Had a great youth hunt with my daughter Mindy. I am very proud of her and cherish these times spent in the outdoors with her greatly. See her description below of the hunt.
Dad and I drove from Santa Fe. We met our cousin, Toby, who is from Las Cruces, and came to help us on the hunt. (I don't know how we'd have done this without his help.) We stayed in our camper during the hunt and used Toby?s truck to drive around.
At 8:20 a.m. on the second day, Toby stopped the truck and turned it off. He swore that he had heard an elk. A moment later, an unmistakable bugle echoed through the forest. We all hurried out of the truck and grabbed our backpacks. Dad took the tripod and I grabbed my rifle. Then we set off through the valley where the bugle came from.
?Stay in the shadows, keep quiet,? Toby whispered as we hid under the trees? shadows.
We walked up the valley quickly, and every few seconds an elk bugled. We could hear multiple elk, one on our right and one on our left, though the one on our left sounded closer. We continued along the side of the hill. I took the lead as we got closer to the noise. Another bugle sounded, this time even louder and ending in a loud grunt, and we could tell that the bull wasn?t too far from us.
?There they are! They?re right there!? Dad said behind me.
We all crouched down and moved forward. Then, when we passed a log that was blocking my view, I saw them. There was one big bull, one spike, and about ten cows. Toby ranged the big bull at 240 yards. We set up the tripod and I set my gun on it. Looking through the scope, I picked out the biggest bull. He was walking toward some oak brush on the right. I picked a spot on its shoulder and pulled the trigger. The first shot missed him. I jacked the bolt, aimed again and pulled the trigger. This time, the bullet hit him, and he slowed down, obviously hurting, but then he disappeared into the brush. The cows and the spike followed him, but weren't moving very fast. We decided to stay where we were and wait to see if anything came out of the brush. After about ten minutes, we moved forward to where the bull was when I shot him and looked for blood. Over the time that we stood in this spot, three different cows crossed the valley about 150 yards in front of us.
I put my gun up on the tripod, ready to shoot just in case the bull crossed the valley too. After the third cow crossed the valley, and we waited for a while without seeing anything else, Dad decided to search in the oak brush for blood. Toby and I stayed in the same place, still waiting to see if the bull would come out. While Dad was in the brush, another cow went across the valley. Not much later after the cow walked away, the bull came out into the valley. It wasn?t walking very quickly and I could tell it was the one that I hit. I shot at him three more times, missing the first two, but dropping him on the third. However, he was still kicking on the ground.
Dad came running out of the brush. ?Did you hit him? Is he down??
?Yes! He?s down,? I said.
As we were walking up to it, it jumped up and ran straight away from me. Without thinking, I lifted my gun up to my shoulder, aimed at the back of his head, and pulled the trigger. The bull dropped immediately.
When we get to him, we see he's a six by six with great mass in his antlers and a very big body. I am very happy and proud of him. We are very lucky, very blessed, and very fortunate to have times like these. I am grateful to be able to share these experiences with my dad.
Dad and I drove from Santa Fe. We met our cousin, Toby, who is from Las Cruces, and came to help us on the hunt. (I don't know how we'd have done this without his help.) We stayed in our camper during the hunt and used Toby?s truck to drive around.
At 8:20 a.m. on the second day, Toby stopped the truck and turned it off. He swore that he had heard an elk. A moment later, an unmistakable bugle echoed through the forest. We all hurried out of the truck and grabbed our backpacks. Dad took the tripod and I grabbed my rifle. Then we set off through the valley where the bugle came from.
?Stay in the shadows, keep quiet,? Toby whispered as we hid under the trees? shadows.
We walked up the valley quickly, and every few seconds an elk bugled. We could hear multiple elk, one on our right and one on our left, though the one on our left sounded closer. We continued along the side of the hill. I took the lead as we got closer to the noise. Another bugle sounded, this time even louder and ending in a loud grunt, and we could tell that the bull wasn?t too far from us.
?There they are! They?re right there!? Dad said behind me.
We all crouched down and moved forward. Then, when we passed a log that was blocking my view, I saw them. There was one big bull, one spike, and about ten cows. Toby ranged the big bull at 240 yards. We set up the tripod and I set my gun on it. Looking through the scope, I picked out the biggest bull. He was walking toward some oak brush on the right. I picked a spot on its shoulder and pulled the trigger. The first shot missed him. I jacked the bolt, aimed again and pulled the trigger. This time, the bullet hit him, and he slowed down, obviously hurting, but then he disappeared into the brush. The cows and the spike followed him, but weren't moving very fast. We decided to stay where we were and wait to see if anything came out of the brush. After about ten minutes, we moved forward to where the bull was when I shot him and looked for blood. Over the time that we stood in this spot, three different cows crossed the valley about 150 yards in front of us.
I put my gun up on the tripod, ready to shoot just in case the bull crossed the valley too. After the third cow crossed the valley, and we waited for a while without seeing anything else, Dad decided to search in the oak brush for blood. Toby and I stayed in the same place, still waiting to see if the bull would come out. While Dad was in the brush, another cow went across the valley. Not much later after the cow walked away, the bull came out into the valley. It wasn?t walking very quickly and I could tell it was the one that I hit. I shot at him three more times, missing the first two, but dropping him on the third. However, he was still kicking on the ground.
Dad came running out of the brush. ?Did you hit him? Is he down??
?Yes! He?s down,? I said.
As we were walking up to it, it jumped up and ran straight away from me. Without thinking, I lifted my gun up to my shoulder, aimed at the back of his head, and pulled the trigger. The bull dropped immediately.
When we get to him, we see he's a six by six with great mass in his antlers and a very big body. I am very happy and proud of him. We are very lucky, very blessed, and very fortunate to have times like these. I am grateful to be able to share these experiences with my dad.
