HuntnIdaho
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Went out last Friday/Saturday with my Dad and had a very busy couple of days. Best opening weekend for our family maybe ever.
Friday 6:45 am - While hiking in to where I wanted to look for an elk, I spooked a nice whitetail buck in a clear cut. He was picking his way out when he stopped for a brief second, quartering away at 100-110 yards. I let one fly and he disappeared into a clump of trees, I heard a couple sticks crack and then silence. I followed up after 20 minutes and found him piled up 35 yards away from where he stopped. Deer tag filled.
After a brutal pack out, my Dad and I hunted together and had a very nice evening hunt watching a different clear cut as the sun went down. I almost fell asleep in the warm sun. I've never been so beat from getting a deer out of the woods. Totally worth it though.
Saturday 6:45am - I was hiking into the area I meant to get to on Friday morning and was within a couple hundred yards of the spot I wanted to watch for the morning when I hear a shot ring out from the direction of the area my Dad was in. I stopped and waited. A couple minutes go by and my Dad radios me and says he just dropped a really nice whitetail buck in the clear cut we hunted the previous evening which is about 1/3rd of a mile from where I am. I get excited for him - he's never shot a big whitetail buck and he's 57 years old. I then proceed to sneak toward my spot, thinking how awesome this trip has been already.
Saturday 7:26am - I am within 100 yards or so of where I intend to sit for a bit when I look across the clear cut and spot an elk standing on the upper road. I put my scope on it and see it's a bull. He's looking right at me it seems. It's about 350 yards between us and I can't take that shot without a good rest so I just freeze. Eventually, he starts walking down the road and disappears behind some trees. I move a swift and quietly as I can up the road and down a skid trail, trying to cut the distance down. I get halfway down the skid trail when I see the bull emerge back into the clear cut below the road, he's moving pretty good and has no idea I'm there. I throw my bag down to use as a rest and the bull comes down to a lower road in the clear cut at around 250 yards. But he won't stop! He walks to the end of the road and off into the cut heading towards the tree line nearest me and goes out of sight. I figure he will either disappear into the trees, feed out of sight of my location or come up the tree line and potentially offer me a shot. I gambled that he would continue up the tree line so I grab my shooting sticks and setup watching the tree line 170 yards away and wait. A few minutes later I hear some sticks snap. He was coming! I see him coming up the tree line out of my periphery, I back my scope down to 6x and steady myself. I've only got a couple small openings to shoot through. He stops broadside in the last opening and I squeeze the trigger. The bull flinches and runs down and out of sight. My Dad radios and asks if that was me. I say, "yeah man! Just got a shot at a Bull Elk!" He says he's still boning out his buck so it will be awhile before he can come and help. I wait a half hour and brew some coffee before walking to where the bull was standing. 40 yards later..
Not a very big-antlered bull- a "raghorn" 5x5, but man, what a rush! And only the 3rd elk tag I've notched ever.
Eventually, my Dad makes it over to help me finish the quartering and packing. Thank god for some rain that helped keep the flies away! We get everything back to camp, change some game bags and admire our crazy luck.
I don't know if I'll have another weekend like this for the rest of my life. If not, that's OK. Out of my 21 seasons, this one has provided some epic memories. I do hope when my boys reach hunting age, they can experience something like this one year with their Dad
Friday 6:45 am - While hiking in to where I wanted to look for an elk, I spooked a nice whitetail buck in a clear cut. He was picking his way out when he stopped for a brief second, quartering away at 100-110 yards. I let one fly and he disappeared into a clump of trees, I heard a couple sticks crack and then silence. I followed up after 20 minutes and found him piled up 35 yards away from where he stopped. Deer tag filled.
After a brutal pack out, my Dad and I hunted together and had a very nice evening hunt watching a different clear cut as the sun went down. I almost fell asleep in the warm sun. I've never been so beat from getting a deer out of the woods. Totally worth it though.
Saturday 6:45am - I was hiking into the area I meant to get to on Friday morning and was within a couple hundred yards of the spot I wanted to watch for the morning when I hear a shot ring out from the direction of the area my Dad was in. I stopped and waited. A couple minutes go by and my Dad radios me and says he just dropped a really nice whitetail buck in the clear cut we hunted the previous evening which is about 1/3rd of a mile from where I am. I get excited for him - he's never shot a big whitetail buck and he's 57 years old. I then proceed to sneak toward my spot, thinking how awesome this trip has been already.
Saturday 7:26am - I am within 100 yards or so of where I intend to sit for a bit when I look across the clear cut and spot an elk standing on the upper road. I put my scope on it and see it's a bull. He's looking right at me it seems. It's about 350 yards between us and I can't take that shot without a good rest so I just freeze. Eventually, he starts walking down the road and disappears behind some trees. I move a swift and quietly as I can up the road and down a skid trail, trying to cut the distance down. I get halfway down the skid trail when I see the bull emerge back into the clear cut below the road, he's moving pretty good and has no idea I'm there. I throw my bag down to use as a rest and the bull comes down to a lower road in the clear cut at around 250 yards. But he won't stop! He walks to the end of the road and off into the cut heading towards the tree line nearest me and goes out of sight. I figure he will either disappear into the trees, feed out of sight of my location or come up the tree line and potentially offer me a shot. I gambled that he would continue up the tree line so I grab my shooting sticks and setup watching the tree line 170 yards away and wait. A few minutes later I hear some sticks snap. He was coming! I see him coming up the tree line out of my periphery, I back my scope down to 6x and steady myself. I've only got a couple small openings to shoot through. He stops broadside in the last opening and I squeeze the trigger. The bull flinches and runs down and out of sight. My Dad radios and asks if that was me. I say, "yeah man! Just got a shot at a Bull Elk!" He says he's still boning out his buck so it will be awhile before he can come and help. I wait a half hour and brew some coffee before walking to where the bull was standing. 40 yards later..
Not a very big-antlered bull- a "raghorn" 5x5, but man, what a rush! And only the 3rd elk tag I've notched ever.
Eventually, my Dad makes it over to help me finish the quartering and packing. Thank god for some rain that helped keep the flies away! We get everything back to camp, change some game bags and admire our crazy luck.
I don't know if I'll have another weekend like this for the rest of my life. If not, that's OK. Out of my 21 seasons, this one has provided some epic memories. I do hope when my boys reach hunting age, they can experience something like this one year with their Dad