It was the second rifle season and upon arrival to camp there was about 6 inches of fresh snow on the ground. Saturday and Sunday were relatively uneventful for me, but my dad connected with a 6x6 bull on Saturday morning. On Monday, the weather warmed up significantly and I found myself glassing a quakey patch at about 2 in the afternoon. I noticed my buck about 350 yards out, slowly feeding through the quakeys toward me. I kept trying to find a shooting lane through the trees, but he never stopped in the right spot for a good shot. He disappeared into a draw and I thought I had blown my chance at him. At this point, I didn't know he was the size of buck he was, but just knew he was a nice 4x4, at least. All of a sudden, after being out of sight for about 5 minutes, he appeared on the hillside below me, feeding up almost directly at me. He fed to within 30 yards of me when he stopped broadside and I got my shot. One shot and he crumpled where he stood. The whole thing really got my heart going; I couldn't believe my luck that he fed right up to me, out of all possible game trails he could've taken. It was a heck of a fun time and I'm glad I got to share it with my dad. His elk was also the biggest he had ever taken in his 40+ years of hunting. 2013 turned out to be one for the books for me and pops.