Javelina: Arizona’s Big Lie


We’ve been in Tucson for exactly one week. We’ve gone out every day – morning, evening, all day long – and every time we’re out we scan the desert’s scrub, the washes, and the roadsides for javelina. Today, we’ve finally accepted the fact that these fat, smelly animals are a lie, and do not exist. At all.

“They’re everywhere!” people assured us. “They get into my trash bins,” one man said. Signs at Pima Air and Space Museum warned us we might encounter some. But we didn’t. Why? Because they don’t exist.

You “may,” but you won’t.

Like the illusive jackalope, they’re a myth perpetrated on gullible tourists. You, like us, probably saw jackalope in backwoods diners, their antlered bunny heads hanging on the wall like some rare and desirable trophy. And you, like us, probably believed –oh, innocent you! – they could, maybe, be real.


There was a time when sailors making years-long voyages believed they were seeing mermaids, and told their loved ones back home about these sirens of the sea. What embarrassment they must have felt when those who took to the water for short excursions only found manatees.


We share that shame, having rejoiced at seeing herds of javelina that simply fell under the category of wishful thinking. Each time, they’ve turned out to be brown, barrel-shaped cactuses.

Not javelina.

And, like manatees and mermaids, that’s probably exactly how the not-trueness of javelinas got started. They’re both brown and prickly, and you don’t want to get too close to them when you’re out hiking in the desert.

We didn’t want to draw the only logical conclusion (javelina = lie) so Simon suggested we make double use of a visit to Seguaro National Park West, which we hadn’t seen yet, and enjoy the park as evening drew close, then stay on until dusk; prime javelina hours.

We made a point of asking for expert advice when we reached the park’s Visitor Center, four minutes before it closed. Where, for the love of gawd, should we go to see the illusive herbivore that looks like a pig but isn’t?

Perfect javelina territory. No javelinas.

“Just go right out to the overlook here,” our good man told us, pointing at a second-story platform connected to the center. “They travel up and down the wash just beyond it in the evening.”

Plenty of room for a stampede.

Yay! Finally – FINALLY! – our dream of achieving this precious sighting would come true!

Binoculars and cameras at the ready, we marveled at the sunset that lit up the sky like fire in the direction of California and Mexico, while scanning the wash for activity.


An hour later it was so dark we couldn’t have seen a javelina even if it really did exist. The lie was revealed.

Sure, we saw a “dead” one along the highway on our way to San Xavier del Bac Mission, but it was probably just a stuffed toy thrown out the car window by some careless child. We no longer believed.

We have one more week in Tucson, but frankly, our hearts are hardened. There is only so much pain and disappointment we can take.

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Author: A Year on the Road

International travel writers and book authors.

4 thoughts on “Javelina: Arizona’s Big Lie”

  1. I think you dodged a bullet…. I just read about a javelins attack in Tucson on Fox 10 news Phoenix …… in March ! It may still be there !!!!!!

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  2. I have friends who have lived in Tucson for a long time; when they first moved there, they rented an apartment which had a small ravine/gully nearby. We saw javelinas use it as a pathway. The looked like some sort of pig; they smelled of strong (and I mean strong) urine. This was about 25 years ago, so maybe they have disappeared since then. Judy

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    1. Supposedly they’re everywhere! We’re just not seeing them. We did talk to one person yesterday who said she’s lived here (Deming, New Mexico) for five years and only seen one once, but everyone else seems to see them all the time.
      We do keep looking, we’re just being snarky because we’ve failed so badly.

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