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S P O R T I N G C L A S S I C S 1 3 1 F or a week Chuck and I stayed at the Gilchrist Club, hunting hogs at first light, then heading off for quail during the day before returning to the thickets for hogs in the evenings. And the thread that tied it all together was Randy Ransom and his son, and especially the dogs they had so lovingly and expertly trained. Cur or setter, pointer or Lab, I learned just what can be accomplished when you combine the finest men, the finest dogs and the finest habitat into one well-tuned experience. The bird hunting was some of the most enthralling I have ever encountered. But surprisingly, a growing passion for hunting wild hogs continued to well up inside me, for after losing that big hog on the first night, the fire continued to smolder and build, until it became just as important to Senior and Junior that I get a hog as it was for me. w e finally found them a half-hour after sunrise on our last morning, along an old canal near Bear Bay. How Junior ever spotted them as we eased through the dense woods remains a mystery to this day. But spot them he did. They were a hundred yards or more away, atop a thick palmetto hammock. At first they were just a few random specs of cold, hard black in the warm shearing light of dawn, and it took me a moment to spot them for myself. When we began moving on them, I fell in directly behind Junior to minimize our profile, carrying the old Marlin backward, low and in line with Junior and the hogs, its muzzle pointed straight behind us for safety. When we could advance no farther, I eased up beside Junior and raised my rifle to my shoulder. There must have been a dozen hogs or more milling about in the thick palmettos, with one big boar out along the far edge of the herd. Then suddenly, an even larger hog appeared, stage left, moving into the crosshairs of my scope . . . but he, too, was mostly obscured by the dense ground cover. Then a single black form stepped forward into a narrow opening between two big sweetgums, a perfectly proportioned meat sow, open and clear and quartering away. There were no other hogs in front of or behind her, and knowing that I may not get a better, more open shot than this, I slipped the 200-grain Hornady bullet into the back of her ribs. It angled forward through her chest with devastating effect and exited her opposite side at the base of her neck. She dropped in her tracks. By the time I racked another round into the chamber, the rest of the herd had disappeared. We were halfway up the hammock before we spotted her lying motionless in the leaves. We shot a few obligatory photos and then dragged her out to the truck, and I do believe the Ransom men were even happier for me than I was for them. They had worked extremely hard to put me onto these hogs, and for that, I am forever grateful. But the part I remember most is working through a dark Florida thicket a few nights earlier. And how good that old elk knife felt in my hand. GeAR ReVIew Enhancing our bird-shooting experience at Gilchrist was the opportunity to field-test a pair of 20-gauge Browning Citori 725 Field models. The new 725 Field has the same rugged, full-width hinge pin and tapered locking bolt design found in all Citori 725s. But unique to the Field is a rounded forearm with a subtle palm rest that is both comfortable and stylish. Other special features include ivory front and mid-bead sights, accented, high-relief engraving, low-profile receiver with silver nitride finish, and a Grade II/III walnut stock designed with a close radius pistol grip. For more about these excellent new shotguns, visit www.browning.com. IF YOu wANT TO GO Located in northwestern Florida just north of Trenton, the Gilchrist Club is legendary as a full-service hunting, fishing, and corporate destination. Visit www.GilchristClub.com, or call 352-463-7070.