Tallfeller454
Lil-Rokslider
- Joined
- May 24, 2017
- Messages
- 219
Long read!
I met Matt 3 years ago while on a hunt in Nebraska in the Sandhills. We had just harvested a good whitetail buck as Matt and his dad popped over the ridge above us. Matt had harvested a damn nice mule deer the day before and his dad was after a whitetail. They congratulated us on the long successful stalk and went on their way. We ran into them again back at campground and swapped numbers in hopes of linking up for a hunt in the future.
Fast forward to this year. I draw a decent second season CO mule deer tag. Matt and I had stayed in touch over the years and he mentions he would like to tag along and possibly snag an OTC elk tag. So the plan is set. We will focus on my tag and by chance if we run into some bulls we will change course.
Matt flys into KC from New York, lands at 10:30 pm, throws his stuff in the truck, and we drive through the night to our unit. While picking up some camp supplies at Walmart, me buying a bull tag is brought up and Matt says let's flip a coin. I call tails and wouldn't you know it lands on tails. I break out the CC and now have a bull tag. We bomb up the mountain set up camp a few days early and head out to scout. Over the next day and a half we pick up a few bucks and one absolute giant buck along with a few herds of elk. Buddy of mine (Hunter) makes it out to camp the day before season and we have high hopes for opening day.
Opening day is here and over the morning we glass up a few younger 150-160 bucks but no shooter and no elk. We move around to glass some other areas and run into a local hunter at noon that points out a big herd 4 miles across the drainage. Hunter looks at Matt and I and says "why are you standing here? Get your $h*t and go!" Matt and I split up he plans to head to the south of the heard and I head to the north. I make my way around to a patch of qaukies after a 4 mile hike, and I run right into the middle of the herd. I pick out the "biggest" bull and let one fly at 412 yds. My first bull elk is on the ground after a couple follow up shots. We pack half the bull out that night and come back the next day to finish up.
Three days go by with sightings of a few decent bucks and some elk mainly on private. We decide to pack up camp, Hunter heads home, and we head to town. We grab a bite to eat, and a hotel to get cleaned up. We wake up at 3:30 and head to the next spot in hopes of glassing at first light. We get close to our glassing spot, making our way through the qaukies at first light Matt picks up some deer with one giant framed buck in the group. We scramble totally caught off guard. I get within 75 yds of the buck struggling to find a shooting lane through all the trees. Finally an opening he is quartered away and I squeeze one off behind the last rib. Buck is hit hard, he takes a few steps and turns broadside, I reload and shoot .....he drops. This buck did nothing but get bigger and more beautiful as we walked up. He was by far the most mature deer we had seen. He was a massive, tall, wide 4x3. We felt beyond blessed to have got so lucky in the qaukies. Snapped some pictures, caped, quartered, and packed out to the truck.
Back to the truck we make our way around the mountain to a spot we felt would be good to fill Matt's tag. Set up camp and get in an evening of glassing but no luck. Two more days go by with only one bull spotted up the ridge. We wake up Saturday to some heavy fog but it's our last day on the mountain. I drop Matt off up the ridge his plan is to stalk down the ridge to where we had spotted the bull few days before. I dropped back to glass the hills side. I pick up a small heard working towards Matt late morning. I feel there is a good chance they will cross paths. I go back to camp to start packing up camp since it's about 3pm now. Matt had been on the mountain all day. As im shuttling stuff from tent to truck I hear a shot! I knew it was Matt it was in the same area I had spotted the herd. Then I get the call "bull down!!" on the last day, third tag notched! I drive up the mountain just below Matt in hopes of an easier pack out. We hike up to his bull, snap some pictures, quarter him, and we get the bright idea to each pack out half a bull. It's about half a mile to the truck down hill in the snow through deadfall. We make it back to the truck slowly but safe. Packs off, stiff backs, all we can do is laugh, and feel blessed to be lucky enough to fill all three tags on this incredible hunt in Ole Colorado.
I met Matt 3 years ago while on a hunt in Nebraska in the Sandhills. We had just harvested a good whitetail buck as Matt and his dad popped over the ridge above us. Matt had harvested a damn nice mule deer the day before and his dad was after a whitetail. They congratulated us on the long successful stalk and went on their way. We ran into them again back at campground and swapped numbers in hopes of linking up for a hunt in the future.
Fast forward to this year. I draw a decent second season CO mule deer tag. Matt and I had stayed in touch over the years and he mentions he would like to tag along and possibly snag an OTC elk tag. So the plan is set. We will focus on my tag and by chance if we run into some bulls we will change course.
Matt flys into KC from New York, lands at 10:30 pm, throws his stuff in the truck, and we drive through the night to our unit. While picking up some camp supplies at Walmart, me buying a bull tag is brought up and Matt says let's flip a coin. I call tails and wouldn't you know it lands on tails. I break out the CC and now have a bull tag. We bomb up the mountain set up camp a few days early and head out to scout. Over the next day and a half we pick up a few bucks and one absolute giant buck along with a few herds of elk. Buddy of mine (Hunter) makes it out to camp the day before season and we have high hopes for opening day.
Opening day is here and over the morning we glass up a few younger 150-160 bucks but no shooter and no elk. We move around to glass some other areas and run into a local hunter at noon that points out a big herd 4 miles across the drainage. Hunter looks at Matt and I and says "why are you standing here? Get your $h*t and go!" Matt and I split up he plans to head to the south of the heard and I head to the north. I make my way around to a patch of qaukies after a 4 mile hike, and I run right into the middle of the herd. I pick out the "biggest" bull and let one fly at 412 yds. My first bull elk is on the ground after a couple follow up shots. We pack half the bull out that night and come back the next day to finish up.
Three days go by with sightings of a few decent bucks and some elk mainly on private. We decide to pack up camp, Hunter heads home, and we head to town. We grab a bite to eat, and a hotel to get cleaned up. We wake up at 3:30 and head to the next spot in hopes of glassing at first light. We get close to our glassing spot, making our way through the qaukies at first light Matt picks up some deer with one giant framed buck in the group. We scramble totally caught off guard. I get within 75 yds of the buck struggling to find a shooting lane through all the trees. Finally an opening he is quartered away and I squeeze one off behind the last rib. Buck is hit hard, he takes a few steps and turns broadside, I reload and shoot .....he drops. This buck did nothing but get bigger and more beautiful as we walked up. He was by far the most mature deer we had seen. He was a massive, tall, wide 4x3. We felt beyond blessed to have got so lucky in the qaukies. Snapped some pictures, caped, quartered, and packed out to the truck.
Back to the truck we make our way around the mountain to a spot we felt would be good to fill Matt's tag. Set up camp and get in an evening of glassing but no luck. Two more days go by with only one bull spotted up the ridge. We wake up Saturday to some heavy fog but it's our last day on the mountain. I drop Matt off up the ridge his plan is to stalk down the ridge to where we had spotted the bull few days before. I dropped back to glass the hills side. I pick up a small heard working towards Matt late morning. I feel there is a good chance they will cross paths. I go back to camp to start packing up camp since it's about 3pm now. Matt had been on the mountain all day. As im shuttling stuff from tent to truck I hear a shot! I knew it was Matt it was in the same area I had spotted the herd. Then I get the call "bull down!!" on the last day, third tag notched! I drive up the mountain just below Matt in hopes of an easier pack out. We hike up to his bull, snap some pictures, quarter him, and we get the bright idea to each pack out half a bull. It's about half a mile to the truck down hill in the snow through deadfall. We make it back to the truck slowly but safe. Packs off, stiff backs, all we can do is laugh, and feel blessed to be lucky enough to fill all three tags on this incredible hunt in Ole Colorado.
