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I'm sold on December in Mexico. I treat it like an Oct. Arizona hunt. Being able to get first crack at them, they've not been shot at so their out and about. I've had luck 2x during this month

The same morons that can't tell you what a Women is, now are gonna tell us what an Assault Weapon is. GTFO

Elect a clown, expect a circus!

This is the 6th and final print from the survival series painted by artist Michael Sieve. Print is titled "Get Lucky". In this print, a bow hunter's arrow is stopped in its tracks in a small tree just inches away from a monster buck. Image size is 17" x 27-1/2". Signed and Numbered Limited Edition of only 6,327 prints (6,222 of 6,327). New in shrink wrap. One of these is currently on eBay for $249. Located in Payson, AZ. $100

Year 1 : This journey started 3 years ago with a rifle. Like my first deer hunt, I had no idea what I was doing. I went high, I went low, I went into the thick, I searched out in the open. I was striking out. The last evening that I had to hunt, and after covering all of the different terrain that this unit has to offer, I decided to go back low and into the thick stuff. I had been in this area a few days prior, so I had some familiarity with it. It was 4th and long, and this was my hail mary. Less than 100 yards from my truck, and with less than 1 hour of light remaining, I cut a set of fresh tracks out of the main wash that I was in. I decided to follow them into the stuff that makes you question your sanity, as each step rips out a new piece of flesh. Obviously, this was not the quietest route that I could have chosen, but I wanted to follow these tracks. As I painfully pushed on, I heard the unmistakable woofing sound. I couldn’t believe it, I was closing in on them. I realize at this moment, I have no path forward that doesn’t spook them into the next area code. So, I back out and make my way down the main wash. I knew that they were feeding up the side of a hill, so I backtracked a couple hundred yards (if that) in each direction, got the wind right, and set out to cut them off. This walk was far less painful, but still thick and did not offer many shooting lanes for a rifle. As I’m pondering how I’d get a shot if I did manage to get in front of them, I suddenly see one cresting the top of the hill side that I am now on the backside of. It happened so quickly, that I messed it up before it even began (after doing everything right up to this point). My kneejerk reaction was to put the rifle up immediately. I was WAY too close for that, and couldn’t see a thing but blurry bushes and cactus. This subtle movement blew my concealment, and then the herd blew loose in every direction around me. I stay focused on the first one I saw, and it had moved behind a thick patch and we engaged in a stare down. Again, not knowing what to do in this situation, and after listening to it woof/stomp for long enough, I make the snap decision to try to side step the bushes. Still too close for a rifle, my movement was caught immediately and like a cartoon character this thing took off faster than I realized they were capable of moving. I tried holding in front of it after it crossed the wash on the far side and squeezed one off. I knew immediately it was a clean miss, but did my due diligence to confirm it. When I got to where it was when I shot, it was moving so fast that it was easy track. I followed the deep impressions it left behind as far as I could, and to no avail I finished out my hunt gridding that area as the sun set on my first Javelina hunt. Year 2: I have one weekend to hunt, and a 10 year old in tote. I had gone out the week before opener to check cams (last year of doing this). As I am making my way through some of the areas that I had been in the year prior, I decide low and thick is where we will be (again with a rifle). Not far from my camera, I jump a herd bedded nearby. A mama and little one stay in front of me at 10 yards for quite some time. She never became threatening, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little intimidated in the moment as I was not packing, and wasn’t sure if she’d charge to protect the little one. Anyway, I took some pics, marked the area on ONX, set a cam, and back home I went. Opening morning comes, and for obvious reasons we head out on foot to where I had jumped the herd the week before. I’m a novice hunter, and now I have my boy with me. I have to at least make him believe that I know what I am doing, in hopes that one day he does know what he is doing. It takes us a little over an hour to hike in. All along, I am teaching him about the wind, the sound, the tracks, the signs and most importantly the repercussions of not paying attention to where the cholla are. He’s doing great so far, he’s being quiet, he’s listening, not complaining, I’m sure this is all because I bribed him with a $5 per shed offer to help keep him focused. As we’re getting closer to the “hot zone”, I start telling him to move slower, walk lighter, etc. because we are almost to where I want to be. He gives me the thumbs up, and we start making our way up the hill side that I am convinced will lead to Javelina land on the other side of. As we approach my mark on ONX I hear it starting. Ah…ah….ahhhh chooooo! Over and over and over again…In this moment, I don’t even turn around. I stand there and literally laugh out loud. There was no Javelina land on the other side of this ridge, but his allergy attack ensured that there wasn’t a Javelina within a mile of us in any direction now. Not long after this moment, I spot a decent 3 point shed and want him to earn his 5 bucks. So…I walk by it, come back to it, circle around it, stop short of kicking it, before I can’t take it anymore and finally ask him what the heck he’s looking at besides that nice 3 point shed on the ground in front of him. He shakes his head, laughs, and told me he didn’t actually believe me all along that there’d be sheds out here in the desert. We hunt hard the rest of the day and the following day without much to show for it but a shed, a pic of him with someone else’s recent kill (we found the hooves and gut pile), and a new marker on ONX where we found the most sign (more on this in the conclusion). All in all, we came up empty handed, didn’t see a live pig, but I shared some great memories with one of my boys. Year 3: The conclusion My wife decides she wants to go see Kane Brown in Vegas for our 5th anniversary this year, and the concert falls on opening weekend, much to my displeasure. I reluctantly agree to this, and tell my father in law that I only have opening morning to hunt, and that I’d be back in a few days. I really like the area I have been hunting the past two years, but have concluded that it’s not conducive to rifle hunting. This year we put in for the HAM tag, and I decide I will try for my first big game harvest with a bow. Thankfully the HAM hunt is a longer hunt because now I’m going to miss part of it for this concert. Opening morning comes, and it’s cold and windy out. I am going in with my bow, and my game plan isn’t to glass from afar so I don’t really care if they are hunkered down. I considered it an advantage and I set off from camp on foot. Within an hour, I’m moving through a small wash wind in my face and I catch movement out ahead approximately 40 yards. Bingo, a pig is feeding behind a bush in front of me, and I have a strong wind in my face. I nock an arrow, and don’t move a muscle (experience from 2-years ago kicks in). While I am thinking of a game plan, the wind swirls, and as hard as it was blowing in my face, suddenly I’m up wind and it’s blowing twice as hard back down toward the pig. Now, I have always heard about the importance of the wind. But for the first time I experienced it firsthand. This pig did not see me, there’s no way. When that wind shifted, it got alert, and before I knew it he was on the run. Now, for the rodeo. I quickly moved up the wash fast enough to see him run up the other side. I tuck in the left side of the wash and think to myself that I’ll try and get in front of him. I can’t see him at this point, but I can hear him. He’s woofin’ and screamin’ mad. It sounds like he’s running in a circle around me. At this point, he’s been so vocal, I decide to stop where I am at, and I let out two calls. I hear him immediately begin charging towards me, and I couldn’t believe it actually worked. I draw back, and hold where I think he’s coming from up wash. I see his nose, when all of a sudden the wind hits me hard with another gust from behind, and he bolts sideways one step away from me releasing. I boogey to the other side where he ran up, and lose sight of him. I’m now standing ¾ of the way up the hillside, and it sounds like he got in behind me somehow (or there was another pig that I hadn’t seen up to this point, I’ll never truly know). I knelt down and listened for a second. It was close, so I decided to let out two calls to see if I could bring him up. Not on a rope, but he comes in and he comes in heavy and fast. It was almost comedic sitting there watching him jump around like he was being electrocuted or something. Hopping over the ledge of the wash onto the hill side, and bouncing side to side all the way up to me. It was incredible, he bounced behind every single bush, and cactus on that hillside between him and I, always blocking my shot. He comes to a stop 5-yards in front of me, directly behind a bush. I am at full-draw, and I hold, we stare, and I hold until my arms start shaking and are about to give out. It’s hard to say how much time has passed during this stare down, but long enough for me to have contemplated taking an ill-advised shot on several occasions. I held until my arms finally gave out, and he never moved a muscle until I let down. Once he caught that movement, he was out of there faster than I could stand and draw back again. I felt a weird combination of “that was awesome!”, and “my soul has been crushed by a blown opportunity, yet again”. I reflected, I hunted some more, met my father in law for lunch, told him the story about the big one that got away yet again, and hunted until dark in the cold wind. Now I had to make the long drive home to get ready for Vegas, while replaying the sequence of events over, and over again for the next three days. He hunted while I was gone, never turning up any pigs. I made it back to camp the following Thursday and rejoined him. The night prior, I knocked an old hunting hat of mine off of the shelf, which happens to be the hat I wore on the hunt with him when I shot my first deer. I said to myself that I’m going to bring it along for good luck. I make mention of this to him at camp in the morning over coffee, put on the lucky hat, we wish each other luck, and head off in our separate ways. I left the bow at home this time, and decided to bring the .357. He heads to the area that my son and I were in the year prior that I marked on ONX, and I go right back to where I blew it opening morning of this year. By 8:30am, I get a text message from him saying “Pig down. More in here, at least 6”. I am way too far away for that to matter, so I just give him the thumbs up sign, and let him know I am on to some fresh sign myself. I am happy for him, but also feel an immense amount of pressure set in now. I can’t help but think it’s never going to happen for me at this point. Knowing approximately how long it will take for him to get back to camp, I hunt the area I am in accordingly, and make my way back so I can congratulate him and take a picture if he wants one. He’s pretty much got the entire pig taken care of by time I get back. We talk briefly, and then I have him drop me off in a new spot close to where he just was and near the area my son and I found the year before. I get out, he wishes me luck yet again, and tells me to call him at lunch and he’d come pick me up. I have no intention of calling him at lunch, and tell him not to expect a call from me until nightfall unless I text him that a pig is down. Where he drops me at, the wind is wrong for where I am trying to get to. I walk out of my way so that I can get the wind in my favor, and cut across a few washes to start making my way to my marker. As I am approaching, I know the area is hot. The beds here are being used, there’s fresh scat, and my father in law just got one not far from here. So, I decided to stop moving and let out 2 calls. Within 30 seconds I see her cross the wash up ahead of me. I slowly move to the right side, and kneel down. I completely lose visibility of her when I squat, so I decide to let out two more calls since they had been responding to them up to this point. The wind is perfect, and I sit there waiting for her to come down the wash that would present me with about a 5-yard broadside shot. But she doesn’t come down the main line that I expected her to. She made a big loop and came in at me head on. It didn’t matter where she came from this time, I was cocked and ready. As soon as I saw her I put the red dot on her chest and squeezed off one fatal shot quartering towards me. It inserted her chest and was held up on the exit near her rear ribs by the hyde. I found the bullet when I was skinning her. And just like that, 3-years of ups and downs, close encounters, and everything in between finally came together. 11 minutes after he dropped me off, and with shaking hands, I texted my father in law, “pig down”, and marked my location on ONX. Later when looking at ONX, I realized I shot her within feet of where my son and I had stood and marked the year prior. When I zoom out of ONX, you can barely even differentiate the markers, it’s that close. We were back at camp with two pigs in the ice chests and drinking bloody marys by noon that day. AMAZING experience.

See what ammo you CAN find then get the rifle to match. I have a feeling ALL ammo is going to be even harder to find real soon.

Pelosi keeps her bodyguards, and they can use whatever they want. So based on my abilities, I declare and here bequeath thee bodyguards. Bodyguard definition - any man or woman that defends others from harm.

Out of the tank was no problem. There was water up to the top. Getting it up in the truck was another question. It was about all I could do to not have a hernia. I would guess about 150lbs. Any heavier and I don't think I could do it without cutting it up first. I did my check at game and fish on Tuesday. I guessed it at 3-4 years old.The g&f guy thought a little older looking at the teeth.

I was able to connect on this bear this morning with my 6 year old son in tow. Gun was a Smith and Wesson 29 classic hunter.

I know I sound like a broken record, but if we continue on the path we have been on for about 17 months, the end game of this is going to make the taxation without representation end game look like child's play. Eddie

Definitely IYO...

Especially those horrible 9mm lung blowers.

Does it really surprise you, though? What surprises me is that some folks on this site and guys that I work with support Biden. Blows me away. At least they have stopped saying that the resident and his policies don't affect the price of gas.

These same people fully support shipping lots of guns and weapons to Ukraine for it's people to defend themselves, but not their own country. With our tax dollars by the way. Think on that....

just learn to run faster than your friend, or clip the achilles and your golden.

+1 on the bear spray in addition to the handgun you shoot well. It's a good practice to have a buddy at the ready while you are distracted tending to the downed animal. Friends in AK tell me that in some areas (mostly the islands) bears rush to the sound of a rifle shot like a dinner bell trying to beat the hunter to the carcass. My MT friends have not related that level of bear activity there. Aside from the bear issue, it should be a fun hunt!

Tony and I had been communicating back and forth the past few months. He drew a late rifle Unit 23 bull tag this year and knew his worsened physical condition was going to prevent him from getting out for that one last hunting trip. After our talking back and forth, Tony felt he had finally found the right organization for his tag in Heroes Rising Outdoors. He wanted to be sure that his tag would be going to an Arizona veteran who had been disabled due to an actual combat related injury. I assured him that we'd make that happen. It hit me to the core when Tony told me he doubted he'd be here when the time for the hunt arrived. I hated to hear those words, but prepared myself for what might be. For those of you in the younger generations, you really missed out on a special man who contributed greatly to the hunting fraternity through the years! Tony had accumulated a wealth of knowledge he shared through many decades of writing. He was direct in what he had to say, whose thoughts carried much merit. You definitely will be missed, Tony! We were fortunate you were an Arizonan ... Godspeed!

Glock 10mm was my choice. Sig is bring out a 10mm though, and that has been super interested. I shot it a few weeks ago before it was released and I shot it really well...

I have a Glock model 40 with a red dot on it Etc that I could be talked out of. Have some upgrades and a brand-new optic on it so it won't be in the $500 price range but we can talk price.

We have finally settled back in at home so it time for a write up about our hunt. I have had a burning itch for a bear the last few years. I was talking to a good friend who is a guide and he pointed me in the right direction of a generally good area and a particular tank. I ran a cam there for a few years and made a few day trips to hunt it. I had many close calls, but no luck. Twice I had sows with cubs come in and more than a few times I had missed a legal bear by a day after I checked my trail cams. I knew from past years trail cam photos that this time of year a bear hits the tank at least every other day. My son finished kindergarten last Thursday, and didn't start his summer camps till after memorial day. I figured if I took Friday off and hunted with him for 4 days in a row we should have a very decent chance at a bear. I loaded the truck up Thursday morning, and when he got out of his last day of school we hit the road. We finally got to our camping spot around 10:00 and set up camp. Where the tank is, is about 5 rough miles from where we camped. Our camping location is where we javi hunt and has cell service. Gives mom peace of mind to check in at night. Friday morning we loaded the truck and headed up the mountain. We put up our pop-up blind and spent time brushing it in. Within about 2 minutes of finishing and settling in we had a young Jake turkey come in and give us a good show. When he left the tank he walked within about 3 yards of our blind. At the 15 minute mark we had a big coatamundi come in. Already I'm getting excited. I've sat this tank probably 100 hours over the past few years and in the spring/summer hardly anything comes in. It just seemed like a good day for animal movement. At the 30 minute mark I set my kid up on his i-pad and I pull out my book, getting ready for the long haul of sitting 15 hours a day for 4 days. While I am reading, I I pull my head up and scan every paragraph. This area is tight with some topography and the vegitation really shot up the past few weeks, so there are a lot of approaches a bear could take that you would see till they are right up at the tank. At the 45 min mark I pull my head up at see this bear already at the tank! I get my son's attention and he stands right over my shoulder. I told he we are going to watch and make sure there are no cubs with it. After a few minutes of watching and paying attention to see if the bear is looking around like it's looking for cubs to fallow I decide this is a solo bear. I tell him to plug his ear and get ready for a shot. The bear is a pretty, fluffy, stereotypical black bear. It is standing up on the rim of the tank drinking, slightly quartering towards up. I aim for the shoulder at 50 yards and squeeze. The bear goes stiff, and drops right in the tank. After I collect myself, we make our way to the tank. The bear sank right to the bottom and the water has no visibility in it. It took a while to finally noodle around a find it and pull in up. Not a monster, but a decent pretty sow. We tag it, head back to camp and take some pics and start cutting it up. I was expecting a long, gruelling weekend trying to keep a 6 year old happy and we were all done and finished in an hour and a half. I told my son that it can go in his room and let him pic out the taxidermy because he is always a good sport and always willing to go on any hunt with me. He decided on a bear rug which will go great in his room. Logistically, shooting a bear on memorial day weekend is not the best as I couldn't check in my bear, contact a taxidermist or a meat processor. We decided to process the bear ourselves and did breakfast sausage, brats, jerky, roasts and cured hams. So far the breakfast sausage and jerky has been awesome!

Awesome! Great job guys. What a great memory for you guys.

Well done dude!