The never ending story - TXS06... Into the breach

[Scott G]

Looking forward to it Charlie.  I'd like to hear the whole story on that mean ass looking wooly hog you shot.

[Guru]

Heck yeah!!!!

[Charlie Lamb]

I think I've got this huntin thing down to a science... well, at least the traveling to the hunt part.    

It goes something like this... pack truck two weeks in advance, get on the road at least two days before I should, stop and mooch food from friends at least once a day until arrival.

The Texas sweat hunt started just like that for me this year.
Six hours down the road (I-44) from my house I stopped for the night at Travis Thomas' place.

Travis is a buddy from my warrior days in the '60's. We share a few stories or glory days, marvel at the fact that we both seem to have the same distant stare and he sends me off with well wishes and a care package.

After an early start (8 a.m early)I zipped on down into Texas were I stopped by to visit with Mike (Wingnut)Westvang and family.

Great visit there! Mike has a super nice shop where he produces his Windtalker bows.
I was given the grand tour and got to handle a few of his sweet longbows. Great bows!!

By the time I got away a had a couple of pieces of fine bamboo in the back of the truck and plans in my head for a couple of yew wood slats I've got sitting in the shop at home.

A few hours later I tucked into a motel for the night. Arrival time in Cuero, Texas and hooking up with Curtis (Littlefeather) Kellar was designed around lunch at a certain little cantina in town.

Since Curtis had to work, I was free to relax, shoot my bow and wander off into a patch of land we've come to call Sherwood Forest.

Curtis had told me that it was dry down that way and he wasn't kidding. It was very dry and every step I took sent out a crunchy warning to any animal that might have been in the area.

It was a great visit to a favorite hunting spot, but no animals were sighted.
I even tried tooting on my varmint call, but Curtis later told me he'd been hitting that place pretty hard with a call, so I wasn't surprised by lack of response from brother coyote.

Curtis and I had a little prep to do for our upcoming hunt near Laredo, but that's not worth mentioning.

I'll get on with the hunting part in a little bit.

[Littlefeather]

Gosh, That seems like such a distant memory. Lots of stuff happened in a short period of time. Onward Charlie! CK

[Guru]

not gonna let this slip to pg.2

[IB]

OH yes The MASTER at WORK  

[Charlie Lamb]

Sorry for the delay guys. Seems I'm in a fog since I got back (no excuse for the rest of the time  :D  )

[Charlie Lamb]

We've all been there. You know how it goes. Curtis and I had poured over maps and aerial photos until we were cross eyed trying to somehow find something to relate to on them.
 
Some majic key that would bring them to life, turning one dimensional paper into a window that peeked into the heart of our proposed hunting spots.

It's part of the process I guess and somehow satisfies fleetingly the desire to be there.

Finally all the prep was done and distant speculation was fading fast. We sat poised in our trucks as the electric gate slowly opened like that majic window we'd so wished for.

Tires rumbled and suspension creaked as we eased across the cattle guard and onto the ranch property.

Jerry had regailed us with tales of seeing 20 and 30 Javelina on the ride across the ranch to the camp house.

We were soon to find that those had been more than tales.
In the 4 miles from gate to camp we counted 45 Javies that sunny afternoon. WOW!!

This was gonna be way cool!

I know Curtis loves hunting Javelina and I've developed a passion for it myself. We were fit to be tied.

You see we couldn't hunt until the Texas Sweat officially started... the following day. Poop!

We'd sure keep busy in the mean time though. There were map features to turn into reality, game numbers and concentrations to be noted and of course a bunny or two to slay.

I guess as south Texas ranches go, this one was the spittin image of every other ranch down that way.

Miles and miles of rolling hills covered with prickly pear and mesquite cut through with senderos and barbed wire fences.

But that's where the similarity ended. I'd never seen a ranch with as much javelina sign as we'd seen. There tracks were everywhere.

Not just the places you'd expect them... I mean everywhere!

We barely knew where to begin and in that respect we were fortunate to have Jerry there to place a finger on the map in key spots that he'd noted in his travels.

Matter of fact, he took us for a quick spin around the ranch (only barely scratching the surface of this 12,000 acre spread) and it became apparent that there were no "hot spots".

You could literally go anywhere and expect to find game.... and we did.

After Jerry left us to our own devices, we quickly set up our two tents behind the camp house and readied our bows for a trip to the brush and some bunny bustin.

While I'd seen ranches where the bunnies were thicker, I wasn't disappointed in the opportunities we found.

As usual the cottontails were tiny compared to my own midwestern (eastern cottontail) bunnies. They proved to be tough as nails too.

That seemed to be a common factor with all the game we saw while there. They were all wired for sound and gave in to well placed arrows only grudgingly.

At the end of our first trip into the brush we came back to camp with a dozen bunnies between us.
 

Along toward dark we'd scouted more than enough places to put the arriving hunters so we eased back toward the camphouse and a bite to eat.

With a large lake behind camp to temp us we lazed around until dark and then took our flashlights and bows down to the waters edge.

We figured there had to be frogs and we sure weren't wrong. In half an hour we'd sacked up a couple of messes and retreated to camp to relax and await a new day.

[Guru]

Good shootin' big man      

[Terry Green]

Thanks Charlie for morning read.  Went well with my coffee.  Looking forward to hearing more sir.  

[Charlie Lamb]

Our second morning on the ranch dawned overcast and gray, but barely affected the look of the south Texas brush.

It was dry down there. Damn dry! Like in no rain for six months.
But even though the parched earth begged for moisture, spring was still beginning to bloom.

It was as if mesquite and black brush had their roots deep into the the earths core. Like the animals that lived here, the plant life too was tenacious, even defiant.

Most everything that was really green turned out to be the mesquite and of course the whole country was studded with the pastel greens of prickly pear cactus which was just now showing the first signs of blooming.

The tiny dark green buds of the "pear" showing no hint of the luscious translucent red fruit that they would morf into later.

Curtis and I cruised more roads looking for sign, barely taking time to stop to look at the the small pods of javies we seemed to be forever bumping into.

At one stop for a brief bunny chasing episode we had a chance incounter with a large bobcat.

How we missed him sitting at the intersection of two senderos, I'll never no.
You'd think even a master of camoflage like the bobcat would have stuck out like a sore thumb in that barren location.

The fact is that I didn't spot him until he was moving casually toward the cover of cactus and blackbrush.

With no perceived hurry the cat stepped from the open into the fringe of cover along the sendero and as if stepping through a shimmering time warp portal, simply disappeared.

Time went by all too fast that morning. We brought a couple more rabbits to bag, briefly talked of the sign we'd seen and the places we'd send people and then we were off to meet the gang.

[JC]

Now I know why I didn't see many rabbits....Charlie and CK killed all the extras their first day   :D

[Shaun]

Coffee and well written tales of the hunt. What a way to start the day. Takes me right back there. A great pleasure to get to share a camp with you Charlie and thanks for extending the experience.

[Charlie Lamb]

The meeting with group 1 at the information center was like old home week and with desire for the hunt burning high, we wasted little time there.

Soon on the ranch and with amenities taken care of, some map orientation of hot spots and good luck wishes we all set off to hunt.

I led Ben Moffitt and Kyle to a section of the main ranch road that had been crawling with javelina. A few brief thoughts shared and then I was off to a section by my self.

Most of the afternoon I sat watching and playing with javie stalks.
Seems I was a little rusty in the "sneaky" department and was making every mistake in the book.

Fortuately in this kind of hunting, just when you think you've blown it for the last time and you'll never see another javie in this spot... another would show up and the game would be on again.

The very first javie I got on was a worthy old boy.

Bigger by far than the rest of the sounder, I'd spotted him back in the edge of some scattered prickly pear patches.

I'd set myself up behind cover just ahead of the cruising "stinkalina" behind a heavy screen of brush and cactus.
As he walked out into my shooting lane I finished the last 2 inches of my draw and sent "Herb" the 2" wide Simmons Tree Shark toward the mark.

In that instant in time, when success hangs on the gossimer thread of fate and all things move in fast forward, the arrow glanced wildly up and over the brush, the javelina whirled and disappeared and the "thrum" of the bowstring was just a memory in the air, pulsing in my ear like my heart beat.

Ask me what happened for sure? I don't have a clue!

I did it all that afternoon. That is I messed up stalks with every conceivable foul up that a guy can experience. Sight, sound and smell all played into the game.

Finally, as the sun slid slowly below the horizon, I slid slowly behind the steering wheel of my truck and headed down the sendero toward camp.

For years I'd been wanting to see a bonafide big south Texas rattler but so far had never run across one... some will say that's a good thing. I just wanted to see one and got my chance that night.

Stretched out like a rake handle (that was as thick as my forearm) was a diamond back to more than satisfy my itch.

Somehow I was no longer as comfortable and secure in the cab of my truck as I had been a minute before. I felt an urge to roll up the windows and mover on, but I pulled the truck to a stop and grabbed my bow.

I stalked the big snake as you would a canny critter. I didn't want my approach to scare him off into heavy cover.

As it turned out he was in no hurry and after thinking about it I could understand why. He had nothing to fear in that brush except maybe a pig... he sure wasn't afraid of me

I approached within about 10 feet of the six footer. He slowly drew his body into a taught S curve as he sensed my approach.

Cocked, locked and ready to rock... I respect that!

As his head rose slowly above the line of his body I came to full draw and sent a blunt crashing into his brain. Simple as that.

I took his picture in death and saved the carcass to be skinned for future use.  
   

After removing and burying the head, I closed the "stump" end in my tail gate to keep him from bleeding all over my truck bed. The body coiled and writed a little and lay still.

Happy to have fulfilled a wish I hopped in the truck and headed toward camp and supper once more.

About the time I approached the area I had left Ben and Kyle I spotted them standing beside the road as if waiting for me.

A quick question and they were spinning tales of stalks and shots and other exciting stuff. The boys were pumped! They'd been into the javies big time.

While we stood beside the truck I glanced down the road to see a Javelina feeding in the gloom a mere 30 yards from us.

It was pretty dark and the guys were tuckered out (their drive had been long and nonstop and they'd yet to rest) so the little pig was left to his dining.

Without thinking I told the guys I'd give them a lift to their truck... "just jump in the back guys".... I'd forgotten my other passenger!

Well, let me say there was a flurry of activity around the truck as Ben slung his daypack over the tail gate and set it squarely on the front end of that dead rattler... which squirmed around real good for effect.

Hell, it scared the crap out of me... and I knew it was in there.
I can't speak for Ben and Kyle, but to their credit they didn't jump on me and pummel me to a bloody pulp for the start they'd been given.... which would have been my inclination!

They never did look at me the same after that!   :D  

We got on into camp where a fine mexican dinner was waiting. We band of rogues shared all of our adventures in the round at the round table in the grand hall that night.

A finer bunch of ruffians you never saw, feasting like knights of the grail and regaling each other into the night with tales conquest, adventure and defeat.

[JC]

Take notes fellers....a story teller of great reknown is at work! Nobody does it better Charlie....

(though I'm a little surprised he hasn't taken the rest of the week to get this far)  

[IB]

I think it would be easier on my BRAIN HOUSING to wait for da BOOK  

[Whip]

There had to be some tears shed over that story back at camp - Like Kyle is prone to say when it's not about him - I don't care who you are, that's some funny $hit right there!      

[Littlefeather]

Great tellin Bud! Real good stuff there!!! Can I get another chapter before dark please???? Com'mon, please!!!! CK

[Charlie Lamb]

Have you ever been somewhere there were a lot of coyotes? I thought I had!

Seems like you could count on seeing coyotes every day... and I don't mean just one or two.

I'd bet that on average I saw a half dozen every day. It sure made you think about having to leave any game in the field for any length of time.

I took advantage of the type of hunting we were doing and the varmint call I always have in my pocket to call 6 coyotes while on the ranch.

I shot at the first one as he turned to go into heavy brush when he made me at 30 yards. Close, but a clean arrow and unscratched dog moving faster into the scrub.

The others either saw me at a distance....coyotes see the human form VERY well... or winded me.

I'd usually play this little game early in the morning before the javie action really got going.

After the day warmed up a little I'd get more serious about finding javies... and find them I did.

There are a couple ways to get on a javie to shoot at in south Texas.

Probably the best is to get ahead of them when they are moving and let them work to you. That's a time proven method for anything.

The next is a simple slow stalk, using available cover and playing the wind.

I much prefer the adrenaline rush I get from moving to the animal instead of having it move to me.
I know I can screw it up at any time with a miss step that snaps a twig, or by letting my clothes brush against limbs and such.
I guess it makes me work harder and I like that.

I think it was the second day of the hunt when Curtis and I got together for a short cruise.

It was late morning and the other hunters were trickling into camp for breakfast and a cup of coffee.

We said our "see ya's" and took off down the north sendero leaving camp.
It kind of runs up a bottom for a way and then curves uphill and runs down a long, wide ridge.

As we came around the last curve Curtis spotted javies in the brush. Continuing past the spot, I dropped from the truck with bow and quiver in hand.

Javie are notorious for startling at an approaching truck and running off just out of sight.
After a short wait they'll often return to the spot you last saw them.
This was what I was counting on.

I had a good wind in my face. Good enough that the sound the wind made in the brush helped cover sounds of my movement.

Constantly scanning the brush, "back in there", I moved slowly toward where I thought they'd been.

Suddenly there was a flash of something black back in the brush and cactus. A second later a javelina squirted across a small opening trotting in the direction I'd come from.

I tracked the javie with my bow, swiveling slowly to keep pace with the moving critter, hoping it would at least angle closer.

It was in much too heavy brush for any kind of shot and I'd decided to wait for a very close shot or none at this point.

As the javie moved out of the realm of me getting a shot I glanced around to see where the others might be... they are seldom alone!

I saw nothing, but in the second or two I had my head turned the original javelina came trotting into veiw retracing the path it had just come down.

Again I tracked the little musk hog with my bow and positioned myself for any opportunity to shoot.

I'd convinced myself that the javie would pass through the brush without offering a shot when it made a right angle turn and was headed straight at me.

Suddenly I had a javelina at 10 yards and closing fast.

I knew that it might stop when it saw me and turn enough to offer a clear shot at it's vitals, so I stood ready.

At 12 feet the little critter stopped and gave me "the stare". Anything could happen at this point and I knew it... more than likely I would be all alone in the cactus, all of a sudden.

I had a slightly quartering on shot into the javies shoulder and figured I could pin point the shot at that distance.

I pumped my 67# longbow to anchor and let the arrow slip.

As quick as thought the javie jerked it's head... into the path of the Interceptor shod aluminum shaft.

CRACK!!!

The javelina reeled back from the force of the broadhead driving it's length into it's forehead.

It crashed to the right and went down, then crashed to it's left.

That's about the time a second Interceptor flashed through it's chest. It was over that quickly.

 

Without a lot of fanfare I picked up my diminuative quarry and walked out to the road.

Curtis was tickled pink when he saw my javie. It had all worked so well. We were back in camp with it less than fifteen minutes after we'd left.

 

[Huntrdfk]

All I can say is WOW!  Following this thread and these hunts has been a real treat, and now having Mr Lamb's take on them is like icing on the cake.  I hope there's more to come.

David