Midway through our hunt my son spotted a couple bulls further out laying down mid-afternoon. The wx was good, wind was right, and one bull looked pretty mature so we kept an eye on them. Later in the afternoon, they got up and started to browse a bit, so I cow-called. The bigger guy immediately turned our way, located where we were, and quickly walked directly towards us, doing the “head swagger” and grunting and drooling with every step.
The wind was just right to turn him towards our meat pole. When he was about thirty yards from the pole I got him to stop. My son had a direct broadside shot and double-lunged him perfectly. He didn’t drop in place, but ran about a hundred yards and died in a spruce thicket. We got him all butchered-up, bagged and hauled back to camp a little past mid-nite.
It was an older bull on the decline and missing some teeth…and the remaining teeth were pretty beat-up. His rack had a lot of character. The top of the palms were thinner and had been extensively rubbed-down and chipped from raking and head-banging the past month. The points on the sides of the palms were not very extended. However, the beams were large diameter and brow-tines were well palmated on both sides…a 5x4, 52”. (My son gave me permission to post his picture).
Our method for hauling meat loads for the past four years…