It was a hot February afternoon in southern Arizona. The gnats were doing their best job at being pests. It was my last chance this season to bag the elusive (at least for me) collared peccary. Days of glassing had proved unproductive. This was a last-ditch effort.

There was a promising berm directly in front of me. It was a blimp on the GPS. Maybe water? I tried to sneak over, but just as I topped there was the unmistakable “woof” of a startled javelina, and then a streak of gray as my quarry glided away into the thick cover of a mesquite bosque. I looked for more, but this one appeared to be alone. Yup! They made a fool of me again. We had seen two on the first day, but they were too far away.

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