richardoutwest
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Arizona calls them a “big game species” rounding out the states Big 10, other states call them a “rodent”, either way you look at it, a formidable opponent for the archer or the first time hunter! SDHNTR coined them the Rodney Dangerfield of game animals, the one that gets no respect.
Little respect is right; these little critters are one of the most fun yet frustrating hunts one can hone their hunting skills on. The Houdini of the southwest desert, they will leave you scratching your head, disappearing right before you. They will leave the most achieved archers humbled toting an empty quiver and hanging their head.
Yes, it’s the Javelina. The salt and peppered, white collared “pig” that hunters will travel great distances for the chance to be humiliated in-front of their counterpart. Teasing and poking fun of each other is just part of the game, stalking these critters can be just as fun as the ribbing you will get coming back with a few bent broad-heads.
So what about rifle hunting them? Could a hunter still be humiliated and ashamed of their abilities with a rifle in hand? This year was no different than the rest, it got personal real quick! After all, I could not be humiliated by a pig in front of my kids, RIGHT!
Opening day of the juniors rifle hunt found us heading to familiar grounds where the Javelina is abundant. What a sight to see, three guides (Robert, Mackey and myself) with my wife (April) and kids (Wyatt 12 and Mariah 11) set up with hi-powered binoculars mounted on tripods, all the latest high-tech equipment known to man, around twelve grand worth, picking apart the Sonoran landscape.
A little overkill? Not a chance, this is after all, a Javelina hunt!
We had a five mile radius locked up, with seven known herds below us waiting to be discovered once again. After an hour of nada, we relocate to get a different angle of the same parcel of land. Just before dark, I spot a single pig. I gather all our hi-tech equipment and signal for Robert to come take part the harvest.
The problem is the pig is over a thousand yards away! I have always told the kids, “never run with a weapon”! I never said anything about a good brisk walk though. The pig of one now stands with six at about 150 yards. We have time for one shot, maybe two, yea right. Wyatt sets up prone and squeezes the trigger at a sure thing, only to miss high. The pigs run to the bottom of the draw right to us. Now at 60 yards a second shot may be possible. The cover was simply too thick and no follow up would be fired tonight.
Day two we are set up on another hill looking at the same ground. Within two minute of butts-down, pigs are located and the two kids and I are off. Mackey would have the honors to signal us in. After a long hike, the pigs burned us never to be seen again. Mackey signals us from the top of the hill that another herd was located.
Back to the top of the hill, the three of us are sucking the wind out of the canyons we just trekked across, and are unable to relocate the second herd. Feeling a little humbled, I save face and find another herd! Once again darkness is falling and the herd is a half a mile away.
We make it to the point that we felt the pigs would be intersecting. Apparently no-one told the pigs, we ease over the next ridge and find two pigs feeding on the adjacent side at 200 yards. Now at this point, I’m thinking bank! Little did I know that we were hunting the only herd in the southwest desert that have eyes! Picked off at even before we got set up, these critters are running. Did I say running?
This is starting to remind me a little bit of Caddy-Shack, I have literally ran about three miles in two days across the desert hills and the only thing that I have to show the kids for it, is the embarrassment. “Let’s go-game on”! We run to the next ridge line and ease to the top, yep there they are, running again a hundred yards out.
Dejected, I look at the kids eyes. Without saying a word, I knew what they were thinking. (some guide dad is!) Let’s go, and we run to the next ridge. Dads a little smarter this time, as I ease to the top with just my head showing and pear through the mesquites. There they are looking right at me at a hundred and fifty yards, no way, they start to take off and hide behind some scrub brush.
Still as mannequins, one makes the mistake of leaving the bottom of his left hind leg exposed. After careful directions, Wyatt sees the leg exposed on 20 power of the Leupold scope. Another five minutes of outlining the pig, it materializes for Wyatt to settle the cross-hairs. The crack of the Classic Winchester Pre 64 in 270 drops the damn little rodent in its tracks. Yep, no respect here, it’s a “a rodent’ today! Remember the personal part above.
Day three, same hill as the first, same arsenal! Robert spots a herd, Mariah is up and guess what, darkness is falling, again! Robert has the honors this time of signaling us in on the herd. Mackey and myself are trying to keep up with Mariah as she seems to be on a mission.
Our little recon patrol sets us up crawling to a finger that is 242 yards from our query. Mariah dumps the bi-pod legs and moves my Badlands 2200 under the rear on the rifle. Now it’s a waiting game of the herd bore turning sideways for a clear shot. The herd starts getting nervous from the wind and starts to move to the bottom of the draw out of sight. One big sow left, and Mariah opts for the shot drilling her in the mid shoulder.
Game over, the victor, the mucho take it easy dance and a happy camper! All it took was three guides, twelve grand in high tech equipment, and getting a little game face on.
That’s Javelina hunting, the crown jewel of the Sonoran southwest desert!
Little respect is right; these little critters are one of the most fun yet frustrating hunts one can hone their hunting skills on. The Houdini of the southwest desert, they will leave you scratching your head, disappearing right before you. They will leave the most achieved archers humbled toting an empty quiver and hanging their head.
Yes, it’s the Javelina. The salt and peppered, white collared “pig” that hunters will travel great distances for the chance to be humiliated in-front of their counterpart. Teasing and poking fun of each other is just part of the game, stalking these critters can be just as fun as the ribbing you will get coming back with a few bent broad-heads.
So what about rifle hunting them? Could a hunter still be humiliated and ashamed of their abilities with a rifle in hand? This year was no different than the rest, it got personal real quick! After all, I could not be humiliated by a pig in front of my kids, RIGHT!
Opening day of the juniors rifle hunt found us heading to familiar grounds where the Javelina is abundant. What a sight to see, three guides (Robert, Mackey and myself) with my wife (April) and kids (Wyatt 12 and Mariah 11) set up with hi-powered binoculars mounted on tripods, all the latest high-tech equipment known to man, around twelve grand worth, picking apart the Sonoran landscape.
A little overkill? Not a chance, this is after all, a Javelina hunt!
We had a five mile radius locked up, with seven known herds below us waiting to be discovered once again. After an hour of nada, we relocate to get a different angle of the same parcel of land. Just before dark, I spot a single pig. I gather all our hi-tech equipment and signal for Robert to come take part the harvest.
The problem is the pig is over a thousand yards away! I have always told the kids, “never run with a weapon”! I never said anything about a good brisk walk though. The pig of one now stands with six at about 150 yards. We have time for one shot, maybe two, yea right. Wyatt sets up prone and squeezes the trigger at a sure thing, only to miss high. The pigs run to the bottom of the draw right to us. Now at 60 yards a second shot may be possible. The cover was simply too thick and no follow up would be fired tonight.
Day two we are set up on another hill looking at the same ground. Within two minute of butts-down, pigs are located and the two kids and I are off. Mackey would have the honors to signal us in. After a long hike, the pigs burned us never to be seen again. Mackey signals us from the top of the hill that another herd was located.
Back to the top of the hill, the three of us are sucking the wind out of the canyons we just trekked across, and are unable to relocate the second herd. Feeling a little humbled, I save face and find another herd! Once again darkness is falling and the herd is a half a mile away.
We make it to the point that we felt the pigs would be intersecting. Apparently no-one told the pigs, we ease over the next ridge and find two pigs feeding on the adjacent side at 200 yards. Now at this point, I’m thinking bank! Little did I know that we were hunting the only herd in the southwest desert that have eyes! Picked off at even before we got set up, these critters are running. Did I say running?
This is starting to remind me a little bit of Caddy-Shack, I have literally ran about three miles in two days across the desert hills and the only thing that I have to show the kids for it, is the embarrassment. “Let’s go-game on”! We run to the next ridge line and ease to the top, yep there they are, running again a hundred yards out.
Dejected, I look at the kids eyes. Without saying a word, I knew what they were thinking. (some guide dad is!) Let’s go, and we run to the next ridge. Dads a little smarter this time, as I ease to the top with just my head showing and pear through the mesquites. There they are looking right at me at a hundred and fifty yards, no way, they start to take off and hide behind some scrub brush.
Still as mannequins, one makes the mistake of leaving the bottom of his left hind leg exposed. After careful directions, Wyatt sees the leg exposed on 20 power of the Leupold scope. Another five minutes of outlining the pig, it materializes for Wyatt to settle the cross-hairs. The crack of the Classic Winchester Pre 64 in 270 drops the damn little rodent in its tracks. Yep, no respect here, it’s a “a rodent’ today! Remember the personal part above.
Day three, same hill as the first, same arsenal! Robert spots a herd, Mariah is up and guess what, darkness is falling, again! Robert has the honors this time of signaling us in on the herd. Mackey and myself are trying to keep up with Mariah as she seems to be on a mission.
Our little recon patrol sets us up crawling to a finger that is 242 yards from our query. Mariah dumps the bi-pod legs and moves my Badlands 2200 under the rear on the rifle. Now it’s a waiting game of the herd bore turning sideways for a clear shot. The herd starts getting nervous from the wind and starts to move to the bottom of the draw out of sight. One big sow left, and Mariah opts for the shot drilling her in the mid shoulder.
Game over, the victor, the mucho take it easy dance and a happy camper! All it took was three guides, twelve grand in high tech equipment, and getting a little game face on.
That’s Javelina hunting, the crown jewel of the Sonoran southwest desert!
