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There's Is No F In Boar


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THERE'S IS NO F IN BOAR

On a recent trip to Sussex Owen aka The Stalker see (there are plenty of squirrels in Sussex) invited me down to Somerset to shoot my first wild Boar.

He said he could almost guarantee success probably a 95% Chance of a big animal,

 

Well with odds like that I would be foolish to decline his offer so yesterday at 4, 45 am a young excited 68 year old leaped out of bed long before the alarm went off showered loaded the car and with my wife as co pilot headed up the dreaded A21 to be sucked into the flow of traffic that was already building on the M25 motorway.

Five hours later we arrived at our destination.

 

Owen welcomed us with a nice cuppa, my wife decided to do some Christmas shopping so we loaded the gear into Owens car and headed west to the shooting ground stopping for a full English breakfast.

 

On reaching the ground I was introduced to the owner who had just returned from Romania having had a few days driven boar shooting, I was invited to check the zero on my rifle, which was fine, Owen said that he was looking for a boar of around 200lb which he would take to a farm shop where a butcher was on standby, (no pressure then) just after 2pm we quietly walked down a ride and climbed into the high seat,

Fifteen minutes later the owner arrived and spread a bag on pig nuts in a clearing in front of us, so the stage was set,

 

Between the trees I could see dark shapes moving first a snout then the back of a boar which turned out to be an infant, Owen said we want one at least five times the size of that one, I slowly lifted my Sauer Outback in ,308 and placed the cross hairs on the animals head and picked a spot between the eye and the animals ear, and thought, when the big one turns up it should not be too difficult to drop him,

 

Time went by, three more piglets arrived then vanished, as darkness fell so did my excitement and when Owen said that’s it, I unloaded and climbed down from the seat.

 

We went back to meet the owner who offered all sorts of suggestion as to why the animals had not shown up, on the drive back to Owens he seemed a little subdued there was no sign of the sharp wit that I took the full brunt of on his visit to Sussex

 

Four hours later it was a Tired exhausted old man who crawled into bed, laid his head on the pillow thinking,

 

Boar What Boar, there’s is no F in Boar.

 

Thanks Owen for the invite, I look forward to the Steaks, keep well, and when I get back from France next year, you can come up and try again for a Sussex Fallow.

 

Regards Geoff

Edited by scraggoak
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