Well the flooding has finally subsided and I FINALLY got to go out yesterday to chase pigs. So me and Mike loaded up in his truck and headed out. He wanted to stop to sight in his new Stainless Guide Gun in 45-70. No problem. I’ll pop a few round with my AR-47 to verify zero. 5 rounds later I’m confirmed. Now it’s Mike’s turn. Get’s it sighted in and tell me to shoot it to confirm. No worries. I have several 45-70’s. And then it touched it off....That scope hit me so hard it actually dazed me. Turn to Mike and he’s dying.
“Did it cut me?”
(Laughing uncontrollably) “No but that looked like it hurt! You look like you just took a straight right from Mike Tyson.”
“Dang it hurts....and it’s swelling already.”
It’s hard to be mad at him because it really was funny. But I had a quarter sized welt in less than 2 minutes. Good news: I did hit dead center. Bad news, it’s swollen so much it’s affecting my vision. It’s like I have a shadow over my eye.
When Mike gets tired of his guns, he always calls me to see if I’m interested. I told him not to bother when he’s done with that one.
So now we’re in the woods. Covered from back of the head to toe in OFF. This place is notorious for ticks. He went one way, I went another. I know where the pigs should be. They should be bedded down under laydowns around big rock. And I was right (yay me). But it’s so humid sweat is just pouring off my forehead. And it hurts to wipe my eyes. That’s a conundrum.
So anyways, after walking through my 200th spider web, I come across a big group of trees knocked down by the storms and I hear the distinct “woof” of a hog. Turn, and 5 busted out of the tree. But one, one stopped broadside. Throw my rifle up, take the safety off and “clank”. I’d hit my friggin mag release. And the hog takes off. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID! Pick up the mag, quietly put it back in and just stand there feeling like an idiot. I’m 2 miles into the Amazon and probably just blew the only shot I was going to get. Not bad for my first day back in the woods.
So I’m standing there all frustrated and said screw it, I need a smoke. I’ll smoke one, chill out, and it will be ok. Reach in my pocket grab my smokes and reach for my lighter. Hey!! Guess who left their lighter in the truck!? Yep. This guy. Now I want one even more. Surely I have one in my backpack. After a couple of minutes I have my answer. Negative.
I just happen to look up and see a small black thing swooshing next to a tree. I’ll be danged. I kneel next to a tree and post up. Hog steps out and I touch one off. Another decent hog steps out and I squeeze another.....nothing. Turn my gun and my mag was missing. It was laying on the ground again. I hadn’t set it hard enough. And the pig trots off. Pick up the mag again, slam it into the well, and chamber another round. I’ll go see if I even hit the damn pig. The way my day is going probably not.
So I walk to where the pig was standing when I shot. Sure enough, there’s blood! Hey! Things are starting to look up! Follow the blood about 30 yards and find a 100-125lb sow laying dead as could be. Good shot too. Ok. This is turning out alright. And then a horsefly flew up and smacked me right between my eyes. Well what’s your reaction when a bug does that? I know what mine is. You smack the crap out of yourself trying to kill the bug. And I did. Right on that quarter sized welt. And I didn’t even get the fly. Took a step back and stepped on a loose rock. “Down goes Frazier!!” Screw the pig. Screw you Murphy. I’m going home.
“Did it cut me?”
(Laughing uncontrollably) “No but that looked like it hurt! You look like you just took a straight right from Mike Tyson.”
“Dang it hurts....and it’s swelling already.”
It’s hard to be mad at him because it really was funny. But I had a quarter sized welt in less than 2 minutes. Good news: I did hit dead center. Bad news, it’s swollen so much it’s affecting my vision. It’s like I have a shadow over my eye.
When Mike gets tired of his guns, he always calls me to see if I’m interested. I told him not to bother when he’s done with that one.
So now we’re in the woods. Covered from back of the head to toe in OFF. This place is notorious for ticks. He went one way, I went another. I know where the pigs should be. They should be bedded down under laydowns around big rock. And I was right (yay me). But it’s so humid sweat is just pouring off my forehead. And it hurts to wipe my eyes. That’s a conundrum.
So anyways, after walking through my 200th spider web, I come across a big group of trees knocked down by the storms and I hear the distinct “woof” of a hog. Turn, and 5 busted out of the tree. But one, one stopped broadside. Throw my rifle up, take the safety off and “clank”. I’d hit my friggin mag release. And the hog takes off. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID! Pick up the mag, quietly put it back in and just stand there feeling like an idiot. I’m 2 miles into the Amazon and probably just blew the only shot I was going to get. Not bad for my first day back in the woods.
So I’m standing there all frustrated and said screw it, I need a smoke. I’ll smoke one, chill out, and it will be ok. Reach in my pocket grab my smokes and reach for my lighter. Hey!! Guess who left their lighter in the truck!? Yep. This guy. Now I want one even more. Surely I have one in my backpack. After a couple of minutes I have my answer. Negative.
I just happen to look up and see a small black thing swooshing next to a tree. I’ll be danged. I kneel next to a tree and post up. Hog steps out and I touch one off. Another decent hog steps out and I squeeze another.....nothing. Turn my gun and my mag was missing. It was laying on the ground again. I hadn’t set it hard enough. And the pig trots off. Pick up the mag again, slam it into the well, and chamber another round. I’ll go see if I even hit the damn pig. The way my day is going probably not.
So I walk to where the pig was standing when I shot. Sure enough, there’s blood! Hey! Things are starting to look up! Follow the blood about 30 yards and find a 100-125lb sow laying dead as could be. Good shot too. Ok. This is turning out alright. And then a horsefly flew up and smacked me right between my eyes. Well what’s your reaction when a bug does that? I know what mine is. You smack the crap out of yourself trying to kill the bug. And I did. Right on that quarter sized welt. And I didn’t even get the fly. Took a step back and stepped on a loose rock. “Down goes Frazier!!” Screw the pig. Screw you Murphy. I’m going home.