The close of hunting season was upon me, and I had yet to field test Nosler’s M48 Liberty rifle in their hot new .26 Nosler chambering. Chuck Wechsler, my editor here at Sporting Classics, arranged a last-minute hunt for us at Buck and Boar, Troy Ayer’s preserve near Swansea, South Carolina.
For more than 30 years, Troy has been offering rifle and archery hunts for bucks and European boar on his 800-acre woodland. Having no idea what to expect and knowing Troy’s success rate is about as close to 100 percent as one can get, I sort of thought I’d be sitting on a stand overlooking a feeder and potting the best boar that came in to gorge on grain.
You can do that if you want. But Troy also offers spotting and stalking, which is a terrific way to become acquainted with the habits of European boars and the wooded sandhills where they thrive. Chuck and I chose the latter and were fortunate to have Blas Sandoval as our guide. Blas has been guiding for Troy for 14 years.
European boar were first imported into a hunting preserve in New Hampshire in the 1890s. More than willing to charge if wounded, they soon became a favored game animal among wealthy landowners in the Southeast. As everyone understands, they soon interbred with feral pigs and produced wild hogs widely known for tearing up habitat.
Troy’s boars are not feral animals, but pure Eurasian stock that he carefully manages so they are healthy, available in numbers to ensure a successful hunt, and well within the carrying capacity of his acreage.
Our hunt was scheduled for the first day of spring. As clouds flirted with the sun and the temperature climbed toward the high 50s, we set off in Blas’ pick-up. He told Chuck and me that the boars would be difficult to spot. Nocturnal, they mostly sleep during the day, tucking their massive bodies inside dense clumps of brush or the root systems of fallen trees. Their coloration, ranging from dusky dark tan to brownish black, blends well with dried pine needles that in many areas carpeted the forest floor.
Blas drove us by the feeder where the night before I’d seen perhaps 80 boars, sows and piglets come in for supper. We wound slowly along a woodland road that dipped into a swale and rose again. Here we parked, got out, loaded our rifles, and began to poke slowly through the trees. We stopped every 30 steps or so, and carefully glassed the terrain ahead of us, pausing to scrutinize any rounded hummock that could be a back or any stump with short, broken branches that might be ears.
Crossing a low rise, we saw a sow with her piglets down along a muddy creek. Nearby a boar was curled asleep, his back toward us. We picked our way onwards, crossing the creek, climbing a gentle hill, and dropping back down toward the swamp. There Blas showed us the opening of a cave in the clay maybe five feet high and three feet wide and running for upwards of 50 feet beneath the ridge.
Nested in pine needles, wild boars can be tough to spot.
“There’s gotta be a hog in there,” Chuck informed me. “I think you should go in after it.” Then he laughed.
We ambled on until Blas held up his hand and said softly, “There, under the trees.”
Glassing the spot, I could make out two hogs lying down. The one behind was darker and bigger, probably a sow, and looking off to the left. The other, lighter brown, was staring straight at us, its nose resting on the ground. Whispering that it was a boar, Blas motioned me forward. I moved up and assumed the sitting position, knee under my left elbow.
“Front one?” I asked? “Head shot?”
Blas nodded.
I held the crosshairs on the Leupold VX-3i scope between his eyes, knowing that from my steady position, the rifle would deliver its 140-grain bullet precisely where it was supposed to. Having plenty of time, I let out a little breath and squeezed the trigger. As the darker hog rose and fled, the one I shot jerked, rolled on its side, and began to quiver. Just for insurance I gave it another round in the same spot. Its death was sudden and clean, just the way I like it.
Chuck and I couldn’t have been happier with my fine 175 pounder for the table, the perfect conclusion for a morning’s hunt.
We estimated the boar’s weight at 175 pounds, excellent for the grill or slow cooked in a cast iron Dutch oven.
Boar hunting with Troy can be as easy as you’d like it. The season runs year-round. Typical boars run between 150 pounds, fine table fare to be sure, up to nearly 600 pounds.
Don’t overlook the opportunity to harvest a Corsican, mouflon, dall or Hawaiian ram or a trophy whitetail buck in the 130 to 150 class. Buck season opens on Aug. 15 and closes Jan. 1. South Carolina hunting regulations apply.
The main lodge can accommodate 10 hunters over a great room where meals are cooked and served. Fronting the lodge is a 30-foot long screened porch. Nearby, on the edge of a pond, a small cabin houses four guests with its own kitchenette. Though why any guests would prefer to cook for themselves when Troy’s wife, Kim, is a first class chef is utterly beyond me.
When you come, bring your fly rod. If you are the first in your party to harvest a boar, you’ll just have to pass the time playing with bluegills and crappies of a pound or two. Your buddies will feel so sorry for you.
If you want to go:
Buck and Boar Lodge is located at 1935 Pine Plain Road, Swansea, SC, 29160. Visit http://www.boar-hunter.com. Contact Troy at trackertroy@icloud.com or 803-260-2064.