Edited from my very first elk hunt report.
The next morning we headed back to the top of the same mountain 30 minutes before graylight. The woods felt different in the darkness…larger, quieter and more alive. I can’t really explain it. A third hunter joined us this morning, a long time British pal of mine whom I have fished with many times and he had recently moved to Oregon and taken up bow hunting a month prior. Parker had actually given Neill (that’s his name) his old bow. The three of us silently slipped into the thinned section of woods near the top of the mountain and set up in an area where the mountainside flattens out into a sort of plateau. Portions of it almost look manmade, perhaps a century ago when logging was active here. Parker and Neill sit downwind and uphill from me and I stand in a spot where game might be called in from three directions. They have weeks to hunt because they live there; I have only ten days so I am being given guest privileges. Parker had handed me a Bull Bomb to spray once I got positioned so it would cover our scent. I have never used one of these before but really, it’s a spray can…how hard can it be? (I know some of you who hunt are already laughing.)
The air is still, the first blue fingers of light are piercing the crisp morning sky and I point the Bull Bomb in front of me and press the button. A moment later I see the slight imperceptive breeze blowing in my direction as the fine mist envelopes me. Inhaling 100% genuine fresh elk urine first thing in the morning will outperform coffee every time. OMG! How FN stupid can I be?!
As I fight the urge to cough, choke, puke and spit I just know my two friends are fighting urges of their own. Musta been a gut buster watching me douse myself in elk pee. I spray in all other directions and the sky grows brighter. That’s when I learned lesson #2 about Bull Bombs…they are insect magnets. In moments I have literally thousands of biting, stinging bugs all over me. I pull up my bandit, (3/4 facemask) pull down my beanie and put on my gloves. As I write this a week later my hands and face still look like a teenage pizza employee’s face. My hands actually began swelling and looked freakishly plump for five days. Benadryl didn’t help.
So there I am, bugs getting caught in my eyes as I blink, buzzing is all I can hear and I’m trying to focus as Parker chirps (a subtle elk cow call) for bulls. The three of us are being eaten alive and after an hour we decide to beat it outta there. Yes, I have Thermacell (a little device that keeps bugs off you)…it’s right there in the truck two miles away. (Insert self administered bitch-slap here).