I spent a few days in southern Arizona with my good buddy Austin and a few of his friends from Idaho chasing coues deer and javelina. The guys had been down there for the week, and I caught up with them for the tail end of their stay. It didn’t take but a few minutes over a cup of coffee to become fast friends with Blake and Chad.

It’s cliche to say, but the next few days were less about the hunt and more about time in the field with good friends. We spent the next couple of days doing more laughing and telling stories than actual hunting. In the times that we did spend glassing hillsides we found a few herds of pigs and were able to connect on a couple of javelina.

The few days I spent in the field flew by and before I knew it, I was packing up my gear and pointing the truck north to home. When it’s all said and done, I came home with a few physical objects: a cooler full of meat for my family, a skull for the bookshelf, and a handful of pictures. But ultimately, I left with something greater: A couple new hunting buddies and the memories of a successful hunt.

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While gulping a cup of coffee, I scrawled a note to my wife and kids telling them I was planning on morning javelina hunting. Little did I know as I threw my pack and bow into the truck, that it would turn into a full day hunt. I met up with a few buddies and spent the morning glassing the sunny slopes in search of pigs. When we finally found them, they were a good mile and half hike away, but after formulating a game plan, we made our way over to them working in to about a 100 yards. From there, we silently made our final stalk into a big herd of javelina, where at 6 yards, my arrow found it’s mark. When the dust settled, my friend David and I had been able to harvest pigs.

The sun was already headed deep into the western sky by the time we shouldered our heavy packs and started to make our way back to the truck. It turned into a long day in the field, but it was a good day javelina hunting with friends that I won’t soon forget.

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I drew a javelina tag this year and was very excited about heading up north to try and seal the deal. In the two and a half days of hunting, the wind gusted through the whole thing. We were able to get on a small herd the last day I hunted, but we couldn’t beat the wind. Although I had grand intentions of getting back up to camp, my schedule just would not allow it. There is nothing like javelina camp. Cold nights, good food, and good company.

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Well, I didn’t have very high hopes for this season, hunting in a unit that I did not really know too well. Blowing my one opportunity at a pig early in the season was probably not a good place to start either. I hunted one more time this past Saturday in the hope of finding a herd, but the rolling hills and canyons provided the shelter that these javlelina were looking for. Looking at the calendar and weighing the pros and cons of trying to squeeze one more day in makes me think that Saturday was probably the last day in the field for me.

I could be cliche and say that any day in the field is a good day, but there is that nagging thought in the back of my mind telling me I should have been done a week and half ago, if I had been a little bit smarter on my stalk. No matter, I have a couple of hours free this afternoon. I just might dust off the fly rod and chase some carp.

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The morning sun was just starting to lighten the sky as I tiptoed to the top of the bluff where I was going to set up and glass the surrounding hills. I moved from rock to rock and quietly stood at the very top and was about to put down my bow and pack when I heard movement. As I peaked over the edge of the ledge I was sitting on, I could see a small herd of javelina feeding through the brush. Grunting and browsing through the brush, I slipped down behind them and followed them as the moved through the brush with the wind in their face.

For the next hour and a half, I stalked the herd as they moved over the next couple of hills. I passed up several marginal shots in the 20-25 yard range while I waited for something a little bit closer. Something closer never came. Cactus and palo verde trees kept this little herd safe and before I knew it, one of them circled around and winded me. After the sound of pounding hooves subsided, I was left alone with the sound of the wind rustling through the dry desert.

The beauty of shooting a stickbow is that the hunt becomes very intimate and personal, with the hunter being forced to close the distance between himself and his quarry. No looking through a scope over hundreds of yards across a canyon. No sites to rely on. No triggers. Nothing mechanical. Being in that close on a herd of wild animals is truly a thing of beauty and even though I did not loose and arrow, I feel grateful to be a part of the desert and have a front row seat to viewing God’s creation.

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Although I did not get drawn for my go-to unit, I bought an over-the-counter javelina tag in a unit closer to town. While quail hunting there over the past couple of years, I have kicked up a couple of herds of pigs and figured I could get lucky. I put some miles under my feet and looked at a bunch of country but could not find the pigs that I know are there somewhere. I made it back to the truck around noon and decided to check out another area a little farther out of the way. Bumping along I heard the unmistakable hissing of escaping air which also deflated my spirit. After getting the spare squared away, I figured without cell service, continuing on would not be in my best interest. So I headed back to town to get my blown tire replaced with hopes of getting back into the field a little later this week. Hopefully, I can get these pigs figured out and get lucky enough to get an arrow off before I head back to school next week.

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Archery javelina season ended a three year long quest for one of these Arizona pigs and truth be told, my cold weather hunting gear was washed and put away. I have been focusing on staying close to home on the weekends and hunting Gambel’s quail and thinking about maybe trying out my new three weight reel. Instead, I was offered an opportunity to go up and help Austin’s cousin on his first bigger game hunt. Arizona Game and Fish has a great juniors program set up in order to get younger blood into the field and give them a decent chance at harvesting an animal. For example, archers usually get two or three weeks of hunting, followed by juniors, then HAM, then rifle. In my opinion, it’s fairly advantageous to take up archery and get out before the majority of the other hunters start driving the roads. The juniors hunt is extremely beneficial too as it gets the kids into the field before the game is too spooked, and I was looking forward to helping Haden bag his first javelina.

Uncle Don and Haden were already camped and had put in a hard day of hunting without seeing any javelina. So Austin and I dragged ourselves two and a half hours to their camp to offer our eyes for Saturday, before coming back home later that night. (It is the playoffs after all.) A quick strategy was arranged and we split into two groups in order to glass more country and try and catch a herd coming out to feed in the morning sunlight.

After glassing for a half hour or so, I hear a tremendous sigh and Austin say, “There aren’t any pigs here, let’s take off.”

On any normal day, it would usually be me saying this. Being relatively new to the west, the concept of staring through binoculars for hours on end can become tedious and boring. Over the past several seasons, I would like to think that I have become a little more patient and experienced.

“Hold off. 15 more minutes.”

I can’t believe the words were actually coming out of my mouth, but sure enough, a minute later, I pick of the distinct movement of javelina feeding their way through a patch of prickly pear. Austin raced off to find Don and Haden, and before long Don and Haden had stalked their way into 40 yards of the herd undetected. Within moments, Haden put a perfectly placed shot behind the front shoulder of a nice looking javelina. The entire scene unfolded through the lenses of my binoculars and was truly awesome to watch. Whopping and hollering could be heard echoing across the valley as we realized Haden had been successful. Photographed, field dressed, and tagged, Haden was carrying out his first pig by 10:30. Not to shabby for a Saturday morning.

It was rewarding experience to go up and help Haden hunt javelina and being a part of his success will always be a cherished memory. I think it is an important to pass along the tradition of hunting in respect to American conservation and ultimately family values and respect for God’s creation. Some of my best memories as a young man are walking through the woods with my dad and brothers looking at and learning all that the natural world has to offer. I think it is for this reason that I get so much joy from taking up a fly rod, bow, or gun and getting into the big country of Arizona and taking advantage of everything it has offer.

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It felt as if I had just fallen asleep from our New Years celebration, when my alarm told me to pull my aching body from bed. Most of my gear had been sorted and packed the day before, so once the coffee was made and the truck was loaded, I drove to meet my good friend Austin and head up to the high country in search of Arizona’s javelina.  Javelina are a strange animal by all accounts and everyone has a different description of what type of animal they actually are, but for all practical purposes, they look like a hairy pig. Most of their lives are spent in a herd and can be found rooting around the cactus filled hillsides of Arizona. The best time to glass up these animals is during the morning or evenings when the javelina are in search of the warm sun to heat their bodies. After setting up camp and gathering firewood for a cold evening, we geared up and spent the rest of our afternoon until dark hunkered down behind the lenses of our binoculars searching for their little camouflaged bodies, but to no avail. As the sun went down, the temperatures plummeted. Most years, evening temps stay in the low 30s, but an unusual cold snap kept our nighttime temp in the teens which can make for a long night in a tent.

Morning came quickly and we wasted no time in brewing coffee and putting on the extra layers to combat the freezing temperatures.  Once we were situated and glassing the surrounding hills, Austin wasted no time in spotting a herd slowly working their way across the hillside. A plan was hatched, wind calculated, obstructions noted and we made our way slowly and somewhat quietly through the prickly southwestern foliage. Over and over again, we would stop and check our progress and each time doubts would creep into my mind about our plan and its execution, but in our final approach, my ears heard the unmistakable sound of rooting javelina slowly working towards us.

With patience and persistence, both of us were able to work into a position for shots and I was able to find a quartering away pass through shot on a mid-size boar. Mortally wounded he made his way a dozen yards away and expired. Austin also placed a quality shot on another male who put up a tough fight until another arrow put him down for good.  As we posed for a self timed picture, it really began to sink in that this truly was an amazing experience to double up on javelina out of the same herd on the second day of the season.

Camp was broken quickly and meat, hides, and skulls were carefully packed away. Rumbling our way out of the back country, it is tough not to be thankful for such a quality hunt. The last two years had seen probably 15-20 days in the field searching for these little buggers and I was unable to connect even though the opportunities were there.  So the completion of a hunt and goal is extremely rewarding. Phone calls were made and the wives are happy we will not be “wasting” any more weekends on pig hunting, at least until we get tags again and can go back and wander around Arizona.

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REPORT TO FOLLOW…

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The score remains: Javelina – 2 Me – 0. Last year was my first year hunting javelina. Since moving to the Arizona, I have had a crash course in western big-country hunting. My experience hunting as a kid revolved around patterning deer and hunting well traveled trails from corn fields to bedding areas. In Arizona, glassing large portions of land searching for specks of color to move has been difficult to get the hang of but these past two years have taught me much. Saturday morning was overcast and windy and the sun never broke through the clouds as Travis and I glassed across a canyon searching for any sign of life. I had made my grid-like sweeps of the hills before me and was getting ready to move to a new vantage point when I caught a fat pig moving from under a tree into the open. Calling Travis over, we rechecked the location of the herd, found some landmarks, and planned the long trek across the canyon. Somewhere along the journey, we lost the herd and were never able to find them again. Mid-day was spent setting up camp and the evening produced nothing other than a few female deer feeding in the fading sun.

The final morning of the hunt was clear and cold, but we did not have to sit long. Within minutes of setting up tripods and getting comfy, I spotted a herd moving slowly through the prickly pear. Wind was gauged and hopes were high, but as I picked my way through the maze of cat claw and saguaros, the herd vanished. After regrouping, I learned I had spooked the herd and we climbed to another bluff to relocate them. Amazingly, they were spotted not 60 yards away browsing. They could not have picked a worse spot as they were smack dab in the middle of loose large rocks which made unimaginable noise no matter how slow a hunter moves. Halfway to them, a covey of 50 quail flushed and not long after what remained of the javelina herd could be seen running into the next county. So ends the tail of three weekends of javelina hunting. I cannot complain about the chances I had and blew. Each day out is a new experience filled with God’s beautiful creation with many lessons to learn. Next year will bring another javelina season and maybe I will have a chance to redeem myself…

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