Originally posted by Guru:
Gotta be more to share than that...no???
Well, the weather was a huge improvement over last year, mid 80s to mid 90s all week. Nary a cloud in the sky. The company, as always, was fantastic. Mucho story telling, BS & laughter was heard around the fire or in the cookhouse all week long & entirely far too much Tecaté & Jim Beam was imbibed (I'll hold my hands up to that one)
Game sightings were very sparce (we found out why on the last day :rolleyes: )
I had a run in with 4 javies on the very first night & completely muffed a 20 yard shot, centrepunching the tire that was being used as a feeder :mad:
My next game sighting wasn't until 4 days later. JC & I had corned a ½ mile section of road & set 2 blinds, one near each end.
About 5 minutes after I got settled in I heard crunching on the road to my right. A group of 5 small javies had come straight out & started feeding towards me. At about 40 yards, they all locked up, looked off into the brush & ran off behind me. I couldn't decide whether to abandon my post & try to keep downwind of the herd, or hang tight & see if they'd come back, as javies are prone to do.
A few seconds later my mind was made up for me as two big, big javies came bustin' out of the brush from the opposite side of the road & started feeding away from me. A brief, barely audible lip-squeak later & I've got them turned around. At this point I'm turned sideways on my little dove-stool, bow in hand, arrow on string & just waitng for the little beggars to feed past my blind (which is about 20 feet from the centre of the road)
They slowly feed up to 15 yards & both are facing me. The smaller of the 2 decides at that point to split off from his bud & take a swift siesta....right in front of the blind, 10 yards away & with his little piggy eye staring right at me. Okay, so I can't stand up to shoot without being seen.
Fortuitously & showing unusual forethought on my part, I'd cut myself a 6" by 6" shooting hole in front of me.
The big javie carries on sowly feeding toward me. I see his nose slowly begin to appear in my window & the tension is frigging killing me!
I've got the wind strong & steady, directly in my face & Mr. Javie has not a clue in the world of my existence. Then, as if by magic, he locks up solid, 8 feet from my left boot tip. He's staring me right in the knee & I'm willing myself to not blink, breathe or think too loudly.
He decides he's just not happy & proceeds to turn round & start circling my brush blind. Just as comes around to my front, he pushes his whole head
into the blind with me! I'm about 3 seconds away from a complete neurological breakdown by now.
He finally gets a nosefull of Robbie & decides that he's no longer a happy piggy & beats feet down wind, mui pronto. Whew! What a rush!
His somnolent partner also decides that all is not well in Javieland & wakes up (entirely on the wrong side of the bed)
I figure that this is my last chance, come to full draw, pick a spot just below his right front knee, stand up & let fly....
Unless you've experienced first hand, just how quickly Javelina can go from fast asleep to flat out sprint, it's description is beyond my vocabulary. I'm shooting a 700gn arrow out of a carbon/foam limbed, 63# Morrison Cheyenne drawn to a genuine 31"
I mean this arrow is screaming. If it ain't booking at 200 FPS it's gotta be so close you'd never tell. It's as quiet as a church mouse too.
Shooting at a target merely 30
feet from me no noticeable time elapses between my brain saying
NOW!!! & the arrow dissappearing through whatever it is I'm shooting at....
All I managed to do was shave a few hairs from the right shoulder & back of this javelina. At 30 feet, he
STILL managed to duck & roll under my arrow.
Gak.
There are other tales of close encounters, highs & lows & derring-do, but I'll leave the telling of them to their respective proponents....
As to the lack of game, well, unbeknown to all of us, Curtis included, the neighboring ranch had set about clearing the county of all it's hogs & coyotes (And therefore, by association, anything else that isn't a steer) by baiting the hell out of the property.
By doing this, he'd enticed every pig & a lot of the javies over his fence line & then proceeded, once there were sufficient numbers, to fly over them in a small chopper & blow them all to hell & back with a shotgun.
Needless to say, Curtis was PISSED! JC & Chase saw this happening & Dave & Mel also heard the chopper & the shots. The game warden was called & put to task. It turns out that the ranch owner was doing nothing illegal & was fully licensed for the operation. The owner of the ranch we were hunting was apparently aware of this, but it somehow slipped his mind to let Curtis in on it. Damn bad deal all around. Not Curtis's fault, not our fault, not the game warden's fault (He was actually a fantastic guy to deal with) not even the ranch owner's fault. No-one was doing anything they shouldn't. My only issue was with the owner of the land we were hunting. A courtesy mention to the guy leasing the place, specifically to hunt (Curtis) would've been nice, but hey-ho.
Just for the entertainment value, here's a pic of my 'Oh God it's hot & there's no shade' blind from the last day (97º)
Topic: Any news about the Texas Sweat. (Read 321 times)
