mta5672
Active Member
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A bitter sweet end to our elk hunt. My dad drew a great archery only tag here in Wyoming and after being very picky and many blown chances he went went home with the tag in his pocket. My son and I didnt draw so we went out with general tags in our pockets hoping for the best. We had a good idea where to find some elk, and generally there are a few decent bulls running around(public ground). The first morning we left the truck well before daylight and headed to a good glassing spot. Waiting for the sun to come up took forever. As we started picking apart the various sidehills and seeing nothing but a coyote and two small bucks we decided to make the hike to the other side of the mountain. About an hour and a half later we were back behind the spotting scopes and found a huge herd of elk about two or three miles away on top of a huge bald ridge. We could make out on bigger bull and atleast two other branch antlered bulls. We watched them for about an hour as they fed over the top and into a very nasty cliffed out canyon. We figured they would spend the day there and feed back out in the same spot in the afternoon, if left alone. As we were packing our things up and making a game plan to hike over closer one last look through the bino's showed a group of five other hunters walking right down the top of the ridge skylined just above the elk. We kept a close eye on the hunters and the elk infested canyon, the hunters passed right on by without stopping and the elk did not leave. We could see all the way around the canyon and they could not have gotten out without us seeing them. We made the decision to leave dad where we were until my son and I made it to our spot. We ended up making it to the rock outcropping just fine and the wait was on. We waited and waited and waited, we were just about to pick up and make the long trek back to the truck when i heard my son say "elk", sure enough here they came onr right after the other. About 18 cows and calves fed out and then a very respectable 6 point followed them. We couldnt tell if it was what we thought was the bigger one from the morning so we just sat tight. 10 minutes later and no other bulls appeared. We ranged the bull and he was broadside at 330 yards. I told my son to get comfortable and shoothim whenever he was ready. He told me he didnt want that bull because he didnt think it was the big one. I about slapped him! I said a nice 6 point with a general tag isnt easy to come by, he didnt care. "You shoot him dad, you havent killed a bull in a while" i felt kind of bad but i wasnt going to argue anymore. I layed down settled the crosshairs on his shoulder and let the 7STW rip. The 168dr berger found home and the bull never knew what him. The other elk went right back in the canyon and up the other side they came. My son was on the spotting scope and said there is a lot more elk coming out over there, sure enough the bigger bull was right behind all the cows and calves(we counted 34 elk total). A few pictures and a quick gut job and it was pitch black. The rest of the elk were still in sight when the light faded. We decided we would leave my bull and come back in the morning to see if we could find them and pack mine out after the morning hunt. We woke the next morning to a light dusting of snow at the camper, this was encouraging. We decided we could shorten our hike by using a different road and come in from the back side. The snow was a little deeper the further up the mountain we got and it slowed us down a little bit. We got to the top of the canyon the elk were in the night before and discovered why we hadnt found the rest of the elk the night before. There was a bench with a nice meadow about 500 yards from the top of the canyon and all of the elk were right in the middle of it feeding. The closest we could get was 450 yards with out heading down in the timber. My son had gotten a new 6.5-284 and had been shooting a lot out to 500 yards. He said he could make the shot, he also threw in the "I told you there was a bigger on dad". We made a nice rest from coats and packs and ranged the bull at 465 yards. He dialed the scope to the yardage took a deep breath and squeezed. I dont know who was more nervous me or grandpa, the boy was stone cold just like he does this everyday. At the shot the just crumbled to the ground. All i heard was yelling and screaming from my dad and son. I looked back at the bull and he was trying to get back to his feet, i got the two kids back to earth and told him to put one more in the bull before he got back up. As he was getting ready for another shot i could tell the bull had expired. He shot once more just for good measure. We made our way to the bull and discovered the first shot was high in the shoulder and spined the bull. I was a very proud dad, my sons first bull and a very respectable 6 point. Lots of hugs, high fives and smiles until we thought about packing two bulls 3 miles back to the truck. Thank god it was mostly downhill. After the first load we decided we would call back to town for some help. My uncle arrived around 4 oclock with the horses and we made one more trip back to the truck, exhausted and happy. What a special couple of days 3 generations doing what we all love to do and filling the freezer at the same time. Ive had many hunts with these two but this one will be forever etched in my mind as the greatest hunt ever.
