Season after season, our intentions to hunt together in Maremma had been shattered against the wall of commitments and unfortunate coincidences. This year finally Gigi confirms to me that he managed to free himself for the last weekend of January. The last one usually takes place at the end of the season for the “glorious” hunts, but it is often these great events that reserve bitter disappointments. Hoping to prove myself wrong, I gladly accept Gigi's invitation and I start to hear the teams to host my friend and fellow countryman.
A hunting weekend in Maremma could (hopefully) be an interesting testing ground to test his new perspective Leica Magnus 1-6.3 × 24 i, which has already given him some nice shots in the open spaces of some mountain turns. Having the good fortune to "reside" from the hunting point of view in Tuscany, I have often hosted friends not only from Calabria, but also from Veneto, Friuli, Trentino and, although the hunts in which they have participated have often been a success, rare sometimes it happened to them to shoot or at least meet the black beast, so little present in their territories. With Gigi, accustomed not only to encounters but also to happy slaughtering of wild boars, we are much less full of expectations and, perhaps, this will convince fate to be benign to us.
The hunt on Saturday, in the company of my team, ended with a nice game bag and, only at the end of the hunt, I come to discover with great satisfaction, that a beautiful sow has been stopped by Gigi with a few jabs. meters from his post, which for reasons related to the draw, had come a long way from mine.
On Sunday we are in the AFV Capalbiaccio. This territory is characterized by dense vegetation, where the typical Mediterranean scrub is particularly "strong" and the saracchio (commonly known as "sarracchio" seals the whole undergrowth from view, and where the animals are transformed into rustles and vibrations. This time the draw of the post offices sees us side by side. The posts are arranged very close together precisely because the shooting angle is limited to a few degrees. The joke shows itself from the very first actions very participatory and full of emotions and animals.
When, in this area, a wild boar approaches the post office, it is practically never seen. In local jargon it is said that "scortella" the stalls, slipping under the saracchio parallel to them without coming out into the open, and its presence can be understood from how the barrels of the rifles braced are raised in sequence and lowered in the same order, as a succession of waves of adrenaline that spreads to the echo of the barks of the Maremma wetsuits.
The second of the wild boars that arrives in front of the posts of the escarpment triggers the same sequence. The last rifle to raise its lethal barrel will once again be that of Gigi, equipped with his optic that in Maremma is living a second life made up of short-range shots as never before.
The hunt gets more and more alive, with numerous hoots that follow one another at a fast pace. You can hear all the hustle and bustle in the scrub where, far from the eyes of man, dogs and wild boars compete and face each other in an ancestral struggle. Sometimes some animals skip the line of the post office, and the more ready hunters aim at the trots behind them, on the opposite side of the toilet. But these shots are often poorly thought out and with poor results, and so on the radio someone makes fun of the pans that, numerous and often inviting, color the day and break the tension.
Another animal still comes very close to our post office. The ears make superhuman efforts to try to locate a presence that has no visual equivalent. Gigi is very concentrated. The boar jumps on the toilet, with a leap crosses it. With the last leap before disappearing into the scrub behind us he goes to meet the ball spat out by Gigi's rifle who, with this masterful shot, gives himself his third Maremma wild boar.
I remain admired but above all satisfied. Inviting someone always involves a pinch of anxiety and inconclusive jokes are a source of great bitterness and almost embarrassment for those who invite. Today it is a great joy for me, and these 3 wild boars, booty of a Maremma weekend, will certainly make Gigi satisfied but never as much as I am, precisely because, despite the organization and care, these are the typical gifts that cannot be decided nor guaranteed. And when fate grants them to us, it's a whole other story.
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