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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.
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R hunted with his camera and shot a pomegranate and it’s blossom
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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!
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R shot a midnight crested Heron and didn’t even attempt a retrieve.
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I never got tired of hunting the elusive gecko.

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

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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.

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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.

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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.
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Since I couldn’t get their goat.

 

 

 

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