Kevin, Kris, Ben and I walked around the ranch (me on a bum ankle) for about 5 hours and saw about a dozen deer, lots of cows, a cool mushroom...but no pigs. As we were heading home though, we snuck up on some and Kevin and Ben each got one. At that point, watching them get killed and the fresh carcasses, I decided that I liked the idea of hunting way more than hunting itself. I think I'd be happy to go along any time, but it's pretty gruesome. Don't scroll down if you are squeamish. But hey - if you eat meat, you may as well have a look. Following are some photos I took:
Not a double rainbow, but very pretty.
There was a spicy stream crossing. It rained so much that all of the creeks were running higher than I've ever seen them. Plus the rocks were slick and wet and I was a bit concerned about my ankle.
The requisite mushroom photo. This was a large artists's conk.
The actual hunting was a bit chaotic. Kris and I hung back while Kevin and Ben stalked up the road so that they could get a good shot of the pigs. There at least a dozen, everything from tiny piglets to big sows. Pigs are stupid, and they can't see very well, so they were easy to get close to. Kevin and Ben crept up and Ben took a shot, but his rifle isn't shooting true so he missed it and the Kevin took the pig down. The pigs scattered, squealing and running. Ben took off up the hill and shot a sow in the ass. This was funny because the whole time, from the drive up to last night to the walk today he was talking about how he wanted a small pig. The pig he shot stood there looking at him, and he shot it in the shoulder, walked over to it and cut it's throat. For all of that planning to take a little pig, he took the biggest one down. Pretty classic. Here are photos of the post-shoot fun:
Kevin and Ben dragging the sow down the hill.
Wet and bedraggled. The bottom of my rain pants was full of water from the last stream crossing. My feet were already wet so I just charged it.
More photos. Ben was still dubious about his huge pig with the ass shot out. He said "now the fun ends and the dirty stuff begins." Unless you're me and you say "nope, I don't want anything to do with this anymore."
Kris had a smudgepot in the shop that he lit for heat. We were all wet and cold by this time.
Setting up to hang the pig for skinning.
Carcass. I was a lot better with the pigs after they stopped looking like pigs. Maybe I'd had time to get used to the idea.
This was a super fun weekend. It's always nice to hike around the ranch when it is pretty and green, even if it is muddy and raining 50% of the time. I would have been happy if we hadn't shot anything at all (especially since I wasn't carrying a gun). I don't feel bad about shooting pigs. Their population is pretty high right now and they do a lot of damage (and they are not native). They can have at least three litters a year, with up to a dozen piglets. The pig population will be fine. On the other hand, it's definitely a visceral (not necessarily positive) experience to watch something die in person. It's not altogether pleasant, and truly it shouldn't be. We were discussing this on the way back. I wondered if it was so unpleasant because we are so distant from the process of killing even though many of us eat animal products. However one of the things that comes very naturally to (many) of us is empathy. I wonder if we are born naturally empathic and then culturally desensitized to death if we are exposed to it (as in cultures where hunting and slaughtering animals is the norm). Of course other cultures have gone the other way and maintained their natural-born empathy (such as vegetarian cultures in India). Like most things there is probably a range of "normal" behavior, both culturally and genetically driven.
I know that for me, I won't be picking up the gun any time soon, but I will go over to Kevin and Ben's house for dinner.
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