Geez, this hunt has been the most fun and excitement this ol' boy has had in far too long a spell. What a great pleasure it was to see a face, shake a hand, and verbally/visually communicate instead of making cyber keyboard strokes to a cold, glowing monitor. There is no way I could have ever thrown in with a better buncha like-minded fellers than these folks that I shared roof, food and hunt with for nearly 3 days. Kindred spirits and true brothers of the bow.

I'd never been desert hunting before, never hunted outside the New England area. I learned a heckuva lot, and certainly in more than a few ways I'll be way better prepared for the next SoTx hunts. You betcha I'm going back!

The ranch accommodations were great and included A/C and satellite fed cable TV ... and the food, oh those great TexMex dishes ... yum, yum! And for a coupla nights we were privileged to have Kevin Smith tune up his geetar and belt out summa the dandiest songs you'll ever hear - take it from me, that boy drips talent!

Curt (Guru) and I caught a non-stop flight outta Newark, landed in San Antonio around noon and hooked up with Terry and JC. We drove 2.5 hours southwest to Laredo and the 13000 acre Laguna Ranch, stopping only to stock up on water and have lunch. The entire hunting party met up at the ranch house, shook hands and got acquainted with each other, picked our rooms, got gear situated and immediately began preparations for go out into the brush.

The ranch is huge and wild, with sandy/gravely senderos spidering over incredibly dense and thorny terrain. At least 99% of all plant species bear some form of prickly thorns that measure from a few mere millimeters to more than a few inches in length. Typically, at least one side of each sendero is fenced with barbed wire and can be a bit bush sparse at some of the edges where you can carefully hide and maneuver a stalk whilst attempting to avoid the thorns and getting spotted by critters. There are also some fairly open sandy areas, with some sparse and small vegetation for cover. Due to the dense thorn plants, all hunter movement was limited to the sandy senderos and a few sparsely bushed areas along the roadsides. Going into the brush to stalk or follow game would literally be suicide - or at least you'd be spending lotsa time pulling out thorn barbs, and believe me that AIN'T fun! The daily air temps are best described in one word: HOT. Mid-day, you really don't wanna be outside let alone outside and sweating!

What I've just described pretty much sets the scene and the tenure for hunting in this hostile and dense geography - locating game and then a combination of stalking and still hunting.

After camo'ing up, we grabbed our gear and did some preliminary scouting of the senderos, seeing where the game was holed up, and unlike the last Texas Sweat, where game was literally in front and behind you, we saw nothing. But it was early, and in all likelihood the evening should find the critters on the move for food and water.

Terry, JC, Kevin Smith and I drove out past the 'hub' (where lotsa roads met, like the center of a spider's web), eventually dropping off JC and Kevin to scout about while Terry and I moved to another 'tank' (pond) area, parked and checked for signs and hopefully movement - again, we saw nothing. We walked back to the truck, watered up and walked out on another adjoining sendero.

As we slowly sauntered along, eyes scanning left to right for game, terry spotted a bunny a few yards off to his left and gave me the 'here ya go bud, yer shot' sign. I was some yards to Terry's right and I slowly pulled out an Ace 175 Express tipped Hex Pine and nocked it on the Pacific Yew TD longbow's Dacron string, slowly came to 52#'s of full draw, held and aimed for the bunny's brain, and let fly.

The broadhead did some very serious damage to the neck area, with lotsa blood gushing out and the arrow still stuck through, but did that bunny keel over and give up the ghost? Nope, these Tejas critters are *tough* and he kept skittering about, dragging the arrow. After missing a second shot, I finally was able to grab the stuck arrow and quickly put an end to Mr. Rabbit's ordeal. We propped the rabbit up high on a thorn bush and continued the hunt and scouting.

After an hour or so, as the evening light was about to give way to stars, we got back into the truck and began the drive back. Following a different sendero, we jumped three javelinas meandering about the road and they scooted to the brush as we drove closer. We picked up JC and Kevin and they also reported seeing javies and game - too dark now for action, but a much better portent of good things to come!

Around 6am or so the hunting party camo'd up again, 2 and 4 person groups formed, and JC rode shotgun to Terry while Kevin and I rode the back seats of our big Ford truck rental. We headed back to the hub area, look for new signs of game and to get ready for the morning critter movement - at least that's the way the last Texas Sweat happened, where game was abundant in front of and behind vehicles cruising the senderos. We drove around and around, hitting lotsa different senderos and sprinkling corn on key road areas.

Nothing. No hogs, no javelinas. Hmmm, what's going on? The March Texas Sweat was like "Javie/Hog Central", with bustling game literally everywhere. Well, back in March it was very hot, very dry, and no rain - that probably kept the game on the move, making for frequent treks to the watering holes. Here at the end of May, there was lots of water left from an unusually heavy 5" rainfall a few weeks back. With water just about everywhere (and we saw that for a fact), the critters just didn't have a need to constantly move. At least that's one logical theory.

On the way back down to the fenced and gated hub area, one of the fellers spotted a big jack rabbit hopping about a very sparsely bushed open but fenced in area. JC got out and began a stalk around one side of the field whilst I stalked close the fence area. I saw three jacks in all and though they were nervous about the truck, I don't think they spotted the hunters that exited and were on their trail. Two jacks got wired and hopped off in spurts of high gear while one big feller hung out around some of small bushes, "hiding out". I stalked him and got pretty close, then he got nervous and sped off to my right and settled down next to another small bush. I stalked him again, keeping low to the sand, watching where I put my hands to avoid any prickly stuff. Again he took off, this time to my left, about 25 yards away. I used a low bush for partial concealment, drew back an already nocked shaft, took careful aim and he jumped the string - and I mean "jumped!" - dang, those jacks are *fast*! My consolation was a good feeling of a pretty close stalk on that jack, but no meat for camp.

We got back into the truck and drove a short way, past the hub gates and fences, and spotted another jack in yet another fairly open field. As I recall, JC and Kevin took off together, scouting around the fences, while Terry and I took off after that lone jack. I got the honor of this stalk as well, while Terry was snapping pix, and eventually I crept up to less than 20 yards, with the jack just behind a small bush. I drew back the pre-nocked Hex Pine arrow with Ace Express broadhead, held at full draw while I took careful aim on speck of fur on the shoulder area of Mr. Jack that was visible through the brush, and released. Close but no cigar as the broadhead deflected off a bit of the bush. I stayed down low and made no other movement.

The jack bolted to my right, over a dirt mound and under a barbed wire fence and into an adjoining fairly open field. Down low on in the sand, I could just about see his ear tops over the long mound of dirt that held up the wire fence. He was a good 40 yards away, and I started yet another down-low stalk that eventually got me again within 20 yards of the jack. I drew back the wooden shaft, and my aim was dead on as the arrow sailed right through where the rabbit was - yep, jumped the string again. JC and Kevin had just entered the field from my right and witnessed the disappearance of the jack. Again, another good stalk, but no kill, so the day ended for me at: jack rabbits 3, Rob nada.

There were some shots on jacks and bunnies, but no game was taken, and as the super hot sun started burning holes in our bodies we mounted up and wheeled back to camp for some late morning vitals, and get rested up for the evening adventures.

Much to my delight I paired up for the evening with Curtis and we drove out to the "corral" site. We parked in sparsely bushed open field next to the fenced in areas and scouted around a local pond. It was early and there were rabbits all around so we decided to bunny hunt while waiting for the real evening action (we hoped!) to arrive.

We shuffled through the more open thorn bush and cacti areas and Curtis smartly whacked one dumb bunny who thought sitting under a prickly pear made him invisible. Then he shot at another bunny, and skewered it through the butt and out the shoulder using a 3 blade broadhead. Now, that rabbit took off like bat outta hell and was gone in a New York second, lost in the bush. By all that's logical, that rabbit should have been dead as the arrow had to have penetrated all the vitals. Yep, darn tough Texas rabbits all righty.

This particular area was a meeting place of a North/South and East/West senderos, and at that juncture was a fenced in corral area to one side, and a fair amount of near open ground dotted with a few small bushes on the other side, which is where Curtis had parked. Looking way up the North road, perhaps way more than a thousand yards away, Curtis glassed a huge lone hog feeding right on the sendero and he decided to try for a stalk, while I began a walk towards East on the adjoining sendero in an attempt to find game.

I paced off no more than 50 yards when I spotted 2 hogs near the top of the road's highest crest, I guess about 300 yards away. So I started a stalk along the North side of the East/West road, sneaking from bush to bush, and thankful that I was downwind as there was a goodly breeze directly out of the East. At about 150 yards away, the bush on my stalking North side of the sendero ended in a large, low spit of sand - no cover at all. Across the road from the sand area was an opening in the barbed wire fence and it looked like the bush on that side was sparse with room to maneuver around the thorn bushes. I watched the hogs and when their heads went down to feed on the road corn I hunkered over on all fours and slowly 'grazed' over to the other roadside. It worked perfectly and the hogs weren't the least bit concerned.

However, after about 30 yards the sparse bush on the road's south side closed up to wall of thorn bushes. Not good. Now what to do? No choice, I had to cross back over the road, and get past the 20 yards of open sand and over to the bushes just beyond it. Again, watching the hogs, I kept my head down and slowly took my time to cross the road - if I saw the hogs look up, I froze, and when their heads went down or faced away I continued the long shuffle to the bush on the other roadside. I was lucky and made it over without alarming the piggies. After another 50 yards or so I noticed there were really 5 hogs - a big black boar, a black spotted brown sow, and 3 gray little piglets - all feeding on the corn we'd spread out on the way down to the corral.

Well, with about 60 yards left to go, the sheltering nooks and crannies of the bush finally gave out on the North side and I had to make another diagonal move across the sendero where there were two small branches of mesquite bush overhanging the fence and about 3 feet into the road. By now the daylight was giving way to the low evening light, and that coupled with being downwind allowed me to once again cross over to the other side and the safety of the bush.

The last 40 yards of the stalk were painfully slow and took the better part of nearly a half hour. With the light almost gone, I was less than 20 yards away from the sow, who was right in the middle of the lane and a bit higher than my position as she was nearer the crest. I could make out her outline and see a bit of her hide as I drew back the Hex Pine arrow, picked as small a spot as I could imagine, and released. A spark flew up on the trail as the arrow deflected off a road rock and skipped off to a tree base. As best I can gather, the arrow went just under the hog's belly. I kept my hidden position as the whole hog family lit their afterburners and skidaddled off.

While I was crestfallen over the blown shot, I was elated on the long and successful stalk - it was a thrill to get so close the game. Walking back to the truck I found Curtis smiling - he had watched my stalking action after returning from his hog stalk. As we drove back to the ranch house, one thought kept looping in my gray matter - I'll be back!

My first day hunting with Charlie and boy was I stoked! Hunting with the Master, how cool is that? We saddled up in Charlie's truck and took off ... yep, back to the corral. On the way we checked for signs, and corned the sendero. I told Charlie of my stalk there last night and that I was hoping those pigs would come back. We parked nearby the corral, in the more open area, and since it was pretty early we cased the place out and did a bit of bunny hunting. I think Charlie got at least a few, I didn't connect on any.

Charlie wanted to go up the North/South sendero, where Curtis had been, and I'd walk the East/West road, looking for a return of yesterday evening's hogs. We parted with much hope, and I started slowly walking the North edge of the road, wind in my face out of the NorEast. I didn't get very far when I spotted a large black hog maybe 500 yards up on the sendero ridge, rooting around the road corn. I started my slow stalk East. The hog seemed a bit jittery, wandering all over the ridge area - sometimes in view, sometimes out. Then another fat, muddy black hog stepped out of the bush onto the sendero about 100 yards or so closer to me. I slowly continued my downwind stalk and a good 100 yards or so from the first muddy black hog, but he lit out back into the bush. I managed to get a little closer to the high ridge hog, but was stopped when I hit that open sand pit area and had to cross the sendero to the South side, under the barbed wire fence.

I could only go so far and hit that wall of bush. Drat! If all that dense spikey bush wasn't there, I'd be able to creep in real close to that pig for a nice shot. He was still up on the ridge, but also seemed a bit jittery. So I made a decision to see if I could hack a crawl way through those prickles and get closer for a good shot. If only I had a pair of cutters (mental note: NEVER go on a SoTx hunt without pruning shears!), so instead I used a nice new Helle knife to slowly whittle off thorn bush limbs and make an entrance into that living hell.

Approaching the brush wall I saw a fat bunny at its edge. Arrow to string, string to eye, a fine loose and the deed is done. Surprisingly, that was a fairly quick kill. But I wanted bigger game and had that hog on my mind, so I draped the bunny over the fence post and continued to hack out a sendero side trail. After about 20 yards, the bush wall gave way to a small game trail the pigs and javies used to travel South to the pond near the corral. I just about crawled to within 30 yards of the ridge - just in time to see the black hog trot off into the bush. Dang! Well, at least I now had a private side road to wander up and down the sendero in seclusion, and it was downwind all the way.

I squatted down low and eased over to the strung barbed wired, stuck my head under the bottom wire and took a look Westward, down the sendero ... a javelina was grazing the road corn a coupla hundred yards away! I scooted real fast through my private trail way and as I neared the feeding javie I could hear it snorting while it crunched away on the corn kernels. Ever so slowly I stalked closer to a thorn bush that grew around and through a fence post and barbed wire. 20 yards, 15 yards, 10 yards ... soon I was no more than 7 yards away from the jet black javie boar, who was facing away from me, slightly quartering to the right. Kneeling on the ground, keeping my eyes barely covered by my camo cap, making ultra slow movements to lift up my bow arm, clasp my tab around the 14 strand Dacron string, getting ready for the draw, totally focused on the javie's rib cage just behind his elbow, when ... I heard a coyote call coming directly from across the sendero.

A real hoot 'n' holler followed, with at least a few coyotes screaming and crying. Didn't seem to bother the javie much at first, and I figured to give it a few seconds to settle back down to corn munching and maybe it would offer up a bit better side shot when, zing! the javie's back neck hackles went up and he wheeled around and quickly scooted *towards* me, under the barbed wire and on the other side of the thorn bush. He ended up about 25 yards away under mesquite, but was nervous and agitated - I quickly drew back, took quick aim, let fly. Too late, that critter was off and running and the shaft ended up in the mesquite, right where he had just been standing. DANG!

I waited a bit, then got up, shaking my head. I was so close to this javie that I considered it dead meat, a done kill. Now, nothing left but the vivid memory of a good stalk. Heart wrenching, I tell ya. I walked a hundred yards or so back to the corral area, checked out the "tank" again for sign, walked over to the field, watching Charlie do some "bunny roving". Charlie had an idea, a haunt to revisit, a pond where he had harvested a big hog during the last Texas Sweat.

A short ride later we parked off the main road, went over the wire fence and took a slow walk down to the pond. Along the way we took some shots at bunnies and Charlie connected with one and propped it up in a tree by the pond for picking up later. I circled around to the South side and slowly walked through the brush when 30 yards ahead of me a big ol' black hog came crashing through the brush, fleeing the pond and scooted into the bush. I continued to scout around that side of the big pond while Charlie worked the pond's ridge dam. I found lotsa signs and trails - this place is in constant use by both hogs and javies.

I circled back and caught up with Charlie who had just sighted a javie cruising below the ridge, but no luck to draw it out in the open. We stalked around, sighting a few bunnies, walked back to the Charlie's truck and drove it past the gate to the pond, and Charlie began setting up a still hunt area right at the pond's edge, under a large tree. In the meanwhile, I was back at the truck, dressing out Charlie's rabbit. Charlie keeps a cooler full of ice and after dressing out and watering down a bunny, he slips it into a ZipLock bag and stows the bag in an ice cooler. I like that!

It was getting late, around 11am, and we drove back down to the corral sendero and corned the ridge. The evening's game plan was for me to work the corral ridge while Charlie still hunted in his spot by the pond. Okay, back to the house and get some good lunch!

Charlie and I drove back to the corral sendero around 6:30pm, and he dropped me off a few hundred yards from the road ridge where I'd had the most interaction with hogs. The game plan was for me to hunt the road and ridge, hoping to ambush a hog feeding on our corn, while Charlie drove over to his newly constructed pond "blind" and maybe get a shot at a hog or javie coming down for a drink or wallow. He'd swing back for me after dark, and that meant about 3 hours of concentrated hunting for each of us.

I cautiously walked up to the road ridge and checked the corn we'd sprinkled out in the late morning - yep, still there, untouched. I went under the barbed wire fence that was strung up on the South side of the sendero and slowly worked my way down that side trail I had hacked out earlier, that paralleled the roadway. I went hundreds of yards down, past where I'd seen the last of the game on that road (the javie from that morning).

I looked East, way up the road where I'd just been, and felt the downwind breeze in my face. I looked to the So'West and saw the sun slowly beginning its descent - in an hour or so, game would be stirring. Everything was in order, everything was in place for a good evening hunt. All the pieces of this puzzle that I'd been working on since Saturday evening's hunt with Curtis had now interlocked, and the picture formed was that of a dead critter.

I hunkered down behind some cacti and thorns, hidden from any sendero travelers, and patiently waited ... a half hour ... one hour ... two hours. It was now around 8:30pm, and it was quickly getting *real* dark. I saw no game save for quail - they were all around me, some as close as a longbow length away. I didn't see any hogs or javies. Where are the critters? I didn't even see a single rabbit - unusual for this area.

By now it was quite dark. Thankfully, I had accepted Charlie's offer of one of his mini headband LED flashlights, and I strapped it over my cap and began a very long, slow walk back to the main road - ever vigilant for sendero snakes; nope, didn't see any - and awaited Charlie's arrival. The walk proved the area wasn't totally devoid of game as I spooked a lone rabbit and several deer. I have no idea why the hogs and javies didn't show up this evening. Charlie's story was similar and we consoled ourselves with thoughts of a good evening's meal back at the ranch house.

I absolutely had a fabulous time! I've never met nor hunted with a finer bunch of fellows. The Laguna Ranch accommodations were more than I expected and the food served was a pure delight. My sincere compliments to host Jerry and his crew! Our hunting party killed two javelinas and lost one to the bush, killed a large jack rabbit and bagged somewhere in the neighborhood of two dozen bunnies. All the game killed was immediately dressed, butchered and either eaten that day by the hunters and ranch hands, or stored in a large walk-in freezer for future meals. While I didn't harvest a hog, javelina or jack, I had some truly memorable stalks and managed to at least bag a rabbit each day. At least I wasn't gonna starve!

The geography is hostile, the climate is hotter'n hell, the critters are tough - I can't wait to go back next year!