Draysen (my son) and I spent every weekend and day off since January 1st chasing deer and javelina with our bows. We had more heartbreaking close calls than I want to think about, but never quite could close the deal. By the time the youth javelina hunt rolled around, we felt pretty dialed in on a few herds and just needed the piggies to cooperate. Kembria's first javelina hunt this past November was a new type of hunting "experience" for me, and tested my patience in ways I had not yet experienced. We had her lined up on so many pigs, so many times at close range, but it didn't work out. I took a lot away from that hunt about what my daughter needed from me to best help her, and about patience.
We didn't make it out for the opener Friday morning, but were on road before 4:30AM Saturday morning. We got to the top of the mountain just as it was getting light and were treated to watch multiple groups of whitetail, including some solid bucks, as the sun rose. A little before 9:00 the herd of javelina showed up right about where I was expecting them. Kembria made a great shot from long distance. This particular area was not conducive to close shots. After hiking down to her pig, we took some pictures and I sent Draysen back up the mountain to another ridge to look for another herd. It was his turn, and I knew we would be a few hours field dressing and packing Kembria's pig out. The pack out was ridiculous! By the time Kembria and I got back to the truck with her javelina, it was around 2:00. We got her pig in the cooler and called Draysen to check on him. He had seen deer, but no javelina. So we came up with a new plan. It took him about 30 minutes to hike back to the truck. We jumped in and headed about 45 miles north to check on another herd. As we approached the area, Draysen jumped out with his rifle and pack to head up a ridge. Kembria and I headed about 1500 yards down the road to check out another ridge. We hiked up our ridge and proceeded to glass the area. The afternoon started to grow late and the sun was on the verge of dropping below the mountain. I then heard the gun shot and spun my binos back to the opposite ridge, about a mile away. I looked just in time to see my son holding his arms in the air victoriously. He had found a herd with his ears and had "woofed" them in. By the time he got a visual, this old boar, with teeth ground down to nubs, was at 36 yards for a quick shot.
Kembria and I made our way to him, reaching him at the last bit of light. It was a great (and exhausting) day that didn't have us back to the truck with field dressed boar until a couple hours after dark. What a great day, but we are all three feeling the effects of it today!
"The Crew" hadn't stopped all day to eat, so a late pit-stop at Taco Bell on the way home was definitely in order.