Labor Day Weekend!!!

Labor Day Weekend, wow...where do I start? I had the opportunity to visit a buddy of mine's ranch just west of Austin, TX to go Dove hunting for the first time. He had been inviting me for over 3 years now and it has just never worked out with our schedules. What an excuse, huh? Below I'll have a few stories of the trip by title. That's just how I roll to make writing easier for myself not necessarily the reader. Funny huh, cause it's just all about me I guess.

The Big Bass:
As my buddy, Clayton, took me for a ranch tour of his 2500 acre ranch, I knew we would be riding by his ponds (tanks, as they call them in Texas). I just had to grab my fishing pole and tackle just in case we had time to wet a line. As we drove through his property on his Polaris Ranger, the most amazing off road machine I've ever riden in, we saw about four Havilina Hogs running away. Clayton swiftly drove to the top of the hill and handed me his rifle as he grabbed his 45 caliber pistol short thereafter and said "get em!" I began to shot round after round from probably about 100 to 200 yards away. I was suprised at how close I was getting. All of the sudden I gained a much higher respect for that guys in the old western movies that could get on the ground and take an outlaw OUT in one shot from even further than I was shooting. I may not have hit a hog that time around, but I sure did have em on the run!As we continued on the ranch tour, we saw some beautiful country side of the Texas Hill Country. Then we finally came to the most beautiful spring fed pond (tank). This water was more clear than my drinking water at home in Austin. I told Clayton, "I know we don't have much time, but I just can't not throw a line in a few times while I'm here." I probably only casted my line 6 to 7 times before what felt like a brick had been tied to my hook pull my pole to the ground. For a moment I thought I'd just caught some moss, but then the moss began to tug tug tug. I had the lightest rod and reel and this fish felt as if it may be a 10 to 12 pound fish. I assumed it was a bass, and low and behold, the most beautiful green spring fed tank Large Mouth Bass jumped straight up in the air and pounded back down on the water! I remembered Clayton and I just looking at each other with no words to say. At least none that I would repeat on this blog. It shocked me more than I expected. As I pulled this Largemouth bass in, all I kept thinking was that this is the largest bass I've ever caught, and said it over and over as if I'd never caught a fish before. I have amazing photos and my brother said "that bass looks so big it looks fake." I agree, as he probably weighed close to 7 or 8 lbs. We didn't have a measuring tape or scale. Of course, that's what a fisherman always says, right?

The Hog
There are hogs on every ranch, also known as Havilinas, or better known as pains in rancher's butts. They eat all of the food from their deer feeders and tear up their land as well. A rancher always says, "the only hog is a dead hog." Clayton had seen this hog the night before I arrived and wanted to shoot it then. But, he was gracious enough to save him for his guest, me. We went dove hunting and fishing most of the day and I was just pooped! Clayton loaded the day with plenty of fun and LOTS of BBQ. Cooper's BBQ I must say. By 10 o'clock I had crashed out on the couch with clothes still on as well as my cap. As I had soared into a deep sleep by 11 o'clock, I felt a nudge several time and heard a voice saying "WAKE UP, WAKE UP!" As I peeled my eyes open, I saw a blury Clayton handing me a rifle saying, "WAKE UP, your hog's here." I slowly peeked over the back of the couch and saw out the window ony to see a nasty hog in the spotlight of the deer feeder just going to town on Clayton's deer corn. I walked out on the porch, barefoot and my cap on backwards, half asleep. Clayton follow suite, but I think he was wide awake. There were several other hogs eating with the big Momma, which was my target. Clayton said, "I'll count to three, and we'll both shoot at the same time." Here I am still wiping my eyes to wake up, and Clayton begins to count. I'm still trying to figure out the gun I'm holding, I'm barefoot on a ranch porch with crickets crawing all over my bare toes, and I don't know if this scope is going to kick back and smack me in the head or not when I fire. Wow, that's a lot to think about with half a mind working. But, Clayton wasn't taking the chance of this hog taking off, or of me missing my chance to take out my first Havilina (hog). I then hear "3!" BAM, we both fired and all of the hogs then took off. Now's the fun part, tracking them down and making sure that you actuall hit your mark. We jumped in the Polaris Ranger, turned the lights on and went tracking. Clayton spotted the blood, he drove the Ranger and I followed the blood trail, YUCK! I love hunting and fishing, but this was a whole nother world. It's about as redneck as you get. We didn't go 25 feet and I spotted that nasty sow. Whew, hogs are not the prettiest things on the planet. Once I saw this 100 pound...thing, I didn't feel so bad for shooting it. We then took a few pictures and loaded her up. Wow, this was most interesting for this city boy. This is a time that the book Wild At Heart then made a lot more sense to me and why I loved it so much. This kind of stuff is just implanted into men in a way I just can't explain.

Needless to say, this was one of the greatest hunting and fishing trips that I've ever been on. However, I feel like any hunting and fishing trip that I've had as been the best and they only just keep getting better.

DW (Sept 2007)