Your Best Day Elk Hunting - WIN

Let's hear about one of your funnest days of hunting elk. Simply share a short story telling about the day, what made it so much fun, who was involved and even a photo if you'd like. Something memorable that meant a lot to you. Maybe you harvested your best bull, or your child took their first, or it was an unsuccessful, but memorable day with dad. Feel free to reply with multiple stories too!

Near the end of the month, I'll randomly draw a winner from those who share a good story. The winner will receive an Outdoor Edge Butcher Lite set from our giveaway sponsor, Bad Ass Outdoor Gear. Be sure to give them a chance to earn your business the next time you're looking to upgrade gear. They'll take good care of you.

[font size=+1]Bad Ass Outdoor Gear[/font]

PS - no back and forth, general chit chat. Let's keep this thread about short stories of great days afield.

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Brian Latturner
MonsterMuleys.com
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Founder....I'll start the party! How could I make my best day elk hunting anything other than the biggest bull I've ever shot!

Over the years I've guided roughly 25 bulls over 350" (plenty of guys have guided a lot more) and I've personally killed 12 bulls over 350" (3 over 380") but I have always wanted a 400" bull.

Although I have seen a couple of bulls over 400", I have never had a legit opportunity at one until the fall of 2017. I purchased a tag on the Navajo Reservation in AZ, a decision I will never regret.

A guide is required on the Rez, but considering the Rez is 12 million acres it seemed a good idea anyway! Only a few units are considered good elk country, so that number was probably reduced considerably. Regardless, my guide was a true pro - and already had trail cam pics of my (soon to be) bull.

As my cameraman and I arrived on Sept 29th, we were excited to see the area and look for this bull. Problem was it was very flat - PJ country, with no glassing points. Surprisingly enough, we saw him that evening within 400 yards of the truck. Problem was it was getting dark, so seeing him well was not possible. We figured him at 380" plus, but it was honestly hard to tell, as it was so dark.

The next morning (opening day) we went back to the area, but could not locate him. So we decided that evening to go right into the middle of his territory, and wait. We were hoping to simply hear him bugling, and pin point his position. Sure enough as the sun was ready to set - he started to sound off!

We literally hauled butt trying to get to him before dark. He was screaming every minute or so, but it was flat and thick with PJ's, so we just had to keep moving to his calls. I was surprised how much he was moving every minute or so, which made it more difficult. My cameraman was behind me, and the guide, behind him. We were pretty confident it was him.....we just needed to get an open / clear shot.

Finally we got within 60 yards, and as we came around a bush I could only see 1 / 2 of the right side of his rack, nothing more. But from that, I knew it was him. My guide was totally on point, a real pro! As the bull started to leave, he instantly cow called and the bull stopped / turned directly at us, and I instantly shot off-hand.

He bolted, we ran after him and within a minute or two my guide spotted him staggering at 100 yards away. I shot him twice more, he dropped and we had a 402" bull on the ground.

As I walked up to him, I instantly told the guide on film that he's definitely over 390". We took pics, and as the guide went to get the truck I started to butcher the elk. Once we finished, we scored him at 402"......I was shocked! Finally I killed a 400" bull after 25 years of hunting for / searching for a monster bull.

It's simple. It was the hunt 2 years ago that I shot my big bull on. It was the 2nd day of the hunt on Sunday afternoon. If any of you remember the 2016 hunt (Utah LE Rifle) was in the middle of a full moon. It was hot. The first day and that morning we had been close to some bulls, but one got spooked and quit coming to our call, and the big bull we knew was there was in the trees, responding to our calls but wouldn't come out of the trees. We could never see him. Our spotter on the other side of the canyon could see him and us in his scope but couldn't figure out why we weren't shooting.

As we head off the mountain for lunch we drive through an area just to see if there is any thing in there yet. Ran into a guy that my cousin knew that was helping another hunter. Said they were going to try and go into an area on the other side of the canyon the next day.

I head over to my cousins house about 4. And we head up the mountain. He tells me we are going into this area the other guy was talking about as he had been watching a bull that stayed in there and was thinking that would be a good bull to go after later in the hunt, but decided to not risk someone spooking the bull. We go way up the canyon, park the atv's and hike back in along the old road that is now closed. We sit back at the edge of the meadow where on the other side is the pine trees and a big wallow the bull and his cows hung at. We are about 250 yards away. This was about 7pm. With in 15 minutes we hear the bull bugle, but we do nothing. We are just going to wait him out. Wait for them to come out of the pines to feed. The cows come out about 7:25. A few minutes later the bull comes out. We watch him for a minute, make sure he is what we are after and as I'm getting ready to bull the trigger he slowly keeps walking and puts the setting sun right in my scope. I lose the bull and he goes out of sight. This begins a loooooooooong 10 minutes of wondering if he is going to come back before dark. Sun is down we only have about 20 minutes of light left. Finally the bull comes back out. He clears a cow and is broadside about 220 yards away. By this time I will admit that I had bull fever. I was shaking. My cousin saying shoot. I'm trying to calm the adrenilne. Finally get steady and take the shot. The Bull bunches up like he is going to drop turns the upset direction and as we are getting excited that it was a good hit we hear him crash down. I was shocked how loud it was. We get on the phone to the waiting crew on standby thats going to go up and get our machines and then get to us. We head across the meadow to locate the bull. We walk past where he was out. I turn around to where we came from and spot him next to an old dead tree with dead fall. He had stumbled and collapsed over the dead fall maybe 20 yards from where he was standing. When we got close the excitement was over whelming. He was a gorgeous bull. Dark colors, great character on his antlers. One shot from my .270 just in front of the front shoulder 150grain barns tsx. He bled out his mouth, it just tore through his arteries but didn't exit the other side.

From the first Photo we were standing in the stand of red maples behind me.

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The finished Mount:

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Still time to get yourself in to win in this giveaway.

Brian Latturner
MonsterMuleys.com
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My first time archery elk hunting with a tag in my pocket is definitely an experience I will never forget. I was about 17 hunting in Idaho. I had hunted elk and deer with a rifle since I was 12 and had been archery hunting elk with my dad since I was old enough to walk, but something about having your own tag in your pocket always increases the excitement level even more. I bought my bow early in the year and hardly missed a day of shooting it through the summer. When the middle of September rolled around I was ready. I got out of school early on a Thursday and my dad and I headed for the hills. We got camp all set up in the middle of the day so we could do a little investigating in the evening to see where we wanted to be the next morning. We didn't see or hear much to get us excited that evening until right at dark we saw a bull come out into an opening to feed just as it was getting dark. He was up higher on the mountain so the next morning we made a plan to go higher up. It was a little disappointing not hearing any bugles, but I'd been archery hunting with my dad enough to know that things could change rather quickly this time of year. After another night of dreaming of big bulls, we started gaining some elevation before it got light. We had gained a few hundred feet as it was starting to get light and so we began cow calling as we worked our way up the mountain through the timber. The timber began to thin out and offer some really good shooting lanes, so we decided to split up about 50 or 60 yards and call back in forth doing our best to sound like a herd of elk. The rule was if one of us had something start to come in, that guy would stop answering the calls and become the shooter while the other guy would become the caller. We settled in and got to work on the calls. I wasn't expecting much, as it seemed like the elk just weren't responding too well and just hadn't quite got fired up for the rut yet. Not 5 minutes later I started to hear what I thought was twigs breaking up above me in the timber. I kept calling, brushing it off as nothing. Then some more twigs breaking, this time closer. Here is where my heart starts to beat faster than I can ever remember it beating, but still in the back of my mind, I'm thinking it can't be. I've been out here often enough to know that you don't get an elk coming into the calls your first morning. It takes days of work before these things start happening. Nonetheless, I stop my calling. My dad immediately picked up on my signal and started calling more aggressively. I could hear him breaking sticks and creating all kinds of noise. As he did this I start to see the lower half of an elk materializing. Because of the angle I could only see from its brisket down, but it was definitely an elk. If I had thought my heart was beating fast before, now it really starts to kick in. I'm shaking something terrible.

The elk takes a few more steps and I can see that its a bull and he is heading straight towards me. There was one tree perfectly between me and him and he was heading right for it passing all of my pre-ranged markers as he came. 50,40,30,20... As he gets to the tree between us at 15 yards I know he is going to come around it so right before he begins to step around the tree I try to draw my bow. I had gotten 60 lbs back all summer with no problem, but in this moment I was shaking so bad that I couldn't get my bow drawn! As I am struggling with my bow the bull catches movement through the tree and freezes. I realize my attempt at getting this bow back is futile, so I just freeze. Me and the elk just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. The whole time I'm kicking myself cause I know he is just gonna turn and run off any second now. Finally the bull decides he doesn't like what he sees, but instead of running off he begins to slowly circle away from me into some thicker timber. I can't get a window or get him to stop as I see my chances at getting a shot fading. Then for no reason the bull stops at about 40 yards. By some divine intervention the bull stopped in a place where the only thing I could see were his vitals. I knew it was now or never so I took a deep breadth and drew my bow. I got it back this time and I settled my pin behind his shoulder. I was still shaking, but felt confident in the shot as I released. I see my arrow hit a little further back than I wanted and he tears off into the trees below. My dad goes aggressive on the calling again as I'm trying to catch my breadth. After a little bit I realize my dad doesn't even realize I got a shot. I get his attention and he can't believe it either as I tell him what just happened. As we were talking we hear a huge crash about a hundred yards away in the timber. This was cause for celebration, but because I thought my arrow might have been a little back, we decided to give him an hour. Our waiting time was filled with excitement as we called two spikes into 10 yards and had another bull coming in and bugling. After an hour we set out on the blood trail that was clear as day. We didn't go a hundred yards and there he was piled up in the trail. He ended up dying a couple hundred yards from where my dad had killed his last archery bull a few years before. I still think about this moment and can't help, but smile. It was my first morning of archery elk hunting and I had killed a 5-point bull. My dad jokes that it ruined me forever because in 8 years of archery hunting since then I have been at full draw several times, but have yet to loose another arrow. He's probably right, but I don't mind. Every time I'm out there the memories of this morning come flooding back and every trip into the woods is worth it for that.

It was 2016 and me and my dad had a job working on the mountain. He had le bull elk tag in his pocket and we were working it was driving us crazy.so it was the day before we could get back to his le hunt we got off work early and I had my bow and we were in street clothes being at work but we had a cow call and my range finder and decided to go try a little spot we had seen elk in. We walk about two miles down this canyon and was just walking along the pines cow calling when we heard branches brake and I keeled down and dad kept calling when all of a sudden there was a cow standing 30 yards broad side I drew back and let it fly she spun around and took off. My dad said that was close but said I had missed I said no way so we walked over and there was my arrow soaked in blood I was pumped and we followed tracks for 70 yards. and my dad said walk straight threw that thick down fall so I took three steps and yelled shes right here. I was so excited I couldn't believe the feat. I just accomplished. I sat down and gave thanks.i was so happy I finally got me an elk with a bow after a lot of chances but coming up short. We cut her in half and pack her out it was one of my best days of my life and to share it with my dad was even better.








Life ain't about waiting for the Strom to pass.Its about learning to hunt in the rain!

LAST EDITED ON Feb-22-18 AT 08:36PM (MST)[p]One of my favorite memories hunting elk is the first year I was able to harvest a bull. I had hunted elk a couple of times when I was younger, but hadn't spent nearly as much time hunting them as I had chasing deer. I was in my mid twenties and I was finally was able to give it my all chasing elk.

I had spent 7-8 days throughout the hunt trying to find a bull with no success. It was the second to the last day and I felt like I wanted to throw in the towel. I talked with my cousin that night who had been out scouting for deer and he told me about a herd of elk he had seen that some bulls in it.

I felt re-energized and knew where I wanted to be the next morning. The next day I was able to find the herd, but they had moved to the very bottom of the canyon. I spent the rest of the morning and into the afternoon trying to get close enough for a shot. Unfortunately in the process I bumped the herd and was unable to get a shot.

I felt defeated again. I told myself I'd give it one last try that night, but I didn't have a whole lot of hope that I'd see anything. I decided to head back to the last place I saw the herd I been after earlier in the day. I was still hunting through some pines and there was only a few minutes of shooting light left. Just then I looked down into the pines to my left and there was an elk staring at me not 50?yards away! Wholly crap it's a bull!! I pulled up took a quick off hand shot and that was all it took.

It was only a spike, but I had worked so hard for my first bull. I felt so happy and rewarded that I didn't give up. That bull still has a special place on my trophy wall.

LAST EDITED ON Feb-23-18 AT 03:25PM (MST)[p]http://www.monstermuleys.info/photos/user_photos_2018/704812014082711.49.26.jpg

Elk Hunting Success.
Yesterday I had my most successful elk hunt to date and I never saw an elk. I hunted near Soapstone Mountain with my good friend Scott Root. As the morning hunt came to an end and we started heading back to the truck, we came across a fresh set of elk tracks (a cow and a calf). "We have time, let's just follow them for a while." The tracks led us around the hill then turned, dropped in elevation and then a few zig zags. They took me to a tree that had the name "Lynn Clyde" carved on it. I took a picture of it and then one with me in the picture. I thought that was pretty cool and then started following the elk again. Once again the elk went around the hill, dropped in elevation and with a few zigs and zags I found myself standing at the base of another tree marked "Lynn Clyde". I was truly in awe when I saw the third tree with the same name. The first tree was marked 1921, the second 1929 and the third 1928. The tracks then led me back to my truck. Lynn Clyde was my grandfather whom I never had the opportunity to meet. He died when my dad was 1 1/2 years old. He died a year and half after writing his name on the tree marked 1929 which was the year my dad was born. Yesterday I walked where my grandfather walked, I stood where he stood, I leaned against the trees that he leaned against and I listen to the sounds of the forest as he heard them. It was a good day.... as I spent it with my grandfather.

LAST EDITED ON Feb-23-18 AT 07:50PM (MST)[p]One of the very best days I had elk hunting was with my wife three years ago. There are no pictures, (you will soon understand why!) only memories to remember that day, but Oh, What A Day!

We were archery hunting in Wyoming, and I had a bull tag and my wife had a cow tag. We had hiked in a couple miles in the dark, and were covered by elk right from shooting light. This was in high alpine country, with small open parks, and we were carefully trying to get a look at the big bull just over the rise, and at the same time willing to have my wife take a cow if we could get in close.

Cows were milling about on both sides of us, and we finally had a cow feeding into a lane at about 25 yards, a perfect opportunity for my wife. She quickly nocked an arrow, and as she began to draw the elk turned right towards her, eyes seeing her movement as she began to draw. The cow quickly spooked, taking most of the herd slightly over the low hill in front of us. No shot, but my wife was pumped by the close encounter. Little did she know.

We pressed on, moving over the rise trying to dog the herd, which wasn't truly spooked, they had just moved off into the timber. As we crested the rise on the edge of the park, I noticed a back line just ahead, which was an elk with its head down feeding. I signaled my wife to stop, and she was about 15-20 feet behind me in the scattered pines on the edge of the park. As the elk picked up its head, we both quickly saw it was a young 6 point bull, not what I was looking for, and it had another young 5x6 with it. Neither one of us would get a shot, but we remained still to avoid spooking them. They were both feeding as they walked, and they were effectively following (circling) the herd as well, I'm sure trying to steer clear of the herd bull.

We remained motionless as the bulls walked toward us, the 6 point stopping between my wife and I, and the 5x6 stopping just a few steps behind her. The bull between us paused, bugled and took a leak while only about 10 feet behind me, and right in front of my wife. As he finished, he seemed to notice her for the first time as she was in full camo, and then took a step towards her to stretch out his neck and smell her.

She had her hand on her binocular strap across her chest, and the 6 point elk actually stuck out his tough and rubbed his nose on her bare hand! With a start he realized she wasn't a tree, and whirled to get out of there, quick. He actually brushed by me in his flight from us, and I turned fully to look at my wife, who was amazed at what had just happened. She started talking loudly, and excitedly, saying "Can you believe that, I was kissed by an elk"!

As she laughed and continued to exclaim her astonishment, repeatedly saying, "Can you believe that happened"!, I finally said, "Turn around, the other bull is still behind you!" The other bull was standing there, about 15 feet behind her, just staring at us, even though she was talking excitedly. My wife quickly got quiet, and a little pale, and turned around to see the other elk facing her and watching her. After another second or two he also departed, running off quickly after the first bull without getting closer to either of us.

We finally relaxed, and relived the moment again and again, telling each other what happened from each of our perspectives. My wife continued to exclaim about how big the bulls eye were, and how he had the most beautiful eye lashes!

I told her that will never happen to me, because I would move before I let a bull touch his nose to my chest. I was actually frightened to see his antlers just inches from her face, and she said she was afraid to move, thinking he might run me over in a panic if spooked, as I was so close behind him. All worked out well, and as so often happens in a marriage, we were both worrying about the other person throughout this encounter.

Of course the elk didn't mean us any harm, but their imposing size and formidable antlers can do plenty of damage even through incidental contact. I'm sure these 3 year old bulls had never seen a human, and certainly weren't expecting this contact as they were following the recently departed herd.

By the time we regained our composure, the large herd had moved off thanks to the panicked young bulls, and we never saw them again that day. While we didn't even shoot an arrow that day, it was the most memorable encounter I have had in a lifetime of pursuing elk.

Bill

Couple of my best days. Was 12 when dad finally let me come along on the Elk opener the first time. 1985 and the opener was still on Weds. I was excited to miss school and finally chase elk. I'd probably only seen a handful in my life to that point. I spent the night listening to them bugle all night long before the opener. The next morning we spread out and dropped off the edge into the open Aspens. By noon the group of 12 had killed 11 bulls. Nothing but yearlings and a couple of raghorns but I was hooked on those bugling bulls.


28 years latter I burned my Elk points on an archery tag on the same unit as that first Elk hunt in 85. I knew other units would probably produce a bigger bull. But my dream had always been taking a mature bull in the area I'd grown up chasing bulls. On the 16th day of hunting I found myself with in mile of that first Elk hunt. The weather had finally cooled the bulls had starting talking. As the sun set that evening with my wife watching it all unfold I was able to call a bull into range. One shot and he only made it 3 leaps before shaky legs got the best of him and we watched him topple over. I jumped around like I was 12 again.

Here's the story of last year?s Utah general season hunt.

Oct. 10th
I decided to try my go to spot again and take a 16 year first time elk hunter (Justin) and his dad (Mark) up with me. The wind was blowing from the North but not nearly as hard as the day before. While we were driving in the truck to the spot we would start hiking from, Mark commented that ?he didn't want to put any pressure on me but they really needed to get a bigger bull than their cousin?s 320? bull?. I about swerved off the road at that point and made it very clear that was a top end bull for a general season tag and although I thought we had a good chance at getting a shot at a branch antlered bull if we're patient enough, it may not be quite that big but we can only hope for the best. There?s a pretty big competition between those cousins. We had only been sitting at my glassing/shooting spot for only about 5 minutes when Mark pointed down canyon. From my angle I couldn't see anything, so I got up on my knees and then I saw a very nice bull walking in our direction. I instantly recognized the bull from one of my more recent trail camera pics. He had a very unforgettable droptine on his left G-1. I knew Justin?s 300 win. Mag. was zero?d in at 200 yards and the bull was about to hit a clearing at around 310 yards. While the bull was passing through a small group pines, I hurried and took my shooting V off my mono-pod/ walking stick and put it on my tri-pod that was used for my spotting scope. I adjusted the height so he could shoot while kneeling. He had a bi-pod but the legs were not long enough to clear the brush in front of us. Just as the bull started to come out into the open, I ranged it again and got 312 yards. I whispered to Justin that I would cow call to stop the bull and to aim right at the top of its back and he should hit it perfect. I had three calls in my pocket (two reed calls and one hochie moma). I grabbed the hochie and gave it a squeeze and it only produced a little squeak. So I squeezed it again and again a little squeak but suddenly the bull looked right up at us and I said as comely as possibly to Justin, ?take the shot, RIGHT NOW!? Right then his rifle sent a 180 gr, bullet in the bull?s direction.
As the shot echoed across the canyon, the bull lunged forward and ran into a thick clump of oak about 10 yards away. It seemed like he stood the an hour but it was only about 2 or 3 minutes. I told Justin to shoot again when the bull came out in the open again. Just as the bull was coming out of the oak, it stumbled and fell over dead. He had made a perfect double lung shot. I was able to contact someone in our group and they went to get us more help getting the bull out. It turned into a long day but I was sure happy for these new hunters.
Now that I had fulfilled my promise to help out the youth in our group first before I hunted for myself. It was time for me to try and put some meat in my freezer.

Here's Justin with his bull.





Oct. 11th
I decided to go back to my stand again and be there at first light. I hoped that someone would push a bull in my direction. I was a little worried about not seeing anything because of all the activity in the canyon the day before but I knew this canyon was used as an escape route when the elk get pressured. The first hour of daylight went by with no sighting of any elk or deer. Then I heard some shooting high up on the mountain. A short time later I saw a line of about 15 elk, including a couple mature bulls, a raghorn and a couple spikes. They were coming from the area where the shooting had been earlier. The elk dropped out of sight behind the top of the ridgeline of the canyon I was watching. A short time later, I heard a shot in the area the elk had been heading. Then I hear a member of our party say over the radio that he had a bull down. A few minutes later, I started to see some elk slowly coming over the ridgeline into my side of the canyon. They stopped near the top in a stand of pines and began to mill around. Knowing that a few others in our party would be on their way to help get the downed elk out and they would be coming up the bottom of my canyon to the head of this canyon before going over into the next canyon. I decided to stay put and watch and see which way the elk went after they got spooked from the guys going through the canyon. I continued to watch the elk with my spotting scope and some of them bedded and others just were feeding. An hour later, the rescue party arrived and headed up the canyon. At one point they passed within 150 yards of the elk but the elk held tight and didn't move at all. With the trees being so thick, neither the elk or hunters could see each other. For the next two hours, the elk stayed right in that same spot. The elk were about 600 yards from my location but I had forgotten and left my rangefinder back in the truck but without my rangefinder, I didn't know how far they were for sure and I was really nervous about taking any shot across the canyon without knowing truly how far the target would be. Finally the guys started coming back over the ridgeline bringing out the elk. Instead of sneaking away from the hunters or staying put. They had had enough and started running in my direction. I did know the distance of Justin?s gut pile from the day before and I was just hoping the elk would come close enough to that same area, so I could judge the distance correctly. The elk were angling a little further down canyon than I hoped but there was a mature bull coming straight down the hill right at me. I dialed my scope to 320 yards and got it in my crosshairs. I also cow called hoping to stop him for a minute but that didn't work. The bull did slow down a little and turned slightly, quartering towards me. Right when the bull was on the same horizontal line as the gut pile, I fired. I hit the bull high in the back, which dropped him but he tried to get back up a couple times before giving up and bedding down. I couldn't get a clear shot because a big tree limb was in the way. So I moved downhill a few yards to where I could get a clear second shot. After a second shot, he died right there in his bed. When I got to the bull, I noticed that he was exactly 20 yards from Justin?s gut pile. So it must have been a 310 yard shot that I made. It was pretty awesome to be able to kill two really nice bulls in the same spot within back to back days. I think this escape route will be producing for years to come. I also noticed my bull was the same as one I had trail camera pictures of from the summer in which I had named him ?the court jester?.

Here's my bull.

LAST EDITED ON Feb-26-18 AT 10:50PM (MST)[p]>LAST EDITED ON Feb-23-18
>AT 03:25?PM (MST)
>
>
>
>Elk Hunting Success.
>Yesterday I had my most successful
>elk hunt to date and
>I never saw an elk.
>I hunted near Soapstone Mountain
>with my good friend Scott
>Root. As the morning hunt
>came to an end and
>we started heading back to
>the truck, we came across
>a fresh set of elk
>tracks (a cow and a
>calf). "We have time, let's
>just follow them for a
>while." The tracks led us
>around the hill then turned,
>dropped in elevation and then
>a few zig zags. They
>took me to a tree
>that had the name "Lynn
>Clyde" carved on it. I
>took a picture of it
>and then one with me
>in the picture. I thought
>that was pretty cool and
>then started following the elk
>again. Once again the elk
>went around the hill, dropped
>in elevation and with a
>few zigs and zags I
>found myself standing at the
>base of another tree marked
>"Lynn Clyde". I was truly
>in awe when I saw
>the third tree with the
>same name. The first tree
>was marked 1921, the second
>1929 and the third 1928.
>The tracks then led me
>back to my truck. Lynn
>Clyde was my grandfather whom
>I never had the opportunity
>to meet. He died when
>my dad was 1 1/2
>years old. He died a
>year and half after writing
>his name on the tree
>marked 1929 which was the
>year my dad was born.
>Yesterday I walked where my
>grandfather walked, I stood where
>he stood, I leaned against
>the trees that he leaned
>against and I listen to
>the sounds of the forest
>as he heard them. It
>was a good day.... as
>I spent it with my
>grandfather.


Man that's a heck of a story. Did he run sheep?? All of these are good ones Great thread!!

Thanks to all of you who shared your hunting story. I read them all. Good stuff. I randomly drew a winner and........

[font size=+2]The Winner Is Turkinator[/font]

I'll PM you for details.

Thanks to Bad Ass Outdoor Gear for the giveaway prizes. I ask you all to give them a chance to earn your business. Next time you're looking to upgrade gear, shop badassoutdoorgear.com

Brian Latturner
MonsterMuleys.com
LIKE MonsterMuleys.com
on Facebook!

Cool!! Thanks for putting on this contest. I really enjoyed reliving some of my favorite days hunting and it was fun reading of others experiences too. I sent you a PM with my info.