Hunting Season: Snipe Island, 2016

So I made it back from hunting last week.  I have been able to think on things properly, and feel like I can put together a pretty good, although pretty long blog.  I had my computer up there, so I posted what happened to me the next day on Facebook.  So I will copy and paste what I originally posted, and then edit and expound on my thoughts. 

This year we didn't get to go on the quota hunt.  We all had things to do at that time.  So we had the week of Thanksgiving off, so my Dad (John L.) and our hunting buddy, John W. left on the Thursday before Thanksgiving.  Due to attending school I left on Friday after class.

We didn't hunt at our usual place, Hickory Mound, which is 15 miles from the town of Perry, Fl.  We decided to hunt next door (to the west) at a place called Snipe Island.  Word had gotten around that the hunting was much better there.  It was also much easier to hunt that year, in that, they had not had rain for a while, and I could walk in my regular hiking boots there.  That made it nice as I have a nice broken in set of Columbia boots.


This is my post after hunting Saturday, Nov. 19th, 2016.  I wrote this on Sunday morning (Nov. 20th.) at 9:54 AM.

I wasn't able to post last night due to a series of strange happenings. First off, I shot a hog at 4:50 PM, but I just made it mad.  I didn't realize it at the time.  I thought I hit it, and wounded it.  I called Dad on the handheld CB, and it took him about ten minutes to make it over to me.  Although, a lot of that time was spent getting down from his tree-stand.

As I was in my tree-stand, I pointed Dad down the path to where I thought the hog was.  The path was about 40 yards from me, and brush blocked my view of where I thought the hog was.  Dad used his tracking skills that he hadn't used in years.  He ended up walking within 10 yard of it, and then.... IT FREAKIN' CHARGED HIM!!! No, I'm not making this up.

It was only 10 yards from him. Dad shot four times, and the hog turned tail. I saw it 150 yards away  running through the brush into the next county. Dad says he is okay. His pants need a good washing, but he's okay.  Again, I am not trying to pull an April Fools in November. A big 200 pound (most likely boar) hog tried to run over Dad.

And that's not the end of it. So we were waiting for our hunting partner John to come out of the woods. He comes out at his usual pitch black darkness time of night. But then he tells me that I saved his life.  I thought, "What?" 

Earlier in the day I showed him how to use his new personal GPS toy. Admittedly, he's still not quite up on electronics. But I plugged in the truck's location on his GPS, and showed him how to use it.
He was still kind of iffy on how to use it, but carried it with him anyways. When he decided to come out the woods, he took his compass out, and that's when he noticed it had come apart. In other words, no compass, and he's out there in the dark.  And this was the time of month where there was no moon.  It was, "you can't see your hand in front of you" kind of dark.

So he takes out his GPS, and he at least starts moving in the direction where the distance towards the truck is getting shorter. He ended up going through some dense woods, but he made it to the truck.  Once he got to the truck he thanked me many times.  I don't think he's ever done that.

So it got down to 29 degrees last night (from Friday night to Saturday morning,) and with it being a late night for all of us, we decided to sleep in this morning. There was no way I was going to be able to get Dad and John W. out of bed at 5 AM with it being 29 degrees out. So we decided to sleep in.

And you know what? I still woke up exactly at 5:00 AM. On the dot. Exactly. But I did manage to go back to sleep. Now I am up and about. We are going to go order breakfast at Poncey's Restaurant.
I told Dad that, "Only winners get breakfast," but he said we needed to eat so that we could go back out there, and bag something.

I'm still feeling a bit depressed. In my life I have shot 5 hogs. I recovered 3 of them. One was so big, I probably just torqued it off, and the other was this one. I hate wounding an animal, and having it run off like that, but it has happened to every hunter.

So I will get back out there this evening. I will say this. This place we are hunting this year, (Snipe Island,) is full of game. I saw a man take a hog out on a trailer it was so big.  It looked like it was part bear.  It was a true 300 pounder.  And another hunter, Zack, who is hunting the same area as us, managed to take out a 6 point buck. So there is a lot more game here than at Hickory Mound.

Okay, let me hunt down some breakfast. I'll be careful out there. Take care everyone.

I managed to get back to my computer that night, Saturday, Nov. 20th, 2016 at 9:35 PM.

I'm back at the camping trailer tonight. Today we slept in, and still ended up with a late start to the evening hunt. I did manage to see a bird of prey. It was bigger than a red shouldered hawk, but smaller than an osprey. It was diving through the trees so I didn't get a good look at it. I'm not sure what kind of bird it was.

Dad did see a few owls, and we both had squirrels acting.... well squirrely. They were throwing stuff all over the place including at palmettos.  And when the acorns hit the palmettos the sound would carry through the trees like crazy.

We will start out a bit later than we usually do in the morning. It could have something to do with it being 31 degrees in the morning, and not being able to drag the retired folk out of bed in that weather.

So we are planning to really put a lot of time in the woods tomorrow. I don't know when I will be able to check back in. So if you send me a message give me time to get back to you. Take care.

Here's my post from the evening of Monday Nov. 28th, 2016 at 9:56 PM.

Today was a weird day. Here's what happened.

I used some cardboard to check my gun's shot pattern. I have some older shells that didn't really pattern too well. That's strange since they are Remington shells, and my gun is a Remington 1100. It usually shoots Remington shells well. I shot some newer Remington shells, and they didn't pattern that well either.

The other thing was that they sounded underpowered.  I tried some Winchester shells I had, and they patterned the best of all of them. They also had more kick (power.) So I am using those Winchester shells for the rest of my hunt.

This leads me to think I just flat missed the hog. But I'm still not sure why it laid under the palmetto bush instead of running. I wonder if I hit it in a place where it stung it, but not hurt it.

We had a late start to the day due to being up late yesterday. As we were driving we had two does jump the road 300 yards away. Where we were driving through was still private property on each side of the road. We hadn't made it to the hunt area quite yet.

Nothing happened in the morning, and nothing happened in the evening. Dad and I planned to get out of our treestands at 5:30 PM. At 5:28 PM I heard all sorts of racket. I thought a turkey and a squirrel were going at it. I called Dad on the walkie-talkie, and as I was doing so, I saw an owl come out from where I had heard the noise.

It landed within 15 yards of me, but high up in a tree. It was amazing. I was talking to Dad when all of this happened. I told him to hang on while I got my camera. I managed to hoist my bag up, get my camera out, and power it up. However when I looked down to power it up, the owl flew somewhere else. I would have loved to have gotten film footage of it.

(Sidnote:  I found out later that the owl was a Great Horned Owl.  Their color patterns can vary from brown to grey.  This one had a lot of grey on it.   It was also very tall.  It was probably the bird of prey I saw the day before.  It looked a lot like this one.)

So Dad and I are making our way down the trail to get to the truck. The squirrels start making all sorts of racket. I hear the woods just come alive. It's now about 5:50 PM. I hear some rustling, and look over to see!!!!...... an armadillo. So we keep walking.

We are about 75 yards from the truck when I hear another loud crash and bang in the woods. It's so dark I can't really see anything. Whatever it is, is making a lot of noise. I almost wondered if it was another hunter it was making so much noise. I looked around for a hog, but couldn't see any movement.

I slipped my tree-stand off my back, and walked into the woods. Whatever it was stopped moving. I suspected it was another armadillo. I couldn't see anything by this point. It was 6:00 PM after all. So I made it back to the trail.

That's when I heard yet another crash. Dad saw it immediately. This time, to the right, was two giant birds ( I believe they were vultures) rising out of the treeline. What I think happened was that they had sat on a dead branch, and it broke, then fell onto a palmetto making a racket. The birds took off in flight. So we continued onto the truck.

We then drove down the road to pick up John W. We told him of our strange happenings, and he told us that not much had happened to him.

Once we made it to Highway 98, Dad started noticing deer on the road. I thought he was having fun with us, in that, I hadn't seen them. But then, I started seeing them. One after another after another. I think I had counted up to 15 deer (all does,) before I thought to get my camera out. Of course, then there were no more deer.

So we decided to eat at Poncey's Restaurant. It has amazing food, and that small town feel to it. I am still stuffed.

So I have one more day of hunting tomorrow. Let's see how it goes. I am wearing the pair of pants I hate the most in hopes that I get blood (not mine) all over them.
Take care, Adrian out.

My next post was on Wednesday, Nov. 23, 2016 after I had made it back home.  I wrote about what happened on Tuesday, Nov. 22nd, 2016. 

So here's the weirdness that was yesterday's hunting adventure. We got up late since I couldn't get the older men out of bed at a normal hunting hour. Also, it was just too cold for them. In all fairness it did go down to 29 degrees.

So nothing really happened during the morning hunt. We went to a new place in Snipe Island.
During the afternoon hunt, nothing happened.... until 5:10 PM. I heard a gunshot, and thought it was our hunting partner John W. shooting at something.

At 5:28 PM (2 minutes before we were supposed to get down from our treestands,) I hear all sorts of racket. I stand up, turn around in my treestand, and look over to see what's going through the woods. I could hear it, but not see it. I suspect it was yet another armadillo.

So we get down, and head to the truck. Just 50 yards from the truck, I hear a noise. I turn to my right, and it's a .... possum. Dad says I can't shoot it since it's my spirit animal. It runs down a hole, and we continue onto the truck.  Dad is correct about that. 

Dad and I were at the truck when two men walked up to the truck next to us. I immediately got a weird vibe from them. They never looked at us. They never said hi. One guy threw his loaded rifle in his truck, ripped off his orange, and jumped in. The other one did unload a shotgun, put it in the back, and jumped in the passenger side.

They then fired up the truck, and took off a little faster than people do when driving on a dirt road. I almost thought they peeled out. Either way, they got the hell out of there.

I asked Dad if he thought they were acting strange, and he said he thought they were creepy and acting very suspicious. Dad asked me if I remembered what kind of truck it was, what color it was, and what the license plate number was.

I got on the CB, and start asking if John W. was on the air. He was supposed to check in with us at 6:00 PM, and it was now past six.

I keep trying John on the CB, and am getting no reply. Dad and I decided to go down the trail (we had never been down,) and search for John. It was pitch back, and we had only our radios and flashlights looking for him.

We were worried that the gunshot was one the creepy guys killing John, and then getting the hell out of Dodge. Think about it. A single shot from John's direction. Two creepy guys acting creepy. And then John isn't on the radio.

At 6:30 PM, I see a light down the trail. Thankfully, it's John. I ask him why he wasn't on the radio, and he says that, "We didn't agree to do that today." Sidenote: John has the worst memory of anyone I've ever met.

I told him about what went on, and he completely dismissed my feelings and told me that I was jumping to conclusions. I got pretty pissed off. Even after I calmed down over an hour later, and explained everything again, he didn't get it. I got angry again.

I keep trying to explain that I was actually concerned for him, and he just doesn't get it. He can not see something from someone else's point of view. He never has.  So I'm kind of glad that hunting season is over. I think it went on long enough. Any more and we were just going to end up annoying each other the rest of trip.


Conclusion:  So, I've had a chance to think it over.  I know I'm a bit quick to anger and a bit quick to suspect bad things.  I wish John had seen things from my point of view, but I can't make him.  I wish we would have had more days to hunt, or at least be able to participate in the morning hunts more.  I really wish I would have killed that hog.  But that's why they call it hunting, and not getting. 

After looking at shot patters of shotguns on the internet I think I am going to have to use a rifle out hunting.  In fact, I am talking to the local gun store about trading in for a Ruger RAR in a .308.  It's a no-frills workhorse with a synthetic stock.  I can knock it around in the woods and get it dirty. 

One thing that we did that we hadn't done before was get a group picture.  Since one of us had to hold the camera we never took a picture with all three of us.  So this time we had the check station manager take a picture of the three of us.  I'll leave this post with this.

Hunting Adventures, 2014

Every year I take pictures and video of my experiences out hunting.  I have been getting better at my movie making computer program, so I think this is my best yet.  It is also my longest yet.  I split it into three parts of about seven minutes a piece.

Part 1. 

Part 2. 

Part 3.

Hunting Season 2012: Story 3, The Mystery at Spur 4

Here are the previous stories about Hunting Season 2012:

Story 1, The Gator:
http://angjellockheart.blogspot.com/2012/12/hunting-season-2012-story-1-gator.html

Story 2, Hoggin It Up:
http://angjellockheart.blogspot.com/2012/12/hunting-season-2012-story-2-hoggin-it-up.html

Imagine if you will, a mystery.  A mystery where we park the truck out at hunting at Spur 4 (that's the name of the road.)  Here is the scene.

First we notice a bad smell.  It is the smell of death.  That's when we notice the skin of a hog.  Apparently, someone has skinned a hog right here.  That's when we notice a bunch of of large palm fronds cut down, and laid out on the ground.  They are laid down in a pattern to cover the ground.

We then notice two T-shirts lying on the ground about 60 yards apart.  This is disconcerting, but not as disconcerting as the ripped up underwear lying on the ground in between them.

We thought that was as bad as it could get until we notice the used tampon lying in the middle of the road.  Things had already become weird, but this just solidified the weirdness.

Sidenote:  I know a lot of people are not really believing what I am saying right now.  I usually take pictures to back up my stories.  However, I thought that this crossed the line.  It went right by the boundaries of good taste.  So I didn't take any pictures.

So as we walk back to the truck I take this picture of the creek/ditch at the corner of Spur 4 and the main road.

What you don't see is the hogs head lying in the creek being ate up by flies and other insects.  Yeah, it was pretty bad.

So basically, here's the mystery.

1.  Hog's head thrown in the river.
2.  Hog's skin in the road.
3.  Cut palm fronds on the road in the pattern of a blanket.
4.  2 old shirts 60 yards apart.
5.  Shredded undies.
6.  1 used feminine product lying in the middle of the road.

So if you were Scooby Doo and Mystery Inc. what would you like happened?

I guess is a Satanic ritual was held there sometime in the last few days.  That, and someone completely shit their pants.

Hunting Season 2012: Story 2, Hoggin It Up

Here's the first story of the Hunting Season 2012 series:
http://angjellockheart.blogspot.com/2012/12/hunting-season-2012-story-1-gator.html

Let me continue with my original story.  We (Me, Dad, and the Weasel) had gone hunting later in the year due to Dad injuring his back.  So we only had two travel days (one up, one back) and three hunting days.

It was the third day of hunting when our friend The Weasel (pronounced like Grease-el) asked if he could hunt out of my tree.  This story goes back 17 years, but I will give the short version.  Basically, I found this hunting spot, and marked a certain tree that I put my treestand in.  I shot my one and only deer out of it.  A few years later during a year I couldn't go hunting, The Weasel sat in my tree, and shot a hog.  Ever since then he has claimed that there is some debate as to who found the tree.  His memory is complete shit, and every blasted year I have to tell him the long story on why that is my hunting spot, and not his.

So he asks me if he can hunt out of my tree.  Since it is the last day, and none of us has seen a thing I say, "Sure.  Go for it."  When we get out there, he gets out of the truck super early, and gets out to the tree to set up his tree stand.  Dad and I take our time, and leave the truck a few minutes after The Weasel. 

We start by walking down the road called Spur 4.  My usual routine is to walk about 80 yards down Spur 4, and then walk back into the woods about 200 yards.  There's a nice place where a few game trails come together.  That's where my tree is.  However, since The Weasel is in my tree, Dad and I decide to walk down Spur 4 to see if we can come across some good woods.

We were about 220 yards, and/or four minutes down Spur 4 when I hear some noise at about 7:10 AM.  I say to Dad, "Did you hear that?'

He said, "No."  And then a lot more noise came from the bushes.

I asked, "Did you hear that?"

He said, "Yes!"

I then put my shotgun up, and pointed down the trail.  It was then that a pack of hogs started running across the road.  I shot twice in quick secession.  I tried to shoot a third time, but my gun jammed.  As I was unjamming it, I heard a squeal.

I told Dad, "My gun jammed, you go on ahead."

At this point Dad put down his treestand, and walked on ahead.  I worked on clearing my gun, and reloading.  He walks up to where the hogs crossed, looked down and saw the hog I had shot.  It was still moving so he put a kill shot in its head. 

I caught up to him, and we both agreed that there were about 7 hogs in the group.  I shot twice, and thought I had hit two.  However, I did not hit the hog I was aiming at, I hit the hog behind it.  And it was a small hog.  To be honest, it was so small that a few years ago it would have been illegal.  But since hogs are an invasive species and breed like crazy, the rules were changed that there was no size limit and no number of game limit put on them.  So basically you can shoot all the hogs you want during hunting season.

I told Dad, "I think I hit two.  We should get some of the dog hunters down here to see if one of their dogs can track down that hog.  Dad walked back into the woods to see if he could spot a blood trail or a downed hog, but he couldn't find either.  I marked the spot on the trail where the hogs had crossed with a orange ribbon.

So we grabbed our stuff and the hog.  I counted how many steps I was when I shot, and it was 65 steps.  My steps are pretty close to a yard so you can call it 65 yards.  Once we made it back to the truck we flagged down some dog hunters down the main road. 

The dog hunters we ran into were pretty nice.  They had a couple of trucks and quite a number of dogs.  The one guy told me that he had "hog dogs" and he had "deer dogs."  He wanted to get his son over with the other truck to get the hog dogs.  His son was also really nice.  I jumped in one of the trucks and they both went down Spur 4.  When we pulled up the ribbon, I showed them the blood pile where the small hog had fallen, and Dad had put a bullet in it.

The deer dog hounds started whimpering and going nuts.  They could smell that much blood not 7 yards from them.  But the dog hunter got out a red nose pit bull, and a black pit bull mix.  He set them on the trail and had them search the woods.  They ran around, but couldn't find anything.  So it seemed that I only hit one of the hogs, and not the one I was aiming at. 

So they went back to following where the hogs might have run to, and Dad and I went back to the truck to put our stuff away, and get some stuff out.  We needed to get out all the animal cleaning stuff.  But before we did that, we took some pictures and video.

Here's a picture of the hog:

And here's a picture to get a better idea of it's size:

I know, it's tiny.  But the one I was aiming at was so much bigger.  Anyway, here's the story in my own words, and my own choice of editing:

We then started laughing about how The Weasel was sitting in my tree.  As my story stated earlier, every year he wants to try to sit in my tree.  And when I finally say, "Sure thing, take my tree," I'm the one who ends up shooting the hog.

It was then that Dad and I had this conversation:

Dad and I then got to work on cleaning the hog.  It's funny, after watching "The Walking Dead" cleaning a hog isn't so bad.  We put it's feet up on some branches, and cleaned/skinned it out.  Since we were doing this right off a main road not far from the check station, we had people driving by us.  It was funny how they would be going way too fast, see the hog and let off the gas, and then slam on the brakes.  One guy even backed up, and hollared at us.  He was happy we got something.  So then, we put the hog, which was a sal by the way, in the cooler, and threw some ice on it.

At this point The Weasel had not come out of the woods despite three loud gunshots, multiple trucks going up and down the road, and a few dogs making all sorts of racket.  He said he could stay in the woods until 10:30 AM, and be back to the truck at 11;00 AM, and by golly he was not kidding.

Since it was still only 9:30 or so, Dad and I took a stroll down Spur 4.  After all, we still did have time to hunt that evening.  So we did what we were originally going to do, scout the woods and find a place to hunt.  We see some great woods down the road.  It's funny.  All these years I have always gone to my tree, but never all the way Spur 4.  There were a great number of places to hunt down there.  So after an hour of walking around Dad and I made it back to the truck. 

Some of the dog guys stopped by again to chit chat.  I'll admit, I was having a tough time understanding their "country accent."  But Dad is from West Virginia, and understood every word the guys said.  It was then that The Weasel got back.  He excitedly told us that he saw two very small does in the woods. 

The dog hunter drove off, and that's when I took this video of The Weasel:

He has a habit of getting all excited, and telling us what he saw, and forgetting to ask us if we saw anything.

So we then went down near the ocean to have lunch.  Hickory Mound is right on the water, and the area near the ocean is beautiful in its own way. 

So that evening Dad and I are planning on going back to Spur 4, but the strangest thing happens.  The Weasel wants to hunt this completely different area.  Since it is the last hunt of the last day, we say okay.  After all, I'd already gotten my game.  It's only fair to give him a chance to hunt where he wants to.  Even if that is right after I gave him the opportunity to hunt right out of my tree that very morning. 

Inside the Secret World of Adrian's Hunting Adventures, Part 3

Back to the fun videos.  But first, why the duck you ask?  I just feel like a curious duck most of the time.  But seriously.

Clip 9.  While cleaning the hog I run into an old wishing well/ old timey water pump.  Then, hilarity ensues. 

Clip 10.  Out on the Hickory Mound inpoundment we run into a gator sunning himself on a sunny day.

Clip 11.  At the very end of our trip we were driving out of our hunting area.  It was then we found out where the hogs were hanging out at.  Right in the middle of the road.

I hope you enjoyed the insider's look at what really goes on during hunting season.  And remember, the Weasel is always right.

Inside the Secret World of Adrian's Hunting Adventures

I have plenty of hunting stories that I've aquired from years of being in the outdoors.  Sometimes the tales can get either really hairy or relaly tall.  Back in 2009 I took my video camera with me to show just how weird things can get out there.

Today I bought a machine/ program that lets me transfer my video to an MPEG format.  I am really glad that this type of program exists so that I can share my wonderful and weird hunting experiences.

So without further ado, here's the highlights of the Perry, Fl. 2009 hunting trip at Hickory Mound.

Clip 1.  The Waking of the Weasel (rhymes with Grease-el.)  Note how I am doing my best Steve Irwin impression.

Clip 2.  This is an osprey sitting in a tree.  The osprey is one of the best fish hunting birds out there.  I was really glad to get this shot.

Clip 3.  In this video you can see some hooded merganzers and grebies.  This video was recording in the Hickory Mound Impoundment Unit.  It is a beautiful estruary that supports a huge amount of wildlife.  I've never seen a place quite like it.

Clip 4.  A funny little butterfly landed, and hilariousity ensued.

More to come.  Stay tuned for parts 2, 3, and 4.