 a.m. and never saw or heard a thing. I was a little discouraged – but was excited when I thought about all the time I had left to hunt, since it was a three-day weekend. The plan was to rest and relax during the day and then head back into the woods around 5:30 p.m. The day was very very hot. I don’t think Middleburg is any hotter than St. Petersburg where I live, but it truly felt hotter. It reminded me a lot of archery season in Perry. Hot and sticky. But that’s just part of the deal. WITO had a few things planned for us to do throughout the weekend or you were free to hike, swim, fish or just hang out.
Saturday Night
The day flew by and before long we were getting dressed, getting our gear packed and preparing to head back into the woods. Jen harvested a small hog that morning and she was pretty sure the hogs were coming back to her spot that night to feed again. We decided that we would hunt together that night – and that’s just what we did. We were hunting on a road known as the “Burnt Tractor Road.” I love the names the locals give to the roads…always a great story…Burnt Tractor Road: One time, a tractor caught on fire and burned up on that road. Burnt Tractor Road. It’s the same where we hunt in Perry. The road names (if they have a name) tell a great story.
We got set up in our blind which took a while. We were not in a big blind made for two people, but a smaller blind that is far better suited for a single hunter. Between backpacks, guns and chairs, we were crammed in there pretty tight. The bugs were not too bad, so we decided that part of my chair would sit outside of the blind, and part of the chair would be in the blind, meaning we left part of the blind unzipped. This side of the blind was backed up right to the woods so we were still very well camouflaged. We were hunting on the road and we were facing a crossing that was about 100 yards away. That was the area we were told to keep our eyes on. And this was the spot where Jen’s hog had come out that morning.
We did a lot of whispering about tons of things, as we always do when we are together. We had some excitement for a while which included me walking a few yards down the road with my gun. We thought we heard something. We knew we heard something. But we decided that we were listening to an armadillo after about 20 minutes. It was good for a laugh and it did help to kill some time. It finally started to cool down as the sun lowered in the sky. Dusk was coming. Which meant feeding time was near. I absolutely love this time of the day – because everything starts moving. In my mind, the woods kind of come alive during this last hour or so of the day. Jen and I were both experimenting with our shooting sticks for the first time that weekend. Since we had nothing to rest our guns on, we decided to make this purchase before our trip - as it was only bound to help steady us. It was about 8:00 p.m. and I remember looking over at Jen and whispering to her that I was going to raise my rifle up and rest it on the bipod and take a look through my scope. I was just preparing to lift the barrel of the gun up and slip it through the small window in the blind, when I glanced through the window and up the road. A HOG! Jen was looking to her right and when I went to tell her there was a hog on the road – it came out in a very strange breathless whisper – which I believe was due to extreme excitement. Her eyes kind of popped out of her head as she looked up the road to the crossing. By that time, several hogs had hit the road. We got in position, which meant I had to move my chair and kneel down. Jen was able to shoot from her chair. Jen had mentioned earlier that if multiple hogs came out we needed to have a plan of action. We needed to talk through it deciding who would take which hog and we also agreed to count down and shoot at the same time – so we both would have a shot. In all honesty, Jen and I had both been hunting for years with our spouses and families, but it was only in recent months that we both have been carrying guns with the goal of harvesting game. Jen had that chance in Texas while hunting with her brother, where she took a buck and a couple hogs. My point here is that even though Jen was still new to hunting and harvesting, I am pretty sure all she cared about was me getting a nice clean shot and a chance of my own to harvest my first hog.
We whispered back and forth trying to decide who was going to shoot at which hog. The tricky part was once we decided which hog we wanted; we needed them both to turn broadside, at the same time, so we could shoot at the same time.
I can remember having a lot of trouble breathing. I know I was talking out loud as I reminded myself to breath, relax, calm down and to take my time. At one point I thought I was holding my breath. I went from nearly hyperventilating to holding my breath all within a matter of minutes. Interesting what adrenaline and excitement and a pack of hogs will do to a woman! Jen and I had made our decision: she wanted the black hog with the white head, and I wanted the all black hog. There were other medium-sized hogs on the road and some baby hogs too. I remember Jen whispering that she had forgotten which hog she was supposed to be aiming for. I had to laugh, I was so thankful she said something, as I had forgotten too. We reminded ourselves of our original decisions and we counted down. I put my crosshairs on the hog and fired. Some hogs ran left, and some ran right. I was pretty sure mine ran to the right. One baby hog was left on the road, running around, confused, and unsure of where to go. While I was watching this, I was listening to the loud squeals of a wounded hog as it ran through the woods on my left. This had to be Jen’s hog I thought.
Jen and I kind of looked at each other as we started to loudly whisper about everything that had just occurred. Our next decision was when to get out of our blind and check the road for a blood trail. We waited only a few minutes – because it was getting dark and we wanted to have a few minutes of light to start looking for our hogs. I was pretty sure I hit mine. I thought I had, but I was not 100% sure. Jen was pretty sure she missed. But she too was not 100%. When we got up the road, there was blood in the road. We found the blood trail, which was not easy, and off we went into the woods.
There she was; my black hog. It ended up being a 150-pound sow. She had only made it about 25 yards. This was a strange moment for me. I was excited, surprised, happy and proud. But something was missing. I had wondered and feared what that moment would feel like without Bo (my late husband). And that day had arrived. It was not what I expected. I was not full of the emotion that I thought I would have been filled with. I felt numb. Jen was close behind me, and we decided to drag the sow out to the road. Jen told me later that she cried throughout the whole ordeal. I know she was very proud of me and also very sad for me at the same time.
Congratulatory hugs came once everyone gathered. Lots of smiles, pictures and support. Those that know my story stayed pretty close. Others who didn’t know the importance of this moment, wandered off pretty quickly. I was excited and happy, yes. But again, I was feeling a little numb to the whole thing. Maybe I was trying not to think about things too much. I am not really sure. I only know that the emotion that seemed to be lacking at that moment, was being bottled up only to be released the next day.
I will say here that we did not find Jen’s hog. We did look. There was no blood on that side of the road. But I had heard the squealing. I knew her hog was laid up back there somewhere. I knew she was frustrated about not finding her hog, but I knew she was very happy we had found mine.
I gutted my hog that night with a lot of direction and help from one of the guys. We decided to put her in the walk-in cooler for the night with some of the other harvests from that day. We would be skinning and quartering the next day.
Sunday Morning
We again had gone to bed very late, and it seemed as though I had just closed my eyes and it was 4:30 a.m. and time to get up again. The same routine as the day before made it easy to half-sleep-walk through getting dressed and getting down to the pavilion for our morning meeting. After talking with Vic, one of the guys who work on the farm, and who was also helping out over the weekend, we decided I would be hunting at the “graveyard.” He said this was a beautiful spot and that he had seen lots of deer and hog from his stand located there. He had also killed a nice hog at this spot. I sat in a blind across from where Vic’s stand was located. I could see behind me for a couple hundred yards and also in front of me a couple hundred yards. I could see down a small overgrown side road only a few yards. I saw three otters that morning and I listened to the birds and the squirrels. But no hogs. I was not feeling quite as discouraged as I did on day one, because truly I had achieved my goal of taking my first hog. I must say though that I did have a case of hog fever; I was eager to get another hog at this point. My time in my blind flew by. Before long, Vic was back to pick me up. Jen and I napped this day, trying to catch up on some sleep from two nights of being up late, and from hunting hard on day one. We also took a ride, we sighted in Jen’s gun and we did some exploring. The one big difference on this day was the rain. And boy did it rain…and rain and rain and rain. It poured. It didn’t seem like it would ever stop. But we knew it would not stop us from hunting that evening. Before long it was time to get ready to head back into the woods. The hogs love the rain. We knew they would be moving.
On this morning, a woman named Carol hunted in “Jen’s blind” on the “Burnt Tractor Road.” Carol took her first hog that morning. While looking for her hog, she came across another hog. As it turned out, when Jen missed her hog on Saturday night, she didn’t miss entirely; she had hit a smaller hog who was standing behind her hog. Unfortunately, the flies got to this hog before we did, but we were still glad we found him. We knew the squealing had come from somewhere and now we knew where.
Sunday Night
I decided to go back to the “graveyard” for the evening hunt. By the way, I was hunting from the road, but there was a small graveyard back behind me a few hundred yards. Apparently it was not a Spencer family graveyard like I had assumed. It was very old – from the 1800s. It was totally overgrown and it had a gate around it. Vic had mentioned that this was a great evening spot for hunting. So back I went. I sat in my blind and listened to the woods around me. I was alone now, and I definitely was using this time to do some thinking and reflecting on things. Thoughts creep in during these quiet hours. Time passed, I was eager for night to come. I spent the first two hours of the evening battling the rain and the leaks in the blind. It wasn’t terrible, just kind of annoying. Drip, drip, on my head – relocate to another corner of the blind, drip, drip, on my neck. Eventually the rain stopped.
One other thing to note about hunting at Spencer’s Farm…you will be surrounded by cows: in the woods, at your blind, in your stand, in your tent, on your hikes; wherever you go, you will have cows around you. This took a little getting used to. Where we hunt in Perry, there are no cows roaming the roads, so this was a little unsettling at first. We were told the cows were friendly and that there was nothing to worry about. I did have two cows come right up to my blind and look in at me. I must admit, darkness does not scare me, hogs do not scare me, being alone in the woods does not scare me, but seeing a very large cow eyeball peering in at me – scared me. A lot. I got so scared, I jumped up and went and crouched down on the other side of the blind, with my gun, ready to unzip and hop out if the cow was going to pull a fast one and try to mess with me. Really, these are not violent hateful animals. But I did feel threatened for a minute. The cows realized I had no feed for them and off they went.
Back to my seat and into position. Dusk came, and I was ready. I was thinking to myself that it was starting to get late and that I might not see anything on this night…and then on cue, out walked a big boar hog. Yikes. He was huge, at least in my experience. And he was close by. We laughed later because I had been describing him to be 50 feet from me, or closer - but as it turned out, he was more like 50 yards from me. He came on to the road very cautiously. He looked around, and then stepped back into the brush. He popped out again, and then back again. And then he walked out on to the road. He was eating corn. He was broadside this whole time. I just kept watching. He turned and we were now face to face. He seemed to be looking right at me. I remember thinking how huge his ears looked. They were perked up, which reminded me a lot of my dog, Neenee. He turned again and continued to eat the corn that littered the road. I will tell you that my immediate thought was, “I am not waiting. I am going to get this one.” I did think for a second about waiting, just to see if any other hogs were with him. But the seconds were flying by, and I was pretty sure he was alone. After only three to four VERY LONG minutes of watching, I raised my rifle, placed the crosshairs on him and fired. Down he went, right there!
And then the tears started. Full blown sobs really. All the emotion that seemed to be missing for my first harvest without my sweet husband Bo hit me right then and there. I am not sure why it was the second hog that did it for me. Perhaps it was the fact that I was all alone, and feeling very alone. The floodgates had opened. I cried and cried. I called Jen on her cell phone. She was hunting a few miles from me and had her phone on silent. So then we cried together. I am so lucky to have a friend who somehow, “gets it.”
Here’s what it comes down to: It was a nice weekend overall - but like everything, very bittersweet, as this, my first harvest, was not something I was planning on ever doing without Bo. My husband, my friend, my teacher, my hunting partner, my world; we both thought he would be with me the first time I got a hog. We wouldn’t have had it any other way. So as happy and proud as I was, it was equally as painful for me. It helped to have Jen with me over the weekend. She made it tolerable.
I hate it that Bo is missing my new and recent hunting experiences. I can’t stand it that I have to do all of these things with other people when it should be him. I am overwhelmingly sad each time I step outside – because Bo is not here to share these new experiences with me. It pains me terribly to think that his hunting days here on earth are over – because quite honestly it was one of the things he lived for. Absolutely.
That weekend, while I sat in the woods in the afternoon on both Saturday and Sunday, with Bo’s .30-06 resting between my legs, waiting for hogs, Bo’s parents and sister, her husband, and their children, went out on the family boat together for the first time in 21 months.
We find ways to honor Bo each and every day. And on Memorial Day weekend it was in the woods and on the water…
I know how proud Bo would be. I know how proud Bo is. Of all of us.
