S
STXBUX
Guest
I guess that my story doesn't differ much from any other, except in detail. My trip was full of challenges, disappointment, adrenaline, and success. After a nightmare of cancelled flights, rerouted airports, standby passengers, and bad airport courtesy, I arrived to meet my buddy to begin my first elk hunt ever. I was supposed to go 6 years ago with my best hunting partner, my dad, but cancer took his life and any dreams and desire that I ever had to shoot an elk with him.
I was very fortunate to meet a great friend in a fellow fly fishing guide this last summer in Colorado. Geoff and I planned for me to come up for first season rifle in Co. this past summer. He bow hunted for a few weeks, scouted for me for over a month and found some elk that were still undisturbed a few days before the trip. We went up to look at them from about 2 miles away on Thursday before the season, and they were still there. (About 50 animals). We then decided to hike in Friday and get a closer look to see if there was a nice bull in the heard. After a7 ? hour trip hiking in on Friday, at 13,200 ft we found our elk feeding in a semi snow covered bowl. There were 9 bulls and two were shooters. We got out of there, as not to give up our scent in the wind or thermals, and decided to start at 3:00 am on opening morning to get to my elk.
As luck would have it, we never dreamed that anyone would want to hike 7 ? hours from 8,000 ft to 13,000 feet, and we never saw anyone even close to the area of these elk. WE WERE WRONG. There were two guys packed and ready to start up the trail, and they had sent someone in during the night to set up camp. What I didn't understand was how they were not going to spook these elk out of the country. There was no way to get near them with a camp, so they probably blew them out of the country. We decide to not waste the most important morning, so we moved to another location that was holding elk. We got there before daylight and just in time to see two orange vests and hats. I now am realizing that bow hunting for elk is probably a better way to avoid the other hunters. After scrapping the morning hunt we drove to another part of the unit to look for elk, in hopes that they were being pushed to us. We had no problem walking, which we thought would benefit us over the drivers and road warriors. We hunted a good area where Geoff had seen a nice 6x6, and we had seen 2 cows and 2 calves feeding the day before the season, but despite the torn up trees and a beaten down trail, no bull. We did see a 30-32 inch 4x4, which was really cool. Too bad I didn't have a camera or a deer tag ready.
The next morning found us walking straight up a switchback trail up to some more high country in complete darkness. After 4 hours of hiking, we jumped a cow and a calf in a sage meadow. Not 2 minutes after this, I looked up to see an orange hat and vest carrying a sled up the mountain. My heart sunk again. Now that cow that we jumped was looking good for my either sex tag. I made up my mind right there that I was going to hunt hard until the last day if that is what it took, and I was prepared to go home with a great experience if nothing else. We reached the area that we wanted to hunt, and I glassed across to find a gigantic ???.. Orange hat and vest. Across the ridge from that guy was another. I was pissed. I had managed to glass more hunters than elk in the 1 ? days of hunting. I hung my head and asked myself if it could get any worse? I guess that my dad had some pull upstairs, because my luck would change that evening.
We had seen some elk down lower on opening day while we were changing locations, but surprise surprise there was a hunter above them, so we dismissed that idea. We decide to try there again. After passing two trucks on the highway hauling elk with ?bone in the back?, I was even more anxious to get back on the mountain. We spotted some cows feeding in mixed trees and meadow, so we decided to see if there was a bull in the group. It was kind of warm, so we decided to wait until the thermals started to drop. After the clouds rolled in and the temps dropped, we started up the mountain. We stopped often to let this ?flatlander? catch his breath. I noticed that it had just started to snow and sleet, as I sat on my butt sucking air and water for what seemed like the millionth time. It was getting cooler, and I was enjoying being in God?s creation, when Geoff told me to get up and move. I rustled up and started upward. After ten minutes or so, I had to stop again. We were hunting up and to the north, but for some reason,as I was resting, I decided to turn and look across the mountain to the south. It was almost as if he had been placed there for me. I could see with a naked eye that this bull was a shooter. I did not have the time to range him, as I had only about 5 seconds and he would be gone into the timber. I tried to pull my bipod legs down, but after I got one down, I realized that I was wasting time. I rested on my knee and took the shot. I could see the hide ripple just behind the shoulder. I knew that I had hit him hard. I knew that the 300 ultra mag would do the job. He tried to buck and ran off out of sight. The cows that he was pushing ran back into the shale opening and I thought that he would follow. He did, and as he came back out, his back legs buckled and he fell. It happened all so fast. I thought that he was about 200-220 yards, but we ranged where he was at 380. A far bit bigger animal than the whitetails that I am used to hunting. It was a great trip. I got my trophy, even though he is not huge.I got to share it with a great friend, and somehow I know inside that my best hunting buddy, my dad was right there with me on that mountain.
Thanks for taking the time to read my story,
If the pics do not show up, can I email them to someone to post?
STXBUX
I was very fortunate to meet a great friend in a fellow fly fishing guide this last summer in Colorado. Geoff and I planned for me to come up for first season rifle in Co. this past summer. He bow hunted for a few weeks, scouted for me for over a month and found some elk that were still undisturbed a few days before the trip. We went up to look at them from about 2 miles away on Thursday before the season, and they were still there. (About 50 animals). We then decided to hike in Friday and get a closer look to see if there was a nice bull in the heard. After a7 ? hour trip hiking in on Friday, at 13,200 ft we found our elk feeding in a semi snow covered bowl. There were 9 bulls and two were shooters. We got out of there, as not to give up our scent in the wind or thermals, and decided to start at 3:00 am on opening morning to get to my elk.
As luck would have it, we never dreamed that anyone would want to hike 7 ? hours from 8,000 ft to 13,000 feet, and we never saw anyone even close to the area of these elk. WE WERE WRONG. There were two guys packed and ready to start up the trail, and they had sent someone in during the night to set up camp. What I didn't understand was how they were not going to spook these elk out of the country. There was no way to get near them with a camp, so they probably blew them out of the country. We decide to not waste the most important morning, so we moved to another location that was holding elk. We got there before daylight and just in time to see two orange vests and hats. I now am realizing that bow hunting for elk is probably a better way to avoid the other hunters. After scrapping the morning hunt we drove to another part of the unit to look for elk, in hopes that they were being pushed to us. We had no problem walking, which we thought would benefit us over the drivers and road warriors. We hunted a good area where Geoff had seen a nice 6x6, and we had seen 2 cows and 2 calves feeding the day before the season, but despite the torn up trees and a beaten down trail, no bull. We did see a 30-32 inch 4x4, which was really cool. Too bad I didn't have a camera or a deer tag ready.
The next morning found us walking straight up a switchback trail up to some more high country in complete darkness. After 4 hours of hiking, we jumped a cow and a calf in a sage meadow. Not 2 minutes after this, I looked up to see an orange hat and vest carrying a sled up the mountain. My heart sunk again. Now that cow that we jumped was looking good for my either sex tag. I made up my mind right there that I was going to hunt hard until the last day if that is what it took, and I was prepared to go home with a great experience if nothing else. We reached the area that we wanted to hunt, and I glassed across to find a gigantic ???.. Orange hat and vest. Across the ridge from that guy was another. I was pissed. I had managed to glass more hunters than elk in the 1 ? days of hunting. I hung my head and asked myself if it could get any worse? I guess that my dad had some pull upstairs, because my luck would change that evening.
We had seen some elk down lower on opening day while we were changing locations, but surprise surprise there was a hunter above them, so we dismissed that idea. We decide to try there again. After passing two trucks on the highway hauling elk with ?bone in the back?, I was even more anxious to get back on the mountain. We spotted some cows feeding in mixed trees and meadow, so we decided to see if there was a bull in the group. It was kind of warm, so we decided to wait until the thermals started to drop. After the clouds rolled in and the temps dropped, we started up the mountain. We stopped often to let this ?flatlander? catch his breath. I noticed that it had just started to snow and sleet, as I sat on my butt sucking air and water for what seemed like the millionth time. It was getting cooler, and I was enjoying being in God?s creation, when Geoff told me to get up and move. I rustled up and started upward. After ten minutes or so, I had to stop again. We were hunting up and to the north, but for some reason,as I was resting, I decided to turn and look across the mountain to the south. It was almost as if he had been placed there for me. I could see with a naked eye that this bull was a shooter. I did not have the time to range him, as I had only about 5 seconds and he would be gone into the timber. I tried to pull my bipod legs down, but after I got one down, I realized that I was wasting time. I rested on my knee and took the shot. I could see the hide ripple just behind the shoulder. I knew that I had hit him hard. I knew that the 300 ultra mag would do the job. He tried to buck and ran off out of sight. The cows that he was pushing ran back into the shale opening and I thought that he would follow. He did, and as he came back out, his back legs buckled and he fell. It happened all so fast. I thought that he was about 200-220 yards, but we ranged where he was at 380. A far bit bigger animal than the whitetails that I am used to hunting. It was a great trip. I got my trophy, even though he is not huge.I got to share it with a great friend, and somehow I know inside that my best hunting buddy, my dad was right there with me on that mountain.
Thanks for taking the time to read my story,
If the pics do not show up, can I email them to someone to post?
STXBUX
