- Feb 21, 2014
- 9
- 0
I just picked up my 2013 Javelina mount from Clay at Mogollon Taxidermy… and I still can’t get over how awesome it is. I had this mount idea in mind, and Clay made it come to life with his artistic talent. Thanks again Clay!
I’ve included my hunt story, field photos, and of course the completed mount. Hope you enjoy….
Story:
It was the last weekend of January, and Dad and I were making a day-run from the valley. We turned off the highway and rolled the truck windows down. The crisp winter air nipped into the cab, and we enjoyed the early morning still of the Arizona desert. For ten miles we rolled along, listening to the iPod shuffle through Jack Johnson, Chris Young and even a little Eddie Arnold.
We pulled into our launching spot at 7:00 a.m. and unloaded the quads from the trailer. Iced down for the day, we crawled up the four-wheel drive road that ventured out behind our truck. Thirty minutes later we were at our ‘spot’, and ready to glass for javelina.
After pounding the sunny slopes, glassing the prickly pear patches, and sitting two call stands, the sun was directly overhead and we hadn’t spotted a herd. At 12:00 pm, we decided to head back to the bikes, and continue further down our road into some country that we hadn’t hunted before.
At 1:00 pm, we crested a canyon ridge and stopped to do some midday glassing. In our field of view was a half-mile stretch of rolling grass ridges, sprinkled with prickly pear and juniper. The ridges fed down into a deep canyon that held perennial water, and the canyon edges were laced with bluffs. The terrain just looked ‘piggy’.
After 20 minutes the wind started to gust and our faces got cold fast. Dad packed up his binos, and loaded his bike…time to keep moving. I followed suit, but threw up my binos to sweep the prickly pear one last time. And I’m glad I did.
I spotted a group of pigs 800 yards out. They were moving fast through the pears and were headed towards the deep canyon. We knew we had to make tracks. The heard was down-wind from us, and we needed to get slightly ahead of them to backtrack into a cross-wind.
We grabbed our packs and bows, and rushed towards the pigs. As we got as far as we figured we needed to be, Dad and I split up 100 yards apart and slowly stalked down into the prickly pear. After 200 yards, I caught movement up ahead and watched a pig dart out 150 yards up. I motioned to Dad the direction it was headed, and we proceeded further. It wasn’t but a couple minutes later, and I caught more movement; this time closer. It was the lead boar and he was walking away from me 100 yards ahead. I whistled and motioned to Dad, but realized the pig had heard me too.
He planted his hooves, whipped his head around, and looked in my direction. Understanding their curious nature, I let out another soft whistle and watched as he started on a trot straight towards me.
As he went from 100, to 90, to 80, and 70 yards I barely had enough time to knock my arrow let alone range find my immediate surroundings. At 60 yards he stopped once more, and I gave him the same whistle one last time. He started again, but immediately turned at a diagonal into the wind trying to catch the scent of the unfamiliar sound.
I knew my time was limited and he busted me at 40 yards. I was ready and sank an arrow in his chest right before he broke.
It was a great day and I guessed my boar to weigh an average 35 lbs. Miller Southwestern Processing made him into some delicious snack sticks and Clay at Mogollon Taxidermy completed a beautiful mount that I have always wanted to have done.
Thanks for reading
I’ve included my hunt story, field photos, and of course the completed mount. Hope you enjoy….
Story:
It was the last weekend of January, and Dad and I were making a day-run from the valley. We turned off the highway and rolled the truck windows down. The crisp winter air nipped into the cab, and we enjoyed the early morning still of the Arizona desert. For ten miles we rolled along, listening to the iPod shuffle through Jack Johnson, Chris Young and even a little Eddie Arnold.
We pulled into our launching spot at 7:00 a.m. and unloaded the quads from the trailer. Iced down for the day, we crawled up the four-wheel drive road that ventured out behind our truck. Thirty minutes later we were at our ‘spot’, and ready to glass for javelina.
After pounding the sunny slopes, glassing the prickly pear patches, and sitting two call stands, the sun was directly overhead and we hadn’t spotted a herd. At 12:00 pm, we decided to head back to the bikes, and continue further down our road into some country that we hadn’t hunted before.
At 1:00 pm, we crested a canyon ridge and stopped to do some midday glassing. In our field of view was a half-mile stretch of rolling grass ridges, sprinkled with prickly pear and juniper. The ridges fed down into a deep canyon that held perennial water, and the canyon edges were laced with bluffs. The terrain just looked ‘piggy’.
After 20 minutes the wind started to gust and our faces got cold fast. Dad packed up his binos, and loaded his bike…time to keep moving. I followed suit, but threw up my binos to sweep the prickly pear one last time. And I’m glad I did.
I spotted a group of pigs 800 yards out. They were moving fast through the pears and were headed towards the deep canyon. We knew we had to make tracks. The heard was down-wind from us, and we needed to get slightly ahead of them to backtrack into a cross-wind.
We grabbed our packs and bows, and rushed towards the pigs. As we got as far as we figured we needed to be, Dad and I split up 100 yards apart and slowly stalked down into the prickly pear. After 200 yards, I caught movement up ahead and watched a pig dart out 150 yards up. I motioned to Dad the direction it was headed, and we proceeded further. It wasn’t but a couple minutes later, and I caught more movement; this time closer. It was the lead boar and he was walking away from me 100 yards ahead. I whistled and motioned to Dad, but realized the pig had heard me too.
He planted his hooves, whipped his head around, and looked in my direction. Understanding their curious nature, I let out another soft whistle and watched as he started on a trot straight towards me.
As he went from 100, to 90, to 80, and 70 yards I barely had enough time to knock my arrow let alone range find my immediate surroundings. At 60 yards he stopped once more, and I gave him the same whistle one last time. He started again, but immediately turned at a diagonal into the wind trying to catch the scent of the unfamiliar sound.
I knew my time was limited and he busted me at 40 yards. I was ready and sank an arrow in his chest right before he broke.
It was a great day and I guessed my boar to weigh an average 35 lbs. Miller Southwestern Processing made him into some delicious snack sticks and Clay at Mogollon Taxidermy completed a beautiful mount that I have always wanted to have done.
Thanks for reading
