Wild boar hunting: The fascination of wild boar hunting as an art that passes from one generation to the next. Grandson and grandfather hunting wild boars together.
I'm lucky: my parents decided to get married very young and this benefited me in at least two different ways, I have very young parents and I still have the opportunity to go hunting in the company of my grandfather who now has white hair and can't see more like in the past but experience has to sell. Sometimes he comes with us even just to eat a sandwich up in the mountains, or to drink a good glass of red in company but that's okay. At 86, I also hope to want to go up to the mountains with my rifle in my arms. I'd put my signature on it!
He was the one who taught me everything I know about weapons, animals, mountains and hunting: my father, you won't believe it, hates all this, so my grandfather's happiness when he found a particularly receptive grandson in terms of hunting you can easily imagine it. The hunt we both prefer? The one with wild boar clearly, even if by now grandfather Vittorio no longer participates, at least not actively.
Like any self-respecting hunter, I still remember perfectly the first day of boar hunting: grandfather Vittorio was the head of the hunt and he never told me, but I remember his emotion in introducing me to his companions as his grandson. In short, I still have no children, but I think it will be the same emotion that I will feel in sharing my passions with the blood of my blood.
It must have been the beginning of December, I only remember that it was terribly cold about which I did not complain even once; on the other hand I was only 16 and I didn't want them to send me right back home. With me I had my first rifle given to me by my grandfather, obviously with great disdain on the part of my father who would have preferred me to share my passion for cycling with him. It was a used weapon, but to me it was the most beautiful one could wish for.
The appointment was set for 6,30 but at 5,30 I was already at the house waiting for my grandfather to come and pick me up. After a few winks and a few "hello newbies" they loaded me on the off-road vehicle and we went up to the mountains. Back then the trails were barely pronounced and it really took courage to climb the area. Grandfather advised me to position myself on a ridge from which I had the opportunity to see the whole valley: I knew the area very well, in autumn he always took me there to look for mushrooms. He advised me to keep an eye on the path that jumped out of the woods because if the wild boars were on the run they had to pass by necessarily. Giovanni was joined by a boy who was a few years older than me.
Once the dogs were untied and the posts assigned, it was silence: that tide of men became silent and invisible, waiting for the smallest noise. I don't remember how much time passed, an hour, maybe two, what I remember is the barking of Roger, the dog of my grandfather and the great movement all around. The wild boars had been found and there was only to wait "breathe deeply and do not get caught in a hurry" Giovanni told me just as someone exploded some shots and I was praying that the wild boar would pass through our path. I believe it was the first and last time my prayers were answered. A few minutes later, not far from us, we began to hear the dogs stop: the wild boar was hunted by dogs in the bushes. I knew perfectly well what would happen shortly after, grandfather had told me a thousand times. The boar went off like a bolt of lightning trying to get around the dogs and running right towards us. I remember bushes in motion and my heart going like a train: I took the rifle, I aimed, but Giovanni, how can I forget, was faster than me. His shots were followed by mine which, as it was easy to imagine, were badly placed. Fortunately, about forty meters downstream the black devil met my grandfather. A few minutes later I heard him scream: Got it!
As I reached the group, I was rather dull, I thought about the crappy shots from my rifle: “It's a team game Emanuele”, my grandfather told me and that day I understood something more about wild boar hunting and the skill of my old grandfather.