I wanted to share our recent javelina hunt with the members here. After several years of unsuccessfully applying for New Mexico javelina tags (my last hunt was in February 2006), four of us finally drew tags for this year’s hunt. Unfortunately, two of our party were unable to hunt, which left my dad and me to head out alone last Wednesday. After setting up camp, we hit the hills in search of collared peccaries and quail. We were in a new area, so it took a couple days to get dialed in.
We hadn’t seen any animals, but we’d seen enough sign to keep us interested in the area, and on Friday morning we located a herd of seven javelina. They were quite a ways off, which required a short drive to reposition ourselves for the final approach. We made the last ½-mile on foot and closed to within 90 yards of the feeding animals. Having had previous success using a javelina call, I was looking forward to repeating the rush of calling them in. Dad and I bushed up in a couple yuccas with our bows and I started calling. Much to my surprise, all but one of the javelina departed at a dead run! The one remaining javelina that expressed an interest in the call was convinced otherwise when it realized it was alone. It too left in a hurry. Shaking our heads, we stashed our bows, grabbed my T/C Contender and tried to get into position for a shot with it. The javelina thought differently though, and were at least 300 yards away before we even caught another glimpse of them. Not to be deterred, I double-timed it back to the truck while Dad kept on eye on the rapidly departing critters.
I picked up Dad, who reported that the javelina had cleared several ridges and were still widening the gap between us and them. Luckily, they were moving roughly parallel the road we now found ourselves on, so we continued on for another mile or so before ditching the truck and striking out on foot with the hope that we could cut them off. We had exchanged the bows for the Contender and the AR at this point. We trotted down a ridge that should have put us in front of them, but discovered, much to our dismay, that we were actually behind them. We arrived in time to see the last dark shape drift through the greasewood on the next ridge over. We hastily took up pursuit, finally catching them on the third ridge long enough for Dad to get off a shot with the AR. The javelina was hit, but not down. We raced to the hilltop in time to see him struggling over the next ridge. Fearing a marginal hit, we relaxed a while and discussed our strategy. While inspecting the adjacent rise, we noted a road crossing it just below the point the javelina had gone over. We hiked back to the truck and drove over to that point. Shortly after leaving the truck we cut tracks and blood sign. There was very little of the latter, but we managed to follow the javelina’s prints in the sandy desert soil until we located our fallen prey in a shallow ravine. Dad’s success was a series of firsts – his first javelina hunt, his first javelina, his first experience with an AR, and this particular AR’s first kill. /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/grinning-smiley-003.gif All in all, it was quite a morning, and Dad was very happy with his little prickly trophy.
We carted the little critter to the nearest scrubby tree, strung him up, and skinned and gutted him before placing him on ice. We spent the remainder of the day hiking and glassing for another peccary for me, but were not able to locate one.
Saturday afternoon I had to be home for my daughter’s birthday party, so we decided to pull up camp and hunt a bit closer to home on Saturday morning. We pulled out early, hit the road, and made it about halfway home before stashing Dad’s truck and camper. We then proceeded to another area we thought might hold javelina and/or quail. With little time, we focused mostly on glassing from high points into likely cover. At about 9:30, we spotted three javelina feeding far from the road. Because I was short on time, we decided to head right out. I grabbed the pistol and the AR, just to be ready for either shot opportunity (near or far). As we approached the javelina, we spotted another hunter also headed rapidly in their direction. Assuming he had also spotted them, I whistled to get his attention and we met up. He had not seen the javelina, but was happy to hear of them and eagerly agreed to join up for a stalk to see if we could each tag one of the javelina. We made our approach to within 120 yards or so and got set up, each with a rifle. We decided to shoot simultaneously, so Dad gave the “1-2-3” count. Too bad for me, the AR misfired, then I jammed it in my rush to try for a shot. Our new friend wasn’t as unlucky, and he connected on a good javelina while the other nice-sized one bolted for heavier cover. Not wanting to see that javelina get away, my new best fried /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif handed me his rifle and told me to get after him. So I did. I ran, and ran, and ran… After what seemed like an eternity and ten miles (but was probably less than a mile), I had gained enough on the sprinting peccary to set up for a shot. I snuggled into the top of a perfectly sized yucca just as the javelina cleared some thick brush. When he paused for a look back, I sent a bullet on its way. Though it was a long shot with an unknown rifle, I connected and was rewarded with this nice boar.
After pictures and field dressing, Dad cut a yucca stalk that we used to carry the javelina luau-style back to the truck, which was now nearly two miles away. We quickly pulled the hide off and laid the javelina to rest comfortably on a bed of ice. We loaded up, headed out, and I snuck back into Cruces just in time to take a shower (a definite requirement after packing a javelina through the desert in 70 degree weather) before heading to the pizza party.
That evening my buddy Mike called to tell me he had rescheduled some stuff and would be able to join us for Sunday’s hunt. Though Dad and I had already filled out, we volunteered to go along and see if we could help spot a javelina or find some quail. We headed out to another new area and were glassing for javelina as the sun came up. We glassed a lot of country, took some short hikes, and drove through a lot of desert looking for sign. Late in the afternoon we finally struck upon an area with notable javelina sign, and we settled in for some more glassing. At about 4:00 I spotted a lone javelina amongst the scrub junipers on a distant hillside. We hastily made plans for a stalk and Mike and I struck out. It was quite a hike to the faraway hill, but we made in there in short order and slowed to a crawl as we glassed for the javelina. We finally spotted five javelina, much further up the hill than when we had originally seen the loner. We had to circle a bit to get the wind right, then continued our stalk towards them. Before we got into range, they peccaries fed over the hill and out of sight. We hurried to the top of the ridge where we’d last seen them, then started slowly creeping through the tall grass and scattered junipers on high alert. After several hundred yards, I heard a strange noise and froze. I scanned the habitat bit by bit, and finally managed to locate the source of the chirp/grunt/squeal sound – a baby javelina gorging itself on a prickly pear cactus. I snapped my fingers to get Mike’s attention and directed him to the javelina with hand signals. He was slightly further away than me, which is to say he was about 50 yards instead of 25! He waited until one of the larger javelina was clear of the group, then fired one fatal shot at this javelina.
We again relied on a trusty yucca stalk to tote the javelina back to the truck and arrived just as darkness was setting in for good.
It was a wonderful week of hunting, that’s for sure. We saw several firsts, and I learned a lot about javelina and javelina hunting over the five days spent chasing them. Two lessons are most vivid – never underestimate the importance of good glass, and despite common sense that says otherwise, if you try hard enough you can outrun a javelina. /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif
We hadn’t seen any animals, but we’d seen enough sign to keep us interested in the area, and on Friday morning we located a herd of seven javelina. They were quite a ways off, which required a short drive to reposition ourselves for the final approach. We made the last ½-mile on foot and closed to within 90 yards of the feeding animals. Having had previous success using a javelina call, I was looking forward to repeating the rush of calling them in. Dad and I bushed up in a couple yuccas with our bows and I started calling. Much to my surprise, all but one of the javelina departed at a dead run! The one remaining javelina that expressed an interest in the call was convinced otherwise when it realized it was alone. It too left in a hurry. Shaking our heads, we stashed our bows, grabbed my T/C Contender and tried to get into position for a shot with it. The javelina thought differently though, and were at least 300 yards away before we even caught another glimpse of them. Not to be deterred, I double-timed it back to the truck while Dad kept on eye on the rapidly departing critters.
I picked up Dad, who reported that the javelina had cleared several ridges and were still widening the gap between us and them. Luckily, they were moving roughly parallel the road we now found ourselves on, so we continued on for another mile or so before ditching the truck and striking out on foot with the hope that we could cut them off. We had exchanged the bows for the Contender and the AR at this point. We trotted down a ridge that should have put us in front of them, but discovered, much to our dismay, that we were actually behind them. We arrived in time to see the last dark shape drift through the greasewood on the next ridge over. We hastily took up pursuit, finally catching them on the third ridge long enough for Dad to get off a shot with the AR. The javelina was hit, but not down. We raced to the hilltop in time to see him struggling over the next ridge. Fearing a marginal hit, we relaxed a while and discussed our strategy. While inspecting the adjacent rise, we noted a road crossing it just below the point the javelina had gone over. We hiked back to the truck and drove over to that point. Shortly after leaving the truck we cut tracks and blood sign. There was very little of the latter, but we managed to follow the javelina’s prints in the sandy desert soil until we located our fallen prey in a shallow ravine. Dad’s success was a series of firsts – his first javelina hunt, his first javelina, his first experience with an AR, and this particular AR’s first kill. /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/grinning-smiley-003.gif All in all, it was quite a morning, and Dad was very happy with his little prickly trophy.
We carted the little critter to the nearest scrubby tree, strung him up, and skinned and gutted him before placing him on ice. We spent the remainder of the day hiking and glassing for another peccary for me, but were not able to locate one.
Saturday afternoon I had to be home for my daughter’s birthday party, so we decided to pull up camp and hunt a bit closer to home on Saturday morning. We pulled out early, hit the road, and made it about halfway home before stashing Dad’s truck and camper. We then proceeded to another area we thought might hold javelina and/or quail. With little time, we focused mostly on glassing from high points into likely cover. At about 9:30, we spotted three javelina feeding far from the road. Because I was short on time, we decided to head right out. I grabbed the pistol and the AR, just to be ready for either shot opportunity (near or far). As we approached the javelina, we spotted another hunter also headed rapidly in their direction. Assuming he had also spotted them, I whistled to get his attention and we met up. He had not seen the javelina, but was happy to hear of them and eagerly agreed to join up for a stalk to see if we could each tag one of the javelina. We made our approach to within 120 yards or so and got set up, each with a rifle. We decided to shoot simultaneously, so Dad gave the “1-2-3” count. Too bad for me, the AR misfired, then I jammed it in my rush to try for a shot. Our new friend wasn’t as unlucky, and he connected on a good javelina while the other nice-sized one bolted for heavier cover. Not wanting to see that javelina get away, my new best fried /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif handed me his rifle and told me to get after him. So I did. I ran, and ran, and ran… After what seemed like an eternity and ten miles (but was probably less than a mile), I had gained enough on the sprinting peccary to set up for a shot. I snuggled into the top of a perfectly sized yucca just as the javelina cleared some thick brush. When he paused for a look back, I sent a bullet on its way. Though it was a long shot with an unknown rifle, I connected and was rewarded with this nice boar.
After pictures and field dressing, Dad cut a yucca stalk that we used to carry the javelina luau-style back to the truck, which was now nearly two miles away. We quickly pulled the hide off and laid the javelina to rest comfortably on a bed of ice. We loaded up, headed out, and I snuck back into Cruces just in time to take a shower (a definite requirement after packing a javelina through the desert in 70 degree weather) before heading to the pizza party.
That evening my buddy Mike called to tell me he had rescheduled some stuff and would be able to join us for Sunday’s hunt. Though Dad and I had already filled out, we volunteered to go along and see if we could help spot a javelina or find some quail. We headed out to another new area and were glassing for javelina as the sun came up. We glassed a lot of country, took some short hikes, and drove through a lot of desert looking for sign. Late in the afternoon we finally struck upon an area with notable javelina sign, and we settled in for some more glassing. At about 4:00 I spotted a lone javelina amongst the scrub junipers on a distant hillside. We hastily made plans for a stalk and Mike and I struck out. It was quite a hike to the faraway hill, but we made in there in short order and slowed to a crawl as we glassed for the javelina. We finally spotted five javelina, much further up the hill than when we had originally seen the loner. We had to circle a bit to get the wind right, then continued our stalk towards them. Before we got into range, they peccaries fed over the hill and out of sight. We hurried to the top of the ridge where we’d last seen them, then started slowly creeping through the tall grass and scattered junipers on high alert. After several hundred yards, I heard a strange noise and froze. I scanned the habitat bit by bit, and finally managed to locate the source of the chirp/grunt/squeal sound – a baby javelina gorging itself on a prickly pear cactus. I snapped my fingers to get Mike’s attention and directed him to the javelina with hand signals. He was slightly further away than me, which is to say he was about 50 yards instead of 25! He waited until one of the larger javelina was clear of the group, then fired one fatal shot at this javelina.
We again relied on a trusty yucca stalk to tote the javelina back to the truck and arrived just as darkness was setting in for good.
It was a wonderful week of hunting, that’s for sure. We saw several firsts, and I learned a lot about javelina and javelina hunting over the five days spent chasing them. Two lessons are most vivid – never underestimate the importance of good glass, and despite common sense that says otherwise, if you try hard enough you can outrun a javelina. /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif
