High's and Low's

Arizona Javelina | High's and Low's

Arizona hunting is well known for trophy elk, Coues and mule deer, and bighorn sheep. However, we have another great game animal which is looked over, and too often, the javelina. The pig-looking animal is frequently passed over as a hunt option since it is a small-sized animal compared to any other “big game,” has an unusual scent, and has an unusual taste compared to other game fare.

In February, a couple of friends and I were fortunate enough to have tags for one “skunk pig” each by any legal means necessary. It was a general weapons hunt, and we were each using rifles accompanied by pistols in the event of a very close encounter.

While the collared peccary is known for having terrible eyesight and easily snuck up on, we spent the full seven hunting days looking for these oversized rodents. The hunt unit wasn’t the only thing with highs and lows, our emotions were high with optimism every morning and low by the end of each day, but we never gave up. We scoured the grassy high desert to the barren and volcanic rock desert bottoms until finally spotting a squadron about 45 minutes before last light on the last night of the hunt.

The hunt started on a cool Friday morning in the high desert where we spent the morning glassing, and unfortunately, we only found deer which were, of course, out of season. Such as hunting goes. The midday was spent moving to another spot and glassing the beautiful desert hill landscape and dry creek bottoms. Then the afternoon was spent in frustration walking through washes where we did find a small javelina… already dead and feasted upon. That evening was spent glassing and walking, and glassing and walking, until dark.

The next day ran the same course, even finding another dead javelina. After spending so much time looking, I began questioning my previous sightings of these animals on the hills in this part of the hunt unit since they now had become unusually elusive.

Sunday morning was spent with the same game plan as the previous days. Mid-morning, we drove home, returned the friend's RV trailer we were using, and went out in a different direction closer to home for what would be more nature watching than hunting. As hunting often goes, we did not have fortune on our side that night, but another hunting party near us did. Where we expected the javelina to come through two large hills, they sure did, but too far for us to see, yet close enough to hear the other hunters get their shots.

During the week, we each had to work, so we only ventured out in the evenings, which were unusually warm in the 80s. The high temperatures seemed to keep the pigs in their beds until it was too dark to see them, at least that’s what we told ourselves. Each evening, we would go out and climb a rock outcrop and glass the hillsides and washes but to no avail. Tuesday evening, we even had an extra pair of eyes with my brother-in-law joining us since he had a tag also, but he missed the rest of the hunt before and after for the birth of his daughter.

Come Wednesday night after another frustrating wander around the desert, I called in a favor to my friend who mentored me when I began hunting. I relived the hunt thus far and told him in even more detail than you’ve read how we have tried, tried, and tried again but needed another set of eyes… and his side-by-side so that he could drive us into an even more remote area than my truck would allow.

Thursday afternoon, we were all set and strapped in his side-by-side and headed out. The weather all week had been hot and sunny with little wind. This day was breezy with some hazy clouds but less dust and dirt in the air than cloud coverage. We told ourselves today would be the day we at least saw them since the weather had changed and we wanted to believe the breeze and not-direct sunshine would have them moving about earlier and more.

We slowly drove through some fine-looking habitat which had recent sign but not recent enough to kick up any javelina. We drove through a canyon and pulled over the hill and parked. We clambered out of the car and accented a rock knob in the middle of three valleys with great hills to glass all around. We each took a different position on this rock and began to break apart the hills and washes with our binoculars. After scanning the valley directly in front of me, I switched to a small hill and drainage to my west. Within minutes, I spotted a large boar making his way down and across the hill. I easily picked up the rest of the squadron. I told the closest hunting partner to tell our offroad captain to set up with sights on the piggies.

My two hunting buddies and I climbed down, dropped packs, and hustled over to the hill across the wash from the target animals. As we approached, we had trouble picking up the small to medium dog-sized animals with light fading behind the mountain. We spotted them moving slowly between prickly pear cacti, saguaros, ocotillos, chollas, and anything else with spines, spikes, and thorns. Within a couple of minutes of reaching this point, one friend was on his target, I was on mine, and the other friend was on and off his because of brush and cacti. I told them to fire when ready, and before I took a breath after saying that, the hunter closer to me shot his pig, startling me off my scope. I quickly got back on my gun and shot the one next to his kill, watching it fall over onto his like they do when they pile up in their beds for warmth. The other in our party wasn’t able to get on his target right away, but as soon as I fired, I got on the javelina call he had gifted me two days before and hammered it so that the remaining pigs would remain in the area and leave him with a chance. One little piggy ran in his sight and quickly behind a bush out of safe shooting lanes. I let him know another, bigger one was headed in the same direction, and he cut him off before the vegetation with a broadside shot, dropping him on the spot.

As soon as his shot went off, our safeties went on and the pistols came out to begin the walk up of our kills. We boogied on over the less than 100-yard distance, and each javelina lay where he had fallen. Jubilation was immediate, cheers were bellowed, and we gave thanks to the beautiful animals for their lives and the bounty they would provide. This hunt marked the first javelina hunt for both the other hunters, the first big game for one of them altogether, and my own first big game success since autumn 2022. We couldn’t have asked for a more rewarding end to our well-played hunt. Here's to looking forward to javelina chorizo and green chili sausage!