La wild boar hunting you know, both in selection and in containment, it has an indisputable charm. Given the habits of the black beast, however, it can be said that this type of hunting often results in shots at far more than crepuscular times on little more than a black silhouette of which it is very difficult to distinguish sex and age classes. Hunting in a mountain context, as recently happened to me, opens up a whole series of sighting opportunities at much brighter times, setting up a hunt that is closer to that of chamois in the Alps area, with all the difficulties and emotions associated with it. . We are in May, at an altitude above 1000 m asl, with our friend Leo we have made an appointment for an afternoon outing. A violent night storm made the air crystalline and tense winds from the north east swept away the clouds and humidity, revealing the last tongues of snow on the highest peaks.
Our hunting area is located in a boundless plateau surrounded by rocky ridges to act as a proscenium, with rock jumps interspersed with grassy channels with some clearings. The wind that blows up here also slaps us and at the same time suggests that wild boars, like all wild animals in general, will not offer us many opportunities in the open and we will have to devise a strategy to undermine them in the points where they will get back into the wind.
With Leo we identify the quadrant less exposed to the gusts and park the off-road vehicle. After a quick sbinocolata we already identify the first animal. It is still 17.30 pm, practically there are no less than three hours to dusk, but in areas so pleasant and devoid of anthropization it is not uncommon to spot wild in broad daylight. We walk along the gully that leads to the wild boar, and approaching now there are two black silhouettes in the binoculars. In the throes of the most lively enthusiasm we proceed with our light feet on the scree, and despite our precautions a herd of horses in the wild gallop with a roar that leaves us speechless and with little hope of approaching our prey.
After a few minutes of pause to catch our breath we begin to go up the canal again: rocks and brooms interrupt the view in several points, we have the sensation of walking on eggs as we ascend towards the sighting point. Although Leo is a profound connoisseur of these places and we had fixed the point precisely from a distance, now that we are about 300m from the position everything seems more uncertain and vague. We sneak with the greed of someone who is sure to find something, but nothing. I take the thermal viewer and investigate the points of least visibility: one shape attracts my attention, then a second one, soon the details of the image confirm that it is a male and a female roe deer. The same at 300 meters on the right, always two roe deer. We could stand here waiting for the wild boar to get back on its feet, we are more than sure that it is back in some ravine not far from us. The wind blows favorably in our face but has become sharp and annoying. The feeling of cold is unpleasant and, added to the disappointment of not having found what we expected, pushes us to dare and advance further, aware of the fact that if the wild boar is put back in front of us we will destroy the exit, but time it is passing, the light is going down and we feel called to action.
We ascend again cautiously, and our stealthy advance is interrupted by the sound of a large animal on the run. A black spot appears fleeting to us and disappears before the sound of branches broken under its weight. The feeling of self-sabotage had been with us for a while but now it's a real stab. We don't have time to worry about the missed opportunity that an unspecified number of black dots attract our incredulous eyes right where we were at the beginning of the release. A herd of wild boars several hundred meters from us invites us to retrace all the road made up to here to undermine it. We quickly descend the debris and approach the designated point. Nothing. Laughter and anger alternate on our sweaty faces. With the thermal viewer we investigate inside the beech forest that surrounds the field. Nothing. We begin to probe the gullies that alternate along the ridge like folds of a skirt. Still nothing, dissolved. No trace of an entire herd. The light begins to weaken, the hope of a happy ending for this afternoon is fading. Once again, while the disappointment grows, a new image attracts our attention and upsets all expectations: three animals are standing there, just where half an hour and a lot of effort ago we were in the balance between waiting and the desire to track down the boar. What to do? Going back up there, now, is a crazy idea, but comparing ourselves quickly we understand we decided in unison to try.
Let's go, up the stony channel, with the tiredness that makes itself felt, the breath that gets shorter, the cold that is no longer felt and the euphoria mixed with the doubt and frustration of feeling at the mercy of the whims of the mountain. Halfway through a roar of hooves and bells reaches us from above, and shortly afterwards, while the noise becomes deafening, cows and calves in a cloud of dust come down from the high pastures like an avalanche to reach the plateau. Surprised and admired by the herd, we take advantage of the noise to progress towards the shapes we had seen from the opposite side. Once again, mute and bare rocks welcome us without keeping their shaggy promise. Even the thermal viewer is now silent, and the wind whipping the top seems to invite us to leave these places.
We return sadly in the direction of the car. Every now and then we stop to sbinocolare more for good luck than anything else. A glance with the observation viewer makes us jump: a few hundred meters from the car a huge and solitary patch seems to be waiting for us. The situation is grotesque, we spent hours chasing chimeras and now the showdown seems to have come. Given the incipient darkness it would be foolish to undermine this solengo but the favorable position induces us to try. The high-performance optics allows the engagement of the animal, Leo has all the time to study a safe support about 150 meters from the wild boar. A shot in the box leaves him little room for escape. The size and the powerful defenses of the boar repay us for all the effort and acrobatic acrobatics that its capture has cost us.
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