Big Game / Big Memories

The first time I went big game hunting stands out in my mind as one of my favorite memories. I had returned to Paso Robles with my father-in-law for our second hunt together. After another afternoon of wine tasting, we found ourselves the next morning at the untouched landscape of several hundred acres extending across rolling hills east of Paso Robles. This was to be a boar hunt that my father-in-law had been looking forward to taking me on for some time.

We spent the first part of the morning sighting in our rifles at 200 yards. This would be the average distance that the guides would take guests within for the property's hunts. After packing up the side-by-side and loading up our equipment, we set off across the brush-covered desert within the beautiful rolling hills of central California.

While driving around searching for our boar, we spotted two rams making their way across a distant hillside. We watched them, enjoying the moment before moving on. It took some time, but we came across two boars hanging out by a stream. I got out and unpacked my rifle from its case. This was going to be my first big game kill, so I was a little nervous about shot placement. The guide stood by and told me to aim for the area where the armpit meets the chest. I fired, but was unfortunately a little low, hitting it in the leg. The guide quickly said, "Take another shot!" I fired again, this time hitting it square in the heart. It was a little shocking to see how much blood was spurting out from it as it tried to run. It did not take long before it fell and expired. I was full of adrenaline as I walked back to the side-by-side.

Then it was my father-in-law's turn. He wanted to use his 40-caliber revolver that his son had gotten for him for his birthday recently, so the guides had to get him a bit closer. He took aim and fired, dropping the pig immediately.

A moment later, we saw those two ram from earlier on a hillside a little closer to us. The guides asked us if we wanted to add them to the day's hunt. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity, I was eager to pursue them. We drove a little closer and stopped about two hillsides away. The guides measured the distance of about 200 yards uphill from our position. They wanted us to synchronize our shots so that one would not flee after the first shot was taken. I felt confident in my timing, so I offered to fire after my father-in-law took his shot. We both set up on shooting sticks and took aim. I sighted in on the black one and placed my scope right on his shoulder. He took the white one. I said I was ready and continued to train my sights on the ram as he walked across the hillside.

I heard a click and then frustrated grunts as my father-in-law realized his safety was on. I double-checked mine as well and took aim again. After a moment of collecting himself, he fired. I pulled my trigger immediately after. My ram dropped as if the impact paralyzed it instantaneously. My father-in-law's was hit, but remained standing. He took a second shot and it fell, rolling down to the base of the hill.

We drove over and I hiked up the hillside to retrieve my ram. It was a beautiful creature. I was thrilled with a huge sense of accomplishment. I had only hunted fowl up to this point, partly out of intimidation of large game, having had no one around me growing up to show me the ropes, but I was now hooked.

Being that these were my first two large game animals, I asked the guides to give me a lesson in field dressing. This was where I learned how to hold the blade of the knife upward and away from the animal's body while cutting just the skin to avoid nicking the organs. It amazed me how easy the field dressing process was given that all the organs were connected and would pull out of the cavity together once the diaphragm and trachea were cut. I've learned a few tricks since in regards to cleanly working around the pelvic area, but this was a crucial point in my hunting education. Following these lessons, I was even able to process all the meat of my first deer a few years later. A crucial skill if hunting away from civilization.

Once all four animals were gutted, we loaded them into the side by side and made our way back to the outfitter's office. There we got cleaned up and had them hung and skinned for the cooler. I had the ram's head shoulder-mounted, not as a trophy, but as a reminder of the memories I made that day. A conversation piece for those who visit my home. A reminder of the life I took and the meat it provided for my family. I grew to respect my father-in-law while I was dating his daughter, and I came to love him when she became my wife. I believe this feeling is mutual as shown by the hunting experiences he's shared with me. I look forward to the next hunt he will take me on.