That'll make the drive feel all worth it.
Sent from my moto z3 using Tapatalk
Sent from my moto z3 using Tapatalk
2020 Hunting Season Live Hunt!
- Thread starter TheCougar
- Start date
So I have decided that I’m the world’s worst “trophy” hunter. Every time I pull the trigger on an elk that is smaller than the one I intended to shoot, I always have the same train of thought... “Man, he’s smaller than I was hoping for and I know there are bigger bulls around, but think of the story with this one! What this bull lacks in size, he makes up in the adventure.” BLAM.
So here we are, opening day up in the mountains of Montana. We have between 18”-24” of snow on average in the mountain range I’m hunting. It’s not too cold - temps were in the single digits most of the day, but that wind!!! In all the spots we glassed from, there was over 20 knots of winds and blowing snow.
The MVP of this hunt has been Jeff’s Ford Raptor, nicknamed the Honey Raptor, because Honey Raptor just don’t care. Amazingly we never got stuck and never had to winch out, but we really used every ounce of performance and driving skill to get around the mountain to glass for elk. The stupidity and stubbornness paid off. While everyone was hanging at elk camp and staying warm, Jeff and I saw elk consistently in the morning. We found a number of average bulls and I thought I saw a nice one through the blowing snow, but he moved into the timber before the weather cleared and we lost him. With the poor visibility, howling winds, and nothing huge spotted we decided to hold off for the afternoon when conditions were supposed to improve.
Around noon, we had stopped seeing elk and we needed a break, so we went back to camp to get the snow out of our gear and warm up. We recharged until around 2:30, then headed back out. We made a beeline straight for a spot where we hadn’t seen elk, but we could see a lot of fresh tracks and we were really confident there was a herd of elk bedded in the strip of timber. It’s wasn’t 2 minutes after we arrived that I found two groups of elk, totaling maybe 50 elk. There were a lot of smaller and average bulls (an average bull being a 5 point). They were over 1000 yards away and we watched them for an hour to find the largest bull in the upper group, which was a nice 5x5. I thought I had glimpsed a large bull somewhere on the hillside through the trees, but it was a fleeting glimpse and I never got a second look. To get there, we had to plow Honey Raptor through a drifted road, then side hill a little over a mile to the top of a ridge, hike the ridge for a bit, then pop over the top through the upper end of the timber and get on the elk. With the howling wind, this plan was promising despite the fact that we would be really tight on the elk once we popped over the ridge.
I won’t bore you with the hike, but it sucked. The wind was absolutely ripping and I lost all feeling in my hands and parts of my face - except my eyes. I didn’t know my eyes could hurt so bad in the cold. It was 3 degrees when we left the truck, so I have no idea what the wind chill would have been, but it was bad.
After a slow hike, trying not to sweat in all our layers or slip down the mountain, we finally popped over the top of the ridge and made our way to the timber. Once we got to the timber, we skirted the very upper edge in silence as the trees provided a wind break. We found the elk bedded in the same spot, and we were within 100 yards. The cover was sparser that we had hoped and there were gaps in the trees where we would be exposed on the stalk while trying to get in a position to see the bull. With two feet of snow drifted up, we sucked it up and low crawled through the snow, basically sinking our bodies into the dry powder and scooting along, holding my rifle up as much as possible. We managed to get snow in every crack and crevice of our gear and a fair amount got under our outer layer. At the time I was surprised that the elk didn’t spot us, but after seeing Jeff’s video of the the stalk, we were submerged in the powder and moving slowly, so maybe it isn’t that surprising. We slowly crawled along the edge of the tree line, looking for the bulls. All I could see were cows and spikes, and a small rag horn. The bull we had been looking for was nowhere to be seen, and it was likely he had moved down the ridge a few yards. Jeff and I discussed the next course of action. We could 1. Bust the herd and hope that the bigger bull provided a shot before they all ran off the mountain. 2. Leave. 3. Find the best bull in this upper group (an average 5x5). We had to either shoot or bust the herd - there was no getting closer at this point and spotting the bigger bull wasn’t going to happen before we died of exposure.
And we have come full circle back to me being a really bad trophy hunter. Option 1 was terrible. I would rather pick option 2 and maybe come back in the morning or wait for a better opportunity, assuming we could extricate ourselves without being seen. Option 2 was enticing, but I started to glass the 5x5 and slowly convince myself that this stalk had been an adventure. I was hunting in terrible conditions, the hunt had been (and was going to be) memorable, and Jeff and I had slipped to within 70 yards of 50 bedded elk and I had a bedded bull with a slam dunk shot.
We looked at each other and I told him to put in his ear pro, that I was going to stand up, use a limb as a rest, and shoot the bull in his bed. What’s great about 20 knots of wind is that you can still whisper when you’re right on top of critters. I shook all the snow out of my rifle and scope, got everything set up and I crept to the tree branch. I could only see the top third of the bull’s back, as he lay sleeping in the snow. My plan was to actually put the bullet about an inch below the snow line, knowing how powdery it was and that it wouldn’t affect the bullet in the last 2 feet of bullet flight. I steadied as best I could, started to squeeze and backed off because even at 80 yards, the wind was so bad that I couldn’t hold on him. I waited for a break in the wind and shot. I didn’t see or hear the impact, and I was close enough that I immediately looked over the scope to see the cows already up on their feet. I started cycling the bolt while looking for the bull, he was rising more slowly as the cows started to run. He got up and took a few wobbly steps to follow the cows, and I had a brief opportunity and took a second shot. He stumbled and fell over into the snow. It was over in the span of 3 seconds.
We built a fire (survival fires seem to happen whenever Jeff and I hunt together). I spent the next couple of hours in a routine: breakdown the bull - go get wood - feed the fire - warm my hands - repeat. Jeff shuttled meat to the road while I worked, on the last load coming out of the woods around 8pm, at which point temps were in the negatives and we were covered in bloody snow and trying to feel our appendages and faces. Besides my hands, I was warmer than I anticipated, probably due to the constant work.
I get to go out in the morning and try to help a friend of a friend try to fill his bull tag and hopefully turn up the big bull that I know is hiding in that drainage. Maybe he will be a more successful trophy hunter than I am!
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
So here we are, opening day up in the mountains of Montana. We have between 18”-24” of snow on average in the mountain range I’m hunting. It’s not too cold - temps were in the single digits most of the day, but that wind!!! In all the spots we glassed from, there was over 20 knots of winds and blowing snow.
The MVP of this hunt has been Jeff’s Ford Raptor, nicknamed the Honey Raptor, because Honey Raptor just don’t care. Amazingly we never got stuck and never had to winch out, but we really used every ounce of performance and driving skill to get around the mountain to glass for elk. The stupidity and stubbornness paid off. While everyone was hanging at elk camp and staying warm, Jeff and I saw elk consistently in the morning. We found a number of average bulls and I thought I saw a nice one through the blowing snow, but he moved into the timber before the weather cleared and we lost him. With the poor visibility, howling winds, and nothing huge spotted we decided to hold off for the afternoon when conditions were supposed to improve.
Around noon, we had stopped seeing elk and we needed a break, so we went back to camp to get the snow out of our gear and warm up. We recharged until around 2:30, then headed back out. We made a beeline straight for a spot where we hadn’t seen elk, but we could see a lot of fresh tracks and we were really confident there was a herd of elk bedded in the strip of timber. It’s wasn’t 2 minutes after we arrived that I found two groups of elk, totaling maybe 50 elk. There were a lot of smaller and average bulls (an average bull being a 5 point). They were over 1000 yards away and we watched them for an hour to find the largest bull in the upper group, which was a nice 5x5. I thought I had glimpsed a large bull somewhere on the hillside through the trees, but it was a fleeting glimpse and I never got a second look. To get there, we had to plow Honey Raptor through a drifted road, then side hill a little over a mile to the top of a ridge, hike the ridge for a bit, then pop over the top through the upper end of the timber and get on the elk. With the howling wind, this plan was promising despite the fact that we would be really tight on the elk once we popped over the ridge.
I won’t bore you with the hike, but it sucked. The wind was absolutely ripping and I lost all feeling in my hands and parts of my face - except my eyes. I didn’t know my eyes could hurt so bad in the cold. It was 3 degrees when we left the truck, so I have no idea what the wind chill would have been, but it was bad.
After a slow hike, trying not to sweat in all our layers or slip down the mountain, we finally popped over the top of the ridge and made our way to the timber. Once we got to the timber, we skirted the very upper edge in silence as the trees provided a wind break. We found the elk bedded in the same spot, and we were within 100 yards. The cover was sparser that we had hoped and there were gaps in the trees where we would be exposed on the stalk while trying to get in a position to see the bull. With two feet of snow drifted up, we sucked it up and low crawled through the snow, basically sinking our bodies into the dry powder and scooting along, holding my rifle up as much as possible. We managed to get snow in every crack and crevice of our gear and a fair amount got under our outer layer. At the time I was surprised that the elk didn’t spot us, but after seeing Jeff’s video of the the stalk, we were submerged in the powder and moving slowly, so maybe it isn’t that surprising. We slowly crawled along the edge of the tree line, looking for the bulls. All I could see were cows and spikes, and a small rag horn. The bull we had been looking for was nowhere to be seen, and it was likely he had moved down the ridge a few yards. Jeff and I discussed the next course of action. We could 1. Bust the herd and hope that the bigger bull provided a shot before they all ran off the mountain. 2. Leave. 3. Find the best bull in this upper group (an average 5x5). We had to either shoot or bust the herd - there was no getting closer at this point and spotting the bigger bull wasn’t going to happen before we died of exposure.
And we have come full circle back to me being a really bad trophy hunter. Option 1 was terrible. I would rather pick option 2 and maybe come back in the morning or wait for a better opportunity, assuming we could extricate ourselves without being seen. Option 2 was enticing, but I started to glass the 5x5 and slowly convince myself that this stalk had been an adventure. I was hunting in terrible conditions, the hunt had been (and was going to be) memorable, and Jeff and I had slipped to within 70 yards of 50 bedded elk and I had a bedded bull with a slam dunk shot.
We looked at each other and I told him to put in his ear pro, that I was going to stand up, use a limb as a rest, and shoot the bull in his bed. What’s great about 20 knots of wind is that you can still whisper when you’re right on top of critters. I shook all the snow out of my rifle and scope, got everything set up and I crept to the tree branch. I could only see the top third of the bull’s back, as he lay sleeping in the snow. My plan was to actually put the bullet about an inch below the snow line, knowing how powdery it was and that it wouldn’t affect the bullet in the last 2 feet of bullet flight. I steadied as best I could, started to squeeze and backed off because even at 80 yards, the wind was so bad that I couldn’t hold on him. I waited for a break in the wind and shot. I didn’t see or hear the impact, and I was close enough that I immediately looked over the scope to see the cows already up on their feet. I started cycling the bolt while looking for the bull, he was rising more slowly as the cows started to run. He got up and took a few wobbly steps to follow the cows, and I had a brief opportunity and took a second shot. He stumbled and fell over into the snow. It was over in the span of 3 seconds.
We built a fire (survival fires seem to happen whenever Jeff and I hunt together). I spent the next couple of hours in a routine: breakdown the bull - go get wood - feed the fire - warm my hands - repeat. Jeff shuttled meat to the road while I worked, on the last load coming out of the woods around 8pm, at which point temps were in the negatives and we were covered in bloody snow and trying to feel our appendages and faces. Besides my hands, I was warmer than I anticipated, probably due to the constant work.
I get to go out in the morning and try to help a friend of a friend try to fill his bull tag and hopefully turn up the big bull that I know is hiding in that drainage. Maybe he will be a more successful trophy hunter than I am!
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Last edited:
Shrek
WKR
That bull will be a trophy on the plate !
nrh6.7
WKR
Congrats on a great hunt! Hope your ear and nose heal up quickly!!
It’s been a few days and I’m in town for a recharge...
Before we left camp, we guided a friend of a friend on his first elk hunt and he got a nice 5x5.
We came down the mountain on Monday and drove to a friend’s house to start hunting mule deer and antelope. I had private access lined up for antelope, but that fell through, so it’s almost a guarantee that I’ll eat that tag. We repacked and hopped in the truck for a day hunt into a frequented road hunting area popular with the locals. We hiked a mile or so off the road and saw a herd of elk, countless does, and three bucks - a very small 3x3 and forkie, and a nice 4x2 that we debated shooting for over an hour. It was my call and I chose to pass, as we had only been hunting for a few hours and I felt the results were promising for a better deer if we went deeper.
Before we left camp, we guided a friend of a friend on his first elk hunt and he got a nice 5x5.
We came down the mountain on Monday and drove to a friend’s house to start hunting mule deer and antelope. I had private access lined up for antelope, but that fell through, so it’s almost a guarantee that I’ll eat that tag. We repacked and hopped in the truck for a day hunt into a frequented road hunting area popular with the locals. We hiked a mile or so off the road and saw a herd of elk, countless does, and three bucks - a very small 3x3 and forkie, and a nice 4x2 that we debated shooting for over an hour. It was my call and I chose to pass, as we had only been hunting for a few hours and I felt the results were promising for a better deer if we went deeper.
We hiked about 3 miles into a backcountry spot that we knew held deer and was a good area in mid-November. We were expecting that the early snow might have pushed the deer out of the high country early. The area is frequented by horse packers, but there was only one truck at the trailhead and those tracks went into a different drainage, so we had the area to ourselves. Well, besides sharing it with a grizzly.
We glassed for several hours and turned up some elk and does. Then we hiked up the biggest peak in the area for the evening glassing session. On the way we kicked up a small forkie and some does.
During the evening sit, we glassed up 20+ does and no bucks.
We ended up using his steripen, which needed a charge pretty much every time we used it due to cold weather. My Sawyer didn’t function at all. Not cool.
Drying out our gear, after snow got slushy when it warmed up a bit today.
No dice. Not a single buck, which was surprising given how much country we could glass. There were countless does and the entire place was hammered with fresh tracks.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
We glassed for several hours and turned up some elk and does. Then we hiked up the biggest peak in the area for the evening glassing session. On the way we kicked up a small forkie and some does.
During the evening sit, we glassed up 20+ does and no bucks.
We ended up using his steripen, which needed a charge pretty much every time we used it due to cold weather. My Sawyer didn’t function at all. Not cool.
Drying out our gear, after snow got slushy when it warmed up a bit today.
No dice. Not a single buck, which was surprising given how much country we could glass. There were countless does and the entire place was hammered with fresh tracks.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Last edited:
Yesterday, we hunted the AM and came up empty again, glassing nothing but does. We decided to quit while we were behind and we hiked out, passing a couple of hunters on the way in. “Abandon hope all he who enter here...”.
Our lack of success had lowered our standards sufficiently, and we decided to go back to the first drainage where we had seen the 4x2, who was in mortal danger if we saw him again.
We decided to do a classic “pincher” attack on the drainage, each of us taking a ridge so we could glass across and cover both sides. We hiked into the drainage and I spotted bedded deer immediately. I didn’t see the buck, so I slowly worked down the drainage, maintaining visual contact with Jeff and using hand signals through the binos to communicate. Jeff entered the drainage several hundred feet lower than I expected and I signaled for him to move up since he was likely to spook the bedded deer. In short order, the deer popped up out of their beds and started to move down the drainage. He could see them and was signaling to get me in position, but I couldn’t see them from my angle and they were rapidly moving to a private boundary.
Jeff did the right thing and waited as long as he could before he dropped the buck, probably 150 yards from the private boundary. In case you’re wondering, this is what a 338 Lapua does to a deer. It looked like a horror movie scene in the snow.
Upon further review, he is a wide 4x3 with decent mass and crabby forks. I totally should have shot him and not passed the first night. I would have been perfectly happy to have that buck as my first muley, but I got greedy and I’m kicking myself for passing. I’m glad Jeff got him, and I was happy to finally get to be a meat Sherpa for him!
I consoled my aching body with a Motrin horse pill and a margarita.
Tomorrow we are going to knock on doors for antelope and hopefully do some deer hunting this evening. I have to hit the road Friday morning, so this is the last day.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Our lack of success had lowered our standards sufficiently, and we decided to go back to the first drainage where we had seen the 4x2, who was in mortal danger if we saw him again.
We decided to do a classic “pincher” attack on the drainage, each of us taking a ridge so we could glass across and cover both sides. We hiked into the drainage and I spotted bedded deer immediately. I didn’t see the buck, so I slowly worked down the drainage, maintaining visual contact with Jeff and using hand signals through the binos to communicate. Jeff entered the drainage several hundred feet lower than I expected and I signaled for him to move up since he was likely to spook the bedded deer. In short order, the deer popped up out of their beds and started to move down the drainage. He could see them and was signaling to get me in position, but I couldn’t see them from my angle and they were rapidly moving to a private boundary.
Jeff did the right thing and waited as long as he could before he dropped the buck, probably 150 yards from the private boundary. In case you’re wondering, this is what a 338 Lapua does to a deer. It looked like a horror movie scene in the snow.
Upon further review, he is a wide 4x3 with decent mass and crabby forks. I totally should have shot him and not passed the first night. I would have been perfectly happy to have that buck as my first muley, but I got greedy and I’m kicking myself for passing. I’m glad Jeff got him, and I was happy to finally get to be a meat Sherpa for him!
I consoled my aching body with a Motrin horse pill and a margarita.
Tomorrow we are going to knock on doors for antelope and hopefully do some deer hunting this evening. I have to hit the road Friday morning, so this is the last day.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Well, that’s a wrap on Montana. We spent all day bouncing public parcels and got access to a ranch and still couldn’t turn up any antelope. We turned up a bunch of mule deer does and tiny spikes and forkies. I shot a small whitetail buck as the sun set on our Montana Hunt. A consolation buck to be sure, after not being able to get a nice mule deer buck.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Just saw this picture... I’ve assumed a similar posture when presented with a pile of flooring to install...
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
glad you’re all recovered and thanks for sharing your adventures.
Well, I’m back in Arizona with my entire family. We are spending the week visiting with friends, then we are headed up the mountain on Thanksgiving for the kids hunts. We have two rifle bull elk tags in eastern Arizona, one each for my 12 year old son and 10 year old daughter. I scouted the unit a bit during archery season and I’ve done a bunch of e-scouting as well, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got some good areas for the kids. Unfortunately, in keeping with the theme of the season, the hunt isn’t going to go as smoothly as I had hoped. I had a few buddies lined up to come help mentor the kids, glass, and pack out elk and they have all bailed at the last minute except my best friend and hunting partner. It will be very challenging with just the two of us and two youth hunters, but that’s the situation we are in and we will beat the odds. I’m very thankful for Andy, he’s the only one I can count on to show up. My son is super excited, my daughter is really nervous, and I’m really excited and anxious about my daughter’s shooting and her perseverance on what will be a cold and tiring adventure, the likes of which she hasn’t experienced before. I took them to the range a lot this year and we shot hundreds of dry fire and live fire rounds. It isn’t finding bulls that I’m worried about, but rather both of them making a good shot, and recovering and packing out two bulls. We will have our hands full!
Well, I’m back from the hunt. It was the hunt from hell - pretty much everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong.
24 hours before the hunt, everyone bailed except my best friend. They took with them the camper, a side by side, and unit knowledge.
The weather forecast of 25% chance of snow turned into several inches of snow and temps on average 5-10 degrees colder than planned.
My kids were troopers and hiked 3-4 miles in snow flurries and we found 3 bulls, but couldn’t get on them before they bedded in the timber. We opted to try and come back that evening.
On the way back to camp, I had an accident with my truck on a 100 yard section of road that for some reason was incredibly slick, while the rest of the road had good traction. I had just completed a brake check and was confident in the road conditions until I tapped the brakes and immediately started sliding. Everyone was fine, but there goes 25 years of accident free driving. We found nothing that evening checking out new areas.
Day 2 morning, we didn’t go back to the canyon with the bulls because the small section of road was a skating rink (literally a 200 yard section on a 4 mile drive). Instead we went east to a large mountain and hiked in the snow and deadfall to a glassing knob. The cold pretty much broke my daughter that morning. We glassed up 3 bulls and my son and I tried to get there for a shot, but it was just too far and too much deadfall to get a shot before they fed around the side of the mountain and out of our lives forever. That evening we tried a new spot and found nothing. After the second day of hunting, my 10 year old daughter decided that hunting wasn’t for her and she went back home with her mom and sisters, leaving me and my son and Andy for the remainder of the hunt. This was a huge emotional and mental blow to me, as I really wanted her to stay but I didn’t want to force her.
Day 3, we went back to the canyon where I had found the bulls on day 1. The road was good to drive now. We got into the canyon and as we hiked the ridge, we found a stampede of bull tracks coming out of the canyon. Turns out that after I had left with the kids, an outfitter had gone into the canyon with a side by side, shot a bull, and cut their way to the carcass with chainsaws. It looked like at least a dozen bulls had run out of the canyon and the entire area was blown out. That night, my son, who really impressed me the entire hunt, both with his attitude and ability, went up a large mountain with me. It was a difficult 4 mile round trip, descending 200’ and climbing 800’. There was sign everywhere and was picture perfect country, but like every evening, we didn’t see any elk.
Day 4, we drove up to a plateau and went to a glassing spot. We found a bull at 300 yards and we almost got a shot off, but he was walking dead away into the timber by the time we were set up. We still hunted the ridge and found lots of cows and bumped the bull. The strap on my buddies quad ramp broke while I was loading his ATV and the ramp shot out from under the right rear tire and I was lucky to not flip over backwards and get seriously injured. My tailgate corner got crushed when the quad slid off the side. What the crap. I’ve loaded quads into my truck bed a hundred times. A strap breaks? Really? Can nothing go right on this hunt?
We got back to camp and Andy told me that we had been 1 mile away from 100 elk that morning, on the opposite side of the ridge. He had been trying to get in touch with us the entire time. My radio had stopped working that morning (no idea why) and we had been texting each other, but none of the texts were actually delivered. We were both pissed when we got back to camp - “why didn’t you respond”? Turns out that in keeping with the theme of the hunt, for no apparent reason our radios and phones refused to work when we needed them the most.
24 hours before the hunt, everyone bailed except my best friend. They took with them the camper, a side by side, and unit knowledge.
The weather forecast of 25% chance of snow turned into several inches of snow and temps on average 5-10 degrees colder than planned.
My kids were troopers and hiked 3-4 miles in snow flurries and we found 3 bulls, but couldn’t get on them before they bedded in the timber. We opted to try and come back that evening.
On the way back to camp, I had an accident with my truck on a 100 yard section of road that for some reason was incredibly slick, while the rest of the road had good traction. I had just completed a brake check and was confident in the road conditions until I tapped the brakes and immediately started sliding. Everyone was fine, but there goes 25 years of accident free driving. We found nothing that evening checking out new areas.
Day 2 morning, we didn’t go back to the canyon with the bulls because the small section of road was a skating rink (literally a 200 yard section on a 4 mile drive). Instead we went east to a large mountain and hiked in the snow and deadfall to a glassing knob. The cold pretty much broke my daughter that morning. We glassed up 3 bulls and my son and I tried to get there for a shot, but it was just too far and too much deadfall to get a shot before they fed around the side of the mountain and out of our lives forever. That evening we tried a new spot and found nothing. After the second day of hunting, my 10 year old daughter decided that hunting wasn’t for her and she went back home with her mom and sisters, leaving me and my son and Andy for the remainder of the hunt. This was a huge emotional and mental blow to me, as I really wanted her to stay but I didn’t want to force her.
Day 3, we went back to the canyon where I had found the bulls on day 1. The road was good to drive now. We got into the canyon and as we hiked the ridge, we found a stampede of bull tracks coming out of the canyon. Turns out that after I had left with the kids, an outfitter had gone into the canyon with a side by side, shot a bull, and cut their way to the carcass with chainsaws. It looked like at least a dozen bulls had run out of the canyon and the entire area was blown out. That night, my son, who really impressed me the entire hunt, both with his attitude and ability, went up a large mountain with me. It was a difficult 4 mile round trip, descending 200’ and climbing 800’. There was sign everywhere and was picture perfect country, but like every evening, we didn’t see any elk.
Day 4, we drove up to a plateau and went to a glassing spot. We found a bull at 300 yards and we almost got a shot off, but he was walking dead away into the timber by the time we were set up. We still hunted the ridge and found lots of cows and bumped the bull. The strap on my buddies quad ramp broke while I was loading his ATV and the ramp shot out from under the right rear tire and I was lucky to not flip over backwards and get seriously injured. My tailgate corner got crushed when the quad slid off the side. What the crap. I’ve loaded quads into my truck bed a hundred times. A strap breaks? Really? Can nothing go right on this hunt?
We got back to camp and Andy told me that we had been 1 mile away from 100 elk that morning, on the opposite side of the ridge. He had been trying to get in touch with us the entire time. My radio had stopped working that morning (no idea why) and we had been texting each other, but none of the texts were actually delivered. We were both pissed when we got back to camp - “why didn’t you respond”? Turns out that in keeping with the theme of the hunt, for no apparent reason our radios and phones refused to work when we needed them the most.
Last edited:
He took us up to his glassing knob and we glassed up the herd, then Riley and I loaded up and went back up the mountain to get above the herd. Two hours later we were perched on the top of the highest point on the ridge, glassing up elk. There were elk everywhere, between 300-900 yards. Literally 150-200 elk, about 95% of which were cows. I found a few spikes bedded at 700 and a small 2x2 at 650. They were generally feeding left to right and quartering towards us. After 1.5 hours of looking, I found a 5x5 at 850, but I would only get a glimpse of him every 15 minutes through the trees and that was too far for my son to shoot. There were so many elk that moving closer wasn’t an option, so I continued to glass and try to find something closer. Finally 30 minutes before sunset, a group of bulls materialized at 350. They were in and out of the trees and I could see a nice 5x5, a broken 5x3, and a couple smaller raghorns. Riley and I spent the next 30 minutes crawling on boulders and setting up and moving shooting positions as we tried to find a spot he could shoot from that was stable and he had a clear lane. Every time we set up, something would happen that made us move. Finally right at sunset, I made us move significantly to the right to try and get a completely different angle. I hurried to find one bull feeding in a small opening with a very small shooting window. I got Riley all set up and the bull was broadside, but now he was staring directly into the sunset and the scope was completely washed out. His face looked totally heartbroken and crushed when he told me he couldn’t see through the scope. I threw my hand up over the scope to block the sun and he immediately said he could see the bull, which was broadside. The bull was still there, but I can’t emphasize how small this shooting window was - we were going to lose this chance if he didn’t shoot now. He took a few seconds to compose himself and slowly squeezed the trigger while I had one hand blocking the sun and the other hand holding my binos.
-Click-
What the hell?!? A misfire???? For the first time ever on this rifle?!? Why God, WHY?
I cycled the bolt, ejected the bullet (with a pristine primer intact), and tell Riley to try again. In the ensuing 3 seconds, the bull had moved enough that Riley couldn’t see him anymore. Riley repositioned on his own and shifted over enough to see the bull again. This time the rifle functioned and I heard and saw the bull get hit. He ran 5 yards behind a large Juniper tree and all the cows started milling about. I moved left and tried to see the bull. Riley said, “I see him, he’s down”! I don’t see him. I asked him again and he said “he’s laying down, he’s dead!” I still can’t see him and I shift over and see the bull had come back out from behind the tree and laid down, but had his head up. All the elk start running. I told Riley to shoot again. He said “but dad, he’s laying down. He’s dead!” I turn full military on him and tell him to SHOOT THAT BULL RIGHT NOW. He has a look of incomprehension on his face. “HE IS NOT DEAD. HIS HEAD IS UP. SHOOT HIM UNTIL I TELL YOU TO STOP.” He complies and puts a second round into the bedded bull, I don’t see the shot, but I hear the hit. The bull staggers to his feet and stumbles into the trees. Riley is shocked. I am not.
We wait an agonizing 1.5 hours before we approach the trees where the bull disappeared. I estimated his location because it was dark and, of course - my phone had been smashed crawling on the boulders, so I had no GPS to drop a pin. I had to use dead reckoning and estimate the range in the dark to one the general area. The hunt from hell had to get one more cheap shot in. Good times. On the first walk through, I smell a bull but can’t find him. We search around a bit and I backtrack until I smell him again. I quickly pull out the wind checker and see where the air is moving. I tell Riley to go uphill straight into the wind and 30 yards later I see the eye reflection from our headlamps!
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
-Click-
What the hell?!? A misfire???? For the first time ever on this rifle?!? Why God, WHY?
I cycled the bolt, ejected the bullet (with a pristine primer intact), and tell Riley to try again. In the ensuing 3 seconds, the bull had moved enough that Riley couldn’t see him anymore. Riley repositioned on his own and shifted over enough to see the bull again. This time the rifle functioned and I heard and saw the bull get hit. He ran 5 yards behind a large Juniper tree and all the cows started milling about. I moved left and tried to see the bull. Riley said, “I see him, he’s down”! I don’t see him. I asked him again and he said “he’s laying down, he’s dead!” I still can’t see him and I shift over and see the bull had come back out from behind the tree and laid down, but had his head up. All the elk start running. I told Riley to shoot again. He said “but dad, he’s laying down. He’s dead!” I turn full military on him and tell him to SHOOT THAT BULL RIGHT NOW. He has a look of incomprehension on his face. “HE IS NOT DEAD. HIS HEAD IS UP. SHOOT HIM UNTIL I TELL YOU TO STOP.” He complies and puts a second round into the bedded bull, I don’t see the shot, but I hear the hit. The bull staggers to his feet and stumbles into the trees. Riley is shocked. I am not.
We wait an agonizing 1.5 hours before we approach the trees where the bull disappeared. I estimated his location because it was dark and, of course - my phone had been smashed crawling on the boulders, so I had no GPS to drop a pin. I had to use dead reckoning and estimate the range in the dark to one the general area. The hunt from hell had to get one more cheap shot in. Good times. On the first walk through, I smell a bull but can’t find him. We search around a bit and I backtrack until I smell him again. I quickly pull out the wind checker and see where the air is moving. I tell Riley to go uphill straight into the wind and 30 yards later I see the eye reflection from our headlamps!
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Last edited:
You definitely earned that one. Damn.
Similar threads
Featured Video
Latest Articles
- TT#64 Josh Boyd Elk Hunting Strategies for Every Season
- Aaron Davidson of Gunwerks
- TT#63 Dirk Durham’s Art of Elk Calling
- BIG Buck Stories with the Dirty Giants Podcast
- TT#62 Brian Barney Hunting Bulls without Calling
- Hoyt Alpha AX-2 SD Review
- Kuiu Kenai vs Outdoor Vitals Vario Hooded Jacket Review
- Hoyt RX-9 Ultra Review
- Hunting Vampire Bucks & Building an Optics Kit
- Darton Sequel ST2 35 Review