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The One That Got Away

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The One That Got Away

Postby Swede » 06 25, 2018 •  [Post 1]

Most or all of us have haunting memories of the one that got away. We were so close, but just could not make the kill. I have two stories of bulls that still bother me twenty plus years later. They are in addition to the ones I discovered on my trail cameras, that came in while I was visiting "the other stand location."

Oly and I were listening to a bull that was 200+ yards away. We wanted to move ahead to a good location to set up. All of a sudden the lead cow comes running our way with this monster bull following the herd of 10-12 cows. I did not know how to stop an elk let alone a whole herd running pell-mell for parts unknown. They were coming for a few seconds, closed to within 20 yards, but never slowed for a second. I think I could have stopped them today, but I don't know. We were too exposed. That bull is still one of two foremost in my memory for the big one that got away. :cry:

Another time at about 10:00 AM, I was sitting in my stand when I heard a bugle close by. The tree stand was about 30 feet elevation above the meadow I was near. The sound came from down the draw. He was probably 200 yards away at the time. I picked up my bow from the hanger, and slowly stood and waited. Within a minute or two, I saw this very large bull coming in to the wallow just below my stand. He had just one cow with him, so everything seemed perfect. They were steadily progressing forward, and within a few steps they would both clear the pole timber and be in my opening. They would be within shooting range by then. Still, I would wait a long as there was no hang up, which seemed unlikely. All of a sudden, a cold down draft hit me in the back. The sun was up, and that was the only down draft I had felt in over an hour. The elk stopped immediately, stood a couple of seconds, and then busted out of there. No shot was possible. :cry:

Some years ago (1990) there was a song about the "tear stained letter". These are some of mine. What can you contribute here to make an album?
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby WapitiTalk1 » 06 25, 2018 •  [Post 2]

This....is gonna be epic ;). I’ll get some up here soon.
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby Tigger » 06 26, 2018 •  [Post 3]

2 years ago in MT. I got a bull to answer from the top of the ridge and me and 2 buddies were on the bottom (all timber). He didn't seem to be coming too fast and we were exposed so we decided to close the distance. It was super steep and my 2 buddies were ahead and I was behind as the caller. They came to an ancient logging road and stopped as it was so steep from there and the bull was coming. I didn't realize they stopped and I came out between them on the same road. The bull stopped right above us and thrashed a tree. If I would have had my head up and saw that they had stopped, I could have retreated and called that bull right between them I am sure. But since I was stuck on that road I couldn't move back without being seen. He paused for awhile and then circled and the gig was up. I still kick myself for not watching my buddies more careful.
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby rvanbw00 » 06 26, 2018 •  [Post 4]

Tigger can corroborate this story, as he and his boys sat in as my therapists the day after it happened...

My brother-in-law and I planned to hunt a new direction following our first two unsuccessful days of chasing elk out west. We hiked to a bald knob and glassed a mountain on the opposing side of the valley. Not 30 seconds after raising my binos, I spot two cows grazing in an opening. With the wind blowing across the the face of the mountain that the elk stood on, we knew we had to swing down wind in order to keep it in our face upon our approach. After two hours of hiking and 1,800' of elevation gain, we arrived at the spot where we had last seen the cows. BIL dropped down the mountain 100 yds and we made our way in parallel across the face, cow calling back and forth. Immediately following our first calling sequence, we strike up a bull. It sounds as though he is closer to my elevation, and we slowly creep along the face of the mountain, keeping the wind in our favor.

The bull confirmed his elevation with the 3-4 subsequent bugles responding to our calls. Each bugle grew closer, and I knew he was fired up enough to come in and look for some love. I keep looking through the sparse vegetation, trying to identify an tine, ear flick, or any other form of movement that may give away his position, as I know that he has to be close. Just then, immediately above the horizon in front of me, I see a chocolaty "V" but nothing else. I raise my binos and realize that Im 50 yds from a wound up 320+ bull elk.

****PAUSE***

My BIL and I are two flat land whitetail hunters from Indiana. Prior to this trip, I had literally never set foot on a mountain. I saw a mountain once - when I was in Vegas, but I was too drunk to really remember it. I crossed the Mississippi river once - got about 50 miles into Iowa, then went back home.

At this point in time, Im on my 3rd day of bow hunting a species Ive never seen in the wild, 7,500 feet up a mountain in a state Ive never been to, with a (in my books) trophy elk 50 yds away on public land. Im doing everything I can to not sh*t my pants. This shouldn't be happening.

***UNPAUSE***

I realize that with my line of sight, I can only see the very tips of the bull's ears, and he has not yet seen me. I immediately drop to the ground and start looking for some back cover, as the bull is continuing to move along a path that will leave him 35 yds in front of me. I back up to get a bush behind me and the bull blasts out another long bugle (something Ill never forget). I realize that his path will take him quartering downhill between my and Bryant (BIL). Just then, the wind stops. It has now blown constantly for 3 hours straight, helping keep us cool and we bust ass up the mountain trying to reach the elevation of the elk. One major takeaway from this maiden trip into the mountains is that it seems that they 'breathe'. In this case, the mountain was done 'exhaling' and decided to 'inhale' -albeit for just a second. I knew that the reverse in wind would put this elk into the next state if he were to cross my stink, so I identified a 3' square opening bounded by limbs that I could shoot through if he were to stop with his vitals in it.

The bull continued his search for love down the path he was on and stopped right in the opening I had outlined. Already drawn back, I set 40 yds on his vitals and the moment I had been waiting for for nearly 2 years came to fruition. The arrow flew - a mild arch across the face of the slope, and I watched yellow fletchings disappear into the 'window' and abruptly change course downward. I immediately knew that my arrow had deflected, but in the sudden commotion didnt know if I had made contact with the animal. Not having hear the distinct hollow "thwack" associated with a cavity shot confirmed that.

I was suddenly consumed with emotion (imagine Stan Potts after killing a big buck). After regaining control of myself, I went to investigate the situation. If I had missed, fine, but my hope was that it was clean and left the bull unscathed. A short while later I recovered my arrow and confirming that it was clean miss, I reconvened with Bryant. I explained to him the series of events that took place, and we set down to eat and evaluate our situation.

Prior to our trip, I had changed arrow shafts and was shooting a much heavier arrow. Basic physics tells us that without more pressure pushing the heavier arrow, said arrow will arch much higher to meet the same point of impact. I was driving tacks with those things before we left, but failed to account for so much rise and fall as I planned my shot through the opening in the brush.

It was funny - after walking 3 hours back to camp in a downpour (only fitting after a miss like that), I explained to Bryant that we had planned for a year, driven 1,600 miles, hiked 45 miles, and the success or failure of that trip came down to 1 lousy inch.

In hindsight, we may have been spoiled with that much success on our first trip. Id sure like to have that bad boy hanging on the wall, but the memories we made that week will stick with us forever.

Now, back to planning Elk 2019.
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby Swede » 06 26, 2018 •  [Post 5]

Welcome to the W.T. forum Ryan. I had the same thing happen when I failed to account to the arch in my arrow trajectory once. The bull was not so big that it comes to mind when I think of the great ones that got away, but it would have made fine dinner on many winter's night.
Anyway, it is great to have you in camp here, and I hope your next hunt ends with some great Chuck Adams type pictures staring yourself.

SUNP0011.JPG
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BTW: I believe this is a picture of the bull in my second account. Hopefully the poor trail cam picture is enough to explain my disappointment with the cold downdraft. The ladder you can see is nearly 20 feet tall and my stand was well above that, as this big boy and his girlfriend were approaching the wallow.
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby Tigger » 06 26, 2018 •  [Post 6]

rvanbw00 wrote:Tigger can corroborate this story, as he and his boys sat in as my therapists the day after it happened...

My brother-in-law and I planned to hunt a new direction following our first two unsuccessful days of chasing elk out west. We hiked to a bald knob and glassed a mountain on the opposing side of the valley. Not 30 seconds after raising my binos, I spot two cows grazing in an opening. With the wind blowing across the the face of the mountain that the elk stood on, we knew we had to swing down wind in order to keep it in our face upon our approach. After two hours of hiking and 1,800' of elevation gain, we arrived at the spot where we had last seen the cows. BIL dropped down the mountain 100 yds and we made our way in parallel across the face, cow calling back and forth. Immediately following our first calling sequence, we strike up a bull. It sounds as though he is closer to my elevation, and we slowly creep along the face of the mountain, keeping the wind in our favor.

The bull confirmed his elevation with the 3-4 subsequent bugles responding to our calls. Each bugle grew closer, and I knew he was fired up enough to come in and look for some love. I keep looking through the sparse vegetation, trying to identify an tine, ear flick, or any other form of movement that may give away his position, as I know that he has to be close. Just then, immediately above the horizon in front of me, I see a chocolaty "V" but nothing else. I raise my binos and realize that Im 50 yds from a wound up 320+ bull elk.

****PAUSE***

My BIL and I are two flat land whitetail hunters from Indiana. Prior to this trip, I had literally never set foot on a mountain. I saw a mountain once - when I was in Vegas, but I was too drunk to really remember it. I crossed the Mississippi river once - got about 50 miles into Iowa, then went back home.

At this point in time, Im on my 3rd day of bow hunting a species Ive never seen in the wild, 7,500 feet up a mountain in a state Ive never been to, with a (in my books) trophy elk 50 yds away on public land. Im doing everything I can to not sh*t my pants. This shouldn't be happening.

***UNPAUSE***

I realize that with my line of sight, I can only see the very tips of the bull's ears, and he has not yet seen me. I immediately drop to the ground and start looking for some back cover, as the bull is continuing to move along a path that will leave him 35 yds in front of me. I back up to get a bush behind me and the bull blasts out another long bugle (something Ill never forget). I realize that his path will take him quartering downhill between my and Bryant (BIL). Just then, the wind stops. It has now blown constantly for 3 hours straight, helping keep us cool and we bust ass up the mountain trying to reach the elevation of the elk. One major takeaway from this maiden trip into the mountains is that it seems that they 'breathe'. In this case, the mountain was done 'exhaling' and decided to 'inhale' -albeit for just a second. I knew that the reverse in wind would put this elk into the next state if he were to cross my stink, so I identified a 3' square opening bounded by limbs that I could shoot through if he were to stop with his vitals in it.

The bull continued his search for love down the path he was on and stopped right in the opening I had outlined. Already drawn back, I set 40 yds on his vitals and the moment I had been waiting for for nearly 2 years came to fruition. The arrow flew - a mild arch across the face of the slope, and I watched yellow fletchings disappear into the 'window' and abruptly change course downward. I immediately knew that my arrow had deflected, but in the sudden commotion didnt know if I had made contact with the animal. Not having hear the distinct hollow "thwack" associated with a cavity shot confirmed that.

I was suddenly consumed with emotion (imagine Stan Potts after killing a big buck). After regaining control of myself, I went to investigate the situation. If I had missed, fine, but my hope was that it was clean and left the bull unscathed. A short while later I recovered my arrow and confirming that it was clean miss, I reconvened with Bryant. I explained to him the series of events that took place, and we set down to eat and evaluate our situation.

Prior to our trip, I had changed arrow shafts and was shooting a much heavier arrow. Basic physics tells us that without more pressure pushing the heavier arrow, said arrow will arch much higher to meet the same point of impact. I was driving tacks with those things before we left, but failed to account for so much rise and fall as I planned my shot through the opening in the brush.

It was funny - after walking 3 hours back to camp in a downpour (only fitting after a miss like that), I explained to Bryant that we had planned for a year, driven 1,600 miles, hiked 45 miles, and the success or failure of that trip came down to 1 lousy inch.

In hindsight, we may have been spoiled with that much success on our first trip. Id sure like to have that bad boy hanging on the wall, but the memories we made that week will stick with us forever.

Now, back to planning Elk 2019.



I can corroborate parts of his story. The part about him sh*tting his pants is true. The party about him crying incessantly for 36 hours is true. The part about him being hooked on elk hunting for life is also true. As is the part about him getting stuck in his 4WD truck in a blizzard on the mountain. (wait, you say some of that isn't in his original story???)

It was kinda funny how we came to meet. We met on a hunting forum, exchanged a few emails and phone numbers and since we were hunting close, agreed to text or call mid hunt to report progress (or lack thereof). When we went into town to get propane, we decided to stop at a bar. I called him prior to getting there and he mentioned he was at the bar drowning his sorrows. Which bar? the one we were 5 minutes from!

Welcome Ryan, you are a great addition to Wapiti Talk!
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby rvanbw00 » 06 27, 2018 •  [Post 7]

Glad to be here, guys. Yes, we were stuck in Bryant's obnoxious 4WD for 2 hrs or so. I bet we shoveled/scooped/cussed at 7 yds of snow before we got that dang thing out of there. Moral was low, nerves were shot. GRIT, my friends. I use that word more and more these days :?

Back to lurking in the shadows. Not heading west this year, so Ill be living vicariously through you all. Keep the reading good for me!
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby WapitiTalk1 » 06 27, 2018 •  [Post 8]

Was hunting the WA Peninsula in 1990ish. This was back when this area was "really" good; not so good anymore. At any rate, I was returning/driving back to camp after dark from a hunt in another drainage and saw the south ends of a group of north moving elk just as they crossed the road and headed up into a small draw. Back before daylight, I parked and headed up the draw (didn't see any sign of them coming back across the little road). Got up in there about 1/2 mile, sat, listened and heard nothing. Threw out one locator and BAM, got a hit back up a finger ridge about 200 yards. Worked my way up to where I figured I was within 75-100 yards, set up, and bugled once again. Within literally seconds (and hearing crash, Crash, CRash, CRAsh, CRASH, CRASH), a very large Roosevelk Elk came up over a little rise and stopped broadside, 30 yards above me, with his head "completely" behind a fir tree. I could see antler tips (pretty tall ones but just the tops) but could not make out what it was. This was a GMU where you could not shoot spikes (I wouldn't have shot one anyway at this point in my hunt even if they were legal) and I absolutely could not tell what kind of head gear this dude was packing. The flippant bull screamed loudly with his head behind the tree and then chuckled a few times. Man, I could "see" he was a bull and a large bodied one at that. I was at full draw but just couldn't release an arrow until I was sure what I was shooting. The exact second I let off, the turd stepped out and was absolutely one of the biggest racked 5 point Roosey's I'd ever seen. Super thick bases and really nice long tines all the way up. The gig was up and he left the country. He was a beat that got away.......
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby ishy » 06 27, 2018 •  [Post 9]

I was on call at a hospital the night before so I didn't get off till an hour after sunup. I am not a road hunter, but use to think I was prepared. Because I was on call I kept my stuff pretty hidden in my rig and not accessible at all. So about 8ish I am driving into the hills with a fresh new batch of snow during the end of October that is open for a week of rifle for those with an archery strong tag. I have never even seen an elk during this portion of elk season despite covering lots of miles on foot. So rifle strong season has been going for 2 weeks already, I am more going to retrieve a couple cameras than actually hunting as I have to be back at work by 1. As I am driving around a bend I see a cow in the road heading my way only about 75 yards out ...then another...and another about this time I am jumping over the seat knowing a bull will be in back of the herd. Between trying to get my gun and bullets out I sneak a peak at a 340 class heavy six point bringing up the rear. It was like one of those terrible dreams where you are moving in slow motion trying to get something done, but the harder you try the slower you seam to move. By the time I get out of the rig and load a shell I pull the scope up to catch nothing but antlers cresting the ridge. I gave chase to no avail. If only I would have had my stuff remotely accessible I would have had a chip shot at my biggest bull and the easiest pack job in the history of elk hunting.
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby elkstalker » 06 29, 2018 •  [Post 10]

I was hunting opening day of rifle season in Idaho and had located a really nice bull the day before, he was hanging with about 25 cows on the top of a bald open ridge with timber on either side. I hoofed the 3 miles up in the dark and set up on a rock outcrop on top of the ride to glass. As soon as it's light I see two raghorns moving away from me, and as I peak over the outcrop there is the rest of the herd. I estimate about 350 yards below me is the big boy, a big 6 point with long, curved, white tipped fronts and a heavy top, along with the cows and 2 satellite 6 points. The bull is still exhibiting rutting behavior and as I lay my pack down and prepare for the shot a cow dives over the side of the ridge out of sight and the herd bull follows her. The rest of the herd continues to feed as I vow to take the first clear shot I get when the bull hooks the cow and brings her back. Minutes later the bull reappears, pushing the cow back into the harem. Now he's feeding with the cows and I have no clear shot... he feeds around the cows and now is in the open. My heart is racing with excitement and nervousness as the safety comes off and I squeeze the trigger. I don't know if maybe I flinched, maybe it was the nerves and my excited shaking, but i definitely rushed the shot... As the elk cascaded down-slope and out of sight I already knew I had missed and my spirits were low as I trudged down to look for blood. No blood to be found.

I creep down a finger ridge and follow their tracks, who knows, maybe they didn't take off into the next county? After about five minutes creeping down the slope I see a cow standing below me, a glimmer of hope, they were still there!!! I drop to my hands and knees and army crawl downward, peeking above the grass every few seconds checking if the bull is within sight. I see one cow, two cows, three cows, then, white tipped antlers. I rise to one knee, take aim, and fire. The bull lurches forward, walking slowly, I fire again and he tumbles forward. My emotions are almost overwhelming and have gone from frustration and shame to jubilation in a matter of seconds, now I'm almost running down to this bull, and when I see him something seems off about this bull, is it ground shrinkage??? As I replay the events that have just unfolded in my mind, I remember the two satellite bulls that accompanied the herd and it suddenly becomes clear to me, I shot one of the satellites!! I knelt and said a prayer of thanks for the successful hunt, laughing to myself I remember thinking, man God sure does have a sense of humor. We ate well on that bull the next year, but the big one, he got away.

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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby Swede » 06 29, 2018 •  [Post 11]

Wow, That is a great looking consolation prize. I can hope I will get one as big this season. Good story.
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby Lefty » 07 01, 2018 •  [Post 12]

Im still wiping away the tears:
Ive posted longer stories at some time,. So just short versions of rifle stories. Just a moment: I need a box of tissues

Sitting on a bald grass face in SW Montana. My brother in law 100s of yards away watched and described it this way.
A huge bull is walking towards me:
I hear something , I slowly stand and turn around , what did I hear
I sit back down, the bull walks over a near crown of a ridge 40 yards behind me, I never saw it

40-60 yards away, SW Monatana. I can see legs and sometimes horn, 20 minutes of peek-a-boo. never a shot

Late Montana season deep snow: I walk in, an hour later some clown follows my footprints and wants to sit with me. I was less than cordial,.. the fellow is 70 yards away and a big bull steps out. I hurry and lay my rifle over the log,.. adjust my cross hairs and squeeze the trigger . the bull charges down hill. Then lots of noise.
the elk had literally ran over a bear asleep in the snow. It was a miss ( my scope lense was loose) Minutes late a rifle report, later 5 guys drug down that bull,. Green 357 :oops:
Im dehydrated and need to get some fluids in me.

3nd day ever archery elk hunting, a pretty boy 6x6 300 bull with 4 girls and their calves. At 11 and 1/2 yards his head way back, glunking and smelling the girls I ricochet my arrow off of his g4.

thats enough pain for one day
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby Tigger » 07 02, 2018 •  [Post 13]

Was his G4 over the vitals? Oh man, can you imagine hitting antler that was hanging over the vitals? That would be epic and I really hope someone else experiences that instead of me. Like Indian Summer. That would be perfect if he did it. :lol:
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby Lefty » 07 02, 2018 •  [Post 14]

Yes
Oh the pain of repeating the story. My first year archery elk hunting, and in the desert. That bull had walked past my pickup, and one in the herd d knocked the mirror on the drivers side.
I was sitting in a box blind 14 yards from a water tank. As the herd ran in my knuckles scraped the side of the box, the bull spooked and kicked dirt all over. He came in a the waterline , not the cattle trail.

I had practiced this shot at home over and over: I had practiced from my blind, reaching my bow from its hanger, rolling from my chair to a knee. The thinking what Ted Nugent use to say when drawing and anchoring from three locations( Father Son and Holy Ghost)
As I was putting the 22 yard pin on I thought for a fraction of a second( yes I was already putting him on the wall and freezer) . " hes bigger than any bull Murry ( My FIL) has bought home". I had made this shot maybe a couple thousand of times in my mind over the previous month.
I thought "cool my 13 yard pin is right on his g-4"17 yard pin was perfect, I was rock steady, my release was perfect

This was before my shoulder was fixed. I had my pins at 13, 22 and 27 yards. 27 was the furthest distance I chose to shoot.
Th bull was at 11 1/2 yards,
At the release the bull spun , his right shoulder just inches from the ground , he ran out and faced the blind for an even 10 minutes, just staring at the blind. I only had one shooting window and peep holes on the other 3 sides, then he walked a few yards still at 30 yards and stared for another 8 minutes.
The cows and calves were playing drinking, passing gas ( I didnt know they did that) and rubbing on the blind. For a large portion of that 18 minutes I could have touched a cow or calf as they rubbed on the blind ( taking a point blank shot at a cow never crossed my mind.), I was locked on the bull. I sat in the box as I was getting ready to leave the herd came back. More drinking, playing, mewing , splashing the water. The bull walked up, stuck his nose in the peep hole beside my face, sucked air in his nose , snorted and blew snot all over the right side of my face. Wow what a rush. Then that bull smacked the box just inches above my head with his antlers.
That evening was the night I became addicted to bull elk.

I have pics of that blind and location on a thumb drive,
But this is the same blind a few years later different location.Also sporting a shooting hole on everyside :roll:
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby Dorobuta » 07 06, 2018 •  [Post 15]

mine still haunts my dreams.

it wasn't a particularly big bull, in fact is was a rather pedestrian 5 x 5. Two aspects made it hard to take: IT was the only shootable bull I saw then entire trip, and it should have been a very easy shot.

We were up in the flat tops areas, above Dotsero, CO. We had called in spikes, a calve, and a rag horn over the course of a week. On the last day of the hunt, we called in a 5 x 5. He kept hanging up, and we kept working him and moving around. Finally we were able to call him in but he circled down hill from us into a steep ravine.

I shot, putting my arrow right over his back. Should have been a simple chip shot, but I made two stupid rookie mistakes. I used the wrong pin for a steep downhill shot, and I rushed the shot. He was standing broadside, he didn't know I was there. I just blew it.

I've since gone to a single pin sight, and always have my range finder with me...

Don't know why this one haunts me, but it does.
Yes, I am addicted to elk. No, I don't need help, I just need a tag.
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby Elkhunttoo » 07 06, 2018 •  [Post 16]

Great stories guys... so many stories to choose from for me, in the fall of 2000 I had one bull that I worked and couldn't get closer then 60 yards. My range then was 30 and there was no closing the gap on this ol boy that morning for me. He was a straight 6 and not even the biggest bull in the woods, but I've never forgot watching he work back and forth through the trees and how symmetrical he was.
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Re: The One That Got Away

Postby six » 07 08, 2018 •  [Post 17]

In 2012 after a 24 hour drive then a 2 hour hike to camp. I told my partner I was just going to take it easy tonight and hit the ground running in the morning.

Well camp was all set up, dinner ate, and I was brushing my teeth. Feeling exhausted but ecstatic to be back in the mountains again with my bow. My partner came and tapped me on the shoulder. "Did you hear that?" A bugle right up there. He said he was going toward it and I decided to go in the direction we figured it was headed. I walked about 100 yards from camp and stopped to let out a bugle. Bow in hand a nice 6x6 stepped out into the abandon logging road staring right at me at 50 yards. After a minute long starting contest the bull turned broadside daring me to shoot. I placed my 40 yard pin right on his sweet spot and watched the arrow sail right over his back.

I have since vowed to never shoot at a critter when I have to guess/estimate yardage.
Elk are where you find em...
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