Our “Band of Brothers”
When I reached my college years I developed a friendship with a group
of guys with which I did a lot of partying, girl chasing, playing softball,
story swapping, and just plain hanging out with each other and having fun.
After I graduated college I lost touch with most except a few.
It’s funny how those relationships you are in at that time of your life
seem very important, but yet it is easy to lose the closeness over the
passing of time. I was never in the armed services but I can relate to
the “Band of Brothers” one makes with a group of guys that one associated
with at that time in our lives. Anyway, you’re probably saying, “Where’s
he going with this?” and so I’ll tell you.
After college I took a job with a company called Sperry (now Honeywell) and
moved to Phoenix. One of my buddies, Rick, moved to Phoenix about a year
after I did. Rick and I have hunted together for almost two decades in
Arizona and have had a lot of good times. Some of you may have read my
stories and Rick is usually mentioned in them.
Rick has always been the glue for our “Band of Brothers.” He kept in
touch with some of the guys throughout the years, of which those kept
in touch with others. Well a couple years back some of us got together
and did a pheasant and deer hunt in our home state of South Dakota that
kind of started the ball rolling. Ever since we have been trying to put
together some sort of reunion hunt each year, which at least gets some
of us together.
This year would be our second outing of HAM season javelina hunting in
Arizona and a gathering of our little “Band of Brothers”. The guys like
it because it gets some of them out of the cold climates in the middle of
winter and we can all get together and enjoy each others’ company. It is
almost like we are young men again, swapping stories, playing cards,
throwing horseshoes, ATV riding … oh, and of course hunting.
Everyone arrived in Phoenix two days before the hunt so that gave us time
to set up camp for the group the day before the hunt. Not an easy task
when your talking about 10-12 guys. Dion, from Minneapolis, actually
arrived earlier in the week to help the local guys out with groceries and
other camping logistics. The menu this year included George’s famous
spaghetti, a couple of deep fat fried turkeys with all the fixins, caribou
stew, with deer sausage and javelina chorizo for breakfast. Make’s me
hungry just thinking about it.
Opening day arrived and we all piled out of camp ready to go hunting little
piggies. We broke up into groups the size of two or three to spread out
and find the herd we normally hunt. Big Mike R. and I went to an area where
I had seen them the weekend before with my daughter on the youth hunt. She
was unsuccessful but we still had a lot of fun. At about 8:00 AM, Mike and
I located the piggies or should I say they located us. There was no wind
and the desert was very noisy. Needless to say we spooked them and they
trotted off about 100 yards or so. I kept an eye on them and told Mike to
make a stalk and I would go around and try and get ahead of them. They
crossed a wash and Mike went after them. I circled around but stayed on
our side of the wash. Finally I climbed up on a huge boulder to try and
get a vantage point to spot them.
Eventually I heard some shots and Mike had gotten into them. I didn’t see
anything scurry my way so I assumed they went the other direction. I held
tight for about 45 minutes, watching and listening for pigs.
Eventually I spotted Mike and he came back to where I was sitting. He said
he hit one and found a blood trail but that it went into some very thick
brush on a steep side hill and he lost track of it. I told him to rest a
bit and we’ll both go looking for it.
Mike hadn’t been there 10 minutes when I heard some rustling in the brush
across the wash from us. Out popped a piggy, I swung around the Lone Eagle
with my arms resting on my knees. I guessed the distance at about 75 yards,
took aim, and shot. Down he went. He got up and staggered a couple of
yards then I lost sight of him in the brush.
I got down off the boulder, crossed the wash and went looking for him. I
found him dead about 10 yds from where I shot him. I called out to Mike to
have him come over and help me with the red work.
When we were finished we went to try and find the pig Mike hit. He took me
to the spot where he first found blood and we trailed it from there. We came
to a spot with a large loss of blood. I told Mike the animal has to be near,
and probably dead, as that was a lot of blood loss.
We went about 15 yards further and kicked the pig out of bed in the thick
brush Mike had talked about. I saw the red spot on its side. Mike had gut
shot it. After a couple hundred yards of chasing it, and a few shots, we
lost it again.
By this time Rick, Dion, and Gene had caught up with us and helped us track
it. Dion found it in some thick brush and Mike finished it off. We packed
both pigs back to camp and enjoyed lunch and played some horseshoes in the
afternoon.
The next day we only saw a couple of pigs from another herd that we hunt,
but no one got shots. I went with Jason on the third day and eventually we
got right in the middle of a herd. It was very thick, so we waited for a
pig to come in the open. One eventually did and Jason got a couple of
shots at it. The herd scattered and Gene, Mike S. (We had three Mike’s
in camp), Dion, and Jason all got shots with no one connecting.
It was a flurry of activity and a lot of fun. Eventually the guys scattered,
each chasing pigs. No one got a pig that day but there were stories galore
to share by all.
It was another fun hunt with a couple successful hunters and everyone at
least getting shots. We’re all looking forward to the next reunion hunt
of our little “Band of Brothers.”
Father-Daughter Time
The week before the “Band of Brothers” hunt was the youth javelina season.
My daughter, Audrey, and I were all set to chase the piggies. She got a
couple of shots last year but without success. We were hoping this year
would be better. Opening day arrived and we left camp at first light to
try and find the desert ghosts. We hunted all morning with no success.
To make matters worse, the temperatures were climbing so they would be in
the brush and thus harder to find.
We had lunch in the field and I decided to wait them out. Audrey wasn’t
happy with staying out as she wanted to go back to camp with the other kids.
Camp was a couple of miles away and I didn’t want to hike back out here for
the afternoon hunt, as we had covered a fair amount of ground already. So
I convinced her to stay, and have patience, they’ll eventual show themselves
I told her.
It seems like there is a fine line in teaching a child to hunt and yet not
over-doing it to where they don’t want to go. I was hoping I wasn’t heading
toward the latter.
During the afternoon we moved from spot to spot and did a lot of glassing
with no success. Toward evening I eventually spotted one. I think someone
above was watching out for me, as Audrey forgot all about her dad keeping
her out all day in the field.
We were positioned on the side of a hill with a vantage point for glassing,
but the pigs were on the other side of a large wash which we would need to
cross to get in front of them. We crossed the wash and climbed up the other
side where we were hoping they would be. Bummer… no piggies
We were now down low and thus didn’t have any height advantage for spotting
the buggers. Eventually Audrey spotted one, then another; however she
couldn’t get a clear shot. They crossed the wash and went up on the side
hill where we were originally. Damned if they didn’t go to about 10 yards
from the very place we were sitting when we first spotted them.
They were once again in the thick stuff so I told Audrey that she was going
to have to take a long shot. We got her set up and watched for one to come
out of the cover.
Eventually one came out and she took a shot. Missed … shot went low. This
stirred up the piggies and another came out. Again she shot but I didn’t
see the dust. It sounded like a possible hit but we weren’t sure. Audrey
thought she got him, I wasn’t so sure.
So we went looking for blood. We didn’t find blood so I told her, we’ll
just hang out here awhile, as I’ve seen too many times where the pigs get
split up and eventually one or two come back.
Sure enough after about 15 minutes, here come four of them. They were
below us walking. The sun was already setting so I told Audrey you’re only
going to get one more chance today. She steadied herself on a rock and took
a shot … miss. They ran into the brush. We would have to wait till the
next day.
Well the next day came and the day after that with no success, we saw pigs
but just couldn’t get into position on them. Audrey was disappointed but we
still had fun and hopefully another learning experience for my daughter to
pass along to her children.
