Since my older son Ben turned 10, old enough to hunt big game in Arizona,
I've been hunting the spring rifle javelina seasons with him. But Ben is
now going to school at NAU in Flagstaff, so my javelina hunts with Ben have
ended for now.
My younger son Sam chose ASU for college. He lives on campus in the dorms
during the week, but he comes home every weekend. Even though it is tough
for Sam to take weekdays off for a hunt while school is in session, he can
at least do a weekend. So for now, Sam is my primary javelina hunting buddy.
The weekend limitation also means that hunts out to the far-flung corners
of the state are out of consideration as well. Travel time would eat too
much into the short time budget.
As the deadline to apply for the 2013 spring javelina hunt approached, I
tossed out some options to Sam. I said, "Well how about Unit 22? We could
camp at Bartlett Lake and take the canoe across."
I guess that sparked the adventurous spirit in him. He said, "That sounds
cool." But he wanted to hunt the HAM (Handgun, Archery, Muzzleloader) season,
not the General (rifle) season for even a little more challenge. So Unit 22,
HAM went down on the application as our first choice, and that's the hunt that
we got.
When the draw results came out, I exchanged info with Gerhard as I usually
do, and learned that he and his application-mates had drawn unit 21. I
mentioned our plan to camp at Bartlett and canoe across. That got our gears
turning, and soon we decided to camp together. Gerhard, his work friend Daniel,
Wade, and Mike Stimens would hunt the west shore, while Sam and I would cross
over by canoe to hunt the east shore. Mike's Dad, David would also make camp
with us to ferry hunters up-lake by motorboat. Mike's brother Jon would also
join the camp.
I arrived at the lake first on opening day, as the Unit 21 crew elected to
hunt their territory on the way to the lake. They would arrive at camp in
the evening. Sam had school so he would also join us later that evening. As
I drove in, I found a great spot for our large contingent. It was directly
opposite the area that I had planned to hunt. That would make for the shortest
canoe ride across the lake.
I unpacked the truck and pitched camp for Sam and I. Just as I was finishing,
Mike Stimens drove in pulling the Stimens Family pop-up tent trailer. Ok!
Camp is starting to come together!
It was somewhere around noon now. After a quick lunch I hopped into the boat
to begin my hunt! I had visited the east shore of Bartlett a couple of times
in years past. The last time I was here was in 2007 when Ben and I had hiked
up to SB Mountain. On our way back to the boat we had found ourselves
surrounded by javelina. Unknowingly, we had walked into the middle of a herd!
Several of them were within easy handgun range for a number of minutes. I was
hoping that Sam and I would find ourselves in just such a situation.
By mid afternoon I had found an excellent vantage point from which a lot of
the surrounding country could be glassed. I was high on the slope of a hill
looking north across a wide valley. But better still, there were a bunch of
flat rocks around me that were around 8 inches thick. I stacked three such
flat rocks which made for a comfortable little stool. Thinking about Sam
who would join me out here the next day, I gathered up three more such rocks
and built a second seat about ten feet away.
As the sun receded in the west, I had seen some tracks but no fur. I started
my hike back to the boat. When I had pulled the boat up onto the shore at
camp, Mike was nowhere to be found. No one else had arrived at camp yet
either. I checked my cell phone - no signal. I expected Sam to have arrived
by sunset, but he wasn’t here.
After a few minutes, Mike did arrive. He mentioned that the other Unit 21
hunters had come past but had driven further up the lakeshore to hunt. But
they would be joining us soon.
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Tools of
the Trade
Early on, Sam decided that he was going to try bow hunting for the
first time. Knowing that the Stimens’ are avid bow hunters, he
turned to them for advice. David had offered Sam the use of any
equipment that he needed, a bow, arrows, release, etc. Sam went
out and got himself an archery target so that he could practice in
the back yard. We have about 20 yards of room in the back yard.
Eventually he reached good confidence in being able to put his
arrow where he wanted to out to 15 yards. Longer distances were
still iffy. But he figured that was good enough, because you can
frequently get that close to javelina.
But just in case, Dad encouraged him to practice up with the .357
Taurus Tracker as well. That’s what he shot in the recent Handgun
Hunter’s Challenge club event. He was confident about being able
to make killing shots with the Taurus at least twice as far as he
could with the bow.
As for myself, I am still highly in love with that little Smith &
Wesson Model 632 in .327 Federal Magnum that I wrote about not too
long ago. I said that it was powerful and accurate enough to take
after javelina, and it was my intention to prove it! I used this
revolver in the Handgun Hunter’s Challenge event and that experience
left me feeling confident out to at least 25 yards. I decided to use
the handload that I had cooked up that fired the 100 grain Hornady
XTP at around 1400 fps.
But just in case, I packed the Lone Eagle single shot handgun in my
pack. I have two Lone Eagle barreled actions. I chose to use the
.260 Remington on this hunt instead of the .44 Mag. My pig load
would be the 100 grain Nosler Ballistic Tip over 37.0 grains of
IMR4064 powder. This mid-pressure load chronographs at around 2520
fps out the Eagle’s 14” barrel for a little over 1400 ft-lbs of energy.
The .260 is equipped with a Leupold 2-8x32 pistol scope. This gun,
with this scope, with this load, is extremely accurate. My realistic
reach with this rig is 200 yards, limited only by the steadiness of
the rest I can get in the field.
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But I was concerned about Sam’s absence. I thought that he had told me
that he would be done with classes in the early afternoon, so I expected
his arrival in the late afternoon. I decided to drive out as far as I
would need to get cell phone service. While I was driving out, I ran
into David Stimens who was heading in with his boat on a trailer. I
told him that Mike was just around the corner.
When I got to a high spot on the road, my phone connected to signal and
I was able to call Sam. I was relieved to hear that he was on his way.
So back to camp I go. Just a few minutes after I got back, the other
Unit 21 crew members came sliding into camp in three more vehicles.
Soon camp was bustling! More camping equipment came flying out of trucks,
tents were going up, and a fire was being built. And about an hour later,
Sam finally arrived. After dinner and some good conversation, we all hit
the sack.
The weather was going to be a factor on this hunt. Rain and cold fronts
were scheduled to be with us this weekend. Despite the patter of rain on
the tent most of the night, Sam and I slept well.
We were awakened by the hustle and bustle of the Unit 21 hunters who
had gotten up about a half-hour before we stepped out of our tent.
Despite that, they ended up motoring off up-lake just a couple of minutes
before we shoved off in our canoe. You should have seen that boat! It
was packed full of large camouflaged guys and it was riding a little low
in the water!
Our smaller and slower boat took about 15 to 20 minutes to cross the ½
mile width of Bartlett Lake. Our canoe is powered by electric trolling
motor, but we assisted the motor by paddling.
After pulling the canoe up onto the bank in unit 22, I led Sam directly
to the rock seats. It was about a half mile hike from the shore. We took
our time, diligently scanning our surroundings as we walked. You just
never know!
So we parked our butts on the rock seats and pulled out breakfast and
binoculars. It is our habit to just get up and get going in the morning.
We pack our breakfast in our packs the night before. We eat breakfast at
our first stop of the day about the time that our stomachs remind us that
we haven’t eaten yet. This usually happens about 7:30 to 8:00 am. A
bagel and a small bottle of apple juice is the usual fare. Maybe add to
that a small package of beef jerkey. That’s enough to hold us until noon.
The National Weather Service pegged the chances for rain today at 40%. I
interpret that to mean that it will rain for 40% of the day. That turned
out to be just about correct. Knowing the weather report, we wore our
camo rain jackets. Sam also had his camo Frogg Toggs rain pants in his
pack. I had packed a cheap and lightweight polyester poncho. We needed
that rain gear as we sat and scanned the hillsides. It rained on us off
and on throughout the entire day.
Around 10:30 am or so, the skies opened up with a hard hailstorm.
We just put up our rainhoods and hunkered down on our stone seats. Sam
had already put on his Frogg Toggs pants. I broke out the poncho and
just wrapped it over my legs over my cotton BDU pants. The hail only
lasted for about ten minutes, but it was an awesome sight to look out over
the valley and watch all that streaking hail.
In front of us were staghorn chollas. The hail balls bouncing off the
cholla branches reminded me of Pachinko balls as they bounced from one
branch to another to another.
Between the rain squalls, we could really appreciate the beauty of the
Sonoron desert back here. Yes, there were a few old shotgun shells on
the ground, but other than that and an old cowpuncher’s cabin, this
backcountry seemed largely untouched by man. We’ve had some good rain
in the last month, so everything was green and lush.
As noon came around, we pulled MREs out of our packs for lunch. The
MREs had chemical heaters, so that was a little bit of a deluxe touch to
actually be able to eat a warm meal out in the wild on this cold and
rainy day.
About an hour after lunch, we grew bored with sitting and glassing. We
decided to check out the saddle behind us. From there, we’d be able to
peek over to the other side to see some new country.
As we made our way toward the saddle, we passed an area of large jumbled
boulders. We noticed a multitude of javelina-sized trails amongst the
boulders. Under many of the boulders there were little caves. I pulled
the .327 out of its holster as Sam and I poked our noses into several of
the caves. This was a pretty exciting find, but alas nobody was home
right now.
When we reached the saddle, new vistas opened up to us. We sat and
glassed for awhile over this new valley. I had brought a varmint call
with me. I had always heard that javelina may come running at you if you
make an awful squealing racket on a varmint call. The story is that they
think it may be one of their young being attacked by a coyote. Well it
hasn’t worked for me yet. I tried it over the valley we were watching
this morning, and I tried it again here over this new valley. Nothing.
After about an hour in the saddle we headed back to our stone chairs.
But we didn’t last long back at the chairs. After another half hour we
grew bored again and decided to head down into the bottom of that first
valley for a walkabout.
We crossed over to the other side (the north side of the valley) and
walked this opposite slope. We ended up walking up the creek about another
½ to ¾ mile. We saw some deer tracks, and some smaller tracks that may
have been javelina, or might have been some small deer.
When we decided that we had gone far enough, we crossed back over the
creek at the bottom of the valley to get back on the south slopes. From
here, the plan was to get back to our chairs, and when darkness approached,
to head back to the canoe.
We were one side ridge short of getting back to our stone chairs when Sam
looked toward that hill that we were sitting on for most of the day, pointed
excitedly, and said, “There!”
Squinting over at the next hillside about 300 yards away, I was able to
make out two or three javelina. Sam said that he could see more. It looked
like they were moving with definite purpose toward a low saddle at the head
of a long draw that eventually ended at the lake.
We quickly made a plan to cut around to the right of the high point over
the saddle. Once we got to the ridge top, we would head to the high point
to try to intercept them as they went through the saddle.
We hustled down the slope on our side, then went to the right to gain the
ridgetop on the pigs’ ridge. But before ascending the hill, I stopped to
pull the Lone Eagle out of my pack. I attached the carrying sling and
slung it over my shoulder. I slipped a couple of .260 rounds into my
pocket for quick access. By the time I got to the ridge top, Sam had
already been to the high point. We were both too late to intercept the
pigs before they went through the saddle.
When I caught up with Sam, he told me that they had all gone down into the
brushy draw that leads to the lake. Since Sam had made the initial spot,
and since he had the short range weapon, I told him to take point. After
descending a short way into the draw, we decided to split up. Sam would
follow the bottom, while I stayed up on the edge. Before we split though,
I pointed to the orange cap on my head, then pointed to him and said,
“Orange?” I wanted to be sure that I didn’t lose sight of him down in the
brush. He put on his cap. We also turned on our FRS radios so that we
could keep in voice contact.
As we were going down the draw, he called me once on the radio and told me
that there were pigs about 30 yards in front of me at my level. Due to the
brush, I never saw the pigs as I continued forward.
At another point, I heard some hooves clattering on the rocks below me. I
still didn’t see anything! A few minutes later, I heard and spotted that
piggy running up the opposite slope about 80 yards away. I ran over to an
open spot, deployed shooting sticks, and plopped my butt down on the ground.
I aimed the Eagle at the spot where the pig had disappeared - a hole under
a large boulder with a bush in front of it.
In the meantime, Sam was still shaking out the bushes about 100 yards
further down-draw from me. He said that at one point he was able to laser
range a pig standing 40 yards from him. Unfortunately, this was out of
Sam’s sure kill distance with the bow.
After a few minutes of waiting for that piggy to come out of his hole, I
decided that he wasn’t going to. So I got up and continued dodging
staghorn cholla and brittlebrush, working my way further down the draw in
Sam’s direction.
I still wanted to use my .327 to take a pig, but to see the gunsights, I
need glasses these days. So I put them on. My hearing is going too, so I
brought along earplugs on a plastic hoop. Now imagine me trying to stalk
along with reading glasses hanging off my nose (so that I could look over
them to walk), and with earplugs stuffed in my ears. I was getting dizzy
from the alternating view through, then over the glasses, and the pounding
sound of my own heartbeat in my ears was all that I could hear!
I grew frustrated with that. I put the glasses back in my pocket. I
decided that the scoped Eagle was going to get the job assignment today.
But the Eagle has a muzzle brake! It’s loud! Nevertheless, I pulled out
the earplugs and left the plastic hoop dangling around my neck.
But it was getting late. We only had about 45 minutes of light left in the
day. Sam was most of the way down the draw, not too far from reaching its
end at the lake. I called Sam on the radio. “Sam, since it’s getting late,
I’m going to head back to the boat. I’ll come around and pick you up at the
bottom.”
Sam radioed back, “OK.” I started hiking back to the boat which was two
coves over, about a half mile away. But after I had hiked about 100 yards,
and could better see how far the boat would have to travel, I changed my
mind. That slow boat would leave Sam waiting for a long time.
I started heading back to Sam. I radioed my change of plan. I told him
just to start heading back toward me. I hiked down to the edge of the draw
so that he could see me.
But as I was waiting for him, I heard the clattering of hooves on rocks
below me. In a moment, two pigs appeared walking below me at a distance of
about 40 yards!
I tracked the lead pig with the crosshairs, but he kept moving until he got
behind a saguaro. So then I found the trailing pig in my scope. He stopped
short of the saguaro in a small opening. BLAM! The blast was heard in camp
across the lake. I had no chance to put my earplugs in, but for whatever
reason, my ears were not ringing. The pig dropped to the deck and started
kicking! But I could tell that he was going nowhere.
“Where are you shooting?”, Sam called on the radio. “I’ve got one down!”
Sam was worried about being in the line of fire. But I had seen Sam’s orange
head still over 100 yards from me and at about 90° from my line of fire.
The lead pig fled the scene and actually headed toward Sam. “One’s heading
your way,” I told him. Sam spotted him, but could not close on the pig
before he got away.
About ten minutes later, Sam joined me at my pig and helped me with the field
dressing. We were well prepared to haul pigs out of the backcountry. We had
thick game bags with us, and each of us had meat hauling packs. We put the
pig on Sam’s metal frame freighter, while I packed out Sam’s soft daypack in
my Eberlestock X2.
We came back to hunt the same area the next day, but this time Sam left the
bow behind and only carried the Taurus .357. We stayed in the same area the
whole day, but the herd didn’t reappear. We’ll be back next year.
