Bear Grease - Ep. 221: This Country Life - Hogs

Episode Date: June 7, 2024

Brent's talking wild hogs this week and sharing his brother Tim's story that could've turned tragic. You'll hear why so many put so much value on pigs in the past and how they've affected not only the environment, but also a lot of the creatures that share the habitat. Say it with us, "WOO PIG SOOIE!" It's time for MeatEater's This Country Life podcast. Connect with Brent and MeatEater MeatEater on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and Youtube Shop Bear Grease MerchSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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Welcome to This Country Life. I'm your host, Brent Reeves. From Coon Hunting to Trotlining and just general country living, I want you to stay a while as I share my stories and country skills that will help you beat the system. This Country Life is proudly presented as part of Meat Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you the best outdoor podcast the Airways have to offer. All right, friends, pull you up a chair or drop that tailgate. I think I've got a thing or two to teach you.

Hogs. Big Sue. We're talking about hogs this week, and unfortunately, their presence on the landscape outside of the confines of a pen or a skillet is mostly bad. I'm going to tell you how this whole hog issue started

and where we are now, but first, I'm going to tell you a story. Now, I've thought about whether to include this story or not for quite a while. It's a little intense for how I normally start the show, but our topic this week is important. it, and I want to show you all how serious folks were back in the day, and even recently, when it comes to hog claims and the hogs that roamed on them.

Now, this one comes from my brother Tim, and maybe one day I'll convince him to sit down with me and talk, and y'all can hear these stories straight from him. But I asked him to write it in his own words and let me read it, and he did just that. The only things I omitted from Tim's version was the name of the man in the boat, who caused a problem and the name of our family friend who wanted to fix it when it happened. Here it is, my brother Tim's words and my voice. In 1977, I was 19 years old and had been married a month in February when dad called me to see if I wanted to go squirrel hunting with him and a family friend.

We started out south of the little lake on the lower potlatch road where you go to Vince Bluff, which was a ferry crossing during high water and just a place to cross the Saline River during the low water times. We unloaded the horses, saddled up, and turned the dogs loose. Besides Peanut, I don't remember what all dogs we had, but our friend had brought a couple of his own, so I know we had at least three. The river was about half bank full, so all the sluos had water in them. And we'd killed several squirrels that morning as we approached the river. the river at Vance Bluff.

We hunted up along the river from there and got to a place called Little Mill. I don't know if there was ever a sawmill there or what, but there was a place on the bank that pushed out towards the river where you could make an easy trip to get down to the river because it was a fairly high bank there. We got off the horses to let them rest and take a break. We were sitting on the ground about 10 yards from where we had. the horses tied. Our 22 rifles were secured in the scabbards. We just sat there visiting, resting the dogs and horses and ourselves, and we heard a boat coming up the river. It was an old

man that we all knew. He knew us as well. And he had a black and white shagged dog in the boat with him. The dog looked like some kind of shepherd. Anyway, the man sees us and pulls up into the pushed-out place that went down to the river, and due to the river, being a little bit of the river, being And up, his boat hit the bank about even where we were sitting. He was 10 yards to our front, and we were about as directly in the middle of him and our horses as we could get. And when his boat came to a stop, he stood up with a Remington Model 742 rifle. I heard the safety click off as he faced us and said, I've been listening to y'all's dogs, and I know y'all are hog-hunting.

What y'all need to remember is not very far from where you're sitting. Someone got killed over this hog plane. He had just killed the hog and got caught with it and was killed right here close. Dad and our friend both said, We ain't hog hunting, we're squirrel hunting. The man in the boat said, I don't care what you say. I know what you're doing.

You need to remember when you're bent overgutting, hog someone may be behind the tree out there in the woods about to kill you our friends said you need to remember that too the next time you're out in the woods now my dad called him by by name and said my grandpa ran hogs down here for 50 years this was and is our hog claim not yours the man yelled back it's mine now and remember what i said he laid that rifle down in the boat he never put the safety back on. He grabbed the bank beside where he was sitting and pushed his boat out in the edge of the river, and up the river he went.

I don't mind telling you. I was thinking to myself, I got to get me a pistol to towed or never get off the horse without a gun close by. While I was thinking that, I heard our friend say to my dad as he stood up and made his way toward his horse. I'm fixing to kill that SOB when he comes back by us going downriver. That's when dad said, you sat down now. you ain't going to kill him.

My friend just stood there looking at my dad, and for a minute, he looked like you wanted to say something, but he never did, which is remarkable, especially if you know this fellow. Now, I do believe if it hadn't been for my dad that day, my friend might have done it. According to my brother Tim, that's just how that happened. Now, let me add a little extra here about Tim's story. The old man in the boat referenced in the evening. incident that took place on the river where a person was killed over a hog, and the fellow that shot him was acquitted due to the stock laws and the feeling towards ownership of free-range

stock at the time. And even though it had happened years before that day, it would have been of little solace to those on the wrong end of the gun, as was the case up in North Arkansas in 2017 when a man was convicted of murdering another fella over hog-hunting territory. Unfortunately, some folks take this stuff seriously, and there were plenty more stories just like that one from our part of the world, and they're not exclusive to South Arkansas, and that was the feeling most everywhere, because hogs were such a valuable commodity in each family's survival. Hogs running loose were caught with dogs and traps, and the boars would be castrated and released, and the rest would be marked by cutting their ears in a specific way. Each family had their own mark like a brand for cattle. The reed family mark is a crop split on the right and half under crop on the left. Now that translates into the end quarter of the right ear of the hog being cut off.

Then that same ear was cut right down in the middle for the split. The left ear was then cut removing the bottom quarter of the ear in the vicinity of where the hog's earlobe would be if a hog had one. Now that was our mark, and it was as proof positive of ownership as a fingerprint back then. All right, you know what a marked hog is and the feelings folks had for them. Let's get on with the show.

Last spring, Clay Newcomb and I collaborated with Jason Phelps at Phelps Game Calls and building each of our own favorite turkey diaphragms called Prime Cuts. Now, I'm going to tell you, I love mine because it's easy to use. I'm not going to win a turkey calling contest. It's just not going to happen. But when I run this call, I get the sounds that gobblers are looking for. I have a great turkey hunting track record.

If you go listen to real turkeys out in the woods, they're not going to win calling contests, right? That's who I listen to. I can make those sounds on my cut. I also hunt with Phelps's cut, and I hunt with Clay's cut because they're all three great cuts. Check out prime cuts at Felps. I think you'll be glad you did. And you'll find out that the Steve Ronella cut is an easy-to-use cut for beginning callers

who just want to start making good turkey noises and getting action. Wild hogs, pine ruders, russians, reservoirs, whatever you want to call them, feral pigs have a deep history woven into the tapestry of our culture. For me, it runs deep in the heritage of my family, both in survival and to a degree,

sport. Also, as you just heard, a little drama. Thankfully, that all ended there. But nine generations of Reeves have roamed the Salina Robots in Cleveland County, Arkansas, making vittles out of the animals that live there. Arkansas now has an estimated white-tailed deer herd of one million. But back in the day, they'd just about hunted zero. Before Europeans lit in Arkansas, deer were everywhere. Old Hernando de Soto encountered Native American folks dressed in deer skins. The cattle people depended

heavily on deer meat for survival. Early settlers hunted the white-tailed deer without restriction for decades. Roads, houses, farms, and towns soon encroached on their habitat. And it led to a steep decline in deer populations.

In 1916, the Arkansas Game of Fish Commission, established the state's first deer season, and in the 1920s created deer refuges. By the mid-30s, however, there was only a few hundred remaining in Arkansas. Now, my family, no doubt, played a part in the almost extirpation of deer from the state on the micro scale as it related to the area where I'm from, as did everyone else who was struggling to scratch out of living on the edge of the American expansion. We also

shoulder some of the responsibility for the current situation when it comes to wild hogs. Pigs have been here since introduced by Wait for it. Wait for it. Hernando de Soto in 1541. It's believed that that well-meaning an adventure-seeking Spaniard let some of its hogs get loose, and from that moment on, the poor sign's scourge on humanity has been at the root of a lot of problems, both environmentally and socially.

Once a breeding pair gets loose, look out. Hogs everywhere. It's literally that simple. Check this out. Female feral hogs can be ready to start making bacon as young as three to four months age. The majority of wait until they're about a year old, but not all of them. Sows come in season every 18 to 24 days until they're successfully bred. Then, an average about four months later, congratulations, Earth,

one to 14 more little piggies are dropped on your landscape to do their evil bidding. They average doing that twice a year, all of them, every year. It's estimated that it would take a mortality rate of at least 66% to keep the population of hogs in check, just to keep it where it's at without letting it grow any more, 66%. Arkansas is one of the top ten states with the largest wild pig populations. They're reported in all 75 counties with as many as 4 to 5 million total in the top. the natural state. And they'll eat anything they can find.

They're the catfish of the landscape. Anything and everything is on the menu for them. Plant or animal. Live or dead. Frogs, snakes, deer fongs, turkey poultry, it don't matter. If they can catch it, they'll eat it. Don't let them fool you either. They're quick.

They're vicious and adept catching their own groceries on the hoof as they were rooting them up out of the ground. I remember seeing them catch live chickens off the ground with the quickness and speed of a cutting horse. Now those live chickens got caught in a chicken house, towed across the field over a fence and chucked in the hog pen is a mystery to me.

Important part of that story is that they'll get you if they want to get you. Now recently, I was watching an Arkansas Game of Fish Commission meeting that was recorded on May the 16th of this year. And among the items presented that day was an annual report by Ryan Farnie. the Farrell Hall coordinator for the gaming fish. It's been out for two weeks, and as the particular moment in which I'm looking at it, it's only been viewed 1,956 times

on the YouTube channel owned by the Gaming Fish. Good gosh, there was more folks than that at last March is Black Bear Bananza. There's some good info in these meetings, and those of us that like to ramble around or even have a general interest in what the Game of Fish is doing owe it to themselves to watch it when you have a chance. But Ryan gave a great presentation on the state of feral hogs in Arkansas.

The numbers were quite staggering for me, and I've been around woods hogs all my life. We've already established the fact that they were important to folks, some more than others, but the facts that during the times when deer numbers were thin and money was tight, hogs were a valuable commodity. They were a main source of protein in the advent of being able to cure and store meat, downright necessity for families living in the country, like mine. But they'd always been pretty well held in check. Their numbers were fairly levelized by the folks that handled them,

and it wasn't until the 1980s that hog hunting got popular, and the hog numbers started to increase. Now, that mirrors the pinnacle of turkey numbers, at least here in my state, and with the hog numbers increasing, the turkey numbers did just the opposite. I was listening to an interview of Dr. Stephen Ditchcock, a leading authority on the topic down in Auburn University in preparation for this episode, and Dr. Ditchcoff said hogs move slowly from one area to another, but on the interstate, they move at 70 miles an hour. Now, what he means by that is folks are catching them in other places and moving them to areas where they can hunt them,

and them folks ought to be in jail. Now, when I was a kid growing up, seeing hogs in the woods wasn't uncommon in certain places. The areas with hogs in southeast Arkansas were all historically the same places that they'd always been. But now, they're everywhere. Tim has them in his yard at night, rooting up the world like there's no tomorrow. He's trapped them, shot them, and just like the jelly of the month club, hogs are the gift that keeps on giving. As we've already said, a hog normally has two.

two litters a year, but if she times it right, she can domino another bushel of infestious pork chops at the end of the year, just as the females in her first litter are prepping to drop theirs too. That's a lot of hogs. Now, you don't have to be a brain scientist or a rocket surgeon to see that if we're going to have a chance of getting ahead of them, that hunting them, the traditional way ain't the answer. It's an enjoyable pastime for sure, and I love it. And I support by friends that do the traditional way that we've always done it with hog dogs. But as a sound tool of conservation, it doesn't even register on the scale of effectiveness. Arkansas Game and Fish partnered with numerous state and federal agencies through a conservation

incentive program and are helping private landowners battle the problem. There's a lot of information on the program on the Game and Fish website, and for those that don't live in Arkansas, well, first, I'm sorry. But secondly, check with your state's department and natural resources or game commission and see if you're part of the program. You can just about bet that if you have a team competing in the SEC or from a state next to one that does,

you've got a program that covers you. So, big deal. There's hogs in the bottoms, who cares if some folks turn something loose to hunt them on the weekends. Why should I care? Well, here's why. As we've already found out, once they get started having piglets, there's no way to get ahead of them. And I mentioned turkeys at the beginning saying that they started a downward trend as soon as hog started theirs upward.

Now, that's just my opinion and observation. I can't back that up with anything other than what I saw on the landscape. Maybe it's a coincidence. Here's something that ain't. Farrell hogs impact turkeys in three ways. ways. They consume their eggs, they compete for resources and alter the habitat. That's three out of three. Vince Lombardi, the legendary coach of the Green Bay Packers, was famous for not wanting to pass the football. He said there are three things that can happen when you throw a pass, and two of them are bad.

There is no one out of three with feral hogs and turkeys. They're all bad. 64% of a feral hogs diet is massed. That's not only affecting turkeys, but deer, quail, squirrels, and every other native game and non-game animal in the ecosystem. One study showed that feral hogs accounted for 25% of turkey nest predation. That was higher than any other known nest robber, including skunks and coons. Some control studies showed hogs hitting 80% of nests. These rascaries have got to go.

I touched on it earlier, but I was surprised at how much of an issue it is. I can also see how it can get misconstrued with a narrow mindset on how all this works, but cutting a few hogs loose to chase on the weekends is exactly how all this has got to where it is now. Y'all hang on with me through this part. We've got some begotten to do. Ryan Farley's band of untouchables pulled genetic samples from the hogs that were taken off wildlife management areas in Arkansas. By the way, that's 23,081 over the last 10 years. From these hogs, they've identified six distinct populations.

Only one of those was exclusive to one spot. Now, those hogs live on Fort Chaffey, a U.S. Army installation, famous for seed ticks, Cuban refugees, and Elvis's first military haircut. Now, why is that significant in the grand scheme of hogs in Arkansas? I'm glad you asked. Because access is extremely limited. Folks ain't just running around at Fort Chaffey for the fun of it. Trust me, I've been there.

It ain't fun. I'm the one that can testify to the seriousness of the seed ticks. Elvis and the Cubans were before my time. Anyway, limited access means hogs are being brought in there or taken from there to other areas. Of all the other areas tested, 60% were found to be from other places, and the distance had to be significant. The Arkansas information said that over 200 kilometers would raise a flag because the genetics

of place found in a hog would only remain for three generations. And since we've already learned that one hawk can theoretically have three generations in one year. That's pretty compelling evidence that either these pigs can fly or someone has given them a ride down the road. 60%. 60% of the efforts used in controlling the feral hog issue were because of translocated hogs. Come on, man, we need to do what Barton 5 said and nip it, nip that in the bud. But they can't do it without us and we can't do it. We can't do it. We can't do it without them. We got to decide right now, and I'm not just talking about us here in Arkansas, but everywhere. We got to decide if we're ever going to have turkeys like we used to,

or even have a remote chance of getting our quail numbers up to a respectable level. We got to act now. Michael Roseman and I bumped a covey of birds last February when we were rabbit hunting, and I about fainted. It had to be 30 in that covey and was the first wild birds I'd seen in years. That one place you won't find quail now where you used to is in southeast Arkansas where I grew up. There are delicate creatures to begin with and are fighting a number of environmental factors, but a rising tide of dead hogs raises all the ground nest and bird boats. Dang, near stretch that analogy to death, but you know what I mean.

Fewer hogs, more turkeys and quail. That's it in a nutshell. Also, I want you to understand that I love hogs. They hold a cherished part of my memories and the stories of hunting them with my father and our family dealing with hogs both wild and domesticated or innumerable. But right now, at this moment, knowing what I know about the situation we're in and in neighboring states, if I could mash a button and get rid of every feral hog in the country, I'd mash it twice just to make sure I got them all.

Brent, that was harsh. Well, these are harsh times. And who knew there was such a storied history of hogs at Arkansas? Well, with the University of Arkansas mascot named the Razorbacks, just about everybody, yeah, that's probably true. That's going to do it for me this week. I appreciate y'all listening and all the wonderful feedback. It's not all doom and gloom, and I don't want to end on a bad note,

but we can all work together. We can solve this hog problem. We're just going to have to work, and we're going to have to work hard. Please share our podcast with someone who you think might enjoy. It really helps in connecting us with the like-minded folks. Check out our other podcasts and immediate or family when you can. There's something for everyone and one of them. Guarantee it.

But until next week, this is Brent Reeves. Signing off. Y'all be careful. On blood trails, the stories don't end when the hunt is over. They just get darker. I've seen something in the road. I've instantly. thought it was a sleeping bed, and there was a full of blood.

Oh, my God, he doesn't have a head. Blood Trails is a true crime podcast born in the outdoors, where the terrain is unforgiving, the evidence is scarce, and the truth gets buried under brush and silence. Indications were he should be right there, but he wasn't. This season, we're going deeper, from cold case files to whispered suspicions, from remote mountains to frozen backwoods. Each story begins in the wilderness and ends in darkness. Because out here, there are no witnesses, no cameras, just fragments and the people left behind trying to piece them back together. He's not an honest person. He's incapable of being honest.

Somebody somewhere knows something. I'm Jordan Sillers. Season two of Blood Trails premieres April 16th. Follow now on Apple, Iheart, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts.