It is getting closerfor '07 -This occurred in 2005

338magblaster · Jul 19, 2007

?Oh, I can see a bull,? my father whispered. On that frosty September morning a lifelong dream played out as if it were a Hollywood melodrama. Sun, stars and moon aligned, fate intervened, karma, fortune, or whatever you want to call it, luck shined on me that morning among the aspens of southern Utah.

The first of my serendipitous encounters with fortune began the previous off season when the Utah Division of Wildlife Resources offered new opportunities for Elk. The Utah limited-entry premium elk tag and a late any-weapon elk season were new for 2005. I had been applying for a Utah limited-entry elk permit for many years and wondered if these new opportunities would divert interest away from the traditional limited entry-Any Weapon-tag, which euphemistically meant rifle-tag and increase the chance for a successful draw, or would it condense the applications to the coveted September magic.

Certainly with the introduction of the late-rifle elk season, hunters would have to weigh where the best chance for drawing a tag would be and then which season would get them the best chance at the animal they were looking for. With this in mind, I completed the application for the ?Premium? tag which allowed those who drew the opportunity to hunt all of the limited-entry seasons--Archery, Rifle, Black Powder and Late Rifle. Meaning if you obtained the permit and were in the field until the last possible opportunity, you could hunt for most of the time between mid-August and mid-November.

I anticipated the results of the draw like everyone who knows the haunting addiction of the elk-woods in the fall. When the rumors started to circulated that the credit cards were starting to show charges from Bucks and Bulls, I decided to check. When I saw my account being hit, I was puzzled. I put in for other hunts and didn't immediately recognize what the amount meant. I called my hunting partner and my brother to try to figure out what had happened. It took only a few minutes and a visit to the proclamation, to realize that I had hit the elk jackpot. I had drawn the Premium Limited Entry tag for a unit in southern Utah. My plans for summer vacations and extended weekend excursions were tossed out the window.

As I contemplated how to best approach the hunt, I realized that my archery skills, if I had any, were in serious need of improvement. It didn't take long for me to be practicing daily. I lacked proficiency gained over many years but 4 months of dedicated practice had me shooting four-inch groups at 35 yards. Good enough? It would need to be. I told myself that if I didn't get an absolute stud bull within 30 yards, I would pass. Turns out, I did get one close enough, but never got a shot with the bow.

In addition to the archery practice, I began scouting in May. Early morning adventures to the unit turned into struggles to overcome washed-out roads and lingering snow drifts. My summer scouting yielded fat results. I located elk in their summer herds and learned the layout of the unit that only time on the ground can teach. Aside from my scouting, I had the great benefit of having participated two hunts in the same unit in the previous three years. My hunting partner had drawn the rifle tag in 2002 and my brother had the same tag in 2003. The experience of helping both of them take magnificent trophies gave me the confidence and the experience to do my hunt myself.

More to come...

338magblaster · Jul 19, 2007

2nd installment

Summer passed slowly. As August began, plans were laid and when the time came to get the camp put together, we were off. The amount of equipment and gear for the planned hunt was daunting. Imagine trying to plan a base camp for a hunt that could conceivably last two and a half months. No easy task.

Finally the opening of the archery season was upon me. The plan was to use the first couple of extended weekends to scout and then the last week of the archery season to get real serious. The weather for the first couple of weeks was spectacular unless you are hunting elk. Blue skies and warm temperatures lasted for nearly the entire archery season. Bulls were not active, cows were nervous and the rut seemed far away. The archery hunt turned into more scouting. ?Scouting with a bow,? my buddy said. Aside from being a good friend, Craig is a serious archer. He also took the opportunity to tell me that I hunt with a bow as if it were a rifle. Four or Five days of hiking around the area, looking for signs of elk will do that.

As the sun began to set on the last night of the archery season, Craig and I were coming down an old two-track toward a tank that we had sat near the previous night. As we came around the corner headed back to camp, coming from the aspen grove above the tank was a single-file line of cows. Pushing them was a magnificent herd bull, adorned with long, black and ivory headgear. Piercing the calm was the bull?s bugles. The cows? mews were the only challenge. We were paying attention.

We were still a long half-mile from the tank, we soon realized that the elk would see us if we tried to put a move on them. There was next to no cover, small patches of sage and mountain grass were the only things between us and the harem. The video camera would be the weapon of choice. With that settled, we watched the bull water, role and cover himself with ?mud and such? as we watched from across the meadow, Craig decided to test the bulls will. Craig bugled so convincingly, the bull bugled his challenge, stirred the mud with heavy antlers and pushed the cows back into the aspens.

The blurred and shaky video turned out to be very enticing. Back at camp, we watched it over and over again trying to decide if that was the bull we wanted to go after the next morning -- on the first day of the rifle season. Craig?s hall pass from the wife expired that night and he had to return home. His procession out of camp was followed by the arrival at camp of several family and friends. As we all settled in, the video was played and replayed.

The decision was made. We would go after the brute in the morning and see what would happen. As the darkness enclosed camp, the music began. First a distant bugle. Another faint but, yep that was a bugle. Soon the evening was filled with symphony that has to be experienced. One youngster in camp was so taken with the bugles, he could not sleep.

More on the way

338magblaster · Jul 19, 2007

RE: last installment

The alarm clock sounded at there was a hint of pink in the eastern sky. A breakfast of oatmeal and toast and we were ready to leave. The bugles of the night before lingered in the morning air. The small band of hunters--with only one gun-- were soon headed down the two-track from the night before. We had approached the tank from the east in the evening, so the morning found us approaching from the west. We were looking into the rising sun, My father, 75 years old, would accompany us part of the way. My brother, a couple of nephews and friend Brad joined me. My son, Tyler, would handle the cow calls and video camera.

As we came within sight of the tank, I thought I could see something in the water. I raised my binoculars? the same herd was in the tank. We immediately formulated a plan. My father, my son and I would set up several hundred yards to the south and the rest would hold tight. We were going to try to call the herd closer.

We quietly made our way to the base of an aspen grove where we could hear bulges and mews of cow calls. After thirty minutes of calling and getting responses, but no closer to the herd, my son suggested that we get closer, get into their ?zone.? The three of us carefully made our way up through the sun lit aspens, to where I finally caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. There in the trees, across a clearing to the east was a cow, then another, and another. Soon we were in the thick of it. Cows were calling from the front, sides and back. Bulls bugling their challenges from near and far. My son would cow-call, several of the cows would look. Soon the big boy decided he wanted to see what was going on. With the early morning sun shining brightly on the stark white aspen trunks in front of us, we were invisible.

My father, who was experiencing an elk-frenzy for the first time whispers, ?Oh, I can see a bull!? When he emerged from the trees, steam blowing from each bugle, I had my Browning 270 on the sticks and looked him over pretty closely. I commented to my son, trying to control my quivering voice? ?I could shoot him.? The immediate response was a whispered shout ?Do it!? I again asked, ?Do you think I should shoot him?? ?Yes!? followed by, ?He?s huge!?

It didn't take long for me to settle the crosshairs on the heavy 6x6?s front shoulder and squeeze the trigger. The 270 was true. I later ranged the distance at 226 yards. The bull went about 30 yards and stopped. All I could remember was the advice of another experience elk hunter who said, ?If he's still standing, keep shooting!? Another round from the 270 and the elk staggered and went down.

As my father, my son and I approached the magnificent animal, a flood of emotions swept over me. It was Saturday, the first day of a planned ten day rifle hunt. My trophy was on the ground before 9 AM. I was overcome to the point that my son thought I was having a heart attack. Tears of joy flowed. After calling the whole gang together, I sent my son back to camp to get my wife and other son, who thought it was safe to sleep in, ?because Dad wouldn't shoot one on opening day.? We stayed in the grove for an hour, taking pictures and making memories.

Did I have regrets? Not one. My son called in a 360 plus bull on my father?s first encounter with elk. To add to the serendipity, it turned out there was an old road that ran next to the patch of aspens where the elk lay in the shadows. We were able to load the animal whole onto a trailer and haul it back to camp. We were checked by a division officer while skinning it. The only question I could not answer was, ?How did you get that lucky??

Packout · Jul 19, 2007

RE: last installment

What a great post. Not only does it sound like you shot a great bull, but you were able to do it with your father and your son. That is when size doesn't matter, the experience does. Congratulations. Post a picture of the 3 of you and the bull if you have one.

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pushin_30 · Jul 19, 2007

RE: last installment

WOW! Awesome story. If that doesn't get one excited to hit the hills this fall I doen't know what would. Congrats to a great hunt and ALL the memories to go with it.

junior · Jul 20, 2007

RE: last installment

Man,,,Great story! and well told!....all you need is a few pictures and this one is ready for field and stream or some magazine.....

No kidding, you should share it with an editer...