I was lucky enough to get two shots at this bull within about 10 seconds. Unlike the first shot, the second shot found its mark. I'll try to add the short story later. I've been gone for 10 days and family and work need some time. Thanks for looking and God Bless.
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/DSC03975a.jpg)
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/DSC03973.jpg)
Way to go!!! That's a beauty.
Waiting for the rest of the story!
Thanks God for second chances.Nice bull!Is that a phenolic risered Cheyenne A riser?carbon/foam limbs.what poundage and arrow setup did you use?
Congratulations
Nice bull! Congrats.
Great photos Goke!
Lookin' forward to the story - I am just guessin' that he was *too close* for you on the first shot and that you had to flush him to get him out there where you could take an effective 2nd shot!
:~)
Shoot straight, Shinken
I love stories about redheads
SWEET
That's a Purty Bull !!! Congrats!!! Will be waiting for the story...
Amazing. Get handy with plenty of details.
Congrats!
Bisch
Way to go Sean! Can't wait to hear the whole story.
its a beauty mate way to go
look forward to the pics
Your TG family needs you too.
Come on with the story already :goldtooth:
Fine elk!
Congrats on a fine bull be waiting for story and more pics.
Way to go! Congrats. Now the story. :campfire:
Wow! Congratulations!
Great looking animal, Congrats!!!
Way to go, Congrats!! :clapper: :clapper: :clapper:
Great Bull first or second or third chance !!! Good Job..... :clapper:
Great bull!! Congrats! :thumbsup:
Nice bull, where's the story?
OH my congrads on the elk, thanks i got the shakes now. :eek:
Wonderful Bull on a really nice hillside! Congrats!
:thumbsup: :clapper:
Beautiful Bull and awesome bow !!! I have one almost a twin. "A" riser Kudu overlays with finger grooves, Carbon/Foam 56 @ 28 = great preformers. :wavey:
I have spent many hours reading stories on the Pow Wow. They almost always make me feel like I was there with the person telling the story and I am very grateful for the ability to come along on the hunt. When I killed my bull this year I definitely wanted to share some pictures and a short story like I have in the past. However, as I started to write the "short version," I found myself reflecting more and deeper about why it is I enjoy traditional archery and traditional hunting so much, why it is I am driven to it, and why this hunt, like many other successful and unsuccessful hunts, gave me so much personal enjoyment and satisfaction. I also realized that the reflection necessary to write about the hunt causes me to have a deeper appreciation for the hunt, the animals we pursue, the lord who provides them to us and our families who allow us to hunt and/or hunt with us. The net result is a much longer explanation than I ever expected and a story that may or may not effectively communicate just how much joy and personal fulfilment traditional archery and hunting brings to my life. I am by no means an accomplished writer or story teller so pardon the rambling and take it for what its worth.
Here is the beginning of the story. The rest will follow.
As I slowly extended my head above the ridge line, I saw what appeared to be something pink sticking up through the grass. Peering through my binoculars confirmed that my prayers had been answered. My bull was down within 30 yards of the last place I saw him the night before, only the pink fletching of my "Ella Arrow" buried in his side as evidence of why.
So far, so good.
Nice Bull Sean.
I'm pretty sure that is an ILF with longbow limbs.
:campfire: :coffee:
Uh oh, sounds like another case of Lamb flu, maybe another well thought out and REALLY tell the story about to happen here.
Outstanding... Congratulations! :clapper:
Two of my grade school friends and I have hunted elk together in Montana for many years. About seven years ago we gave up bugling bulls in Western Montana and tried our hand at hunting in the Missouri Breaks area of north central/eastern Montana. We have returned to that area every year since. We are drawn back primarily because of the number of large bulls combined with the spot and stalk nature of the hunting. You can rarely call to these elk without spooking them. I didn't read that in a book. The inability to successfully call these elk definitely makes hunting them much more challenging but can often make harvesting them much more rewarding.
Over several years of trial and error we have managed to kill a half dozen bulls by spotting them when they move to and from feeding and bedding areas and stalking to intercept them. The likelihood of success using this technique increases significantly when the elk numbers are high. Yes I realize that statement probably deserves the comment, "now you're a master of the obvious" but it leads to my next point. This year, the weather was hot and the elk numbers were not high.
Earlier this summer we decided to take our trip in late September instead of early September like normal as we were primarily hoping that the weather would not be as hot. Like many things, that proved to be wrong. We experienced record temps in the 90s during the first two days and, needless to say, we saw very few elk.
Here are some photos of the area we are hunting. These were taken in the spring.
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/DSC00408.jpg)
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/DSC00391.jpg)
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/DSC00406.jpg)
Looks like great country. Keep it coming Sean.
Good Job!!! very nice Bull!!!!!
Thanks for sharing.
D
The first morning of our hunt found me and my good friend manning our usual posts on two small cliffs glassing for dark specs in the early morning light. This daily ritual of hunting, whether for elk, deer, antelope, turkey or otherwise, is probably my favorite. During those few minutes before you can actually identify what your looking at in the distance your mind is filled with wonder, hope and excitement about what the days hunt will bring. We all know the feeling. The only thing I can relate it to is the anticipation you felt on Christmas morning when you were a kid. I hope that feeling lasts forever.
On this particular morning we found only mule deer until about 8:00 when one of my hunting partners heard a crunch on the cliff directly behind him. Turning his head slightly revealed a large 6x6 bull in the absolute last place we expected him - 30 yards from the edge of the cliff. Why this bull and his two cows decided to saunter to the top of the ridge and edge of the cliff that morning is something we will never know but it supports a theory I've developed over many years of hunting elk - always be prepared to see elk where you least expect them. We have all had these experiences. Perhaps if we had only reminded ourselves of that theory on the first day of our hunt we would have been enjoying back straps for dinner on day one. The very brief encounter with that 6x6 ended with mixed feelings of disappointment and encouragement - disappointment with being unprepared for elk in that particular location at that particular time but encouraged by the fact there were elk in country.
Thank you for posting the next piece Goke!
(I was beginning to wonder if this story had ground to a dead end....)
Elk certainly do have a tendency to show up when you least expect it!
Keep this good stuff flowin' man!
Shoot straight, Shinken
Sorry for the wait. The rest will have to wait a bit too as I am scheduled to be out of town most of this week for work. Thanks
I can definitely relate to the "travel thing"....
It happens all the time.
Safe travels!
Shoot straight, Shinken
Yep an old hunting partner of mine would say after pouring over topomaps "Elk are where you find them"
Probably a truer statement about the critter could not be said.
Mike
Nice Job Goke!
Beautiful elk! :clapper:
Day two started and ended much like the first with very high temps and very few elk. Day three came with an expected cold front and moisture. If you have hunted eastern Montana you know that any significant moisture creates gumbo style mud that rivals the best glue. Not only does it severely limit your ability to get around but the stuff sticks with you for months - in your shoes, your clothes and even your bow. The only good news was the drop in temperature from the mid 90's to the mid 40's (no that is not a typo) caused the elk to move more and started them bugling. Given the gumbo style conditions we tried to focus more on sitting some tree stands that we had set up near some highly traveled trails and a water hole. It was raining so bad one evening that the rest of our crew opted to stay in camp and/or drive up the county road to check out some more public ground a few miles away. I opted for the "you'll never take an elk sitting in camp or driving the road" theory. However, I did opt for the closest tree stand to camp. This stand was located in a medium sized pine on a side hill over the finger of a pond. Judging by the evidence at the water hole the elk use it fairly often. However, as I skated down the muddy trail and slipped into the stand in a driving rain I could not help but think of the nearly twenty previous times I had sat that pond and never seen an elk. The driving rain did little to bolster my already limited confidence. About a half and hour before dark I heard what sounded like "elk noise" (if you have ever hunted these amazing animals you know what I mean by this, not calling but just the noises that only elk can make) coming down the draw. I began to pray for light as I instantly knew that shooting light would become the problem. I should have prayed for wind. As the darkness began to set in, the lead cow stepped from behind a tree merely 20 yards from me. She was followed by another cow, a calf and a large bull. They were on the trail that passed immediately to the right of my stand at about 4 yards. I couldn't help but think, the rainiest, wettest day of our trip and that is the day they decide to come in for a drink, why not when it is 95+ degrees? Nonetheless, as is often the case, the wind will blow at 20 mph for 8 hours until the sun sets, when the sun sets the wind stops. When the wind stops in this country, it swirls through every draw. That thought was passing through my mind at the exact second the lead cow threw her nose straight into the air as she walked directly at me less than 10 yards away. I was had. All four turned and, with amazing silence, made their way back through the trees and up the hill away from the pond. My heart continued to pound for a good minute as I sat there giving thanks for this amazingly close encounter. What I didn't know at that time, was that I would run into this bull and his cows again and the second time I would have the wind in my favor.
Here is a picture of the pond taken in the spring. In the fall, the water is much lower. The stand location is along the trail on the left of the photo.
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/DSC00399.jpg)
Eat your heart out Charlie Lamb! Told with tact and incredible patience. Good work Goke!
Great story and pix. Congrats on the fine bull :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
Great bull. Thanks for sharing the pics and story!
Great story ! Keep it coming..
Excellent writing! I can't wait for the rest.
That night we completed another daily ritual of hunting camp – sipping a cold beverage and trying to figure out how to out smart an animal that probably does not have a measurable IQ but has an absolute uncanny instinct for survival. We often joke that if this was a game amenable to keeping score, the elk are winning by an insurmountable margin. However, as one of my lifelong friends and hunting partners points out, if the goal were simply to spook them instead of shoot them, we are definitely winning that game.
At about 11:30 pm our discussions developed into a strategy. This strategy was not new but one that, in years past, had been difficult to follow. We decided that, due to the heat, the low elk numbers and the areas we had seen elk in the last few days, we needed to sit stands in a few strategic locations on a consistent basis if we had any hopes of connecting. I personally opted for a stand location in a small saddle at the top end (probably 800-1000 yards away from the pond) of the draw that leads to the pond shown above.
On the second or third evening sitting in my stand I had only been there five minutes when I looked up and saw a cow feeding about 150 yards away. Over the course of the next 15 minutes I realized that there was a substantial herd bedded on the ridge where she was located. The ridge leads onto some private property that we are not able to hunt. The next hour revealed more than twenty elk and a large (at least by sound as I never saw him that night) heard bull. I listened to the bull bugle and rake trees for about an hour. During that hour cows would consistently emerge from the trees, walk off the ridge into the open and start grazing. They acted almost as though they had specifically timed reservations as a few more would arrive almost every 15 minutes. The big bull, however, never showed himself through the trees. Ultimately they moved onto the private ground and moved directly away from me toward a feeding area about a mile away. Watching the sun set and listening to a big heard bull's bugle fading into the distance is not a terrible way to spend an evening.
The next morning I was in the same stand as darkness changed to light. Shortly before the sun rose, a lone spike bull wandered past at about 75 yards. He was headed to the same bedding area where the large herd bedded the day before. Out of curiosity I made a soft cow call. He stopped abruptly and stared in my direction. After about five minutes he was overcome by curiosity. He started to walk directly at me. Now I was in a dilemma. Half of my brain kept replaying the guttural sounds of the large heard bull I had listened to the night before while the other half kept saying shoot this spike if he presents a good shot. Perhaps the good Lord decided to help my internal dilemma. That spike walked within 10 yards of my stand three different times but each time he stood just behind one of the only trees blocking my shooting lanes. After he left, I wondered what would have happened had my brain not been so internally conflicted about whether to shoot him. I guess I'll never know.
That night I was back in my stand. I was admittedly dozing off when I heard the unmistakable bugle of the large heard bull I heard the previous night. He was just over a wooded ridge on the private property. Over the course of the next hour he bugled and ran a circle around his bedded herd. At one point he came within 100 yards of my stand but would not come closer. He finally showed himself. I was stunned! The luxury of hunting the same area year after year is that you get to see the same bulls and feel like you get to know them. This herd bull was a bull I had encountered two years earlier. He is an extremely large 7 x 7 with unmistakable antlers - they curl in toward the back and almost look like they are going to touch. This big guy ultimately took his herd and fed off in the opposite direction again. As they left, I sat daydreaming about how we were within inches of taking this incredible bull two years earlier.
Thanks for the this next installment Goke!
What great experiences! What great memories!
The way you're progressing on this remarkable story I will be enjoying it clear up to when I start scouting for elk for the 2010 season.
;~)
Have a great week!
Shoot straight, Shinken
Since I was able to find the video I shot two years ago, I've decided to add the story of this great 7x7.
We were hunting the same area in 2007. I was lucky enough to connect on a small bull on day two of our hunt. As a result, I had the privilege to hunt with one of my lifelong friends for the next seven days. He carried his bow and I carried my video camera. Unfortunately, hunting elk is a bit more difficult for him as he is deaf in one ear. Although you usually can't bugle these elk, you can use their bugling to locate them and close the distance. He, however, often finds himself wandering in the wrong direction due to his inability to pinpoint the sounds of the bugle.
One afternoon we heard a large bull repeatedly bugling in an area that is difficult to hunt because of the normal prevailing wind. We decided to give it a shot anyway. He, with my assistance on direction, closed the distance to the sounds of the bull. What we found was a large 7x7 with a number of cows that were feeding into the wind. Over the course of the entire afternoon we tried to stay to the side of this bull and his cows hoping for an opportunity. At one point we became so frustrated at his repeated bugles that we decided to try and make a small bugle with a mouth reed to see if we could entice him. We realized that this decision risked spoking them off. My pathetic bugle did nothing more than cause this big boy to bugle more and munch some grass. As we neared the fourth hour of trying to find a way to get in on this bull, the good Lord blessed us with just the break we needed. We had been following them slightly to their left and rear. As the cows crested a ridge and headed down the other side, the bull made a left turn and walked out to an opening on the ridge. We were not at all set up for shooting as we didn't expect him to make such an abrupt move. Nonetheless, my buddy drew his bow as the bull stepped from behind a small dead tree. We later determined the distance was 32 yards. The bull began to bugle just before he released the arrow. As a result, the bull did not jump the string or arrow as quickly as usual. The arrow arched toward him and was headed directly for the boiler room. But we never heard the thump! Which I couldn't believe because it looked like the arrow was perfect. What we later realized is the arrow dropped and passed literally within an inch of the bottom of his chest. Just as the arrow passed, he dropped to wheel and run. When he did that his chest covered the area where the arrow had just passed. To the naked eye, it looked like the arrow went right through his chest. To this day, I wonder what would have happened if he had not been in mid bugle when the arrow released. I wonder if he had heard the arrow a split second sooner if he would have dropped to run a split second sooner resulting in an arrow in the lower half of is chest? Once again, we will never know.
The good news is that I captured this amazing encounter on video. Although we didn't harvest this bull and my buddy was experiencing both the highs and lows of this type of encounter, we both realized immediately that the last four hours was permanently etched near the top of our respective hunting memories. To this day, we relive that experience on nearly every hunting trip we take, whether hunting for elk or not. This encounter in 2007 is why seeing this bull again from my stand brought back a whole bunch of emotions.
Here is the link to a short segment of the video. Enjoy! The video looks like the shot is farther but its right at 32 yards.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ydnq8sRZfgc
.
Is this story finished? I hope not!
Sorry everyone! Didn't intend to leave this unfinished this long. I've been swamped at work and dealing with the added fun of a flooded basement/crawlspace caused by a frozen water pipe during an unexpected early cold snap here in NW Montana. I'll get it done tonight or firt thing tomorrow. Thanks for following this.
Thanks for bringing it back up...great story and pics! Looking forward to the rest of it.
For me, one of the best things about hunting camp is losing track of the outside world. We hunt in an area with no cell service. Occasionally, we will pick up some spotty coverage in certain locations that is only good enough to send/receive a text message. Although I can count on one hand the number of text messages I send in a year, the ability to text comes in handy when daddy wants to electronically tuck the kids in for bed and let them know he is OK. Being so out of touch with the outside world causes days to run together – as a result, I climbed into my stand one evening trying to remember whether this was day 6 or 7 of our hunt.
After about 30 minutes in my stand, my efforts to count the last days were interrupted by the deep, guttural sounds of that all-too-familiar bugle. For about an hour Dusty's bull (as we now call him- I'm not sure if its good or bad to have a bull named after you even though you never harvested him) again bugled and ran circles around his bedded herd. I could not visually see him but he was just inside the tree line on the ridge opposite my stand. Once the herd began to move, I realized they were again moving directly away from me like they had done several times that week. I was so frustrated by this routine that I almost didn't hear the bulls bugling behind me.
It took me awhile to pin point where they were because of their distance but I figured that there were at least two satellite bulls west of me with the herd bull to my east. Every time Dusty's bull would bugle, the satellite bulls would answer. I sat there for what seemed like an hour trying to pinpoint the satellite bulls and determine whether they were moving closer. I quickly realized that at least one of them was moving my way. Then, as is often my luck, Dusty's bull moved his herd away from me. After he dropped behind the opposite ridge, I could no longer hear him. Apparently, neither could the satellite bulls as they too went silent. To say I was dejected was an understatement. I thought for sure these bulls were going to come in and challenge the herd bull and I would at least get a show, if not a shot.
As I sat in my stand, my brain struggling to come up with a better plan to put me within 30 yards of Dusty's bull, I heard what sounded like a horse coughing. This added to my frustration as all I could think was there were some beef cattle that had worked their way into this area, which is not unusual as there are grazing leases all over this area. I leaned to my left and looked back behind me expecting to see 1000 pounds of slow elk. To my surprise, I instead saw about 500-600 pounds of real elk. Directly behind me coming out of the draw and headed right through the saddle past my tree was a cow. I squeezed my bow and said "here is your chance, aim small." I increased the tension on the string and began to draw when something moved in the corner of my eye. I peeked and saw an extremely young calf trotting to catch up with its mother. Man, talk about highs and lows. I immediately realized I would not be able to shoot this cow with its calf in tow. Once again – dejected.
I hadn't been feeling sorry for myself for more than 30 seconds when I heard a twig break behind me. I again turned to my left to look behind me and standing on the edge of the timber on a line to go straight past my tree where the cows just walked was a bull. He stood silently for what seemed like an hour, just surveying the area and contemplating what to do. I too was contemplating, contemplating that for once the wind was perfect and I needed to "aim small" when he walked by me. Suddenly, this big boy went from a dead stop to a trot. I assume he had lost sight of his cows and finally decided to run them down. He trotted directly up the path where I expected him to walk. I had to try and stop him. I mewed a pathetic cow call with my lips. He stopped abruptly and looked in my direction- a mere 18-20 yards away. Before he could find me in my elevated perch, my arrow was on its way. With a loud thud, my arrow buried 12 inches into the sage brush directly beneath his chest! I missed 2 inches low!!!!
To my utter amazement, the bull jumped straight up like a world-class saddle bronc, took two or three hops up the hill and stopped broad side again. In hindsight, I figure that, while he was jumping, part of my brain must have been saying - "I can't believe you just missed that chip shot" while the other part was saying "reload." I frankly don't remember pulling the second arrow out of my skookum one arrow quiver that I purchased for just this occasion. Nonetheless, before I knew it I was again at full draw. This time, he was staring directly at me. I released the second arrow. He wheeled and ran. As he ran, all I could see were pink fletchings buried in his side. My mind immediately realized that the shot was too far back for a broadside shot. However, what I didn't fully appreciate at that time was how much he was able to spin on me before the arrow hit him – probably because he was looking directly at me when I let it go. I later learned that my 29" Beman MFX classic 400 with my Grizzly El Grande entered about 4 inches behind the right rib, went through the liver and buried in the back of the offside lung.
He ran about 100 yards and stopped behind some trees. I cow called and he walked out to where I could see him but he had his opposite side to me so I couldn't tell exactly where the shot was. He stood there with his head down for probably 10 minutes. Two deer walked over the ridge and caught his attention. As a result, he slowly walked into some trees and out of sight. It was getting pretty dark. I was pretty sure the shot was fatal but I truthfully thought it was further back and not at such a steep quartering angle. I struggled over what to do- give him time and come back in the morning or give him time and try and find him in the dark? I ultimately decided to leave him and hike back in the morning. Anyone who has left an animal overnight knows exactly how I felt that night. By the time I fell asleep I second guessed myself to the point that I was convinced he was gut shot and I would never find him.
As I walked through the dark the next morning I replayed the scenario in my head over and over trying to glean one more piece of helpful information from my memory. The wind had changed overnight and I was forced to hike much further than I had planned so I could get to a ridge down wind of where I last saw my bull. I reached the top of the ridge just after day light. As I slowly crested the ridge my binoculars picked up that hint of pink in the grass that I had prayed for the night before. I could see my bull's antlers and the pink fletching of my arrow sticking up through the grass. To say I was elated is an absolute understatement. My "Ella Arrow" had done the job. My bull had not gone 30 yards from where I last saw him.
I spent the rest of the week glassing and spotting for my buddies. The luxury of harvesting an animal in the middle of a multi day hunt is that you have time to reflect and ponder what it is we do and why we do it. I recalled how three months earlier I was undertaking the yearly task of building my hunting arrows and thinking - maybe I will use pink this year in honor of my baby girl Ella who was born in May. My three year old son Kash thought it was an awesome idea and he coined the term "Ella Arrow." Perhaps its luck or simply coincidence but Ella appears to have a knack for this hunting thing. So far in 2009 Ella's arrows have helped Daddy harvest his antelope, his elk and a whitetail doe. The only thing I have missed was a nice Tom Turkey a few weeks before Ella was born. Needless to say, I missed him with my normal yellow fletched arrows.
One other thing that I realized while spending the next couple days glassing was that my bull was the same bull I had encountered at the pond several nights earlier. He still had the cow and calf but had apparently lost the second cow. Little did I know that I would get a second chance at him – or, as it turns out, a THIRD. When I was a kid my dad used to say that second chances are earned. I'd like to say that I earned this bull but truthfully there was a lot of luck involved. Either way, I'll take it. He's a wonderful bull! I cherish the opportunity and the memories created by this hunt. Hopefully, there are many more pink-arrow-bulls in my future. Perhaps some of them will succumb to a pink arrow launched from Ella's own bow! That, my friends, will be a wonderful day.
As Bob M. pointed out earlier in this post, I shot this bull with a Morrison ILF with longbow limbs. It's a 54" bow and 60# at 28". As many of you know, Bob makes a fantastic bow.
Here are a few more pics of my view while glassing for my buddies. Thanks for following this.
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/sun.jpg)
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/DSC04016.jpg)
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/DSC04015.jpg)
(http://i470.photobucket.com/albums/rr66/seangoke/DSC03995.jpg)
You are living my dream Goke, that's awesome congrats on a great bull.
Beautiful bull and wonderful story from start to finish! Don't worry about dragging it out so long either. You took us right on up into November and now we're only 10 months away from chasing them again! Glad I could follow you on your hunt :thumbsup:
What an awesome hunt! Thanks for the way you took tour time and thought it out. It is a great read. Your hunt was a success even before you took the bull. He was just icing on the cake!
Congrats on the great bull too!
Very well told and fantastic hunt! Thanks for your efforts in writing and keep those Ella arrows sharp!
Congrats! :campfire: thanks for sharing , marco
Thanks Everyone. Kenny, your absolutely right. I count my blessings every day I am able to hunt whether I harvest anything or not. Thanks.