John and I pulled up to Baker 3 Ranch and I knew this hunt was different from anything I’d done before. His church runs an annual hunt there, and it’s not about putting heads on walls—it’s about depth, challenge, and real bowhunting.

My first year was 2023. John brought me into it, and the second I got there, I understood why he talks about this place with so much respect. The ranch sits in rocky country, the animals are wild axis and blackbuck, and the hunt itself is a multi-day commitment with real challenge built into every stalk.

Scouting and Setting Up

Episode one was about getting oriented and laying the groundwork for the hunts to come. John and I spent the first day hiking the washes, placing Moultrie trail cameras at water holes and key spots, and looking for signs—rubs, tracks, water holes where axis come in to drink.

We heard axis roaring in the distance. That’s not a sound you hear from whitetail or elk. It’s unique, sharp, and wild. We moved toward the sound, trying to locate where the bucks were bedding. The terrain is all rock and creosote, so noise discipline matters. Every footfall on the rocks is a potential give-away.

We found a good water hole, set up a camera, and moved into some shade to gllass and listen. The afternoon wore on and we heard more roars. We knew the animals were in the area.

There’s just something special about this hunt that is way more in depth than killing a giant bull on a side of a mountain.

As light started getting thin, I spotted a buck across a clearing—about 100 yards away. I made my move, repositioned toward some better trees to close distance. But in moving to get a better position, I stood up and there he was—a good axis buck right across the water. I drew back and sent an arrow. Clean miss. That’s the hunt right there. Not the story I wanted to start with, but that’s what happens when you hunt wild animals with a bow.

What Baker 3 Really Is

This hunt isn’t about guaranteed success or trophy guarantees. It’s about being in rugged terrain, making long stalks on wary wild animals, and learning to hunt without a net. We’ve got more episodes coming. Animals will hit the ground. Decisions will be made. The hunt will unfold like it really does in the field, not like a highlight reel.

If you want to see what commitment to archery and wild country looks like, Episode 2 shows where this led. And if you’re hunting javelina in similar terrain, Texas hunts teach the same lessons about stalking and pressure.

Getting new gear in the mail is exciting. Trusting it with your hunt is something else entirely. Let me break down what I’m looking at with the Thorn Crown broadhead.

What’s in the Box

The Crown is a fixed-blade broadhead, which puts it in the same category as the Tooth of the Arrow and other traditional options. Out of the box, the blades are sharp, the point is true, and the construction looks clean. No flash, no unnecessary complexity—just a broadhead designed to do one thing and do it right.

Thorn’s design is straightforward. Fixed blades mean no deployment sequence to worry about. You practice with field points that fly the same way, and your form translates directly to your hunting setup. That’s the fixed-blade philosophy.

Testing and Confidence

I’ll be taking the Crown to the field to see how it performs on actual hunts. That’s where a broadhead gets tested—not in videos, not in your garage, but in the moment when you draw back and execute.

A broadhead is only worth what it proves in the field, not what it looks like when you unbox it.

I’ve tested the Rage Hypodermic for mechanical reliability and the Tooth of the Arrow for fixed-blade performance. The Thorn Crown is another option in the fixed-blade space, and bowhunters need choices. More updates as I hunt with these and learn what they’re really capable of.

Once you’ve made your shot, the hunt isn’t over—it’s shifted into a different gear. That’s what you see here: the recovery.

Tracking a whitetail after a good hit requires patience and attention. Every drop of blood, every disturbed leaf tells a story. You move slow, you listen, and you let the sign guide you. This is where bow hunting demands respect for the animal—you’re not sprinting through the woods looking for a quick find. You’re moving with purpose and care.

This 2018 buck was a reward for the hours spent in the stand, the early mornings, the wind checks, and the discipline to wait for the right moment. The recovery is the final part of that respect. It’s you honoring the work the animal made you do to earn him.

Meat on the table, a story to tell, and lessons learned about what it takes to be a bowhunter in Texas. That’s what these recoveries mean.

Check out my first archery kill and axis hunts for more on the pursuit.

Javelina aren’t like any other game animal. They’re tough, aggressive, and they’ll teach you about pressure if you hunt them with a bow.

Texas javelina hunting requires a different mindset than whitetail or exotic game. You’re not hunting for a wall hanger. You’re hunting because the animal is there, the challenge is real, and you want to test yourself against something that doesn’t care about your experience level or how much you’ve invested in your setup.

Reading Wind and Terrain

Javelina move in groups, and they’re alert. Wind matters absolutely. You can be good at stalking, but if the wind is wrong, it doesn’t matter. I scout the approach, figure out where the group is headed, and work to intercept them before they catch my scent.

The terrain in Texas javelina country is brush, cactus, and open spaces. There’s no sneaking through thick cover. You’re either spotted or you’re not. When you find a group, you have one move—maybe two if you’re lucky.

Why Javelina Matter

This hunt teaches precision and confidence under pressure. At 20 to 30 yards with a bow on a collared pig, your shot has to be clean. You can’t afford a bad hit. That pressure is good. It strips away the ego and makes you focus on execution.

Javelina hunting with a bow isn’t about trophies. It’s about testing yourself as a bowhunter.

The skills you build stalking javelina carry into every other hunt. Arizona offers similar terrain and similar challenges, and the precision you develop transfers to exotic game hunting too.

Fixed-blade broadheads are simple. No moving parts, no deployment sequence, just steel doing what steel has done for centuries. The Tooth of the Arrow is built on that principle, and sometimes simple is better.

Fixed Blades vs Mechanical

Here’s the choice every bowhunter makes at some point: Do you want a broadhead that flies like your field points and stays simple, or do you want mechanical blades that deploy on impact for a bigger wound channel?

A fixed blade flies more like your field points, which means if your form is solid and you practice with field points, your accuracy transfers directly to your hunting broadheads. There’s no surprise deployment, no moving parts to worry about failing in cold weather or on impact.

The Tooth of the Arrow represents the fixed-blade approach. Sharp out of the box, built solid, and designed by people who understand that simple sometimes wins.

Fixed blades have been hunting forever because they work, and the Tooth of the Arrow carries that forward without apology.

Building Your Broadhead Arsenal

I’ve tested both sides of this argument. The Rage Hypodermic is my mechanical choice for maximum energy transfer, and the Tooth of the Arrow represents the fixed-blade option for hunters who want simplicity and proven performance. Thorn is another fixed-blade option worth considering. The more you hunt, the more you understand that every broadhead type has situations where it shines.

Connect With Me

If this review helped you make a better broadhead decision, do me a favor:

• Subscribe to American Country Outdoors on YouTube for real hunts with real gear.
• Follow @kirtbox on Instagram and send me a DM — I answer.
• Read my Rage Hypodermic review if you want the mechanical side of the comparison.
• Brands — if you make gear worth testing, reach out on Instagram. I hunt first, write second, and I’ll tell you honestly what worked.

I got him. The moment the arrow flew true and hit home, everything else just stopped mattering. This is the story of my first archery whitetail buck — the shot, the wait, and the recovery that made me a real bowhunter.

The Shot

There’s that split second of pure adrenaline — your heart’s pounding, you’re shaking, and the reality of what just happened hits you all at once. But then the work starts. You can’t just celebrate; you’ve got to get down, track that deer, and do right by the animal you’ve taken.

Tracking the Blood Trail

That recovery hike hits different. You’re looking for blood sign, reading the ground, moving careful because you know every step matters. This is where everything you’ve learned about reading deer movement, understanding where an animal’s likely to go, and staying calm comes into play.

When you find him, there’s gratitude mixed with the adrenaline. You thank him for the meat, for the opportunity, for the hunt that got you there. That’s what separates hunting from just shooting.

Becoming a Real Bowhunter

This is the moment I realized I’d become a real bowhunter. Not because I’d made a good shot — plenty of hunters make good shots. But because I understood what came after, and I was ready for it.

For the follow-up story years later, read about my 2018 Texas archery buck recovery — same feeling, more experience, same respect for the animal.

Connect With Me

If this story resonated, here’s how to follow the rest of my bowhunting journey:

• Subscribe to American Country Outdoors on YouTube — every hunt, start to finish.
• Follow @kirtbox on Instagram and DM me — I answer.
• Read my 2018 archery buck recovery for the next chapter.
• Brands — if you make gear worth hunting with, reach out on Instagram. I hunt first, write second.

Javelina are a different animal entirely. They’re smaller than you think, tougher than you expect, and they move fast. Arizona bowhunting for javelina tests everything you know about stalking and the pressure of the shot.

Desert hunting is exposed. There’s no sneaking through thick cover. You’re walking open country where every movement shows. The wind is constant and brutal. The heat is relentless. And when you find a group of javelina, you have one good move before they’re gone or they’ve smelled you.

The Stalk

I spotted a group and immediately read the wind. The prevailing current was moving across the group toward the brush on the far side. They were moving through country where the nearest cover was maybe 50 yards away. I had to circle wide, work in from the side, and close distance without being seen.

Every step matters in this situation. The rocks roll under your feet. The animals are hyper-alert to movement. You can’t just walk down a draw and expect them not to see you. This is precision stalking, and if you’re sloppy, it’s over.

When I got close enough—maybe 25 yards—I drew back and executed. That’s javelina hunting with a bow. There’s no second chance if you wound them wrong. They’ll charge, they’ll come at you, and you have to be confident in your ability to make a lethal shot.

Javelina hunting with a bow isn’t about trophies. It’s about challenging yourself against an animal that doesn’t care about your skill level.

Why Javelina Hunt with a Bow

Javelina aren’t about trophy hunting. They’re about challenging yourself against an animal that doesn’t care about your skill level or how much you’ve spent on your gear. They care about wind, terrain, and whether you can make a shot when it counts. My Texas javelina bowhunt offers the same challenge, and gear selection matters when you’re this close to a tough animal — see my Rage Hypodermic broadhead review for what I shoot.

Connect With Me

If this Arizona javelina story got you planning a hunt, here’s how to stay in touch:

• Subscribe to American Country Outdoors on YouTube — desert hunts, exotic hunts, and every tag I fill.
• Follow @kirtbox on Instagram and DM me your stalk stories.
• Read my Texas javelina bowhunt for a different state, same challenge.
• Brands in the archery or desert-hunting space — reach out on Instagram. I hunt first, write second.

I drew back and released. That perfect shot—the one every archer lives for—finally happened.

Axis deer are crafty. They’ve got keen senses and they know the land like we know our own yards. But that morning, everything lined up the way it should. The wind was right, the stalk was clean, and when the moment came, I trusted my form and my gear.

There’s something sacred about the ethical take. It’s not just about the animal—though I respect every single one. It’s about the work that goes into it: the practice, the hours of scouting, the patience waiting for the right moment. My Victory Archery arrows flew true, and that’s what matters.

This is why I hunt. Not for the glory or the photos (though they’re nice). It’s for that one moment when everything clicks and you know you’ve done it right.

Check out my other Texas exotic hunts and archery kill stories to see more of what bow hunting means to me.