bz_711
WKR
- Joined
- May 7, 2012
- Messages
- 806
Congrats and welcome to the addicts club!
Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for sharing.
A buddy of mine turned me onto this right lung/left lung theory he has. And I think it’s true! You hit this elk in the left lung correct?This fella made me work for it.
I’ve been seeing red when it comes to a truly DIY general unit public land hunt. I’m a native Montanan, and have struck out time and time again trying to get a bull down. I never really had any interest in playing the private/public boundary game. Not saying there is anything wrong with that, just not my cup of tea. I chose a new area that I e-scouted and went in blind at around 4AM. My initial plan was just to glass some chutes, drainages, and clearings and make a gameplan for the following couple of days based on what I saw. After a couple miles of walking through crunchy snow, I noticed multiple sets of fresh tracks from a bachelor group disappearing into thick timber. It was still long before first light, so I marked the spot and continued to my first glassing point. The basin was illuminated by the moonlight, with towering spires encompassing 270 degrees around me. I found more fresh tracks, and started to get excited. I set up shop and waited around for first light, as there was ample opportunity to glass miles of terrain. First light comes and goes, without any sighting whatsoever. The snow is still too crunchy to try and cut into the thick timber, so I pressed on further to see what the terrain looked like ahead. After climbing another 1000 or so feet and not crossing any more tracks, I backtracked down to where the fresh tracks were and started to follow their path. It was a bachelor group of three bulls who had by the look of it been enjoying the spring fed creek and grass in a clearing roughly 400 yards by 400 yards. Looked like they had been there a couple of days and had moved on shortly before I arrived. I cut into the timber, making sure to not make too much noise while attempting to navigate the deadfall and treacherous footing. After another mile or so the droppings became fresh, still warm, and I could smell elk, even though I was upwind. Creeping forward, I hear a lone bugle no less than 100 yards away. It sounded monstrous. My adrenaline surged and I had to remind myself to keep calm. I continue to press forward, and I snap a large branch concealed under the snow. My heart sinks as I hold still, trying to assess if I bumped them. After a couple minutes I continue forward, tracking their paths through timber so thick that I’m amazed a bull could even navigate through with their antlers. Eventually I come down a hill and look up and see patches of brown and antler no more than 50 yards away. (reviewing OnX after it was 40). Time stands still and all sound disappears as I slowly raise my rifle and squeeze off a shot. *CRACK* I see him take off down a hill, and my heart sinks, thinking that I missed. “How could I have possibly missed?” I immidietely chambered another round of 7PRC and walked over to where they were, and began to follow the tracks. I traced their path for 5-700 yards and didn’t see any blood. I’m furious and bummed out. I thought for SURE I hit him. He was quartered and beginning to turn when I squeezed off the shot, but it seemed perfect. I circled back to where I thought he was and looked a bit closer, and I realized I was following the wrong tracks. Thick timber is crazy when mixed with an adrenaline dump. I start following the blood trail and it’s looking promising. After about a mile of tracking I see him again, and I realized that he was an absolute unit. He’s also still standing after what I discovered later to be a lung shot (not sure if the bullet fragmented too soon/not enough at that range? I’m amazed he was able to go as far as he did). I hit him again in the boiler maker, and he tried to run again but doesn’t make it far before collapsing. At this point I’m in shock. I couldn’t be happier with my first bull! Climbed a bit over 2000’ of elevation, postholing through 6-12” of snow. Finished the day with around 19 miles travelled. Started at 4AM, finished around midnight. Would have been happy and grateful for a cow, but was blessed with a bull. It amazes me how resilient and majestic these animals are. So grateful to harvest the best meat on earth in my favorite place on earth. Grateful for my brother to come out and help pack this beast out! I know he’s not the biggest or craziest bull, but this is an experience I’ll never forget. If this is the last or largest bull I ever get then I’ll still consider myself happy.View attachment 796142
Well done on a great hunt and thank you for sharing the story. Where I come from that's a bull of a lifetime for the vast majority of hunters.This fella made me work for it.
I’ve been seeing red when it comes to a truly DIY general unit public land hunt. I’m a native Montanan, and have struck out time and time again trying to get a bull down. I never really had any interest in playing the private/public boundary game. Not saying there is anything wrong with that, just not my cup of tea. I chose a new area that I e-scouted and went in blind at around 4AM. My initial plan was just to glass some chutes, drainages, and clearings and make a gameplan for the following couple of days based on what I saw. After a couple miles of walking through crunchy snow, I noticed multiple sets of fresh tracks from a bachelor group disappearing into thick timber. It was still long before first light, so I marked the spot and continued to my first glassing point. The basin was illuminated by the moonlight, with towering spires encompassing 270 degrees around me. I found more fresh tracks, and started to get excited. I set up shop and waited around for first light, as there was ample opportunity to glass miles of terrain. First light comes and goes, without any sighting whatsoever. The snow is still too crunchy to try and cut into the thick timber, so I pressed on further to see what the terrain looked like ahead. After climbing another 1000 or so feet and not crossing any more tracks, I backtracked down to where the fresh tracks were and started to follow their path. It was a bachelor group of three bulls who had by the look of it been enjoying the spring fed creek and grass in a clearing roughly 400 yards by 400 yards. Looked like they had been there a couple of days and had moved on shortly before I arrived. I cut into the timber, making sure to not make too much noise while attempting to navigate the deadfall and treacherous footing. After another mile or so the droppings became fresh, still warm, and I could smell elk, even though I was upwind. Creeping forward, I hear a lone bugle no less than 100 yards away. It sounded monstrous. My adrenaline surged and I had to remind myself to keep calm. I continue to press forward, and I snap a large branch concealed under the snow. My heart sinks as I hold still, trying to assess if I bumped them. After a couple minutes I continue forward, tracking their paths through timber so thick that I’m amazed a bull could even navigate through with their antlers. Eventually I come down a hill and look up and see patches of brown and antler no more than 50 yards away. (reviewing OnX after it was 40). Time stands still and all sound disappears as I slowly raise my rifle and squeeze off a shot. *CRACK* I see him take off down a hill, and my heart sinks, thinking that I missed. “How could I have possibly missed?” I immidietely chambered another round of 7PRC and walked over to where they were, and began to follow the tracks. I traced their path for 5-700 yards and didn’t see any blood. I’m furious and bummed out. I thought for SURE I hit him. He was quartered and beginning to turn when I squeezed off the shot, but it seemed perfect. I circled back to where I thought he was and looked a bit closer, and I realized I was following the wrong tracks. Thick timber is crazy when mixed with an adrenaline dump. I start following the blood trail and it’s looking promising. After about a mile of tracking I see him again, and I realized that he was an absolute unit. He’s also still standing after what I discovered later to be a lung shot (not sure if the bullet fragmented too soon/not enough at that range? I’m amazed he was able to go as far as he did). I hit him again in the boiler maker, and he tried to run again but doesn’t make it far before collapsing. At this point I’m in shock. I couldn’t be happier with my first bull! Climbed a bit over 2000’ of elevation, postholing through 6-12” of snow. Finished the day with around 19 miles travelled. Started at 4AM, finished around midnight. Would have been happy and grateful for a cow, but was blessed with a bull. It amazes me how resilient and majestic these animals are. So grateful to harvest the best meat on earth in my favorite place on earth. Grateful for my brother to come out and help pack this beast out! I know he’s not the biggest or craziest bull, but this is an experience I’ll never forget. If this is the last or largest bull I ever get then I’ll still consider myself happy.View attachment 796142
I'm not saying you're theory is wrong, but I had the opposite happen on my best whitetail. Hit him in the near (right) lung from the ground at 32 yards. He bounded away with the arrow jumping up and down with each leap. We gave him 3 hours and found him still alive and laying down in a cut corn field about 3/4 mile away from the shot. Finished him right there with another through both lungs (entered the left side).I’ve thought about all my long tracks of whitetails on a single lung and they’ve all been left lung shots. Neighbor killed an absolute tank, 183” whitetail. Hit it in the shoulder blade with arrow. He watched the buck run away with 90+% of his arrow sticking out, and he grew sick to his stomach! Next morning he recovered that deer within 100 yards, broad head just barely penetrated the shoulder blade, popping the right lung and the rest was history.