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#6 - TIOGA:
RUSSIAN BOAR HUNT
(Part 1) Our First
Bowhunt!
 Thursday,
May 1, 1997: My husband Armen and I were in the archery range cramming
our target practice for the trip the following day to hunt wild Russian
boar. A fellow hunter who had gone where we were heading was saying that
his hunt took him only 15 minutes. So I sort of eased up on my target practice.
"If it was that easy, it would be a piece of cake out there!" I thought.
That evening, My mate and I started packing our stuff. While Armen
was busy filling his check list of equipment needed for the hunt, I was
fussing about the hunting outfits we bought. I blindly followed the advise
of friends to get a hunting outfit one size larger than our regular size.
This choice of size, according to our numerous advisers, was in preparation
for the cold weather. We had to consider layering underneath the outfit.
The days were not cold and as I tried on the outfit it hung like pajamas
on my body. My husband just shrugged, deciding to wear the top of his hunting
outfit with his jeans and having his pants altered when we came back from
the hunt. He reasoned that boar's eyesight was not as sharp as a deer's
and camouflaging was not as essential. I just didn't shrug off the matter.
I wanted to pass by the sporting goods store to buy a size that fit well
before we started the trip the following day. My request perplexed my male
companions (my husband and son George) and I was outvoted.
It was a beautiful morning and the three
of us were extremely happy.
We had that nostalgic feeling of being
back in high school
cutting classes. This time, we were skipping
work.
They argued that we could not upset our time frame for such a trivial
matter. I had to settle with the outfit we had gotten. The two men with
me were busy checking bows, arrows, ropes, the scents from Robinson Labs
and everything else they were getting ready to stuff in our car. I, on
the other hand, was making sure I brought all the things a woman needed,
like makeup, night cream ,etc. I was applying nail polish when my spouse
reminded me "Honey, we are not going for a Holiday."..... Jeesh, will the
opposite sex never understand that a woman always has that need to be groomed....
even in the battlefield?
Friday, May 2,1997: I purposely postponed my meat marketing
day. I was anticipating a full freezer with meat good for at least three
weeks if our hunt turned out to be a success. Armen, my son and I loaded
our gear in the car at the crack of dawn. It was a beautiful morning and
the three of us were extremely happy. We had that nostalgic feeling of
being back in high school cutting classes. This time, we were skipping
work. My son was just tagging along to witness my first hunt with a video
camera.
It was a 270 mile drive from New York where we live to Tioga, Pennsylvania.
We arrived at the preserve that Friday around 5:00 p.m. We met four other
hunters, Dave Bossondet, Tim Tietema, Gary Loubert & Chad Smalligan
. They came all the way from Michigan. I was an attentive spectator, watching
the men exchange technical information on their bows. It was easy for them
to relate to each other while I was gathering my thoughts wondering what
technical information I could contribute.
Later on I quietly slipped away from the men and retreated toward the
kitchen to meet the staff, Marilyn & her assistant Dee. I felt comfortable
and seemed to fit in at once. The women and I discussed the dinner we were
going to have. I learned that buffalo meat was the menu for that weekend.
Marilyn, I learned was a genius in whipping up buffalo dishes.
It was a relief to be in a quiet place like this, away from the constant
pressure of New York City. The lead guide, Rod Gilbert briefed us about
the hunt. We would be on our way at 7:30 a.m. the next day after having
breakfast. My husband Armen and I were both tired and excited and went
to bed early.
Saturday, May 3, 1997: It was drizzling when we woke up the
next morning. I annoyed my male companions because I was still fidgeting
with my loose outfit, but in the end we ended up laughing and admiring
each other's transformation into a hunter. At least I thought we looked
like hunters. I had a camouflage backpack filled with all kinds of stuff
from camouflage thermos to a survival kit. The snack supplies I packed
could last us a week! Meanwhile my husband's backpack consisted of gadgets
to fix our bows.
He approached me quietly, "Another pack
of boars are rooting just
behind those thickets". My heart took
an immediate trip up my neck
and lodged firmly in my throat!
My husband and I had prepared for this hunt for months. My bow, a Hoyt
Rebel XT was tuned and set at 40 pounds (the maximum I could pull ). Armen
tuned and set his bow, a PSE Lightning Flight II at 58 pounds draw weight.
I chose to use the 75 grain ROCKY MT. 'Premier' broadhead due to its short
and steep blade design that reduces planing. On several previous tests,
we found out the ROCKY MT. broadhead I preferred shot tighter groups then
the other brands we have gathered. My husband chose mechanical broadheads
for the same reason. We equipped ourselves with a Maxon voice activated
radios for constant communication. We could draw and aim while communicating
through small transceiver units in our waist packs wired to headset receivers
and flexible microphones across our lips without pressing a button. My
group emerged from the lodge looking as if we were new recruits ready for
a combat reconnaissance training. "That's fashion"! I thought to myself
silently, answering the stare of fellow hunters garbed like real hunters,
all trying to hide their amusement.
We shot a few practice broadheads on a 3D Ram target courtesy of the
preserve, then met Rod for a last briefing. A young man named Clift Smith
was assigned to guide us. We proceeded on foot toward the hunting area
that was half a mile away from our lodging.
We have been studying wild boar anatomy and behavior for the past months
subsequent to the hunt and was aware that they could charge a hunter when
agitated. Russian boar are very unpredictable animals. I called Robert
Hoague and Rich Walton of Bowhunting.Net one month before the hunt. Rich
has given us plentiful pointers before and suggested a treestand for our
safety and to make sure there was a tree nearby to climb up just
in case of an attack. My husband and I have no wild boar hunting experience
whatsoever and Rich knew this would be our first big game hunt. Robert
E-mailed me his advice on how to deal with situations in case I come face
to face with the animal. "Never show any animal fear. The smallest dog
will bite you if it senses you are afraid of it. You are the hunter, let
them fear you. Stand your ground and pick your spot for a lethal shot and
put your arrow there. Never run from a dangerous animal." Yeah, right!
The Bowhunters at Tioga
L to R: Dave Bossardet, Gary Soubert, Chad Smelligan, Clift Smith
(our guide), me, Tim Tietema, Rod Gilbert (lead guide), assistant guide,
and Armen. All the bowhunters were from Michigan (except us).
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We stalked a pack of Russian boars for more than two hours. Our guide
Clift, Armen and I were 20 yards apart in single file formation. The pack
was 70 yards away from Clift who was in the lead. My son George was way
behind us. The pack kept on moving, they knew we were there, they could
smell us probably because of the food I stuffed in my hunting bag. There
was no way we could get within shooting range. The distance between us
and the animals was too far. The closer we moved, the farther they moved
away. We became tired after all those flanking maneuvers and asked our
guide to stop for a short rest. My feet were killing me, we had been going
up and down hills and crossing streams the whole time and the intermittent
drizzle bothered me.
After a short rest we pushed on. The boars we were pursuing disappeared
into the woods; but after a while of walking, I saw our guide stop, and
hand signal us to get to cover behind trees. He approached me quietly,
"Another pack of boars are rooting just behind those thickets". My heart
took an immediate trip up my neck and lodged firmly in my throat! He told
us to stay close to our trees. I was started looking for steps up the tree.
"I'll go on a wide circle and head them off, get your bows ready"!
Oh God, I thought, he's going to drive them toward us!
Suddenly Armen and I saw a whole pack of around 20 mean looking Russian
boar running straight toward our position. I glanced at Armen who was getting
ready to draw his bow. "There's my back up." I said to myself, calming
the nervousness that had been lingering inside me since the beginning of
the hunt. I wanted to burst into laughter when I saw my son George with
hands and both feet hanging on a tree limb. All the cameras hanging by
his neck and shoulder, trying frantically to get off the ground before
the stampeding wild boars got there. I took a deep breath to calm myself
down.
We were at full draw 10 yards apart when the pack came running at full
run, 25 yards across from us. I aimed at the snout of the biggest pig in
the group hoping my arrow would hit the lung area behind the front leg
when it got there. "A mistake!" I gasped. It was too late. I had let go
of my arrow. A miss. At that distance, I should have aimed at least 3 feet
ahead of the snout with a swinging lead to hit my intended target. Or not
shot at all.
I saw disappointment in Armen's eyes when I glanced at him. "Why did
you shoot'" His voice crackled over my radio headset. "He was too far and
running fast!". I did not say anything, I knew I made a wrong decision.
Before the shot I was already thinking and picturing myself bragging about
my trophy. My mind was occupied with the glory of admiration from fellow
hunters! I became so excited about everything I forgot the bowhunter's
number one rule of making a swift and fast end for the prey. My spouse
must have sensed my sadness & guilt. "Don't worry honey, next time,"
he said. Our guide added, in a comforting voice, "You'll get another chance."
As we all stood out there discussing what our next move would be, Clift
suggested that we go back to camp to have some lunch since it was past
noon time and let the boar settle down.
END PART ONE. (To be continued) |