Elk Hunting Memories

elkhunter49 · Jul 17, 2010

I'm off work for a few days and just got thru watching yet another guy I don't know elk hunt on a ranch I'll never get to hunt. In the middle of my self pity party I got to thinking about some of the better hunts I've been lucky enough to be a part of.
I'll do my best to recount one hunt that I took with a lifelong hunting buddy and co worker.
Roger and I were Elk hunting GMU 66 near Lake City, Colorado in 1988 or 89 and we both had muzzleloader bull tags. It was the 3rd evening of a 5 day hunt and we were not seeing many elk. We had hunted at about 9500ft the first 2 days and decided we would move up higher to timberline at about 11,000ft. We were in the LaGarita Wilderness Area and had not seen another hunter all day.
As soon as the sun went behind the mountains we spotted several cows and a nice 6x6 bull come out of the dark timber and move into the open area above timberline. They were only about 600yards from us but between us was a creek drainage that would take at least an hour to climb down into,cross and climb back out of. We didn't have enough time so we planned on intercepting them in the morning when they headed back to bed down.
The anticipation of the next days hunt made sleep impossible for me that night.
Finally it was time to head up the mountain. It had snowed about 2 inches during the night and it was cold as hell.
We decided we would try to set up our ambush as close to the trail that they used the night before as the wind would allow. After finding what we thought was the ideal spot we waited for daylight. We could hear the cows chirping at each other but the bull never bugled. We had plenty of shooting light when the bull decided to take his cows to timber and bed them down but they were heading away from where they emerged from the evening before. Instead of walking into our trap the old bull took his girls to a patch of timber that was only about 200 yards long by about 70 yards wide.
We watched the herd enter the timber thinking they were just passing thru to the north facing dark timber. Wrong again !!! They never left that small patch of Blue Spruce, Lodgepole Pine, and Quakies.
Well we sat and watched them for about an hour then decided we would try and and move in on him and maybe one of us could get a clear shot.
We agreed we would take all day covering the 100 or so yards if need be and spread out by about 50 yards to get 2 different angles for a shot.
We checked the wind for the 1000th time and moved up a step at a time. With every step we took we would wait and make eye contact with the other before proceeding. It took us about 2 hours to get where we could see elk. The set up was perfect, wind was still good and the bull had only one cow between us and him. At about 90 yards I thought I had a shot but I just didn't have enough of his shoulder or neck so we pressed on. We were moving a foot at a time and every sense I have was at warp speed as well as Rogers. I felt like I was only 5 or 6 steps from a shot when Roger locked up like pointer on a covey.He wouldn't look left or right and I swear he wasn't even breathing. After staring at him for several minutes I finally saw the problem. Roger had a spike bull about 10 yards from him that had to have crawled out of a hole. That spike was not with the group when they entered that small patch of timber but he was dang sure was there now. The young bull was already flaring his nose when I finally made him out. Seconds later he stomped his front right leg and barked one time.
The next few seconds were closer to a stamped than anything else and the last I saw of the herd they were headed for Creede. We never fired a shot.
Sorry for the long post but it is nice to take a trip down memory lane ever so often. Man we had a great time and I'll always rate that hunt as one of my favorites even though we never busted a cap. Later Baker

justr_86 · Jul 18, 2010

Cool story, I will post up mine when I have a little more time.

Calif_Mike · Jul 19, 2010

Very cool story, thanks for sharing. That is what this site is about for me.

elkhunter49 · Jul 19, 2010

Thanks for the kind words fellas. Baker

NickW · Jul 19, 2010

LAST EDITED ON Jul-19-10 AT 06:46PM (MST)[p]LAST EDITED ON Jul-19-10 AT 06:40?PM (MST)

A few years ago, my adult son and I were hunting elk in Colorado. It was only the second time that we had hunted elk together and I was already on cloud nine for that reason. We had left camp in the dark and drove to the mouth of a side canyon that went in about 3 miles from the main canyon.
We began slowly climbing the steep nose, planning on being high enough to be able to glass into the entire canyon at first light. The breeze was coming down canyon and hopes were high, as we knew this drainage hadn't been hunted recently. Slowly climbing, stopping, glassing, climbing more, and glassing more, we neared the top of the plateau. As the daylight grew brighter, eventually turning to sun rise, we were a bit let down having not spotted any elk. We stopped for about an hour, picking apart the timber across the canyon and the oak brush on our side. We finally decided to top out, get back from the edge and have a snack. The combination of a warming sun and food, soon had my son on his back snoring softly. I decided to move farther back from the edge and make a quick cell call home to check in with the warden and let her know what we had been up to since my last parole hearing! With all clear on the home front and seeing my son starting to move around, we made plans on how we would proceed from here.
We slowly made our way to the head of the canyon by staying back away from the edge and about every 100 yds crawl out to the edge and glass.
About noon we began making a slow stalk down into the hole. We stayed within sight of each other, as we moved into a small patch of quakies. I immediately came across a fresh elk bed. Bull, I thought, because of the strong smell and piss hole in the center of the bed.
I motioned to my son on what I had seen and with hand signals told him, "Bull bed! Tracks meandering down hill! FRESH!!"
The breeze was now gently coming up the canyon, into our faces. Perfect! We went into compound low gear and very, very slowly moved. I, on the tracks and my son about 30-40 yds to my left.
Slowly! Slowly! Eyes stripping away all the oak brush and small firs! Slowly into the wind, heading down.
WTF!!!!!! I smell an elk! Real close!! I glance at my son and slowly touch my nose and point down hill where the breeze is coming from. He smells it as well!
As I stand listening and smelling for natures clues, a bull rack appears above the oak brush RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!....and just as quickly disappears. The bull is feeding 15 yds in front of me and I can only see his rack when he lifts his head to chew and look around! HOLY SHIET!
I slowly motion to my son that the bull is RIGHT THERE and for him to not move a muscle.
While the rack is down I very slowly, in slow motion move slightly to my right. A hole about 18 inches wide in the brush allows me to see elk hide! The rack comes back up and I figure that my shot is going to have to be a little far back, but will angle towards the opposite front shoulder.
Deep breath! Rack goes back down! Safety goes off! DANG! That safety sounded loud!
BOOM!
Elk rears up like a stallion, I shiet my drawers! (not really). He whirls and goes down hill! My son runs to my side and I quietly tell him what happened. He never saw the animal and when asked where it was, I stepped thru the brush and said that he stood here and headed down there. He couldn't believe that it was that close.
We got about 20 yds apart and started down, with fairly thick brush between us. In less than one minute my son shot and yelled for me to come over to him.
The bull lay dead in the brush less than 25 yds. from where he was when I first saw him. My son had immediately spotted him, after we separated and put a shot into his neck, as the bull was still kicking. A real nice 6x6 with a very symmetrical rack. Probably scored close to 300, but still a great bull. I glanced at my watch and it was 12:45 PM
We struggled to get him gutted out, while he laid in the oak brush on the steep hillside. Realizing that it was going to be a real job to get him out of the brush, we decided to cut the head off, as high up the neck as possible.
With the head and antlers off, we were able to get him out to a clear area about 20 yds to the side. Here we had a clear hillside that looked like it went about 100 yds to the bottom of the upper part of this canyon. We cut of his legs at the knee and hock and gave him a kick! He stopped about 10 yds from the bottom, in an old tree well, where we skinned and quartered him. We had some snow in this cold, shaded area and with darkness rapidly approaching, we put the quarters on the snow pack, loaded the backstraps and neck meat into my pack. We drank the remaining water and as we had purposely been doing, peed one last time around our area.
My son carried the head, with antlers, while I followed with both packs and rifles. Out the bottom of the canyon we went and made it to the truck in less than two hours. Arriving back in camp we were greeted by our buddies, a couple of which had already killed typical Colorado raghorns. When the camper shell got opened and the tail gate dropped, so did several jaws, as my bull's rack was easily twice as big as any of the others.
A buddy, my son and I went back up the canyon the next morning and brought the quarters and hide out. I told my son how thankful I was that he gave up his mornings hunt to continue to help packing my elk out! He told my that if I kept killing elk that size, he do it again and again. I cried like a baby!
My son's job has kept him busy and his true calling is hunting waterfowl. He sold pharmaceuticals for years and this past January took over as National Sales Manager for Tanglefree, a waterfowlers dream job. I've killed a few more elk since then and I've been lucky to have had some fantastic duck and goose hunts with him since that time in Colorado back in 2000, but we haven't had the opportunity to hunt elk together since, but in 2011 we plan to burn our Oregon points and hunt together again.
I hope I get to cry like a baby!

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