This is where the struggle of hunting with a longbow was realized.
I was able to get within 20yds of several javilena, and had a lot of animals within 10yds but hidden inside the brush. I waited for a few minutes, surrounded by pigs, before a shot was finally presented at roughly 18yds. I drew back, found my anchor, gapped the arrow point and let 'er fly.... right over its back.
I pulled a second arrow out of my quiver, moved closer to the commotion in the brush and a second pig stepped out to stare at me. I drew back, found my anchor, gapped the arrow, and let it fly... right under it's belly.
I don't miss animals very often, and I knew going into this hunt missing was something I would likely have to deal with. I spent a considerable amount of time shooting my longbow ever since I got it last February, and I was drilling dots and felt confident I could get it done. But that just wasn't the case in this moment. I missed, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it except retrieve my arrows, sharpen my broadheads, send a few practice arrows, and keep hunting.
---
For the afternoon we decided to check out a new area near a water tank that was absolutely covered in javelina tracks. We decided to split up to cover more ground. I would be hunting with Steve, and Ryan would hunt with his dad. Not long after leaving the vehicles, we found a group of muleys with a decent buck. Neither of us had a deer tag, so we sent the other guys a text, waited a few minutes with no response, and pressed on to a good vantage point.
The sun was out in force and it was pretty warm, and despite looking at a ton of fresh sign and what looked like great country, we didn't see any javelina up and walking setting. So we decided to cover some ground. We walked really slow and spent more time glassing than walking.
Roughly half a mile and an hour later we faintly heard a rock fall and a pig grunt not far from us. It was so faint that we couldn't quite determine an exact location, but we knew it was in front of us and the wind was good for a stalk. So we moved in slowly.
As we approached a small rocky outcropping, Steve gave me a, "psssst." I immediately stopped and slowly looked back up at Steve. "I think I got a pig." He said that just as my eyes settled on a decent boar laying on his side, in the wide open, 100yds away from us.
I took a few steps back to get behind cover and dropped my pack. As I was making my way down to the sleeping pig, he decided the sun was just a little too warm and slowly got up to stretch. He was well outside my range, so I stood and watched as he tucked himself into the brush.
I kept closing the distance when I saw a few pigs cross the opening in front of me from left to right. The commotion of the moving javelinas woke the rest of the group up, and there were suddenly pigs everywhere.
I watched a javelina slowly appear from under the brush at only 17 yards. I slowly drew back, and loosed the arrow. The arrow appeared to have flown true, the pig jumped straight forward and got tangled in the scrub oak for a few seconds before running off. I felt good about the shot and walked up to check my arrow, but it was clean.
While standing over my arrow, a boar broke out of the brush and came straight to me to check out what was going on. I drew back and he stopped at roughly 5 yards, but stared directly at me. I didn't have a clear shot, so I had to wait for him to turn. As soon as he did, I flung the arrow right over his back. He was too close! I blew it.
That boar ran up the hill a few yards into an extremely thick patch of oak scrub just above a very large boulder. He grunted and clicked his teeth at me and wasn't leaving, so I climbed up to the to of the rock. There were pigs in literally all directions. When the next shot opportunity presented itself, I was perched on top of a small rock precipice standing above the oak scrub. I drew back and sent the 3rd arrow of the stalk. It glanced off the pig's upper neck and the animal rolled on the ground and ran in a few circles. It was clearly a non vital hit. I immediately nocked another arrow and got a second shot at the same animal as it was sprinting toward me but I missed over its back.
Steve and I watched as the pig I hit ran over half a mile with the rest of the herd and never missed a step. We walked to where we'd last seen it, followed tiny specs of blood for another hundred yards or so before we lost the trail.
The long walk back to the vehicles had me doubting the whole traditional gear thing. I'd never shot 6 arrows in one day, and I've never gone 0 for 6. The thrill of getting close to so many animals was soured by the disappointment of missing so many times.
My personality doesn't handle outright failure very well. I was disappointed with my preparation and practice routine, but dwelling on my self-pity wasn't going to get me anywhere. So I plugged a few cactus with my judos and got over it.
Sent from my XT1254 using Tapatalk
