I really liked riding up this way on the Motorbike a lot better. The truck on those hairpin inclines is so nauseating.
But the hunting was SO worth it!

There was no sanctary for the geckos I panted after. Not at San Javier.

imageBlending in with the ancient ones.    Microfiber in camo.

R hunted with his camera and shot a pomegranate and it’s blossom
And I vamoose after my very first mexican squirrel! J insisted I do not follow him into the garden when he squeezed through a hole in the leaning wood fence. SHEESH!
R shot a midnight crested Heron and didn’t even attempt a retrieve.
I never got tired of hunting the elusive gecko.


Ron caught another flower so thorny it could’ve caught him.


The little kangaroo rats were terribly exciting! little furry things that hide under the impossible rocks just like those geckos! how I would like to get just ONE!

I fell in the water. J and R laughed. Nobody told me that mossy stuff on the water wasn’t solid underneath. I would’ve pretended it was intentional, but it was far too obvious I’d been duped by the unfamiliar terrain.


And what REALLY made my day was catching that deer. I held him down for R and J but they hollered at me and said something crazy about it being a People deer. SHIT. I’m not allowed to get people cats either.


They didn’t stay mad though. Who could on such a perfect day? The last thing they found was a bottle with no paper on it and a handmade cork. They bought it by the church. I am so not interested. They are quite happy about it, but I would have preferred to score a really big gecko.

Since I couldn’t get their goat.




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