Well, first of all I would like to thank ShelbyS for posting the pictures of my bull, as well as his help tracking the bull and packing him out. A good hunting buddy is worth his weight in gold!
Anyway, I have wanted to shoot a bull elk with a bow since I was just a kid; and this year I finally got my chance. This hunt basically started earlier this spring when I found out I had drawn a bear tag. As we scouted the area for bear sign and a place to hang a stand we noticed that there was an awful lot of elk sign in the area. This got the wheels in my head rolling and I decided that I would have to give it a try come September.
The first Saturday of August was my Dad's birthday and he wanted to go do a little hiking in the hills for the day. So, I persuaded him to make it an early morning and drive the three hours down to the area that has become my "honey hole". We hiked up into several different canyons and in one of them found a nice seep that reeked of elk. I got so excited when we found this water I could hardly contain myself. I told my Dad that we had to come back the next week and bring my stand down and dig out this seep. He agreed and the next Thursday we headed down to set up my stand.
When we got into the canyon again we found fresh rubs running along side of the ravine and blood all over a couple of the deadfall that were next to the seep. I was so confused as to what could have possibly bled all over everything. My Dad and I kept wondering if a lion could have attacked a deer or if maybe an elk tore up their hide running through the thick dead fall. Later that night I called ShelbyS to tell him about the rubs and the blood and he mentioned that the big bulls will bleed excess blood when they begin to rub their antlers. As soon as I heard this I began to have visions of 300 class bulls using my new hole. In fact I couldn't sleep for a couple of night after that trip.
Finally opening day came and I was so excited to get down there and find my bull. Unfortunately, as luck would have it I had a bunch of unexpected meetings at work come up and wasn't able to leave until noon on opening day. And to make matters worse, ShelbyS was in the same boat and couldn't make the trip with me either; and my wife has a strict policy that I am in no way shape or form suppose to go hunting by myself. Well, I threw caution to the wind and headed down by myself.
I got to my spot around 3:30pm that afternoon and hurried as fast as I could to get my camo gear on and ready to go. I wanted to get up to my stand by 4:30. I had not gone 250 yards when I heard the sound of antlers clashing. It sort of took me by surprise but I slowly crept closer to the sound. As I came over a little rise I could see the tops of the two bulls. One of which was much larger than the other. At this point my heart began to race so hard I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Nevertheless, I proceeded to close the gap to bulls to what I thought was about 40-45 yards. Turns out it was more like 30-35 yards as I watched my arrow fly mere inches over a big 7x7 back. At the shot the two bulls stopped their sparring match for moment to try and figure what that noise was. I tried to get another arrow knocked for a follow up shot but just as I was getting ready to draw my bow the wind swirled behind me and blew right to the bulls. They quickly without hesitation spun and ran past me at fifteen yards. Unfortunately, it was too thick to get a passing shot.
I was so sick that I had missed that I literally wanted to start crying. I had that nasty nauseating feeling in my gut that I have only had when blowing a perfect opportunity. Anyway, the rest of opening day was pretty much uneventful. I heard some cows from my stand but it was really windy and they wouldn't come in.
I had to work that Friday and my little brother had a high school football game that night. We left early the next morning (Saturday) to head back down and try to make up for my shortcomings the day before. We got to the spot where I like to park the truck and camo up and had not gone 150 yards when we spotted the big 7x7 500 yards out in front of us. I quickly took my boots off and instructed my two brothers (who love to go out but have no clue when it comes to hunting) to hold still. I had closed the distance to about 70 yards when I noticed a 15-20 foot lodge pole swaying like it was in the middle of a monsoon. I took a couple of steps to my right to look down into this steep drainage and there was a nice 5x5 working that tree over. Once again, my heart was so loud that I thought it was going to jump out of me chest. I quietly moved towards some brush to conceal myself and nock an arrow when the bull turned and began to come back up to the trail. As he passed a large dead fall I began to draw my bow and as luck would have it he paused in the one spot where he could see me draw. He spun and went back down into the steep canyon. I got him to stop with a couple of cow calls but didn't feel comfortable with the shot.
I was really surprised when I looked back up and saw that the big 7x7 was still standing there watching his little buddy trotting down into the canyon. He didn't seem to care too much but must have thought that it was in his best interest to take refuge higher up on the mountain. He and another 6x6 that came out of nowhere moved several hundreds into the thick timber. We never did see them again that day but heard them fight for about an hour. It was amazing.
Almost two full weeks passed before I was able to make it back down there. I had a lot of things going on at work and with my family so it was hard to find time to break away. Not to mention that I was having a hard time finding someone who could make the trip with me. As you will recall my wife has a policy. However, she took me by surprise last Sunday when we were leaving church she said to me, "You know if you promise you will be safe I will let you go by yourself." I of course promised her that I would and made arrangements to head down Tuesday (14th) morning to hunt for the day.
I made it to my spot about half hour early and just sat in the truck listening to the sounds of the forest. I decided that I would get out and start hunting as soon as the first inklings of dawn came. It was a little windy when I began walking down the trail and I thought I had heard some bugles but wasn't 100% positive. I decided that I would move back into the drainage where I thought the bugles were coming from; and as I got around the point and dropped off the ridge out of the wind I instantly heard the familiar sounds of cows mewing. I made a couple of calls with my Primos Hoochie Mama and waited to see or hear if anything was coming. Nothing. I moved up 50 yards and did it again. Nothing. Moved up another 50 yards and did it again. This time I heard the distinctive sound of elk moving down the mountain in my direction. From this point everything became so surreal.
The bull somewhere still in the quakies lets out a nasty old bugle and in seconds appears out of nowhere. The bull was about 80 yards in front of me moving towards me. I was pinned in the middle of an old logging road with no cover. Luckily the road had a bend in it about 30-35 yards in front of me and there was a big slash pile where they had piled all the dead fall. The bull took a couple steps forward and stopped looking down into the draw that ran down to my left. He then put his head down and let out another bugle. As he did this I took this opportunity to get off the road and pull my mask over my face. The whole time this was happening I could hear his cows up at the head of this draw chirping and mewing away.
I was waiting and waiting for him to come around the slash pile for what seemed like an eternity. I was beginning to fear that he was going to change his mind and head back to his cows. So I let out one more soft mew on the Hoochie Mama and that was all it took. I saw his antlers begin to move forward and drew my bow. Next thing I know I am looking through my peep whole and finding my mark. Unfortunately, upon release of my arrow the bow string hit my left arm and I watched as the arrow curve balled away from where my pin was aimed. The arrow hit him a little ways back and high. He spun and took off down the draw. I called a few times and heard him stop. Hoping he would lie down and expire.
I decided that I better give him plenty of time and went back to town to grab ShelbyS to help me track him and pack him out. We got back down there around 4:00pm and it took us 2.5 hours to find him. The blood trail was pretty faint until we found the spot where he had pulled the arrow out, and then the trail led us to my first archery bull elk.
This has been an incredible year. Like I said at the beginning of the story I have wanted to archery hunt since I was a kid and I finally was able to make a dream come true. I have been blessed to take a nice blonde colored bear in the same area in May and now a nice mature bull elk. What a year!!!
I would like to say thanks to everyone who has made this hunt possible, especially my wife!
(Bull gross scores 311 P&Y)
