maximusbs
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Two Tags, Two Thousand Miles, and Two Elk
In 2019, my oldest son (16 at the time) drew a Youth Any Bull tag in Utah. We’ve taken a few deer in CA and one in Utah, but this was our first elk tag. I e-scouted for months, talked with UDWR biologists, scouted for a week in June and even met locals. We hunted hard (brutal backcountry ascents and all) for 9 days in 3 different units all over the state. Most of our hunt we saw nothing but old sign, cattle, one distant rag horn, and on the last day we got within 600 yards of intercepting some high-alert elk returning from a depredation run, but I misjudged their escape route. After that disappointing strike-out, I decided to call Huntin’ Fool in 2020. Cedar City has been a regular RV stop and vacation-launching spot for years and I’d always wondered about that building with the seemingly familiar, self-describing moniker on it.
I asked HF if they had something more doable than the previously described hunt, in case I had to do it alone. My son would be getting ready to go away to college in Utah and I wasn’t sure if he would have time to go hunting in the fall. They set me up with a hunt advisor who told me about the Idaho “A tag”; an early-through-late season, antlerless depredation tag with an archery-bull option. This sounded quite doable. All I had to do was catch a cow elk on public land coming to or from an alfalfa pivot. Definitely doable. After I got my tag, I told my son about it and since opening day was August 1st, he would be available and agreed to go with me. I was very excited to have my son join me on our last hunt before he went off to school. As I scoured the IDFG website for information in preparation, I discovered that he could get the mentored youth tag for just $40! Now we each had a tag and our excitement level doubled. My heart soared with the hope that my son could get his first elk before he turned 18 and went off to university. Now we needed another rifle. Being a big Randy Newberg fan, I picked up a Howa .308, of course.
We began our 1,000 mile trek from southern California, stopped over in Cedar City, tuned up the rifles, and then headed to Idaho the next day. We parked the RV, unhitched the Jeep and scouted that evening and for the next two days. I was getting concerned. Most of the elk had not yet moved down from high elevation to begin their alfalfa raids. We talked with a few kind ranchers and helpful IDFG agents to learn that some pivots were being visited, but only in the wee hours of dark-thirty. One evening we watched a large river-bottom ranch as a resident bachelor group of 17 bulls fed, sparred, and worked out their social standings. We discussed our observations with some fellow hunters camped next to us, who assured us this was pretty typical for the area. They were down from Boise scouting for the archery-bull option of the A-tag. Two and a half days of scouting and we had seen zero antlerless elk on or off private ranches. Opening morning we watched the sun rise just outside the “bull-bachelor-party” ranch just in case some cows had visited overnight and were leaving the party during shoot-time. The bulls were still there; pronghorn and whitetail were all getting their fill of alfalfa too…but no cow elk. We had to come up with a new strategy for the evening hunt.
I scoured my On X maps to find a drainage, close to pivots, yet providing the most immediate elevation gain to dark timber and sanctuary. Per tag requirements, this had to be within 1 mile of the pivots. I found a drainage that had a small, spring fed, tree-lined stream connecting to ridges that quickly rose up to 8,500 feet elevation. A treeless knob, decorated with shale slides and sage rose up a daunting 700 feet above the stream and ran back and up to meet a finger ridge which, according to On X, was just about 1 mile from the nearest oft-raided, uncut alfalfa pivot. The plan was to get a commanding view of the drainage, spot the elk as they emerged from the dark timber, and intercept them as they moved from elevation into the one mile range... hopefully before the end of shoot-time at 9:30 pm. It was 7:15 when we parked the Jeep at the end of the trail at the base of the knob. We began our side hilling, zig-zag attack on the knob. About 20 minutes in, my son shot me the “are you serious” look as we leaned on our trekking poles catching our breath. I looked back with a grin and said: “Now this feels like elk hunting!” As we side hilled above the tree lined stream below I noticed a well-used cattle trail following a fence line on the far side of the stream, visible just over the treetops that lined the stream. I stopped, ranged the trail at about 200 yards and checked the wind. The wind blew perfectly steady to our faces and down the drainage. A jagged rock outcropping about a hundred yards further, well short of the peak and the mile deep marker, became our new goal born of exhaustion. We put our shoulders to the grade and took a few steps forward when my peripheral vision picked up elk heads and lots of them! On a small bench between the stream and the fence line, about a dozen antlerless elk stood relaxed, lazy and unaware of our presence 200 yards above them. We dropped our packs and inched down on our bottoms behind some sage. It took seemingly forever for us to find the right position and our breath. It was not supposed to happen this quick! We each settled on an elk and I counted to three…
When the smoke cleared, two elk were down. We jumped up, hugged and high-fived while striving to find the words to describe what just transpired. When we turned our attention back toward our downed elk, we noticed only one. Mine was gone. I scanned each group of strangely calm, retreating elk for an injured animal. Nothing. We continued descending the steep shale slide toward the stream. We finally reached the bottom and came up toward the bench where my son's elk lay when we discovered mine had rolled from the cattle trail, through a fence, 25 yards down, through sage and saplings to rest right in the middle of the stream! Relieved, we took our pictures and began the daunting task before us. We finished mine by about 2am, rested back at camp for 4 hours, then returned to work on the other elk at sunrise. On our way out, we asked our new friends from camp for a little help. Luckily, they agreed and it didn’t hurt that they were 20 years younger than me, more experienced with elk, and one of them happened to be a butcher by trade.
- tanned (by a professional) elk hide
As we went to bed that night our hearts overflowed with gratitude. I was thankful to God, my supportive wife, the helpful people at IDFG, our new friends from Boise, and Huntin’ Fool for helping both my son and I get our first elk.
- 3 huge ice chests full of elk!
- Our first taste! Elk backstrap.
