My dad, brothers and I have been going to the same unit in Colorado for first rifle season for the last few years and we’ve been successful for 3 out of 5 tags. 2022 was our first elk hunt together and my brother and I had bull tags. We got there a day and a half early to scout and set up camp. Friday morning I was driving to a glassing point and saw some elk crossing from private hay fields, and going into national forest to bed. All I saw were cows, but I made a plan to get on them in the morning assuming there was a bull in the group. My dad and brother scouted a different spot and saw a bull right at first light. It was looking promising! Opening morning, I made the hike into where I saw the group the day before. I caught up to them and they were crossing an adjacent ridge about 400 yards from me. I sat and watched the group until they all filtered through and only saw cows and a spike. Disappointed, I got up to go to another spot and realized my range finder had fallen out. I milled around looking for it for about 10 minutes, when I saw the elk going through another opening. So I sat down to watch them again, and this time, a 4 point bull steps out at the back of the group. I couldn’t range him, but estimated him to be 400 yards. I wasn’t quite comfortable with that shot not knowing the range, so I tried to close some distance. I made it about 75 yards and he saw me. We had a stare down for what felt like an eternity and he was facing straight at me. When he turned broadside to go into the timber, I shot. I heard the bullet hit, but followed up with another. The second shot was high but put him down. I was so excited to get a bull on my first opening day! Not a huge bull, but I didn’t care. I named him Al since I was after Anything Legal 
. We hunted hard the rest of the week, but couldn’t get my brother on a bull. I saw one scouting but never turned him up again, and my dad and I jumped a couple rag horns right off an ATV trail, but my brother wasn’t with us. Just wasn’t in the right place at the right time.
Last year my dad was the only one to get a tag. We just knew we’d turn up a bull where we jumped the rag horns last year, but apparently everyone else thought there were elk in there too and that area got crowded. We saw one group of elk on private but didn’t turn up much the first few days of season. We walked my dad to death though trying to find something. Finally on day 3 I spotted a group of elk in a clear cut. It required a 2+ mile hike in and 1,000 ft of elevation gain, much of which was nasty deadfall, but we made a plan for the morning of day 4. We got up early (not early enough) and started hiking in. My dad clocked nearly 40k steps the day before, so he was already beat. We were scrambling through deadfall as it was getting light. I was losing hope since we were going to be late getting into position. We finally got into position nearly an hour after first light. I started cow calling hoping to turn something up. After about 10 minutes, we hear what we assume was an elk running down the hill away from us. I assumed we called a bull in, but didn’t see him and he spooked. I was really bummed at this point since I thought we blew our only chance. I walked down the ridge a bit hoping to get eyes on whatever we scared off, when all of the sudden, BOOM! I ran back over to my dad, to see a nice 5x6 bull in an opening 250 yards away. The bull was still standing, so I kept telling my dad to put another in him. The second shot was perfect and he buckled hard. The last shot was just insurance. My two brothers got to watch the whole thing from a glassing spot about 1,000 yards away. It took us 2 hours to climb back through deadfall and up the ridge to where the bull was, but it was definitely a relief to get to him. My dad says this was his first and last elk…we’ll see about that.
This year we went back to the same unit, but could only get cow tags. As many of you know, this October was much warmer, and the hunting was pretty slow. We saw one group moving from public to private right at last light, but could never get on them. Then one morning, my brother saw a group of cows crossing right in the area where I shot my bull a couple years before. Sure enough, we hike in the next morning, and the elk are on the same exact ridge. We get set up to double up on a couple cows. My brother shoots first and drops one. I shoot second and just flat miss. I jerked the trigger trying to rush the shot. I didn’t want to follow up with a second shot, because it was impossible to tell which one I shot at once they started moving off. We got his cow packed out and finished the night with some tenderloin, heart, and a glass of whiskey. Not a bad evening! I hunted the next morning, but dint turn up anything. Ended the hunt a little early to get back home for a friend’s wedding. We’ll see what next year brings, but 3 out of 5 so far isn’t too shabby in my book.
. We hunted hard the rest of the week, but couldn’t get my brother on a bull. I saw one scouting but never turned him up again, and my dad and I jumped a couple rag horns right off an ATV trail, but my brother wasn’t with us. Just wasn’t in the right place at the right time.Last year my dad was the only one to get a tag. We just knew we’d turn up a bull where we jumped the rag horns last year, but apparently everyone else thought there were elk in there too and that area got crowded. We saw one group of elk on private but didn’t turn up much the first few days of season. We walked my dad to death though trying to find something. Finally on day 3 I spotted a group of elk in a clear cut. It required a 2+ mile hike in and 1,000 ft of elevation gain, much of which was nasty deadfall, but we made a plan for the morning of day 4. We got up early (not early enough) and started hiking in. My dad clocked nearly 40k steps the day before, so he was already beat. We were scrambling through deadfall as it was getting light. I was losing hope since we were going to be late getting into position. We finally got into position nearly an hour after first light. I started cow calling hoping to turn something up. After about 10 minutes, we hear what we assume was an elk running down the hill away from us. I assumed we called a bull in, but didn’t see him and he spooked. I was really bummed at this point since I thought we blew our only chance. I walked down the ridge a bit hoping to get eyes on whatever we scared off, when all of the sudden, BOOM! I ran back over to my dad, to see a nice 5x6 bull in an opening 250 yards away. The bull was still standing, so I kept telling my dad to put another in him. The second shot was perfect and he buckled hard. The last shot was just insurance. My two brothers got to watch the whole thing from a glassing spot about 1,000 yards away. It took us 2 hours to climb back through deadfall and up the ridge to where the bull was, but it was definitely a relief to get to him. My dad says this was his first and last elk…we’ll see about that.
This year we went back to the same unit, but could only get cow tags. As many of you know, this October was much warmer, and the hunting was pretty slow. We saw one group moving from public to private right at last light, but could never get on them. Then one morning, my brother saw a group of cows crossing right in the area where I shot my bull a couple years before. Sure enough, we hike in the next morning, and the elk are on the same exact ridge. We get set up to double up on a couple cows. My brother shoots first and drops one. I shoot second and just flat miss. I jerked the trigger trying to rush the shot. I didn’t want to follow up with a second shot, because it was impossible to tell which one I shot at once they started moving off. We got his cow packed out and finished the night with some tenderloin, heart, and a glass of whiskey. Not a bad evening! I hunted the next morning, but dint turn up anything. Ended the hunt a little early to get back home for a friend’s wedding. We’ll see what next year brings, but 3 out of 5 so far isn’t too shabby in my book.
