HunterHarry
Long Time Member
- Messages
- 5,002
LAST EDITED ON Oct-18-10 AT 10:04PM (MST) by Founder (admin)[p]LAST EDITED ON Oct-13-10 AT 05:48?PM (MST)
WOW.
What a ride.
It started with my son drawing a great youth tag for a New Mexico muzzleloader elk hunt.
I tried my best to collect info on the unit from several different sources including the great guys here at MM.
I've hunted most all western states but I had never been to New Mexico before.
Little was I to know what events were about to unfold.
After hunting our local blacktail deer steadily since early July through the end of September our eyes and legs were finley tuned for the fall hunts ahead.
We drove for about sixteen hours from our home in northern California and arrived a couple of days early to acclimate to the area.
We had a list of about five areas that we had high hopes for and a couple of priorities for Saturday's opener.
On thursday morning I was organizing gear in the back of the pickup when Thomas had the bug to get up the mountain and do some glassing in hopes of finding a good bull.
I told him to go ahead and I'd meet him on the knob in a while.
Well, about 45 minutes go by and I hear rocks rolling in my direction as Thomas comes scrambling down the hill with a panicked look on his face.
"Grab your binoculars and get up here RIGHT NOW!", he says to me.
I knew something BIG was going on due to his tone of voice.
"You're not going to believe this", he says to me...
I get into position behind a cedar, crouch down and take my first look through the spotting scope.
Up on the opposite face there he is.
A bull of several lifetimes.
A super massive 8x6 with inlines, points as long as my arms and incredible whale tails.
I am blown away and we both are nearly trembling with excitement.
Here is a look through the spotter....
We continued looking at the giant and his harem of cows for several hours before sneaking back out.
We would be hot on this bull opening morning.
Simply unbelievable.
We had a day and a half to wait till opening day and the wait was killing us, time drug on so slowly we couldn't stand it.
Friday evening we snuck back to the lookout and found the giant again, bugling, rutting and controlling the smaller satellite bulls, he was the King of the mountain.
Opening morning we rose early with a nervous pit in our stomach's knowing what lay ahead.
I brewed a quick pot of coffee, we slurped it down , donned our packs and off we went.
We raced up the ridge to "our" lookout.
Thomas gets there first, looks back at me as I approach and our hearts just sink.
A guide is sitting on the very rock that Thomas first glassed the bull from.
He has his binoculars in one hand and a radio in the other.
The local guide team have the bull pegged and have spotters and blockers on every vantage point.
We were completely outgunned.
Heartsick, we tell the guide that we will skirt the outside perimeter in case the bull buggers and squirts over the saddle.
Inside I knew we were simply screwed.
We scrambled down the wash and up over the mountain to the saddle.
I thought I heard a muffled shot, but continued on.
We reach the saddle to see cows and several smaller bulls leaving the area.
As we crest the ridge a quick look through my glasses told the story.
I saw a guide and a young hunter standing over the giant bull about six hundred yards away.
UGGGGGGGGgg.
Well, we realized that we were lucky to be here at all, so we congratulated the young hunter and guide.
We shook their hands and left to find another bull with the wind out of our sails.
We found a 310 6x6 in a draw with a herd of cows.
Thomas looked him over, but after looking at the giant this bull seemed really insignificant.
As he tried to get closer for a better look, I watched from across the canyon.
Just as he got to the rocky knob overlooking the bull, the wind shifted and the elk poured over the top of the mountain.
We hiked out of the draw, up over the mountain and took a minute to glass the gut pile of the giant, both still in shock as to "what if?" and the usual coulda, shoulda & woulda's.
We got back to the truck exhausted.
We regrouped, loaded up and left the area.
We talked over another strategy.
We decided to hunt the other side of the mountain range, working on a tip of another big bull.
We lost some time as we had to refuel the truck, and grab a bite to eat.
We headed off and I filled my role as navigator.
We lost that evening's hunt and awoke in the new area early the next day.
I got the coffee on and we struck out for the new canyon with new promise and renewed hope.
At about 7am, I park the truck, we get out and start the new day's hunt.
We don't get twenty yards away from the truck and Thomas yells out....."DAD!"
He's holding up something with a real concern in his voice.
I walk over and in disbelief look at his find.
Wow!
That don't happen every day!
We agreed to take the handgun to the local Sheriff on the way out as it was the right thing to do.
I put the gun in the truck and we continued our hunt.
We hiked up the draw about two miles, all the while in stealth mode listening for distant bugles or glimpses of elk.
We decided to hike the opposite slope but first decided a few calls might be productive.
I make a few pleading cow calls followed by a wimpy bull bugle.
Several minutes pass, then a bull erupts with a raspy sounding bugle.
It seems to be still quite a ways from us.
We hurry up the hill which was quite a hike straight up.
As we crest the top, we hear him again, this time he is coming straight toward us and we can also hear his harem of cows.
We decide to sit down right there and set up.
Thomas readies his Knight muzzleloader and gets a solid rest as he readies for this eminent encounter.
Suddenly, I see an elk.
I throw up my Swarovski's and there he is.
About 150 yards away I see the bull, he has very good browtines and heavy beams.
I whisper "SHOOT!"
It seems like an eternity, then "BOOM!" followed by a cloud of white smoke.
The bull still stands humped up as the cows crash through the timber.
Thomas frantically reloads his rifle, which is a mad scramble at best.
He gets the thing ready to roll and the woods are silent.
We let the bull sit for a few minutes, then Thomas cautiously sneaks forward.
I see him level his rifle and "BOOM!" he fires again.
I then head the most Hellacious crash, it sounds like a semi rig crashing through the trees.
Thomas shouts out at the top of his lungs.....
"I JUST SMOKED A TOAD!"
"I LOVE YOU DAD!"
WOW.
I proudly holler back..."I LOVE YOU THOMAS!"
WE topped the hill and look down and can see the path of destruction where the bull crashed, flipped and careened down the mountain to his final resting place.
AS we approach the downed bull we realize that in the crash down the mountain he has broken off his browtines.
After some glory shots it was time for Dad to get to work.
As I skinned & caped the bull I found the perfectly mushroomed bullet.
The .50 cal Barnes TMZ performed to perfection.
We savored every moment of this hunt.
After dismantling the bull, we each took a shoulder back to the truck as we started the two mile hike back to get our packs.
We got back to the truck had a quick sandwich and some of the best ice water we had ever drank in our lives.
I put the meat in the ice chest.
We donned the backpack & headed back up the mountain.
I finished the field butchering and filled the packs.
We would have one big final load in the morning.
Exhausted we got under the packs and left the mountain as darkness fell over my son's glorious day.
This is what it's all about....
We reach the bottom of the canyon as darkness fully engulfs us.
As we march along the faintly visible trail a bull blasts off a bugle in our faces not a hundred yards away.
At last we reached the truck, I tell my young man that he had just done something that not many others could and that something this good shouldn't be easy.
He earned ever ounce of this hunt.
Anyone that has backpacked a bull out of the mountains knows what I mean.
It was the way a youth hunt should be, just him & his dad.
Simply awesome.
We awoke the next morning and had a nice breakfast.
Just before leaving for the final load, a truck rolls into camp.
The driver gets out and asks "you guys seen a pistol lying around here?"
Apparently it had fallen off of his belt in the dark.
It felt really good to help out a fellow hunter, he was gracious and very thankful.
Our long drive home was filled with the gratification that comes through hard work.
It was......The best ever.
As a final note, I'd like to thank the guys here at MM that unselfishly helped me out with info and logistics.
You guys were great!
Highmountain
NMHUNTNUTTG
bulls1
nmelkandmuleys
stinkystomper
NMelkhunter
THANK YOU!
HH & Son
WOW.
What a ride.
It started with my son drawing a great youth tag for a New Mexico muzzleloader elk hunt.
I tried my best to collect info on the unit from several different sources including the great guys here at MM.
I've hunted most all western states but I had never been to New Mexico before.
Little was I to know what events were about to unfold.
After hunting our local blacktail deer steadily since early July through the end of September our eyes and legs were finley tuned for the fall hunts ahead.
We drove for about sixteen hours from our home in northern California and arrived a couple of days early to acclimate to the area.
We had a list of about five areas that we had high hopes for and a couple of priorities for Saturday's opener.
On thursday morning I was organizing gear in the back of the pickup when Thomas had the bug to get up the mountain and do some glassing in hopes of finding a good bull.
I told him to go ahead and I'd meet him on the knob in a while.
Well, about 45 minutes go by and I hear rocks rolling in my direction as Thomas comes scrambling down the hill with a panicked look on his face.
"Grab your binoculars and get up here RIGHT NOW!", he says to me.
I knew something BIG was going on due to his tone of voice.
"You're not going to believe this", he says to me...
I get into position behind a cedar, crouch down and take my first look through the spotting scope.
Up on the opposite face there he is.
A bull of several lifetimes.
A super massive 8x6 with inlines, points as long as my arms and incredible whale tails.
I am blown away and we both are nearly trembling with excitement.
Here is a look through the spotter....
We continued looking at the giant and his harem of cows for several hours before sneaking back out.
We would be hot on this bull opening morning.
Simply unbelievable.
We had a day and a half to wait till opening day and the wait was killing us, time drug on so slowly we couldn't stand it.
Friday evening we snuck back to the lookout and found the giant again, bugling, rutting and controlling the smaller satellite bulls, he was the King of the mountain.
Opening morning we rose early with a nervous pit in our stomach's knowing what lay ahead.
I brewed a quick pot of coffee, we slurped it down , donned our packs and off we went.
We raced up the ridge to "our" lookout.
Thomas gets there first, looks back at me as I approach and our hearts just sink.
A guide is sitting on the very rock that Thomas first glassed the bull from.
He has his binoculars in one hand and a radio in the other.
The local guide team have the bull pegged and have spotters and blockers on every vantage point.
We were completely outgunned.
Heartsick, we tell the guide that we will skirt the outside perimeter in case the bull buggers and squirts over the saddle.
Inside I knew we were simply screwed.
We scrambled down the wash and up over the mountain to the saddle.
I thought I heard a muffled shot, but continued on.
We reach the saddle to see cows and several smaller bulls leaving the area.
As we crest the ridge a quick look through my glasses told the story.
I saw a guide and a young hunter standing over the giant bull about six hundred yards away.
UGGGGGGGGgg.
Well, we realized that we were lucky to be here at all, so we congratulated the young hunter and guide.
We shook their hands and left to find another bull with the wind out of our sails.
We found a 310 6x6 in a draw with a herd of cows.
Thomas looked him over, but after looking at the giant this bull seemed really insignificant.
As he tried to get closer for a better look, I watched from across the canyon.
Just as he got to the rocky knob overlooking the bull, the wind shifted and the elk poured over the top of the mountain.
We hiked out of the draw, up over the mountain and took a minute to glass the gut pile of the giant, both still in shock as to "what if?" and the usual coulda, shoulda & woulda's.
We got back to the truck exhausted.
We regrouped, loaded up and left the area.
We talked over another strategy.
We decided to hunt the other side of the mountain range, working on a tip of another big bull.
We lost some time as we had to refuel the truck, and grab a bite to eat.
We headed off and I filled my role as navigator.
We lost that evening's hunt and awoke in the new area early the next day.
I got the coffee on and we struck out for the new canyon with new promise and renewed hope.
At about 7am, I park the truck, we get out and start the new day's hunt.
We don't get twenty yards away from the truck and Thomas yells out....."DAD!"
He's holding up something with a real concern in his voice.
I walk over and in disbelief look at his find.
Wow!
That don't happen every day!
We agreed to take the handgun to the local Sheriff on the way out as it was the right thing to do.
I put the gun in the truck and we continued our hunt.
We hiked up the draw about two miles, all the while in stealth mode listening for distant bugles or glimpses of elk.
We decided to hike the opposite slope but first decided a few calls might be productive.
I make a few pleading cow calls followed by a wimpy bull bugle.
Several minutes pass, then a bull erupts with a raspy sounding bugle.
It seems to be still quite a ways from us.
We hurry up the hill which was quite a hike straight up.
As we crest the top, we hear him again, this time he is coming straight toward us and we can also hear his harem of cows.
We decide to sit down right there and set up.
Thomas readies his Knight muzzleloader and gets a solid rest as he readies for this eminent encounter.
Suddenly, I see an elk.
I throw up my Swarovski's and there he is.
About 150 yards away I see the bull, he has very good browtines and heavy beams.
I whisper "SHOOT!"
It seems like an eternity, then "BOOM!" followed by a cloud of white smoke.
The bull still stands humped up as the cows crash through the timber.
Thomas frantically reloads his rifle, which is a mad scramble at best.
He gets the thing ready to roll and the woods are silent.
We let the bull sit for a few minutes, then Thomas cautiously sneaks forward.
I see him level his rifle and "BOOM!" he fires again.
I then head the most Hellacious crash, it sounds like a semi rig crashing through the trees.
Thomas shouts out at the top of his lungs.....
"I JUST SMOKED A TOAD!"
"I LOVE YOU DAD!"
WOW.
I proudly holler back..."I LOVE YOU THOMAS!"
WE topped the hill and look down and can see the path of destruction where the bull crashed, flipped and careened down the mountain to his final resting place.
AS we approach the downed bull we realize that in the crash down the mountain he has broken off his browtines.
After some glory shots it was time for Dad to get to work.
As I skinned & caped the bull I found the perfectly mushroomed bullet.
The .50 cal Barnes TMZ performed to perfection.
We savored every moment of this hunt.
After dismantling the bull, we each took a shoulder back to the truck as we started the two mile hike back to get our packs.
We got back to the truck had a quick sandwich and some of the best ice water we had ever drank in our lives.
I put the meat in the ice chest.
We donned the backpack & headed back up the mountain.
I finished the field butchering and filled the packs.
We would have one big final load in the morning.
Exhausted we got under the packs and left the mountain as darkness fell over my son's glorious day.
This is what it's all about....
We reach the bottom of the canyon as darkness fully engulfs us.
As we march along the faintly visible trail a bull blasts off a bugle in our faces not a hundred yards away.
At last we reached the truck, I tell my young man that he had just done something that not many others could and that something this good shouldn't be easy.
He earned ever ounce of this hunt.
Anyone that has backpacked a bull out of the mountains knows what I mean.
It was the way a youth hunt should be, just him & his dad.
Simply awesome.
We awoke the next morning and had a nice breakfast.
Just before leaving for the final load, a truck rolls into camp.
The driver gets out and asks "you guys seen a pistol lying around here?"
Apparently it had fallen off of his belt in the dark.
It felt really good to help out a fellow hunter, he was gracious and very thankful.
Our long drive home was filled with the gratification that comes through hard work.
It was......The best ever.
As a final note, I'd like to thank the guys here at MM that unselfishly helped me out with info and logistics.
You guys were great!
Highmountain
NMHUNTNUTTG
bulls1
nmelkandmuleys
stinkystomper
NMelkhunter
THANK YOU!
HH & Son
![IMG_20161123_155032041_HDR[1].jpg](/xf/data/xfmg/thumbnail/31/31959-28b49492193dcdcdcc7501f046a6306d.jpg?1673638202)
