High Fence - 11/27/21
April 2008.
It's a Thursday, I got caught speeding in a construction zone 70+mph in
a 45. At 4am. Cop wrote me a failure to heed warning signs.
$100, no points. Didn't lose my CDL or job.
It was an omen. I don't believe in them.
That afternoon my Dad, two of his friends and myself joined a truckload
of other friends to head for Athens Ga for a high fenced hog hunt.
It seemed odd from the start.
We were to meet the hired part time guide at the gates, and he would let us in.
Noon on Friday. Not before. He wouldn't be there, and the owner wouldn't
come let us in.
Almost there we stopped for gas. I was going to grab some beer, but
had second thoughts. There were a few guys in the other truck I had
never met. Some guys get stupid with a few, i didn't want to help them.
Put it back to avoid any issues.
Omen?
We get there early, and sit beside the big iron gates, locked with a chained
padlock. Just the shade of a few small trees, tired and bored. John, ask me
to get something from his cooler in Dad's truck, I agreed and climbed in.
It was 1/2 gallon of Jim Beam. Either one! (Its a two day trip)
I made some comment about the half, he laughed.
"I Buy them by the six pack" (case)
Knew he drank a bit, but no idea...
Omen?
The guy finally shows around 1. Unlocks the gates, locks them behind us.
It's about a mile on the dirt road to the Big House.
Built like an Antebellum Mansion, it's big. Really big.
All white, big pillars on the front porch, walk into a huge open
hardwood floors, cathedral ceilings great room.
Double oak winding staircase to the second floor.
I'm impressed.
It's all brand new, the operation isn't fully in place. But it's obvious
they have big plans. Later, when Bob cut his sick and foot on a nail sticking
put in the stairs, and I about got seasick rocking in the poorly installed
shower. I was less impressed.
We meet Mitch, the owner.
The hired guy "Fred" had warned us Mitch wasn't a people person, and we would deal with Fred, mostly.
Mitch, immediately displayed his arse.
Went right into the rules.
What would get us banned from hunting,
Fined. By Mitch?
Or, hurled out.
We were allowed to kill any boar, and a shoat.
Any mistake on what you shoot? $500. Fine? (He think he's LEO?)
We are confined to the elevated stand assigned.
Caught 20 feet from it? Banned
My Dad brings up their rule of allowing any hog with white on it
to be shot as a bonus pig. (They only want black Euro- Asian hogs)
Mitch immediately bscks away from what he had promised earlier.
Dad got a bit pissed, and a heated exchange took place.
Mitch, finally conceded,
with a smart assed "You won't see any anyway. Pretty sure there all gone!"
(Then why the big damned fight?)
Meanwhile, John and Bob are doing a good number on Jim and Coke.
We fill out a release. OK.
And fill out a paper with drivers lic. # and Brand, model, chambering,
scope brand/description? For any gun we have. WTF?
We walk out to get our rifles (cased) and get in an old Suburban.
We pass an early 1st gen Dodge/Cummins loaded with corn.
We are promised that they scatter corn near the stands daily.
Fred drops us off at our stands. Mine is pretty sweet.
Right on the corner of two roads. Can see about 100 yards to the right.
About 300 straight ahead.
I sit there several hours,nothing. Just a few birds.
But, it's pretty comfortable.
Just as it starts to get a bit dark, movement way out there at 12 O'clock.
Pretty certain it's a boar, headed right to me.
Ready to shoot,
I get to thinking this is too easy. If I kill him, I'm stuck here until
Sunday a afternoon with nothing much to do.
So, keeping him in my scope, I watch him come.
Eventually he gets within 50 yards, and i still intend to let him go.
When he slams on the brakes, for some reason I decide to put
the crosshairs on his forehead and shoot.
Just as he spins and runs into the woods.
I see the 165 gr partition hit right in front of his right foot.
Fred laughs later. Tells us when they stop and pop their head up,
You better already be shooting. Because they have winded you,
are are soon leaving.
Back to the Big House. Pork steaks for supper.
The only meal actually cooked for us.
Next morning, in a stand beside a pine tree. Overlooking a road running in front of me,
intersecting to the right with one coming down the hill in front, at an angle.
After about 2 hours, I see a boar coming down the road on the hill.
He gets the pine tree between us before I can try a shot.
He works to the intersection,then turns toward me.
I could shoot, but he is moving and coming closer. The angle will improve.
Get ready, he is putting that pine between us. That good. When he clears
it, I'm going to put one right behind his shoulder.
Just as I can see him through the branches, he slams on the brakes,
head up. Spins and into the woods.
Holy schidt! These thing are fast!
And Fred was right about them winding you.
Back to the White House.
Passed the truck load of corn. None spread.
Dinner was a Family Frozen dinner, heated up. Iced tea was good!
Sitting around, we got bored. John and Bob took Jim and Cokes and
went for a walk. There was a road from the Big House to the block
dog kennel that was being used to house the owners until they built
themselves a house.
Past that, was a big 3 sided machine shed. Which we found courous.
Because every piece of machinery they had was parked outside.
Across the road, the dogs were tied to plastic drum "boxes" in the
woods. Probably 20, maybe more. Supposedly, bird dogs.
We really couldn't see them.
Anyway those guys went for a stroll.
They were only about 50 yards out, when a kid stepped out of the
kennel/house, saw them an ran back in. The hadn't went much
farther when Fred came flying up the road and slid to a stop.
He jumped out and started hollering at them. Ask just what the
hell they were doing. "Gonna walk over and see the dogs. Have had
bird dogs all my life. Would like to see them."
Fred had a coniption.
"You stay the F' away from those dogs.
You have dogs at home, hard to tell what diseases you will give them.
And yuou don't need out here. These wild hogs would tear you up if
one comes around. Stay in the house!"
Well, that was weird.
And a bunch of bull.
Back to the stand that evening.
It had poured for several hours. Cooled off, and there were
hogs everywhere going out. Dropped at a stand, I was going up the
ladder when the first hogs appeared. Saw bunches, no boars.
Heard several shots back toward John.
Finally, just about dark, a boar appeared. Could just see the crosshairs
on him, went for the top of the spine. He collapsed. Hogs running everywhere, reloaded quick. He was squealing. Just as I got back on him,
a hog ran through. Thought it was him, started to swing with...realized he
was rolling over. Went back to him as he hit his feet and took off. Got a
Hail Mary as he hit the brush.
Fred soon showed up to take us back.
When he heard my story, he drove around the field, then called the hog
lost. Up until now. I had missed, not shot, and wounded. One other
guy missed. No one else saw a hog.
We stopped to pick up John.
He had...three boars! Oh, schidt!
Fred wasn't happy. "Mitch is going to be really mad."
Back at the Big House we stop.
Fred says. "Listen up. I'm gonna get the skid loader and lights.
You guys stay right here. Do not come over there untill you see
the lights light up by the skid steer.
So, after about 10 minutes, we walked over. Right by the dogs we
now couldn't see. Right by the machine shed. He skinned the hogs.
We helped and watched. At one point, one of those ferocious sows
with pigs walked by right at the edge of the light. No one was tore up.
John was fined $1000. Since he was $200 light, Mitch was going to
confiscate his Encore with a Leopold scope. Dad gave him a loan.
Next morning, I was dropped at a tripod stand that wasn't even up.
Fred and I set it up, I noticed bolts missing in the structure.
"It'll be ok." And he left. On further inspection, every joint needed
two bolts. Pretty standard. Several had none! Used my trusty
Leathermam to rob one from the less critical points and put it in
where there were none. It seemed almost safe, so up I went.
Never saw a pig. But could hear them in the stream less than a hundred yards
away. Still don't know why I didn't go after them. It was the last hunt. They
couldn't throw me out, I was leaving! Nothing else exiting happened.
On the way home, John mentioned that they had drank 1 half gallon, and half the second. Which might explain his stupidity.
What a schidt show.
The whole place seemed odd.
Later, a local dog fighting ring was exposed here, I wondered if they might
have run a fighting dog business there. They had to have a logical reason
for the chained gates, keeping us away from the dogs in the daylight, the machine shed.....There was just so much odd behavior.
Has anyone else hunted a place that acted like that?
It's a Thursday, I got caught speeding in a construction zone 70+mph in
a 45. At 4am. Cop wrote me a failure to heed warning signs.
$100, no points. Didn't lose my CDL or job.
It was an omen. I don't believe in them.
That afternoon my Dad, two of his friends and myself joined a truckload
of other friends to head for Athens Ga for a high fenced hog hunt.
It seemed odd from the start.
We were to meet the hired part time guide at the gates, and he would let us in.
Noon on Friday. Not before. He wouldn't be there, and the owner wouldn't
come let us in.
Almost there we stopped for gas. I was going to grab some beer, but
had second thoughts. There were a few guys in the other truck I had
never met. Some guys get stupid with a few, i didn't want to help them.
Put it back to avoid any issues.
Omen?
We get there early, and sit beside the big iron gates, locked with a chained
padlock. Just the shade of a few small trees, tired and bored. John, ask me
to get something from his cooler in Dad's truck, I agreed and climbed in.
It was 1/2 gallon of Jim Beam. Either one! (Its a two day trip)
I made some comment about the half, he laughed.
"I Buy them by the six pack" (case)
Knew he drank a bit, but no idea...
Omen?
The guy finally shows around 1. Unlocks the gates, locks them behind us.
It's about a mile on the dirt road to the Big House.
Built like an Antebellum Mansion, it's big. Really big.
All white, big pillars on the front porch, walk into a huge open
hardwood floors, cathedral ceilings great room.
Double oak winding staircase to the second floor.
I'm impressed.
It's all brand new, the operation isn't fully in place. But it's obvious
they have big plans. Later, when Bob cut his sick and foot on a nail sticking
put in the stairs, and I about got seasick rocking in the poorly installed
shower. I was less impressed.
We meet Mitch, the owner.
The hired guy "Fred" had warned us Mitch wasn't a people person, and we would deal with Fred, mostly.
Mitch, immediately displayed his arse.
Went right into the rules.
What would get us banned from hunting,
Fined. By Mitch?
Or, hurled out.
We were allowed to kill any boar, and a shoat.
Any mistake on what you shoot? $500. Fine? (He think he's LEO?)
We are confined to the elevated stand assigned.
Caught 20 feet from it? Banned
My Dad brings up their rule of allowing any hog with white on it
to be shot as a bonus pig. (They only want black Euro- Asian hogs)
Mitch immediately bscks away from what he had promised earlier.
Dad got a bit pissed, and a heated exchange took place.
Mitch, finally conceded,
with a smart assed "You won't see any anyway. Pretty sure there all gone!"
(Then why the big damned fight?)
Meanwhile, John and Bob are doing a good number on Jim and Coke.
We fill out a release. OK.
And fill out a paper with drivers lic. # and Brand, model, chambering,
scope brand/description? For any gun we have. WTF?
We walk out to get our rifles (cased) and get in an old Suburban.
We pass an early 1st gen Dodge/Cummins loaded with corn.
We are promised that they scatter corn near the stands daily.
Fred drops us off at our stands. Mine is pretty sweet.
Right on the corner of two roads. Can see about 100 yards to the right.
About 300 straight ahead.
I sit there several hours,nothing. Just a few birds.
But, it's pretty comfortable.
Just as it starts to get a bit dark, movement way out there at 12 O'clock.
Pretty certain it's a boar, headed right to me.
Ready to shoot,
I get to thinking this is too easy. If I kill him, I'm stuck here until
Sunday a afternoon with nothing much to do.
So, keeping him in my scope, I watch him come.
Eventually he gets within 50 yards, and i still intend to let him go.
When he slams on the brakes, for some reason I decide to put
the crosshairs on his forehead and shoot.
Just as he spins and runs into the woods.
I see the 165 gr partition hit right in front of his right foot.
Fred laughs later. Tells us when they stop and pop their head up,
You better already be shooting. Because they have winded you,
are are soon leaving.
Back to the Big House. Pork steaks for supper.
The only meal actually cooked for us.
Next morning, in a stand beside a pine tree. Overlooking a road running in front of me,
intersecting to the right with one coming down the hill in front, at an angle.
After about 2 hours, I see a boar coming down the road on the hill.
He gets the pine tree between us before I can try a shot.
He works to the intersection,then turns toward me.
I could shoot, but he is moving and coming closer. The angle will improve.
Get ready, he is putting that pine between us. That good. When he clears
it, I'm going to put one right behind his shoulder.
Just as I can see him through the branches, he slams on the brakes,
head up. Spins and into the woods.
Holy schidt! These thing are fast!
And Fred was right about them winding you.
Back to the White House.
Passed the truck load of corn. None spread.
Dinner was a Family Frozen dinner, heated up. Iced tea was good!
Sitting around, we got bored. John and Bob took Jim and Cokes and
went for a walk. There was a road from the Big House to the block
dog kennel that was being used to house the owners until they built
themselves a house.
Past that, was a big 3 sided machine shed. Which we found courous.
Because every piece of machinery they had was parked outside.
Across the road, the dogs were tied to plastic drum "boxes" in the
woods. Probably 20, maybe more. Supposedly, bird dogs.
We really couldn't see them.
Anyway those guys went for a stroll.
They were only about 50 yards out, when a kid stepped out of the
kennel/house, saw them an ran back in. The hadn't went much
farther when Fred came flying up the road and slid to a stop.
He jumped out and started hollering at them. Ask just what the
hell they were doing. "Gonna walk over and see the dogs. Have had
bird dogs all my life. Would like to see them."
Fred had a coniption.
"You stay the F' away from those dogs.
You have dogs at home, hard to tell what diseases you will give them.
And yuou don't need out here. These wild hogs would tear you up if
one comes around. Stay in the house!"
Well, that was weird.
And a bunch of bull.
Back to the stand that evening.
It had poured for several hours. Cooled off, and there were
hogs everywhere going out. Dropped at a stand, I was going up the
ladder when the first hogs appeared. Saw bunches, no boars.
Heard several shots back toward John.
Finally, just about dark, a boar appeared. Could just see the crosshairs
on him, went for the top of the spine. He collapsed. Hogs running everywhere, reloaded quick. He was squealing. Just as I got back on him,
a hog ran through. Thought it was him, started to swing with...realized he
was rolling over. Went back to him as he hit his feet and took off. Got a
Hail Mary as he hit the brush.
Fred soon showed up to take us back.
When he heard my story, he drove around the field, then called the hog
lost. Up until now. I had missed, not shot, and wounded. One other
guy missed. No one else saw a hog.
We stopped to pick up John.
He had...three boars! Oh, schidt!
Fred wasn't happy. "Mitch is going to be really mad."
Back at the Big House we stop.
Fred says. "Listen up. I'm gonna get the skid loader and lights.
You guys stay right here. Do not come over there untill you see
the lights light up by the skid steer.
So, after about 10 minutes, we walked over. Right by the dogs we
now couldn't see. Right by the machine shed. He skinned the hogs.
We helped and watched. At one point, one of those ferocious sows
with pigs walked by right at the edge of the light. No one was tore up.
John was fined $1000. Since he was $200 light, Mitch was going to
confiscate his Encore with a Leopold scope. Dad gave him a loan.
Next morning, I was dropped at a tripod stand that wasn't even up.
Fred and I set it up, I noticed bolts missing in the structure.
"It'll be ok." And he left. On further inspection, every joint needed
two bolts. Pretty standard. Several had none! Used my trusty
Leathermam to rob one from the less critical points and put it in
where there were none. It seemed almost safe, so up I went.
Never saw a pig. But could hear them in the stream less than a hundred yards
away. Still don't know why I didn't go after them. It was the last hunt. They
couldn't throw me out, I was leaving! Nothing else exiting happened.
On the way home, John mentioned that they had drank 1 half gallon, and half the second. Which might explain his stupidity.
What a schidt show.
The whole place seemed odd.
Later, a local dog fighting ring was exposed here, I wondered if they might
have run a fighting dog business there. They had to have a logical reason
for the chained gates, keeping us away from the dogs in the daylight, the machine shed.....There was just so much odd behavior.
Has anyone else hunted a place that acted like that?