R
redrabbit
Guest
Since I had not been drawn for elk since 1995, this year's rifle elk hunt in unit 9 was held with much anticipation. I had put in for archery 9 first choice, and rifle 9 second choice.This was also the first year in many that the drought had not drastically stunted antler development. After several days of scouting and not seeing a monster bull, my hands were up in the air the night before the opener as to where I would hunt.
I chose to hunt a large sage opening the first morning, figuring that I might catch a bull out in the flat at first light before someone drove through and spooked the elk. Surprise, no one drove through and I was able to get within range of a pair of "too small" 5 and 6 pointers. That evening, I went to a bench that curved along a draw with some tanks, but in over a mile of walking and glassing, I had only cut 3 sets of small tracks in the fresh mud (it had rained 2" a couple of days before the season). I wrote off this area. Some early morning watches of the sage flat, following some tracks in 1/4" of fresh snow Sunday morning, and glassing other draws and slopes showed few elk and no other bulls. Other hunters in the area reported seeing little (but would they really say if they did?).
Where to next? While scouting during the summer, I noted on the topo map, a clearing on a ridge that no roads went through. I figured this could be a good feeding area and refuge for the elk after a few days of hunters driving the roads through every draw below.
Monday, the fourth day of the hunt, dawned foggy with swirling wind. I snuck up a draw to the opening at top, noting the big tracks in the mud as I went. Once at the edge of the clearing, I noticed a lot more big tracks in the mud since yesterday's snow and drizzle. This could be the spot, as hopes of seeing a bull swelled in my mind. Sometimes having to wait for the fog to waft and clear away for a moment, I slowly made my way around the inside edge, glassing ahead and across to the openings in the scattered P-J. A fourth of the way around, a lone, tan body emerged from the foggy soup, with wide antlers attached. When his head turned sideways, the fifth point appeared short, but there was a small G-6 on one side-6x7.
In the fog, the rangefinder said 25 yards. Try again- 27 yards. Oh well, do it the old fashioned way with the naked eye-200 yards. The legs of the bipod went down, the crosshairs were surprisingly still, the bull turned sideways, a prayer for a good shot was uttered, and the 200 grain Accubond was on its way out of the 300 WSM. The bull hunched and ran. I made a quick prayer for a quick death. He ran 50 yards as the bullet went through the back of both shoulders. No tracking required. Another quick prayer of thanks.
Then the work began. I tried the no-gut method of skinning and quartering. Works great. No more bloody arms and stinky gut piles.
He'll look fine on the wall of the dining room, as backstrap and Merlot wine is served for dinner. This was a good hunt with good memories, and I met some good neighbors in the next camp. He's not the 350-plus bull that my goal was before the trigger was squeezed, but looked "just right" at the moment. No regrets on my first rifle bull. He grosses 333", nets 323".
Doug/ Red Rabbit
I chose to hunt a large sage opening the first morning, figuring that I might catch a bull out in the flat at first light before someone drove through and spooked the elk. Surprise, no one drove through and I was able to get within range of a pair of "too small" 5 and 6 pointers. That evening, I went to a bench that curved along a draw with some tanks, but in over a mile of walking and glassing, I had only cut 3 sets of small tracks in the fresh mud (it had rained 2" a couple of days before the season). I wrote off this area. Some early morning watches of the sage flat, following some tracks in 1/4" of fresh snow Sunday morning, and glassing other draws and slopes showed few elk and no other bulls. Other hunters in the area reported seeing little (but would they really say if they did?).
Where to next? While scouting during the summer, I noted on the topo map, a clearing on a ridge that no roads went through. I figured this could be a good feeding area and refuge for the elk after a few days of hunters driving the roads through every draw below.
Monday, the fourth day of the hunt, dawned foggy with swirling wind. I snuck up a draw to the opening at top, noting the big tracks in the mud as I went. Once at the edge of the clearing, I noticed a lot more big tracks in the mud since yesterday's snow and drizzle. This could be the spot, as hopes of seeing a bull swelled in my mind. Sometimes having to wait for the fog to waft and clear away for a moment, I slowly made my way around the inside edge, glassing ahead and across to the openings in the scattered P-J. A fourth of the way around, a lone, tan body emerged from the foggy soup, with wide antlers attached. When his head turned sideways, the fifth point appeared short, but there was a small G-6 on one side-6x7.
In the fog, the rangefinder said 25 yards. Try again- 27 yards. Oh well, do it the old fashioned way with the naked eye-200 yards. The legs of the bipod went down, the crosshairs were surprisingly still, the bull turned sideways, a prayer for a good shot was uttered, and the 200 grain Accubond was on its way out of the 300 WSM. The bull hunched and ran. I made a quick prayer for a quick death. He ran 50 yards as the bullet went through the back of both shoulders. No tracking required. Another quick prayer of thanks.
Then the work began. I tried the no-gut method of skinning and quartering. Works great. No more bloody arms and stinky gut piles.
He'll look fine on the wall of the dining room, as backstrap and Merlot wine is served for dinner. This was a good hunt with good memories, and I met some good neighbors in the next camp. He's not the 350-plus bull that my goal was before the trigger was squeezed, but looked "just right" at the moment. No regrets on my first rifle bull. He grosses 333", nets 323".
Doug/ Red Rabbit