Son-in-law Chris and I have been talking for several years about an early spring trip to Texas to help them deal with what has become a plague in much of the Lone Star State – wild hogs. When Diane and I spent time in Paris, Texas, last fall reconnecting with eldest son James, it became obvious that the time had arrived. I agreed to find us a wild hog hunt.

Homey Wes Clogston, retired commander from Texas Parks & Wildlife, was able to get me background info on Texas hogs, private vs public land rules, and some starting places for my search. I made a couple dozen phone calls, studied maps (given that Chris and I would be driving down from Denver, we wanted to stay in the top half of the state), and sent a number of emails.

Turns out there are hundreds of opportunities to hunt hogs – after all, there are a million and a half trouble-making feral hogs in Texas. Since they are non-game animals, there are almost no rules about when or how to hunt them – or how many you can take. One does need a license, and our five-day nonresident special hunt permit ran us less than fifty bucks.

I found innumerable hunt opportunities. Hunt hogs on one ranch for a couple days and get another hunt for free within a couple years. There were lodging, food and hunt packages and any number of two or three-day hog hunts where we would be on our own for food and lodging in some nearby town. Almost no matter how we cut it, the costs would add up about the same.  Major differences were in the methods of hunting. Most everyone started with first and last light hunting from stands overseeing favored, or baited, food plots. Then, given that these are highly nocturnal animals, some had nighttime hunts under lights. Others had mid-day dune buggy drives or dog hunts or spot and stalk hunts. A helicopter hunt was optional. The standard among the hunts seemed to be three “meat” hogs (to 150 pounds) or a mix of a big boar and meat pigs.

I narrowed it down, and we discussed three possible hunts. I made another couple calls, trying to get a sense of the likelihood of actually getting three hogs apiece during our hunt. The standard answer was “You just have to choose which pigs you want.” Through a Colorado booking agent, I arranged a hunt on a ranch near Rochester, north of Abilene.

I got a four-page contract from the folks handling the booking (one disclaimer after another). This was a new one for me, and I figured I’d best take another look at the web page for the guy owning the outfit with which we would hunt. There was plenty of info about deer, turkey, quail and big-time waterfowl hunts, and the hog hunt page had pictures of nighttime hunts, day hunts, and dog hunts. When I called him for more details, the owner reminded me that we could get three hogs apiece and should pick the ones we wanted. Fine. We started arranging our meeting places and seriously planning a hog hunt.

Two Sundays ago, I pointed my rig toward Denver. A couple days later, Tuesday, Chris and I were headed south to Rochester. James would drive west from Paris and we would convene at the hunting lodge that evening. Even with torrential rain and wind most of the way, Chris and I arrived early evening – just in time for tornado warnings and a hailstorm. We met guide Jared, learned the morning plan, and turned in. A bit before James arrived at 10, we listened to a tornado roaring past a quarter-mile away – flashing me back to my tornado chasing days in the ‘70s at the University of Kansas.

By first light the next morning, the weather had settled, the country was wet and muddy, and we were in our blinds waiting for hogs at spots with plenty of fresh sign of overnight digging and rooting. That evening, we did it again. Chris saw two small pigs and had a shot from his blind, but the pig scurried onto neighboring ground and we found no sign of it.

The second morning at dark-thirty we were again in our blinds – and no pigs. By mid-morning, it was obvious that our only hunting would be from first and last light blinds. Despite the web page suggestions, there was apparently no availability of other ways of finding hogs. Right after lunch, we headed to another property and a new set of ‘til-dark blinds.

That evening, our last, James was finally in a spot with moving pigs. By sunset he had a boar and a sow – both meat hogs in the 140 pound range – and two empty ’06 cases. We would have a little meat, after all.

During our 70+ man-hours of blind occupation, we saw deer, turkeys, coyotes, bobcats, quail, roadrunners and sundry other critters. Chris and James saw a combined handful of hogs, but I never saw a pig. Jared, with good humor and optimism, did his very best with our one-trick pony hunt. Somewhere in there, we came to the conclusion that the owner of the operation didn’t really take hog hunts very seriously; it seemed to us that his business was waterfowl, deer and turkeys. We found out later that three hunters in daylight blinds could expect to take a total of a pig or two a day – not really a “choose which hogs you want” hunt.

This was on me; even after booking hunting and fishing trips across North America, Europe and South Africa over decades, I just somehow missed asking the right questions – or the right follow up questions – in the right way.

We had three goals: spend some quality armed time together; have a great adventure; and get a pile of wild hog meat. Two out of three ain’t bad, I guess. Overall, I called it a successful trip.

James is now researching outfits with multi-trick hog-hunting ponies. I guess we like the meat we did get so much, we’re going back.

[Photos: James & boar (above) and James & sow (right) by Jared Ritter]