I don't know about far-fetched, but anyone within sight/earshot of this adventure would have wondered just how "experienced" these three hunters were. Back in 2005, me and 2 buddies got drawn for the February javelina HAM (handgun, archery, muzzleloader) hunt in a particular unit between Bisbee and Tombstone, AZ. One of my buddies was working for AZGFD at the time and contacted the local Wildlife Manager for info. The WM is a cool guy and sent us maps of where he'd just flown his surveys and marked where the herds were. We had a plan on motion to leave Thursday nite, one buddy driving from Phoenix to pick me up in Tucson and camp out to start hunting Friday morning. The other buddy was driving down Friday afternoon after he got done with work. Well, 2005 was one of our wettest winters at that time. I called my buddy (L.B.) on the road and stop at the house, we're not driving into a fairly remote area we've never been to in the rainy dark. We got up Friday morning and drove down in the rain found a flat spot on State Trust Land (important note for later) and set up camp. I was hunting with my bow, carrying my 1911 as a backup. L.B.'s plan was to use his Ruger Single 6 with the .22 mag cylinder (minimum caliber). We got our stuff ready and he realized he'd switched cylinders at home back to his .22LR thinking that was the cylinder actually in the frame and unkowingly stashed his .22 mag cylinder in a drawer so he wouldn't confuse it for the wrong one (bad omen #1). Luckily, he had his Sig in .40SW since we were close to the US/Mexico border and there are known issues there so that was his back up plan. We drove a bit looking for a spot to start our hunt from, but the rain never really let up so we went back to camp to wait for Rob to show up from Phoenix. We decided to rig some tarps to get out of the rain, eat some lunch, and make some coffee/hot chocolate to warm up. State trust land is heavily grazed down here and poorly regulated, so the best we could do was rig 2 tarps to a few scattered 4-5 foot tall mesquites and heavily grazed yuccas. After a couple of hours of sitting under the tarp trying to warm up (failing miserably) and having to poke our fingers into the tarps to drain 2 inches of water, we decided to head back to my house in Tucson and try again the next day. I called Rob to let him know the plan and he eventually met us at the house.
We got up early that Saturday and drove down, stopping in Tombstone at the Top of the Hill restaurant for a good warm breakfast (highly recommended) and lit out from there, heading to the best parking we could find closest to the star on the map denoting a herd. The weather was beautiful and, surprisingly, within 200 yards of the trucks, we came upon a herd of javelina feeding up canyon and we were walking into a strong down canyon wind associated with the passing front. We formulated a plan that involved me shooting first, being quiet with my bow, followed by Rob and L.B. using their pistols (Rob was borrowing my S&W Model 19 in .357 since he didn't own a handgun at the time; nor a bow; bad omen #2). We began our stalk and Rob talked me into putting my bow down because the mesquite/acacia thornscrub was too thick (bad omen #3). I headed straight up the draw bottom towards the herd with Rob and L.B. hanging on the ridge above me to catch them when the busted from me shooting. I eventually got to within 25 yards of a feeding javelina, perfectly broadside. Those creatures have poor eyesight but excellent noses. I froze when he looked my direction and when he went back to feeding, I took 2 more steps and aimed carefully. When I pulled the trigger on my 1911 (aiming through a clear shooting lane that my bow would have been perfect for), I was greeted with a very loud "click". Its amazing how many cuss words you can say to yourself that quickly. I hoped it was a jammed round and not what I was really thinking. I eased the slide back on an empty chamber, realizing I'd forgotten to reload it after I cleaned it 2 or 3 days earlier in preparation for the hunt (bouncing around the border, I was NEVER without a round in the chamber...until that day; I just assumed my 1911 was ready to go as usual). I could hear all the choice words my dad had for me from Heaven, knowing he was justified. I quickly, and rather angrily, jacked a round in the chamber and that sent the all ready spooked javelina running, which busted the entire herd. I took off after them, quickly realizing that Rob and L.B. were somewhere above me with pistols ready to go so I quickly backed out and retraced my path back. I heard 3 shots from their direction and took comfort that they were able to clean up my mess.
We tied back in together and I asked where the javelina were. There were none, all misses. Rob explained that when the herd busted, a javelina ran 10 feet from him catching him completely by surprise. He figured there was no way that would happen again, so when the next 1 ran 10 yards away in the clearing, he was dumbfounded. He REALLY never expected another one but thought he should maybe get ready, so when javelina #3 ran by 15 yards from him, he fired twice, missing both shots. I asked what the 3rd shot was. It was a desperation shot by L.B. (using his Sig) at a javelina running directly away from them at 60 yards. That was the day we invented catch and release hunting. Later, I told one of my dad's Army buddies (like a dad to me now) the story and he hung his head shook it at me like I deserved. It was pure Keystone Cops out there that day.
