7 years and the curse is over - A Thank You

[upacreek]

After 7 years, the curse has been broken! I haven't posted much, but have read every bit of elk hunting info I could get my hands on. The wealth of information shared by members of this site is amazing and so I wanted to post my success and say thank you. The information shared here about scouting, vocalizations, elk habits, hunting tricks, things not to do, etc. is invaluable. I feel I've learned a ton over 7 years of chasing elk, but continue to put pieces of the puzzle together with shared information. A huge thank you to each of you.

Since I've learned so much from you, I thought sharing a few details of my own hunt might be useful to some folks and act as a bit of a payback. This is a bit long, so I apologize ahead of time.

My buddy Brendan flew out from Boston to help with this hunt. I was planning a wilderness backpack hunt that I knew I didn't want to do solo. That's a sign of a good friend - ready to put in a ton of effort for the rewards of adventure, friendship and possibly elk steaks.

Day 1: We started the trip by climbing up to a flattish spot at 10,000 ft that had water and looked to have access to several nice basins above it. A cold rain on the way in got us damp, and then the snow started.

Day 2: By morning there were a few inches of snow around. Condensation was terrible since we pitched the floorless tent over soggy earth. We decided to use the wood stove to dry out sleeping bags and gear before heading out to look for elk. It was killing me to not be hunting on our first morning, but I told myself to be patient, take care of ourselves and camp, and the hunting would come. Later that day, we climbed up through deepening snow to a ridge at 12,000 ft and had an amazing view, but didn't see the elk we hoped. The only elk we saw, and only tracks we cut were a cow headed down valley to lower elevations. Back at camp that night, we faced a serious debate - do we follow our gut and head down too, looking for better conditions? Do we stick it out here since we worked so hard to get here and have only spent one afternoon? We decided to follow our gut and planned to head lower the next morning.

Day 3: We spent the morning packing up and heading a few miles deeper into the wilderness, this time down along the river. We were headed to a camp ~7 miles in, one that my dad has rifle elk hunted from for 35 years. I first stayed in that camp 23 years ago on my first elk hunting trip with my dad and grandpa. The significance and history of being in that area is a huge draw to me, elk or no. After setting up camp, we decided to take the afternoon and hike as far as we could up river, location bugling as we walked, just trying to hear a bugle. We didn't hear a thing. I kept thinking of the words of wisdom I'd read - cover ground until you find elk. Don't hunt where there aren't elk. We turned around at dark and walked back to camp. When we neared the meadow we were camped on, I let out a final bugle from camp. Miraculously, a bull responded from a few hundred yards above camp in the direction we hoped to go in the morning. Game on!

Day 4: We woke early, full of anticipation of the hunt. Finally a morning to hunt, and the possibility of elk no less. We got ready, gathered our food and I bugled another time in the dark from camp. The bull responded again - the same place as the night before. I flashed back to Elknut saying how if you can find elk at night, they'll likely be in the same spot in the morning. Oh man, we were like kids in a candy shop. It was too early, and we were too close. All we could do was talk through possible scenarios and wait for more daylight. The wind was perfect, coming from the bull and sweeping down through the aspens toward us. We climbed in the dark just enough to get to a similar elevation and where the aspens mixed with pines for a bit of cover. As it got light, I bugled again and he responded quickly with a bugle and chuckles. I cow called a couple of times as Brendan quickly moved 50 yards behind me and just over a rise. I started to move forward to find a spot to set up. (Stupid, stupid - I know better than to be calling before I'm set up!). I heard branches breaking and nocked an arrow. I looked up and he's at 35 yards and closing straight at me. At 25 he stops behind a tree and waits, looking for the cows he'd heard but couldn't see. I was stuck in the semi-open and didn't want to make a sound. Minutes passed like hours. He turned to leave so I gave one cow call back toward Brendan, who got the hint. He started cow calling a little and it was all the bull needed to hear. He continued on, circling 25 yards below me. I was at full draw when he stepped into the open and stopped, turning to look my way. I released my arrow and he exploded downhill with incredible speed and energy. I didn't see the hit, though it felt good at the shot.

Next is where things got dicey and a mixture of thoughtful decision making and luck came together for us. A couple of minutes after the shot, I snuck back to meet up with B. He's a new bow hunter and has read just enough to know what I should be doing, despite my own best efforts to sabotage myself. He said let's wait 45 minutes - I thought that sounded like about 44 too many. He kept me talking and distracted for those long minutes - wow, I couldn't have been that patient, though I knew I should be. Amazing how your perspective can change like that. We went back to where the bull was when I shot and found nothing. Not a hair, no blood, nothing. I was heartbroken. I've been through this with just enough deer though, to know that this can be a crazy process and things aren't always as they appear. We followed his tracks 20 yards downhill looking for any sign of a hit. I looked up to scan the woods and see an elk walking at 100+ yards. It was my bull. Oh no, this is not at all the way I wanted this to go. I sat down quickly to watch him - looking for clues. He was walking slowly, stopping a lot, watching his back trail. He must be hurt, I thought. It wasn't normal elk behavior. I could see the side that I shot and didn't see any sign of a hit though. Then, Brendan pointed to my arrow 10 ft in front of me. It was the back half and looked to have penetrated to a little more than 1/2 the arrow, then broken off. The blood was dry, but looked red like I would hope for. None of this was making sense. We watched the bull for the next 30 min as he slowly walked up to a small ridge and out of sight.

We decided we need to back out for a long time. I was racking my brain as to what it could mean, how long to wait. We decided to give it 4 more hours. My only thought was that I could have possibly gotten only one lung and I remembered horror stories of how long they can go this way. We went back to camp in a state of shock. I ate while Brendan killed time by making a flyrod out of an aspen sapling. We went to the river to fish, though I was anything but relaxed and happy. The minutes were creeping by and all I wanted was that bull, dead. I try so hard to make things work the way that I know they can, but I hadn't done that this time.

Finally, the 4 hours had passed and it was time to look again. We began a very slow sneak toward where we had last seen the bull. As I got about 40 yards from that spot, I saw movement. It was the bull - he was bedded and looking around. I tried to range him, but then he stood up. I managed to draw and shoot, but missed low, sending the bull running down the hill. He stopped in the open at 75 yards, well beyond where I want to shoot, but I knew he needed another arrow and thought I could make the shot. My next shot was low, but he didn't move. I took my 4th of 5 arrows and shot again, compensating for my last low shot. I heard the arrow hit him, but couldn't tell where. The bull didn't move.

I started to nock my last arrow but Brendan got my attention and quickly suggest that a 75 yard shot may not be the best use of my last arrow - thank you! I watched the bull for 10 minutes and he stood, not moving at all. He was clearly hurt and couldn't go far. I decided my best option was to circle down hill, around a stand of pines and stalk in close. After circling, I got within 40 yards again, but the bulls vitals were blocked. He still didn't move. I knew it was a roll of the dice, but I felt like I'd read Elknut talk about going straight at a bull in this position to try and end it quickly. I began going straight toward the bull, quietly, stealthily, but with purpose. At 25 yards, the bull moved to turn up the hill and I was able to get a final good shot angling into the lungs the way I wanted it. The bull crashed off downhill in a final burst, ending in a pileup that I could hear but not see. The emotions began to flood out of control. The most tedious of days was over. I don't know if I was happier to have ended the too-long day for the bull, or to have finally realized my own evasive goal of an elk with my bow. Either way, I was a wreck. I think it was cnelk that said to enjoy the part of having an elk on the ground because the real work is about to begin. How true. We boned out the bull and got it back to camp without much problem that evening.

Day 5: The next day, two of my dad's friends came in to help pack the bull out. We enjoyed some fire-roasted tenderloin, then began the 7 mile pack. Those guys, 30 years my elder were making me look slow and weak - I loved it. There is something special about the sweat, the aches, and the passing congratulations of folks on the trail as you pack your bull off the mountain on your back. How sweet are those steaks that have that trek as their beginning?

Day 6: The rain began again, and mixed with 40 degree temps wasn't exactly what we were hoping for. A mudslide across the road to the trailhead added 5 miles to our 14 mile round trip to get our camp. Somehow, the experience of having so much go right and to have a bull to show for it was all we needed to put one foot in front of the other, enjoy the view, the snow, and be thankful for the chance to take part in this incredible process.

[cnelk]

Nice going!
The first is always the toughest!

[JGH]

Quite a story ... good read.

What were the necropsy results? Where did your arrow(s) hit?

Congrats, and enjoy the steaks!

[ElkNut1]

Very very nice bud & great details to boot, congrats! Where did your 1st arrow hit the bull?

ElkNut1

[bnsafe]

congrats, first is always the best

[upacreek]

Thanks again guys. First arrow was right behind the shoulder, but low. It was maybe 6 inches up from the bottom of his chest. I was guessing that I just hit one lung?

[FreshPow]

Nice write-up.

[Huntography]

Awesome! Congrats on your well earned success.

Rudy

[Triplebhunters]

Congradulations. Story made me feel like I was right there tracking with you.