Over the past few years I had become interested in wild hog hunting.  Searching the internet displayed hog hunting sites all across the US from Florida to California.  However, it appeared that the biggest and baddest hogs were the Russian Boars located right in my back yard.  In the nasty thorny wilds of West Texas.  Barely a three hour drive from my house. 

You may wonder how Russian boars got all the way to West Texas.  Well, as it happens, they had been imported from Europe at the turn of the previous century and confined to the outskirts of some Texas prisons as sanitation workers.  This worked out well until the prisons closed about 50 years ago and the boars were sold off to local ranchers as livestock.  It didn't take long for those nasty hogs to escape their new homes and multiply in the wild.  As of today, there are thousands of boars per county and they have become a serious problem for ranchers and farmers alike.  The State of Texas classifies them as nuisance animals and allow hunters to take them in any method available.  

Many ranchers trap them in big baited pens and shoot as many as they can on sight.  But these are smart creatures and many have learned to avoid the baited traps and stay out of rifle range of hunters.  The natural progression was to track them with dogs.  Something that has become quite a sport all over the southern states.  A type of hunting that is full of action and much more exciting than sitting in a tree stand wondering if that buck will show.  One thing that is certain, the dogs will find the boars and the hunt will be on. 

On my first boar hunt, I was joined by my father Garland.  My father-in-law Jerry Czajka joined us as a photographer to document the hunt.  After arriving at the lodge and visiting with our guides, Garland decided to use a spear on his first boar - he liked the thought of keeping a little distance from the foray.  I had done my research and had purchased a long bullet shaped knife designed perfectly to stick pigs and was jumping at the chance to try it out.  After loading up the dogs, we drove about 20 minutes to some serious brush and turned the tracking dogs loose.  Three cowboys on horseback followed the tracking dogs and kept us close via radio.  It wasn't but a few minutes before the dogs where on a trail and all hell broke loose.  The dogs chased the boar for several hundred yards before catching up to the boar and running into the brush.  The dogs set up a bay on the hog and held it until we arrived.  Once we arrived the guide leashed the catch dog on a steel leash and we all jogged about 100 feet to the bay.  Once we were in place, the catch dog was released and he hit that boar like a locomotive.  The catch dog grabbed the boar's ear like a vise and the fight was on. 

Following the directions of the guide, I waded into a small tornado of spinning dogs and boar to grab the boar's rear end.  Once I got a hold of the boar's back end, I reached forward and slide the blade between his ribs; cutting his lungs and heart.  Within seconds the boar laid dead.  Although it took us another 5 minutes to get the catch dog off the ear.  We ended up using a small stick to pry his mouth open while pulling hard on the steel cable they use for a leash.  There is no way that the catch dog was going to give up this boar.  And there was no way that the boar was going to tusk me with the catch dog hanging onto him.  As sports go, this is a lot safer than it sounds. 

Before we finished field dressing this boar, the dogs were tracking another boar.  After another short trail, we once again put the catch dog to work and he grabbed another boars.  This time Garland approached the boar with his 10 foot spear and dispatched the hog with one clean stick. 

By the end of the first day, we had caught 4 nice boars, two trophy boars and two smaller meat hogs.  On the second day, we headed back out after a great breakfast and picked up two more hogs.  Then, by chance, the dogs hit on the biggest boar of the hunt. 

The tracking dogs had been running for some time now and the cowboys on horseback were trying to keep up.  Whatever the dogs were tracking, they couldn't stop it long enough to set up a bay.  The cowboys kept radioing back directions and we were driving all over the place.  Finally we got frantic calls over the radio to catch up as fast as possible.  This was a big boar and the dogs were having trouble baying it.  The customized 4x4 that we were riding in bounced all over and spent more than a few minutes plowing through mud as we made our way to the dogs and boar. 

Upon arrival, all the cowboys were shouting at us to hurry; the dogs were getting tired. This boar was willing to do battle.  The guide pulled the pin and the dog pen in the back of the truck exploded open.  The catch dog covered the 50 feet to the boar in a blink and flat out crashed into the boar.  The boar was so big that he lifted the catch dog into the air and slammed him down over and over again.  Everyone was yelling at me to get in the fight.  The brush was especially thick and the thorns ripped my shirt and pants as I once again waded into the spinning, barking, grunting pack.  Once I got a hold of the boar it was only seconds before he was down.  After prying the catch dog off the boar's ear, we used lassos and horses to pull the boar out of the brush.  All the dogs collapsed in the shade for a well deserved rest. 

This ended our first Russian Boar hunting experience.  We brought home two large coolers full of very nice pork, two great shoulder mounts and some great stories.

The following year my daughter Erin joined me for my second hunt.  Erin, who has never hunted anything before, got into the most exciting hunt so far; in the middle of the night with a mean boar bayed in the water.  Erin's Hunt is on Page Two.

Privacy Policy

Copyright Sagen Inc. 2005