Wildboars in the blizzard! Part 2

The night was long, I could not sleep very much. As I got up, I went to look out the front door. Faco went out fast, but when he saw the picture, he recoiled back home. What a miserable day!! A foot of snow had fallen, it was still snowing hard, there was more wind than yesterday and the temperature was at least seven bellow zero. I could not imagine how the day would be high on the mountain, but we will discover soon.

It took us to reach the top through the snow, and about half past nine we started tracking. I put a Faco in the track, and did not picked the trail until a piece of field where the wind had been blowing so hard, that the snow was not accumulated. The frozen blood looked good between the little snow that had fallen. But it was just advancing a few meters into the heaths, and immerse ourselves in the snow.

We couldnt see anything at all, and Faco did not know how to continue. The blood was eight inches below the frozen snow, and both the dog and us did not know what to do. Gradually we moved watching the branches of the heaths, but it looked like the storm had erased any sign. It was a disaster!!. I decided to free the dog and walk around to see if we find him. He had seen the direction he took, and with so much blood, he could not be far behind.

The team morale was hanging by a thread. We had been giving rodeos for an hour and nothing. In addition, the boar could be in our feet covered with snow, so the only one who could find it was Faco. The dog was doing circles, but did not seem to find anything special. We were wasting time!!.

So we went back to the last blood and start to literally sweep the mountain in search of blood.

Kneeling on the ground, we started removing the snow with the hands to see if we can find some blood underneath it. And yes! We raised a few feet away from the last blood, a few drops of blood, which stood out from the frozen snow. Were tiny, but at least was something. We swept every meter of the different paths the boar could have chosen, and occasionally a drop of blood got up from the bottom. It's was a Chinese work but at least we were advancing slowly. In an hour and a half we had advanced about 70 meters, it would take more or less, but we encourage to find him sooner or later. By then, we could not felt our fingers , and I had literally frozen pants. Faco also began to warm up, and when he saw us digging into the snow began to put his nose in the bottom. Noticing that much of the blood we where finding, was under his tracks.

We followed our own, until a dry bark from Faco interrupted us. We looked at each other as ..." Did you hear that too? " The blizzard did not allow us to hear the bell of the dog, but the barking was unmistakable. Juanjo remained at the last blood, and I went flying in the direction we had hear him, hoping that he had found the boar.

And so it was, about 70 meters from where we were Faco was bitting the boar. The feeling of joy, satisfaction, cold, exhaustion and pride were merged into a big hug with Juanjo and Faco. We had done it! We sat in the snow, to assimilate and savor the moment, we had made it... It had been all so amazing that little could been said.

Without doubt the worst day of the season was our best day of hunting. An unforgettable cast, that we will remember on many occasions. We had deserve it! Thanks to Juanjo for joining!. And thanks also to Faco,for finding the boar on those conditions. That's my dog!

We just had to go back to the car from the ravine where we were stuck...


Pedro Ampuero