So where to begin, I found out that I got drawn for a bull elk hunt back in May on my annual catfishing trip in Arizona. At that point I decided I would dedicate as much time as possible to get a trophy elk as possible. Due to having an 11, 6 and 18 month old kids at home this just didn't happen. I had to put off all of the early season scouting off and tend to family stuff. In September I went out to get the rifle ready for the hunt. I started reloading to work up the optimal load and perfect my shot. The gun decided that it didn't want to shoot no matter what the load was that I was trying. I took it to a local gunsmith to look at it with his borescope. He told me that he could lapp the barrel and get it back to good. I told him to bed and float the action/barrel to make sure it was as good as possible. When I got the gun back and inspected it, I found the barrel to be etched and the bedding to be uneven. I was pissed. After a fight with the smith and getting nowhere, my wonderful wife told me to just buy a new rifle. I ordered a 338-378 Weatherby and Sportsmans Warehouse came through with an overnight delivery. I got the gun dialed in and was finally finally feeling good. My son and I went up to scout over Veterans day weekend. We scouted over 3 days and didn't see a thing. On the last day we finally saw and elk up in the Grafton wilderness. I decided that this would be where we should concentrate the hunt.
We arrived for the hunt 2 days early and camped on the North Creek road. As soon as camp was set up we headed up the road and watched the sun set on Grafton. On Wednesday we decided to try out Cave Valley and see what it held. The weather had another idea. Snow and rain blew in and made hunting suck. We headed back to camp around noon to make a plan for opening day. When we were in camp, another hunter from the Early Hunt stopped by to tell us he had filled his tag on the last day. He had shot a spike about a mile into the wilderness. I decided that I would help him pack his kill out and do some scouting while I was up in there. We hiked into the wilderness and packed out his kill. I didn't see a thing.
The next day, Opening day, my dad and I decided that we would hike back up into the wilderness and hunt and then help pack out the rest of the other hunters kill. The weather decided to open up the clouds and dump snow on us. On the hike up it was almost a white out. We saw a little 5 pointer and that was it. We walked up to the meat and decided that we should get off the mountain before it got worse.
That night a coworker showed up to help out. We decided that Mule Shoe would be a good place to hunt. We took 2 trucks down so that we could split up. Within a mile of being off the highway my buddy got stuck while pulling a Rhino. We unhooked the Rhino and went on our way. We were looking up a ridge for elk and my buddy spotted about 80 elk in his rearview mirror. We turned around and tried to cut them off. While waiting for the elk to come my way, I got a call on the walkie talkie that my buddy was stuck and I needed to come pull him out. After pulling him out, we decided to head up a fence line. On one of the uphill portions I managed to hit a snow drift and get my truck stuck. I was about 12" from a barbed wire fence and getting nervous. After a couple hours and 2 come-alongs, I was unstuck and the day was over. The next couple of days were spent looking for elk and nothing big. On Sunday, my buddy had to go home. We walked into the wilderness on a nice bull, but could not get him. My buddy and Mom left that night, It would be left to my Dad and I.
Over the next couple days my Dad and I hunted Cave Valley, Mule Shoe and the Wilderness. We decided that if I was going to get a decent bull that it would be in the wilderness. On Wednesday the 27th we parked at the North Creek trailhead at 2 pm and started glassing the mountain. At about dark I saw a bull. I watched him and 3 other bulls appeared. I got the chills when I saw them because I knew one of them was mine.
Then next day (Thanksgiving Day) my Dad and I set out at 5 am. We hiked for a couple of hours before we spotted the bulls. 3 hours later I was within shooting distance. I was 550 yds from a decent 6x6. I shot and nothing happened. Shot again and I was still high (left the drop chart in the truck). The third shot hit the spot and he just crumbled. It took 1.5 hrs to walk up to him and start dressing him. 3 hours later we were ready to haul him out. We had brought in some saucer sleds for packing out the meat. We loaded up the saucers and I put the rack on my backpack. By 4 pm we were exhausted and still way up on the mountain. My Dad decided the best thing to do would be to hang the meat up in a tree and come back later. We hung it up and bailed off the mountain. We were soaked and tired and decided to go into Ely to recoup and dry our clothes. On Saturday we hiked back up into the wilderness with the help of another hunter to pack out my kill. It took another 7 hours to get back to my truck.
It was the hardest, most rewarding hunt I have ever experienced. I lost over 15 pounds and am still sore. If it wasn't for my Mom, Coworker, fellow hunter James, and especially for my Dad, this would not have happened. When I first shot the bull, I thought it was about a 330-340 bull, I have since found that it is only a 270-280 bull. I still think he is the trophy of a lifetime due to the work and effort involved.
I appreciate all the help and support from this site.
thanks
Thomas
