throwfar
Active Member
- Messages
- 152
Hello fellow hunters, I have a story to tell about last year's hunts.
One day I blinked and he went from a newborn to a 12 year old, it boggles the mind how relative time is. The joy of getting to teach him why we hunt, how to hunt, and the joy of the hunt is by far some of my favorite memories.
Day 1
Early October mornings the cold cuts you despite the eagerness to push up the mountain, until you hit the tipping point of when the heat of your muscles pushes the cold out and you're left with the sweat on your brow. We were heading to a spot I had been many times before and had seen bulls there while guiding the archery hunts. We were off to a late start on account of the traffic around the mountain I wasn't expecting, and was highly discouraged to see. We got there just in time to see a bull we had nicknamed Mr. P, because of his large palmatted antlers, waddling away at over 1000 yards. We knew to catch him would be impossible and where he was heading we had very little chance to see him without bumping him. We let him be, to hunt another day. Time to head to another part of the mountain.
On a narrow ridge we settle in a spot that gave a great vantage of a dirt tank and a deep dark canyon, the type of place big bulls like to hide. At 4pm I spotted a mass of cows with a few rag horns down the canyon so we moved to get a better look. I decided on a spot that was 500 yards from the elk, I realize this seems far, but my son and I had spent many hours at the range shooting in excess of 1200 yards for a moment like this. He shot a 3 inch group at 600 yards, I had complete faith in him with his 300 win mag and hand loaded 190 grain berger vld hunting bullets, coming out at 2910fps. We waited, a mistake we could have gotten much closer, but I thought we were well within range for a stationary shot, why push it. At around 530pm my wife eagerly runs over and says there is a huge bull coming down the canyon, another mistake, we get excited. My son feeds on the excitement as the bull is walking at a healthy pace straight across the canyon from us, carrying a rack every inch of 370. He stops where the cows are hanging out in the trees and lets out some bugles, the satellite bulls scram knowing pain awaits if they stay. Our big bull steadily makes his way down through the trees stopping behind every dark patch never giving us a shot, unbelievable how does he knows where to stop, it's as if he knew we were watching him. My son finds him in the scope only to lose him as he turns up the power to get a shot, another mistake, we only practice shooting long distance at 32x. The bull makes it to the edge of the timber at 450 yards I turn the turret 6 clicks, tell my son when he comes out I will cow call and for him to settle the crosshairs behind the shoulder, stay calm. There is no staying calm he's full of panic and excitement. The bull steps out I cow call, the bull could care less, my son has him in the scope but he's walking too fast for a good shot. I let out a bugle, the bull continues to walk, I hit another bugle as loud as I can, nothing. My wife calls out 475 yards, I tell him keep the scope on him and when he stops shoot. 490 yards, 500 yards, my son surprises us all and shoots right over his back, perfect left to right just inches high, the bull stops he doesn't know where his predators are, my son shoots again, and again an inch over his back. That did it, the bull hits his turbos and is gone in the blink of an eye. We sit for 30 minutes in disbelief of what just happened, so many errors, should have gotten closer, should have had a better shooting position, shoulda coulda woulda. We head back to camp with plans to return in the AM to check for blood on the off chance our eyes deceived us and he hit the bull.
Day 2
Sleep rarely finds you after days like we just had, I might have slept an hour, probably not. We work our way down the ridge in the dark, wait till day break, there are exactly zero elk to be seen. We head over to where the bull was when he was shot at, and as expected no blood, just empty tracks. We work our way to another glassing spot and turn up elk just nothing worth chasing. As we work our way back to camp just as the light is failing we see our old friend, Mr. P, working cows down a canyon, too far away for today, but tomorrow, hope.
Day 3
Back at the spot where we saw the monster bull, he's still there. My wife sits point and I take my son to intercept the bull. We get in position every possible shot is under 150 yards, we wait, and wait, and wait. I look for my wife in my binoculars she is signaling the elk are headed the other direction. We move, and move fast. We are running and hear the bugle we are close. I stop my son try and calm him down, tell him to catch his breath. We move slow, I see the bull no more than 80 yards away, my mind is trying to wrap around how big his antlers are when my son sees him. Another mistake there is a perfect tree 2 yards to our left that would make an excellent rest, I don't think fast enough and my son is shooting. Boom my ears are ringing I wasn't ready for this. Boom, boom the bull turns and looks at us and like a magician he's gone. We spent an hour looking for blood to find nothing, clean misses. I have never seen my son so low. The "I sucks", and "how could I miss that close" break my heart. I tell him it's my fault he doesn't believe me. We hadn't planned on the hunt taking this long so we have to go back to town to pick up my youngest who is eager to join the hunt.
It's incredible how the hunt changes in the blink of an eye. We had picked my son up and were driving back into the mountain and as we made our way around a corner a herd of elk are standing in the road. They see us and spook we get out of the truck and find a decent rest, I range the bull at 450 tell my son, and he shoots just as the bull stops to look back. Smack a hit, the bull staggers, my son shoots again, hit, I see he hit him in the leg and tell him to shoot higher, he shoots right over his back, I tell him shoot where he had been shooting. One more shot and he anchors the bull the to the earth. An experience that will be with me for the rest of my days.
One day I blinked and he went from a newborn to a 12 year old, it boggles the mind how relative time is. The joy of getting to teach him why we hunt, how to hunt, and the joy of the hunt is by far some of my favorite memories.
Day 1
Early October mornings the cold cuts you despite the eagerness to push up the mountain, until you hit the tipping point of when the heat of your muscles pushes the cold out and you're left with the sweat on your brow. We were heading to a spot I had been many times before and had seen bulls there while guiding the archery hunts. We were off to a late start on account of the traffic around the mountain I wasn't expecting, and was highly discouraged to see. We got there just in time to see a bull we had nicknamed Mr. P, because of his large palmatted antlers, waddling away at over 1000 yards. We knew to catch him would be impossible and where he was heading we had very little chance to see him without bumping him. We let him be, to hunt another day. Time to head to another part of the mountain.
On a narrow ridge we settle in a spot that gave a great vantage of a dirt tank and a deep dark canyon, the type of place big bulls like to hide. At 4pm I spotted a mass of cows with a few rag horns down the canyon so we moved to get a better look. I decided on a spot that was 500 yards from the elk, I realize this seems far, but my son and I had spent many hours at the range shooting in excess of 1200 yards for a moment like this. He shot a 3 inch group at 600 yards, I had complete faith in him with his 300 win mag and hand loaded 190 grain berger vld hunting bullets, coming out at 2910fps. We waited, a mistake we could have gotten much closer, but I thought we were well within range for a stationary shot, why push it. At around 530pm my wife eagerly runs over and says there is a huge bull coming down the canyon, another mistake, we get excited. My son feeds on the excitement as the bull is walking at a healthy pace straight across the canyon from us, carrying a rack every inch of 370. He stops where the cows are hanging out in the trees and lets out some bugles, the satellite bulls scram knowing pain awaits if they stay. Our big bull steadily makes his way down through the trees stopping behind every dark patch never giving us a shot, unbelievable how does he knows where to stop, it's as if he knew we were watching him. My son finds him in the scope only to lose him as he turns up the power to get a shot, another mistake, we only practice shooting long distance at 32x. The bull makes it to the edge of the timber at 450 yards I turn the turret 6 clicks, tell my son when he comes out I will cow call and for him to settle the crosshairs behind the shoulder, stay calm. There is no staying calm he's full of panic and excitement. The bull steps out I cow call, the bull could care less, my son has him in the scope but he's walking too fast for a good shot. I let out a bugle, the bull continues to walk, I hit another bugle as loud as I can, nothing. My wife calls out 475 yards, I tell him keep the scope on him and when he stops shoot. 490 yards, 500 yards, my son surprises us all and shoots right over his back, perfect left to right just inches high, the bull stops he doesn't know where his predators are, my son shoots again, and again an inch over his back. That did it, the bull hits his turbos and is gone in the blink of an eye. We sit for 30 minutes in disbelief of what just happened, so many errors, should have gotten closer, should have had a better shooting position, shoulda coulda woulda. We head back to camp with plans to return in the AM to check for blood on the off chance our eyes deceived us and he hit the bull.
Day 2
Sleep rarely finds you after days like we just had, I might have slept an hour, probably not. We work our way down the ridge in the dark, wait till day break, there are exactly zero elk to be seen. We head over to where the bull was when he was shot at, and as expected no blood, just empty tracks. We work our way to another glassing spot and turn up elk just nothing worth chasing. As we work our way back to camp just as the light is failing we see our old friend, Mr. P, working cows down a canyon, too far away for today, but tomorrow, hope.
Day 3
Back at the spot where we saw the monster bull, he's still there. My wife sits point and I take my son to intercept the bull. We get in position every possible shot is under 150 yards, we wait, and wait, and wait. I look for my wife in my binoculars she is signaling the elk are headed the other direction. We move, and move fast. We are running and hear the bugle we are close. I stop my son try and calm him down, tell him to catch his breath. We move slow, I see the bull no more than 80 yards away, my mind is trying to wrap around how big his antlers are when my son sees him. Another mistake there is a perfect tree 2 yards to our left that would make an excellent rest, I don't think fast enough and my son is shooting. Boom my ears are ringing I wasn't ready for this. Boom, boom the bull turns and looks at us and like a magician he's gone. We spent an hour looking for blood to find nothing, clean misses. I have never seen my son so low. The "I sucks", and "how could I miss that close" break my heart. I tell him it's my fault he doesn't believe me. We hadn't planned on the hunt taking this long so we have to go back to town to pick up my youngest who is eager to join the hunt.
It's incredible how the hunt changes in the blink of an eye. We had picked my son up and were driving back into the mountain and as we made our way around a corner a herd of elk are standing in the road. They see us and spook we get out of the truck and find a decent rest, I range the bull at 450 tell my son, and he shoots just as the bull stops to look back. Smack a hit, the bull staggers, my son shoots again, hit, I see he hit him in the leg and tell him to shoot higher, he shoots right over his back, I tell him shoot where he had been shooting. One more shot and he anchors the bull the to the earth. An experience that will be with me for the rest of my days.
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