Mustangs Rule
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- Feb 4, 2021
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The day after I brought my custom Mauser 35 Whelen home from the gunsmith, I drove out to a 3,000 acre grain ranch to sight it in. It was a late summer morning, already getting hot. I could see heat waves through my fixed 2.5X Weaver scope.
There were at least a couple hundred Wild boar hitting the grain farmers in this valley really hard. Their destruction was incredible.
Depending on what ranch they chose to invade, there could be none or up sixty boar on these 3,000 acres any given night. And these were not the little Texas spuds that were being shot down there with AR 15’s spitting out .223’s.
These boar could get huge, were unintentionally grain fed. Many at 250-300 pounds being common with some in the 400-pound range. Next, those ancient Black Russian Wild boar genes ruled. The true Eurasian boar shared the same territory as tigers. The climate where I was could terribly harsh for half the year, and mountain lions were fully protected and aplenty. To survive boar need the aggressive protection those dark genes gave them.
The wild boar I hunted still had that ancient one inch thick cartilaginous, honest bullet repelling natural armor shoulder plate. Their tusks were long, strong and sharp. A cowboy hunting them with hounds on horseback with a 44 mag revolver, had his horse disemboweled by an angry boar, while he was in the saddle.
I had just finished sighting in my 35 Whelen when, looking out across the thousands of acres of flat farmland that just had it’s Barley crop harvested, I saw one.
A stray Black Russian boar nearly a mile away. This was unusual. Wild boar hate the heat, they have lost sweat glands in favor of their terribly tough hides. But there he was.
I had been hunting boar and been guiding other boar hunters on this ranch for years then.
Previously we had been using the 30-06, 270, 308, various 7mm magnum and non magnums but we had been losing too many boar. Two of the four landowner’s neighbors absolutely forbid anyone on their land, even for recovery of a wounded boar.
As geography would have it, this was the land the boar wanted to be during the heat of the day, with nothing to eat but with caves, trees for shade and springs.
Boar can die hard. Too many times, the shooting happened right near those two fence lines boundaries as boar popped out of the cropland. These “Poor Man’s Grizzley” got shot yet made it across the fence then died without being recovered.
We needed rifle calibers that were “boar-busters” yet could cover up to 250 yards and were reasonably light rifles. Hunting boar on these vast open plains could involve a lot of running trying to intercept them when they were leaving.
It was tempting to think that big scoped long range magnums were the answer but not so, though I did buy a big heavy Sako 338. The problem was that circumstances disfavored their use.
There was only one hill on these 3,000 acres and I/we would sit there, but too often what we saw in the too far distance and dim light was just the very tops of the feeding boar’s backs above the tall grain crops. Could not even tell “fore from aft”.
Then suddenly as first shooting light approached there would be what looked like a huge black snake moving through the tall grain as the boar were traveling in line single file heading to their daytime sanctuary.
There was a mowed firebreak all around the ranch and that was the place to run to, to be closer to them when they were leaving. And that was time to drop them in their tracks before they crossed the boundary line.
So back to this single unexpected surprise Black Boar
Watching him leave, I did some mental math, hopped in my little 4 door Saturn, put my 35 Whelen in the front passenger seat with a round in the magazine, left the bolt open and drove so fast on a well graded, flat dirt ranch road, that my car made a 20 foot high “rooster tail of dust”.
The boar saw it and ran fast for the fenceline, which once he crossed, I had no hunting or recovery rights. The race was on.
At what seemed the right moment, a split-second decision, I braked fast, got out in a cloud of dust, leaned by hip against the fender for support and got into a classic Olympic free standing offhand shooting position. The boar was about 65 yards away, running flat out, getting close to the fence, I led him and fired.
His four legs folded like a duck that had just taken to flight, this pig was flying for about 10 feet then crashed landed in a cloud of dust and was stone dead, just 20 feet from the fence.
I now had my “Boar buster”. That black Russian boar weight over 300 pounds on the ranch scale, gutted!
What an introduction to the 35 Whelen ! I had never seen such stopping power before in a reasonably light rifle with very acceptable recoil, which like a strong push not a hard sharp punch.
I began practicing endlessly with my 35 Whelen using .38 caliber lead pistol bullets powered down by two or tree “farts-worth” of Unique powder. I practiced working the bolt African Professional Hunter style, never taking the butt away/down from my shoulder. This was so fast.
Then I really turned on to the classic Whelen shooting sling, for prone, kneeling, sitting and standing shooting. Properly used with opposing isometric tension it is stabilizing and reduces recoil about 25%.
The Whelen killed like a tiger but kicked like a bobcat.
For open country, using that basic Olympic Free Standing shooting position was the ticket too and I really practiced with those light loads. With my 35 Whelen, I really began winning “The Boar Wars”!
There was only one real hill on the 3,000 acres. For two very good reasons, two rocky ledge den sites, we called it Rattlesnake Hill. Summer being the time when grain crops were high, that was high season for boar hunting and endless rattlers. So many with so many rodents feeding on grain. Snakes boots were just a must with so much running around, in the dark or dim light.
Rattlesnake hill was a major boar exit point and was thin of brush as no grain crops were planted there.
One morning I guessed right and was there waiting for them. I saw the big black snake line of boar coming through the tall grain. Once in the open I could see and shoot a young small sow, best meat. The race was on for the fence line a handful of seconds away.
Then I got up from the prone and took a well-practiced Olympic style standing offhand shot at the big lead boar on the run at maybe 140 yards. Boar run flat, no bouncing up and down.
At my shot, the boars' hind legs did a huge double back kick, his whole body went straight up vertical and he crash landed upside down and backwards stone dead. Another one that weighed in on the ranch scale way over 300 pounds gutted.
This was a double, then there was a triple.
The herd was again coming out single file, right to me. I was hiding behind a low juniper bush. I shot the leader, he dropped dead and boar near always race straight ahead under fire. Some hunters think they are charging not so.
At my juniper bush they split and I took one right then another left of my bush. My last shot was sloppy needed another. Three boar dead, four shots fired in maybe 5 short seconds. 600 pounds on the ranch meat hooks. All taken under 75 yards from the property line. That is what winning the “Boar Wars” looked like!
Legally, with depredation permits, I/we shot them under the full moon. Standing straight up on their hind legs eating peaches in an orchard, often breaking the limbs off.
After the grain harvest, the rancher would dump a load of grain chaff on the ground then from downwind under a full moon we would walk up to them and pick singles as best could, then count one, two, three and fire.
Fixed power scopes have one less lens than variables. Much brighter in dim light.
I let all my rifles earn their names. I has a little FN Mauser 7x57 Cavalry Carbine that I sporterized. It had a twist for the heaviest bullets, shot the 175 grain round nosed just great, also the 190 grain Barnes 7mm Originals and same weight Lapua mega, .
It was a ferocious killer out to 200 yards. Incredibly high SD penetration. It’s earned name was the Wolverine.
When using 250 grain lead core spire point bullets or Barnes 225 TSX in my 35 Whelen, I could reach out effectively with fine bullet expansion to 300 yards. From 30 feet to 300 yards everything I shot with it would just drop and stay put. That was the name my 35 Whelen earned. “Stay Put”
So one morning I was on a heavily used boar trail, right on the fence line of no recovery. Hundreds of fresh tracks leaving the ranch were everywhere. I thought the hunting was over for the day.
Then I saw huge boar ears sticking up above the grain seed head tops, coming up a slope right to me. I fell flat like a snake and though my 2.5 X fixed scope I could see “Boar-zilla’s” face filling my scope lens once he gained a little elevation. As he came up the grade, breathing a little heavy, his mouth was opening and closing, his jaw blocking a base of the neck shot
Just as his jaw lowered, I shot him right in his mouth. He rolled over on his back and spouted bright red blood high into the air like a dying whale.
He weighed 365 pounds on the ranch scale gutted. Dressing him out I saw that the heavy round nosed bullet went straight through his mouth, all the way down his throat, blew his lungs apart and I recovered the bullet in his liver.
And of course, this huge boar “stayed put”, right where he was when I shot him.
MR
There were at least a couple hundred Wild boar hitting the grain farmers in this valley really hard. Their destruction was incredible.
Depending on what ranch they chose to invade, there could be none or up sixty boar on these 3,000 acres any given night. And these were not the little Texas spuds that were being shot down there with AR 15’s spitting out .223’s.
These boar could get huge, were unintentionally grain fed. Many at 250-300 pounds being common with some in the 400-pound range. Next, those ancient Black Russian Wild boar genes ruled. The true Eurasian boar shared the same territory as tigers. The climate where I was could terribly harsh for half the year, and mountain lions were fully protected and aplenty. To survive boar need the aggressive protection those dark genes gave them.
The wild boar I hunted still had that ancient one inch thick cartilaginous, honest bullet repelling natural armor shoulder plate. Their tusks were long, strong and sharp. A cowboy hunting them with hounds on horseback with a 44 mag revolver, had his horse disemboweled by an angry boar, while he was in the saddle.
I had just finished sighting in my 35 Whelen when, looking out across the thousands of acres of flat farmland that just had it’s Barley crop harvested, I saw one.
A stray Black Russian boar nearly a mile away. This was unusual. Wild boar hate the heat, they have lost sweat glands in favor of their terribly tough hides. But there he was.
I had been hunting boar and been guiding other boar hunters on this ranch for years then.
Previously we had been using the 30-06, 270, 308, various 7mm magnum and non magnums but we had been losing too many boar. Two of the four landowner’s neighbors absolutely forbid anyone on their land, even for recovery of a wounded boar.
As geography would have it, this was the land the boar wanted to be during the heat of the day, with nothing to eat but with caves, trees for shade and springs.
Boar can die hard. Too many times, the shooting happened right near those two fence lines boundaries as boar popped out of the cropland. These “Poor Man’s Grizzley” got shot yet made it across the fence then died without being recovered.
We needed rifle calibers that were “boar-busters” yet could cover up to 250 yards and were reasonably light rifles. Hunting boar on these vast open plains could involve a lot of running trying to intercept them when they were leaving.
It was tempting to think that big scoped long range magnums were the answer but not so, though I did buy a big heavy Sako 338. The problem was that circumstances disfavored their use.
There was only one hill on these 3,000 acres and I/we would sit there, but too often what we saw in the too far distance and dim light was just the very tops of the feeding boar’s backs above the tall grain crops. Could not even tell “fore from aft”.
Then suddenly as first shooting light approached there would be what looked like a huge black snake moving through the tall grain as the boar were traveling in line single file heading to their daytime sanctuary.
There was a mowed firebreak all around the ranch and that was the place to run to, to be closer to them when they were leaving. And that was time to drop them in their tracks before they crossed the boundary line.
So back to this single unexpected surprise Black Boar
Watching him leave, I did some mental math, hopped in my little 4 door Saturn, put my 35 Whelen in the front passenger seat with a round in the magazine, left the bolt open and drove so fast on a well graded, flat dirt ranch road, that my car made a 20 foot high “rooster tail of dust”.
The boar saw it and ran fast for the fenceline, which once he crossed, I had no hunting or recovery rights. The race was on.
At what seemed the right moment, a split-second decision, I braked fast, got out in a cloud of dust, leaned by hip against the fender for support and got into a classic Olympic free standing offhand shooting position. The boar was about 65 yards away, running flat out, getting close to the fence, I led him and fired.
His four legs folded like a duck that had just taken to flight, this pig was flying for about 10 feet then crashed landed in a cloud of dust and was stone dead, just 20 feet from the fence.
I now had my “Boar buster”. That black Russian boar weight over 300 pounds on the ranch scale, gutted!
What an introduction to the 35 Whelen ! I had never seen such stopping power before in a reasonably light rifle with very acceptable recoil, which like a strong push not a hard sharp punch.
I began practicing endlessly with my 35 Whelen using .38 caliber lead pistol bullets powered down by two or tree “farts-worth” of Unique powder. I practiced working the bolt African Professional Hunter style, never taking the butt away/down from my shoulder. This was so fast.
Then I really turned on to the classic Whelen shooting sling, for prone, kneeling, sitting and standing shooting. Properly used with opposing isometric tension it is stabilizing and reduces recoil about 25%.
The Whelen killed like a tiger but kicked like a bobcat.
For open country, using that basic Olympic Free Standing shooting position was the ticket too and I really practiced with those light loads. With my 35 Whelen, I really began winning “The Boar Wars”!
There was only one real hill on the 3,000 acres. For two very good reasons, two rocky ledge den sites, we called it Rattlesnake Hill. Summer being the time when grain crops were high, that was high season for boar hunting and endless rattlers. So many with so many rodents feeding on grain. Snakes boots were just a must with so much running around, in the dark or dim light.
Rattlesnake hill was a major boar exit point and was thin of brush as no grain crops were planted there.
One morning I guessed right and was there waiting for them. I saw the big black snake line of boar coming through the tall grain. Once in the open I could see and shoot a young small sow, best meat. The race was on for the fence line a handful of seconds away.
Then I got up from the prone and took a well-practiced Olympic style standing offhand shot at the big lead boar on the run at maybe 140 yards. Boar run flat, no bouncing up and down.
At my shot, the boars' hind legs did a huge double back kick, his whole body went straight up vertical and he crash landed upside down and backwards stone dead. Another one that weighed in on the ranch scale way over 300 pounds gutted.
This was a double, then there was a triple.
The herd was again coming out single file, right to me. I was hiding behind a low juniper bush. I shot the leader, he dropped dead and boar near always race straight ahead under fire. Some hunters think they are charging not so.
At my juniper bush they split and I took one right then another left of my bush. My last shot was sloppy needed another. Three boar dead, four shots fired in maybe 5 short seconds. 600 pounds on the ranch meat hooks. All taken under 75 yards from the property line. That is what winning the “Boar Wars” looked like!
Legally, with depredation permits, I/we shot them under the full moon. Standing straight up on their hind legs eating peaches in an orchard, often breaking the limbs off.
After the grain harvest, the rancher would dump a load of grain chaff on the ground then from downwind under a full moon we would walk up to them and pick singles as best could, then count one, two, three and fire.
Fixed power scopes have one less lens than variables. Much brighter in dim light.
I let all my rifles earn their names. I has a little FN Mauser 7x57 Cavalry Carbine that I sporterized. It had a twist for the heaviest bullets, shot the 175 grain round nosed just great, also the 190 grain Barnes 7mm Originals and same weight Lapua mega, .
It was a ferocious killer out to 200 yards. Incredibly high SD penetration. It’s earned name was the Wolverine.
When using 250 grain lead core spire point bullets or Barnes 225 TSX in my 35 Whelen, I could reach out effectively with fine bullet expansion to 300 yards. From 30 feet to 300 yards everything I shot with it would just drop and stay put. That was the name my 35 Whelen earned. “Stay Put”
So one morning I was on a heavily used boar trail, right on the fence line of no recovery. Hundreds of fresh tracks leaving the ranch were everywhere. I thought the hunting was over for the day.
Then I saw huge boar ears sticking up above the grain seed head tops, coming up a slope right to me. I fell flat like a snake and though my 2.5 X fixed scope I could see “Boar-zilla’s” face filling my scope lens once he gained a little elevation. As he came up the grade, breathing a little heavy, his mouth was opening and closing, his jaw blocking a base of the neck shot
Just as his jaw lowered, I shot him right in his mouth. He rolled over on his back and spouted bright red blood high into the air like a dying whale.
He weighed 365 pounds on the ranch scale gutted. Dressing him out I saw that the heavy round nosed bullet went straight through his mouth, all the way down his throat, blew his lungs apart and I recovered the bullet in his liver.
And of course, this huge boar “stayed put”, right where he was when I shot him.
MR
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