Trad Gang
Main Boards => PowWow => Topic started by: Owlgrowler on September 08, 2011, 07:44:00 PM
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(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0081_1050.jpg)
A little teaser, I'm still out here, my son still has a tag and the wapiti are getting wound-up. More pics and story to follow.
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:thumbsup: :thumbsup: Can't wait! :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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:thumbsup: :thumbsup: Can't wait! :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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A tag on an antler blood on a hat, now that is a tease. :campfire:
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:clapper: :clapper: :D :clapper: :clapper:
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:campfire:
God bless,Mudd :archer:
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Especially since I leave on Sat to go to WY!!!!!!
Bring it Growler!!!!!! Got no time for teasin!!!!!!
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NO FAIR!!!!!
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Nice.... :thumbsup: ! Can't wait for the story and the rest of the pics to go with that first one..... :campfire:
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This should be good.
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:clapper: :coffee:
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:coffee: I'm up...let's roll :)
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:thumbsup: :campfire:
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You have out attention with that pic....bring on the rest!
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:campfire: :archer:
Im ready for another story!!!!!!
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Patiently waiting! :coffee:
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Until I see meat hanging I'll assume you wasted your tag on a shed! Just kidding, let's hear the story.
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My son, Jim, moved to Jackson, WY in 2008 to pursue his career as a flyfishing guide. He also pursues the local elk, mulies and antelope when he has the time. He bagged a few good ones with the '06 last year,and now that he has those under his belt, I'm hoping he picks up his bow a bit more. Anyhow, he convinced me to apply for an elk tag and after a sucessful draw, the plan began.
On August 20th I loaded up the truck, threw in the wife and daughter, picked up my buddy's trailer that was overloaded with household stuff and tools,(it put a strain on the Cummins), and headed west for Libby, MT, where he is going to live out the rest of his days. Lucky guy. I hope to join him in the near future.
Took Route 2 across MT. Man, there's a lot of grasshoppers out there!! I think they're made of crazy glue. There were so many jammed in the radiator the truck started running hotter.
After a couple days recovery, we headed south to Missoula to give my daughter a sense of what's out there should she decide to go to graduate school. Stayed at Ruby's for the night, then started for Jackson Hole the next day. Met my son at a local watering hole where a lot of guides go after a day on the Snake. It was good to have the family together again.
Put my girls on their planes heading east on the 30th, AND GOT READY TO HUNT!!
Jim had half day trips on the first 2 days of the season, so we had to be out of the woods by 11:00. Mornings were cool, low 30's, afternoons were close to 80. The first day we went up Dog Creek a couple miles, heard a bugle, saw a branch-antlered bull about a mile away, and headed his way. Ran into a small bull moose on the way. Never saw him again, but we did see a spike and a couple cows. This pic is the kid pulling away from the old man to see what's in the draw ahead.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0029_999.jpg)
Never try to keep up with a 23 year old. I didn't have enough water, got dehydrated, head was pounding. We were at 6-7000 feet. And,I didn't have my caffeine fix. Took a cocktail of tylenol and advil that night and turned in.
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(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0030_1000.jpg)
This is the same pic zoomed in
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:campfire:
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:coffee:
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:campfire:
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Day 2. We decided to take up an offer to cross private property to access a mountain that, out of respect to the locals, will remain un-named. This involved a bit more climbing, and keeping up with the kid was a work-out, but, we started to hear the flutes. This area is very broken up,lots of up and down,convaulted I believe is the word, with a lot of springs and drainages, open sage ridges, dark timber slopes, aspen flats and hillsides, perfect.
We headed towards the nearest bad-daddy, one of those growling, deep chuckling bulls that makes the hair stand up on your neck and the adreneline start to flow. Just to get a look at him would make it all worthwhile. We closed the distance to about 200 yards, but he wasn't ready to brawl. Then another one bugled right below us on our side of the draw, and we thought, "Here we go". We could hear him walking in the timber towards us, but even with our most seductive cow talk he wouldn't come into view. Everybody shut up and the world went silent, we waited about a half hour, nothing.
So, we climbed back up to the ridge, glassed the open slope across from us, and saw a small bull walking into the head of the draw about a half- mile away. Too far with our time contraints. Onward and upward we went. When the ridge leveled out we stopped to rest and spotted a cow and calf on the ridge to our south. Jim called with his bugle and a bull answered way up ahead of us. I was bushed and Jim had to think about heading down the mountain, so we stayed where we were. 10 minutes later a bull chuckles about 200 yards away right on top of the ridge with us, he's coming!!
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0038_1007.jpg)
The old man.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0036_1005.jpg)
The Kid.
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Great pics, keep 'em coming. Love the old man pic. My widow/quiver combo for this yr is your bows twin.
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:campfire:
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:thumbsup:
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:campfire:
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Very cool Tad, but could you pick up the pace? :readit: :D
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:bigsmyl:
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Nice pics and story,I wait for the rest!
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awesome :campfire: :campfire:
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A Chinese fire drill erupts, granola bars and water bottles are replaced with calling and killing gear. I pussy-foot up the trail 50 yards to a group of small conifers, the main trail is 15 yards to my left,upwind, and I have a nice semi-open flat on my right. I got it covered. I glance back at Jim to make sure I can recieve hand signals, and there's a cow standing right next to him!!
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0032_1002-1.jpg)
Dang Montana Decoys.
I can hear the bull popping limbs up ahead... then all went silent, we waited and waited, nothing. Time to head back down the mountain. These bulls just weren't ready to play.
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Day 3, Saturday, Jim has an all day trip on the books, and I'm beat. I took the day off and did some scouting, etc.
Day 4. This is the day I was really looking forward to. We put the coordinates of BLM land in the GPS, launched Jim's Clackacraft on the Snake, and floated down to some huntable river bottom spots. Tracks, trails, beds and droppings were everywhere, but we didn't see or hear a thing. I guess they only go out there at night, then back to private land during the day.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0040_1009.jpg)
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:thumbsup:
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Day 5, Labor Day. Jim had to work all day. So, I planned on going back to were we went the fisrt day, Dog Creek. But, when the alarm went off that morning, something told me to forget it. It's a popular trail head, and there was an outfitter starting to bring in his trailers, etc. So, I waited a bit, then went on a scouting foray, starting with Dog. I met a young cowboy there that worked for the outfitter, they had no problem with me being there, which was refreshing, and he gave me some great information. Only thing was, there was another guide in there that morning with 2 out-of-state bowhunters, and they were setting up a spike camp right where I was going to go that morning. That would have been a crowd. These guys are making a living at this, so I'm glad I didn't go hornin in on their spot.
So, I drove around a bit to some other spots I found on the maps, and found 2 promising spots. Then late in the afternoon, I went to the nearest one, hiked in and up a couple miles and glassed until dark. All I saw was a couple moose, more horseback riders than I was comfortable with, and 3 piles of wolf dung, hmmm...
One of Jim's buddys is from New Zealand and his father was in town having a small Labor Day get-together. Jim had just put a piece of loin from his 6 year old bull that he shot last season and had been in the freezer almost a year, on the grill when he called me and told me I should come over and join the festivities. It's always good to see who your kid hangs with. I was impressed, good bunch of people. And one of em, Don,is also an outfitter.
When I drew my tag, I prepared myself to bring it home empty, or on a big bull. I was not going to shoot a small one. The kid thought I was nuts, "Shoot the first branch-antlered bull".
So, the old, freezer burned, dried out, rank bull loin came off the grill, and was immediately consumed! Man, that stuff is good. And then I talked with Don, and he told me there were a lot of elk on "No Name" mountain, mainly because, for some reason,there are no wolves. And he told me, "Shoot the first branch-antlered bull".
It was time to get serious.
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Great story telling! I am on the road now, but can follow along on my phone. Lovin every last detail of your trip!
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:campfire:
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:campfire:
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Day 6. I'm flying solo for the next few days, Jim's booked for the next 2 days, then I will put him on the plane Thursday a.m. for a Saturday wedding back in NJ.
I get out of the truck and hit the trail about 5:15, put my head down and go, onward and upward until I hear a bugle. I go up the same spine that we went on day 2, and right about in the same spot, there's that same sounding bugle. Instead of bugling back and going down the north slope through the timber, I back down a bit, cross the top of the spine on an open bench, and there across the draw on the open south slope is a small bull about 200 yards away,(as the bullet flies, there's a deep ravine between us), walking a trail up and in to where the bugle came from. I cow call to him to get his attention, he looks my direction for a bit then continues on, disappearing into the timber that covers the bottom of the draw and spreads up the slope he's on. I'm cow calling as I move towards him across the open bench, and as I hit the timber I notice a big rub, NICE, there ahead is where I'll wait in ambush. He gives a weak, whiny little bugle, I got him hooked and I'm reeling him in. As I'm getting to my spot, I see a heavily used trail exiting the bench, with another nice rub. So, I decide to take a peek down this trail, maybe there's a better spo...,%$#@!!!, there's a bull 50 yards away and coming, but he's got me. All he can see is my face, but he doesn't like it, after a minute he wheels around and thunders away down the trail. I cow call to him and thought maybe I had changed his mind because I could hear limbs popping in the timber to the left of the trail, but no. If I had gone to the spot I had originally picked, and he continued on, it would have been a 15 yard shot. oh well
It's 8:00, I hydrate, eat a granola bar, chill, let things settle down, he never did smell me. And there it is, a hearty, big bull sounding bugle,maybe 200 yards up the draw. Game on! I continue on the trail the bull fled on and notice he never left it, the limbs I heard popping must have been another elk. And I'm pretty sure the bull I saw originally, wasn't the one that caught me flat-footed. Bunch o' elk in here.
I cross the creek in the bottom and make my way as silently as possible up the south side, I'm pretty sure they're going to stay in the timber all day. And with the sun heating up the thermals and the wind starting to swirl, it's probably a good idea not to get too close.
The big bull continues to bugle as he makes his way up and into his lair, pulling me along like the Pied Piper. Finally he stops, looks to be a bench in there in the timber. I'm directly across the draw from him now, 300 air yards seperating us. He bugled,chuckled, growled and whistled, all day.
I'm sitting on a heck of a trail, and its pointing directly at the elk. So I follow it back on my side of the ravine. Heavily used wallow. cool
Then I decide to go around the head of the draw, so that I can slip into the timber above him. As I'm approaching the head of the draw, there's one last tree then about 100 yards of open that I'll have to cross totally exposed to anything in the timber. I better think this over. Just as my butt touches the ground in the shadey cover of that tree, I see movement. It's him, and he's a biggun. And he's maybe a hundred yards away. Whew. So I watch him eat and rub a tree, it was awesome. Then he disappeared back down where I thought he should have been. Time for another plan.
I go back to my spot directly across from him by the trail leading to the wallow and take that time-honored elk hunting midday nap. You gotta be able to do that if you want to hunt elk. I fall asleep to the sounds of gusty swirling winds, first from the south, then from the north, thunder in the distance, bulls bugling every once in awhile... peaceful stuff.
All of a sudden I'm trying to shake the grog from my brain because the elk talk has changed, it's getting more frequent and I think closer. My head clears, and I realize he's not any closer, but the wind has changed, straight from the south, straight from him to me. I'm going in!
I go straight at him, down my slope right up into his bedroom, only I don't think he laid down all day. I just get in there and I see a cow heading down the ravine about 60 yards away, I was afraid there would be a lot of eyes and noses in here, but she never saw me, just natural movement. I wait until he makes a noise so that I can pinpoint his location. Soon he does a little chuckle, maybe a hundred yards away, up and in. I make my move, up a slope to my right, I rolled a rock, so I cow called. Three more steps to get to the top of a little knob and I catch movement ahead, 2 spikes and a cow at 25 yards. Freeze.
They're feeding. I'm in an awkward position, there's a dead branch under my pack's shoulder strap, I don't want to move, I can hear 'em talking to one another, I can hear the closest spike chewing, and here comes a branch antlered bull... Jim's words come back to me, "Shoot the first branch antlered bull", he's about 30 yards away, covered up with branches, no shot.
He beds down. Facing me. One of the spikes feeds by at 20 yards giving me a wide open broadside opportunity. Then he turns around and feeds back giving me the other side. I can't take it, I have to shift, I get the branch out, cool. Straighten my legs out, excellent. The big boy chuckles back in and I turn my head a bit to look, and the small bull sees it. Jumps to his feet and blows outta there.
I hit the bugle hard, raked some trees, tried to convince him that the little guy ran from another big bull and that he should come down here right away and kick some ass. He didn't buy it. He bugled back to me. As he took his herd up and out of the draw. Dang
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:campfire:
Great Story! Thanks for Sharing
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Heck it's a been a good hunt already! Nice there's even more.
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Day 7. Back to "No Name Mountain" again. I'm starting at around 6000 feet and finding elk 5 miles later at around 7500 feet. I decide to go up one spine to the south of where I was yesterday. This way I can hunt a big bowl-like drainage to the south or the more ravine like drainage to the north where I'm pretty sure the elk from yesterday ended up. Onward and upward I go until I hear that first bugle about a quarter mile ahead. I close the distance a couple hundred yards then stop. Drink, eat, get out the binos, put the diaphram in my mouth, put my new Brothers of the Bow hat on. Cool hat. I can't shoot a bow with a hat with a brim, but this one has a wire in the brim so a guy can push it up for string clearance at full draw.
I'm on an aspen covered bench, the mountain gets a lot steeper just ahead, and thats where he is, he bugles again about 200 yards away and I'm ready to put the move on him. I cow call to him and immediately I hear him coming, rolling rocks, popping branches. But he doesn't come in,he's just walking around, breaking branches, but vocally silent. Then he chuckles a bit, still up on the steep hillside but heading south into the bowl. I don't know what's making the racket down my way, so I leave it and head south, trying to catch up with this bull. The trees open up and he chuckles again straight up from me still about 200 yards away. The sun is starting to warm up and I know the thermals will begin to rise. I want to get ahead of him and on his level so I get on a trail that looks like it will take me on a collision course with him. As I'm hurrying down the trail I approach a small knob and I think to myself, "That looks like it could be a wallow on the other side of this hill". At that a calf squirts up out of this hole about 60 yards ahead followed by a cow and a bull bugles out of sight, right in front of me! I kneel down, one bush in front of me and out he comes following the cow, a beauty of a 6by with white tipped antlers. I cow call to him hoping he'll come back for this stray cow, but he won't budge, looking and looking, but he ain't coming. This goes on for about 5 minutes when all of a sudden there's a cow walking off the hillside where the original bull was, walking down to the other elk at the wallow. I shift a little bit so I can get a shot at the bull I know is following her. Only he didn't get the memo.
Those elk finally filter into the the timber on the other side of the wallow. I gotta move, my scent is going to be blowwing up that slope soon,and I'm sure there's a good ambush spot somewhere over there. I cross the wallow and it looks like there might be more wallows up the drainage, so I quickly move up there to see what it looks like. Nope. The original one is the best. I turn around and head down to get into the spot I had picked when first going through, and there's a cow coming out, followed by a calf and another cow. Dang! I hope he's not right behind them cause they're too far for a shot. These elk follow the first bunch into the timber and I quickly get set up on the wallow. 10 minutes later here comes another cow and calf off the hillside. He's gotta be behind this one. Again, we're on different scripts.
I hang there for an hour or so, nothing. So, I climb up to where I heard him last and decide he must have gone north, into the steep sided drainage. I make my way over to the spine/ridge that seperates the two drainages and start climbing. 15 minutes later a bull bugles down and across from me in the steep sided ravine. I stop right on the trail, sit down and throw a bugle of my own back at him. He ignores me. But I'm happy to sit in the shade for a bit, catch my breath, gaze in wide wonder at the world around me and listen. Well, my hearing ain't so great, cause the next thing I know there's a ruckus going on 20 yards up the trail and I turn just in time to see an elk bustin away down into the ravine. You gotta be kiddin me...
So, it's onward and upward once again for this weary flatlander. I'm tiring quickly now, stopping more than moving, at least it looks like it's going to level out just ahead. I top out on the rise, it must be around 8000 feet, I've climbed about 2000 feet this morning, and take another break, catch my breath.
There's a nice little flat pocket of timber ahead, so I walk over, get just inside the trees and bugle. Nothing. Except a limb popping straight ahead. I move towards the sound, silent on the dusty trail, and there they are, two spikes and a small branch antlered bull. Feeding like they were starved, totally unaware of my presence. I nock an arrow an walked slowly right at 'em. When I got to my confident range I stopped.I knew then that this was going to be the bull that would wear my tag. First one of the spikes walked through the chosen opening, followed by the branch antlered. I started my draw as he went behind some trees, anchored as he came out, released when he opened up.
I hit him almost where I was looking, initially I thought it was low, penetration didn't look great. He took about 5 quick steps and stopped behind some trees. I could his head and neck, and through the binos I could see the pudddle of blood under him. After a minute he took another 5 steps and stopped, "Go down, go down, go down, please go down", nope. I watched as he walked off again,the arrow looked tight on the elbow and blood was pouring out like water out of a spigot turned on low. Out of sight he went.
I backed out, got on the other side of the ridge so he couldn't hear me and texted the kid. Yeah, all this and I'm still in cell phone range. Jim called me when he stopped for lunch and we went over the details. He would try to get us a horse. He had a plane to catch in the morning.
An hour later I was on the bloodtrail. When I got to the place where he first stopped, I pulled out the camera to take a pic, and an elk jumped up directly below me and went crashing down the hill. You gotta be kiddin me. This was supposed to be easy, he was supposed to be laying dead just out of sight, not running on adreneline into the bowels of this steep ravine. "Hold it, keep your cool, maybe it wasn't him".
I continued on the bloodtrail and it wasn't him. Although he was going deeper. I was moving slowly and silently, glassing ahead every couple steps. There was definitely lung blood in the first couple puddles, but now it was getting sparse. And the birds, the freaking birds were eating the blood on the trail. About 150 yards into it, I spotted him, down, but not out. Ears flicking at the flies.
This is were the story gets a little sad, or depressing, or, I don't know the correct word, but, things just weren't right. I was the one that was resposible for putting this poor beast in agony and it was up to me to make it as right as I could. I could have just let him die, but... Anyhow, I shed my pack and bugle and put a stalk on him. He was facing directly away, with his legs under him, laying more on his left side, swinging his head around to his right side. So, I had to approach his almost covered left side. At 30 yards I could have taken a shot. But I thought I could do better. I got down to 10 yards. One little spot to hit behind the last rib, drew back and sunk it to the fletching. Whew, it was over.
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(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/ss.jpg)
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The shot was actually a bit back, it hit the back of the lungs, liver and stomach, and it poked threw the hide on the off side.
The real hero of the day was the kid. He rowed all day, then hiked in and packed out most of the meat while carrying the head in his hand. I had him boned out and the head skinned before he got there.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0077_1046.jpg)
I couldn't pick this pack up, let alone carry it down the mountain.
The bull expired in the very bottom of the ravine, so we had to do a bit of climbing to get out. We stopped to rest on a rock outcrop and this guy showed up.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0073_1042.jpg)
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/gg-1.jpg)
Jim practicing his draw
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Good job Tad!
I like the way you think.
You're always welcome in my camp.
God bless,Mudd
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Jim gets back tomorrow night, fishes Tuesday, then we're going to try and fill his tag Wednesday. The story might continue...
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Congrats, sounds like fun. Way to use your head.
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Congrats on a great bull! Should eat real well :thumbsup:
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Great story & bull! Congratulations! :thumbsup: :campfire:
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Thanks for letting us tag along!
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Congrats!! :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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Luv the details bud...congratulations on a great bull! :clapper:
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Great story and great hunt, glad it had a happy ending. Congrats.
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Great hunt! Hoping it continues...........
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:thumbsup: :notworthy:
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Riveting story, thanks, and good luck to you both on the rest of the hunt.
Chris
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Nice job with both the hunt and storytelling.
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Great pics and story! Congrats on a fine animal!
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GREAT STORY!!!!!!!!!
I felt like I was there :scared: We did that streach 2 weeks ago and our van heated up a little as well..........
Congrats on a great hunt :thumbsup:
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Jim had a half day afternoon trip, so we went out this morning. Bit foggy, full moon, saw some boot tracks, all in all a pretty slow morning- but, we did have a close one. Heard a bugle, did some maneauvers, had him close and then the kid out thought himself, tried to move to the spot he had originally picked, about 20 feet, and, well, as he he said, "I blew it!!" Bull saw him... we have one more day.
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Well Told Story, incredible perseverance, and on a DIY hunt, no outfitter, horses etc...
Inspirational....
Congrats.... :notworthy:
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Thanks for all the kind words guys. The kid couldn't seal the deal on our last day together- I'll give a final update next week- heading East in the morning.
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Great story, congratulations! :thumbsup:
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So, last day to hunt together. We get up and do all the same things. Only this time we go to yet another drainage. Onward and upward, and even though I've been doing this for a couple weeks now, it's killing me. I'm slowing the kid down. Finally we pop out on a small open hump where we can stop and glass the open south slope. And there they are, 2 bulls banging their heads together about a mile away, "There's your bull Jim, let's go get 'em." He flashes that big smile, "I love this game."
Now, there's a small tributary drainage between us and the main one, and it forms a point right out in front of us, same elevation as us, maybe 150 yards away. We go 20 or 30 yards and Jim notices elk walking around the end of the point, feeding up the drainage we're on. Small bunch of cows and calves. He comments that he's surprised there's no bull behind them. They go out of sight, but I keep glassing. There he his, head back, main beams as long as his body, lots of long tines, monster bull,(the kid has become a pretty good judge of antlers and he says it was a 310-320), biggest bull I've ever seen.
We cow call to him a bit and drop down into the small ravine, right into a calf. In hindsight, we should have cut the calf off from the herd and maybe momma would have come back looking for him, which in turn might have brought big boy back... who knows. We let him re-join the herd, and fell in behind, trying to sound like a couple cows that need a good spanking from the herd bull. He remained silent, so it was hard to tell if he even knew we were there. We went slipping silently up the bottom of the ravine and finally spotted him about 70 yards away up the slope, looking right at us, but not spooking. Finally he turned those massive antlers and walked slowly out of sight. I sent Jim towards him and backed myself down the ravine, hit the cow call a few times, then the bugle. He bugled back and started coming. He got to about 50 yards from the kid ,but wouldn't come any closer, he knew something wasn't right. He kept bugling every 15 minutes or so as he rounded the point and headed into the timber on the north facing slope of the main ravine.
We got up on the top of the spine now that seperates the small trib and the main drainage and glassed the hillside where we saw the first 2 bulls. We could only find 1 of them and he was traveling as if on a mission, down the slope and down the drainage, away from us. That's where we'll end the day, maybe we'll find him.
Up the ridge we go, leaving the big bull behind, but, we're going to change the diaphrams in our mouthes, get above and ahead of him, and drop down in front of him. As we're making our way down the hillside through some real thick small aspens, one hears us and bugles straight down in front of us, maybe 200 yards away. There's a bench right below us and it opens up a bit, couple more steps and we almost fall into a big waterhole/wallow, perfect. He bugles again and we can tell he's closer, he's coming. Jim scrambles to get around the bog and up on the top of the bench, 40 yards in front of me.
Then he shuts up. I cow call a couple times, nothing. Jim and the bugling bull are north of me. The big bull we left is east of me. 75 yards to the west I see legs coming, big 6X, coming in silent. He gets about 35 yards from the kid, doesn't like what he doesn't see, turns and ghosts away without ever giving the kid a shot. Dang.
When we get back together, Jim tells me he doesn't think that, that was the bull that was bugling. At first I disagreed, but after walking 40 yards out on the bench, I came to the realization that he was probably right. I whispered to him to get ready, the bugling bull was probably close. We kept softly cow calling while moving in the direction of the last bugle. Jim was easing out ahead and to my left about 25 yards as we approached the edge of the ravine, when I saw a pair of sticks come into focus AS A PAIR OF ANTLERS! AAAAH. I panicked. I should have just sat down. He was only 25-30 yards from me, couldn't see me, but his attention was on me, Jim would have looked that direction eventually.Anyhow, I did a couple high pitched silly squeals to get the kid's attention, Jim said as soon as he heard it he knew what was going on, turned and saw him run away. Another 6X6 not as big as the one we just called in to the waterhole. Double dang!
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Congrats on your bull, and can't wait to see how your son's hunt turns out. you are into them for sure!
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You had me sitting on the edge of my chair! Great story! Thanks for sharing your hunt with us.
Bernie Bjorklund
NC Iowa/SW Wisconsin
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Great Story telling!...CONGRATS on a Great BUll and thanks for sharing your hunt with us...
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Great story, I felt like I was on the hunt with you.
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Great writing!
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I've been putting off finishing the telling of this hunt for many reasons, time constraints mostly, and, I was hoping for a happy ending for my son...but, it wasn't to be. A heart-breaker for him actually. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
We hiked a few more miles that morning after the two close encounters of the elk kind. We headed north and when we were directly across from the first bull it was time for the mandatory woods nap- I really zonked- dreamt about trout fishing! About 4:00 pm we started glassing, spotted a cow and a spike on our side of the ravine, nothing except one bugle from the area by the waterhole on the other side. The wind started blowing,a thunderstorm in the distance was coming straight at us, and a full moon. Wasn't looking good for the evening hunt.
NoName Mountain is 99.9% public land, but there are ranchers that run cattle on it for summer pasture. Most mornings I'd hike up through the cows to get to where the elk were. In this ravine there wasn't as much space seperating them.
As we worked our way down the slope to the bottom, something grunted a little burp up where we left the first bull that morning. So we slipped quietly down and across and up the side ravine where we started running into elk that morning. Nothing but moo cows. Then down the ravine below us we heard what sounded just like an angus bull, only maybe a little flutey. It was him, the big boy, we just missed him when he came off the hill and actually crossed his path. He had us pegged, when Jim stepped into a small clearing he was looking right at him across the draw maybe a hundred yards away. Impressive bull. And that was it for me, my WY elk hunt was over.
Now for the Heart-breaker part. Jim went up solo last Thursday, called a big 5X5 in to 18 yards, put a 150 gr. 4 blade Stinger on a 5575 GoldTip, tight in behind the elbow, and never found him. He thinks the bull turned towards him just as he released, creating a quartering to situation. When he ran away his shoulder motion snapped the arrow, leaving about 12" in him. Jim watched him cover about 150 yards before entering thick timber. He gave him an hour before pursuing and found absolutely nothing after 8 hours of searching. He was sick. He had to work Friday. Then it was back up on Saturday. Nothing. I don't think I ever heard him so dejected. I've always heard a single lung shot animal can go a long way for a long time, I guess that's what happened.
Anyhow, typing this up has been good for me, surprising how quickly this feeble mind forgets things! Wyoming was good, real good. I did notice in both WY and MT that a lot of trails/roads are being gated off because of motorized vehicle abuse. Sad, but I'm glad they're doing it.
Next year, it's a big one or nothing
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Had a few guys asking how I did last fall, and with the WY draw results out, and everybody looking forward to this years' hunt, and everybody else having cabin fever I thought it might be a good time for some elk huntin stories.
I'm usually not one of those guys that gushes about what a great hunt they had even though no animals were harmed, but, that's exactly what happened. I had 5 bulls within 20 yards, 2 of em at about 12 feet! I actually think I'm a little grayer because of it!
I wanted to try hunting a bit later this year so Wifie and I drove out the weekend after labor day, spent Sunday night with my good friend John and family in Craig, CO. Then headed North for Jackson. Hit a little rain before we got to town, which ended up being the most precipitation we would see for the next 3 weeks. Did have the bulls turned on though, we saw 2 that first evening just goin and coming from town to our campsite.
Here's a pic of base camp. Cabelas Bighorn tent, affectionatley referred to as "Big Ugly", (that thing sags in all the wrong places.)
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0310_1269.jpg)
Spent the first couple days acclimating, visiting with our son Jim, and setting up a spike camp up on No Name. I wanted to get as high as I could and still have water, conditions were really hot and dry. But I found a spot, kinda ugly, but up there.Moo cow water hole.Complete with moose antler camp seat.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0323_1282.jpg)
Found it just a hundred yards from camp.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0292_1251.jpg)
My camp misplaced one of the locals.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0295_1254.jpg)
A little closer.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0296_1255.jpg)
Camp is down there by those quakies. Hot dry and smoky with the constant drone/hum/chop of helicopters fighting fire, not the best conditions for elk hunting.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0319_1278.jpg)
First evening out I ran into a small herd just over the ridge from camp, heard a bull, but never saw him. This might be good. Next morning I was out and glassing and found some about 9:00. From one angle the bull looked good, then he would turn and look weak, I finally realized he had really long lower points and virtually nothing on top. I went looking for more, down in the drainage where we saw the big one on our last day the year before. Nothing. Took a nap and woke up to this.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0305_1264-1.jpg)
I'll finish the stories later
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I'm tuned in! This would be my absolute dream hunt. I am insanely jealous!
:coffee:
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You have the gift, more stories, plz
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Couple more pics from spike camp.
Here's one of a beefer that didn't make fall roundup.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0293_1252.jpg)
This is my "Moo Poo Water" collector. I would boil it for 5 minutes then nuke it with the Steri-pen, never got sick, but it did have a little "flavor" if you know what I mean.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0328_1287.jpg)
This what the water hole looked like.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0325_1284.jpg)
I don't think I'm going to go the spike camp routine this year. At least not up high, man, does it suck walking a couple miles up hill to that!
Anyhow, the next couple weeks of the hunt are a blurry memory of tiredness, aching muscles, heat, dust, sweat, SUNBURN,(unbelievable) and elk. I loved every minute of it. Didn't see a lot of cows, and hardly anything was spotted in the early mornings. It seemed like the bulls were just kinda hangin in their timbered hidey-holes. I can't remember the song, but their's a line in it about going "Into the hall of the Mountain King", that would pop into my head every time I found one.
I will return in a bit with some action.
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Moments after snapping this pic the Kid spotted a bull feeding on the open hillside to the right.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0337_1296.jpg)
He sent out a bugle, the bull hit him immediately and started coming our way, the hunt was on! The bull wasn't something I wanted to shoot and although Jim has rifleshot 3 impressive bulls he hasn't been able to affixe his tag to a bowkilled one.
We bailed over the edge and half-slid our way down to a stand of aspens. Perfect situation, wind was right, stupidish younger bull coming in like he's on string, shooter 50 yards in front of the caller, and after he takes an arrow to the lungs he'll run right towards base camp at the bottom of the draw.
Every time I bugle he answers closer, suddenly I see the Kid rise up a bit and start to put tension on the string. Here we go. Then he relaxes and starts to position to the right, bull's obviously not following the script.
Then I notice that another bull that had joined in the chorus earlier from down in the timber was getting closer. I start glassing for him. There he is. Big Bull. And he's coming right up the draw where I'm sitting, totally exposed, sticking out like a sore thumb. I figured the small bull had spooked and exited on the side hill, so I stood up to walk down to Jim so we could make a new plan. 3 steps later little bull blows out, you gotta be kiddin me! He was right there the whole time. If I had just been more patient. Dang! And, looking back at it later we figured the big bull probably wouldn't have seen me anyway. Stupid move Dad.
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I encountered one bull on three different occasions.First time was early on in the hunt, maybe even thee first day. I was moving down the ridge and was getting to a spot where we've been into elk on a couple different forays. On this particular morning I was walking slow, glassing, and throwing out some cow calls when I got hit back with a bugle from down in the bottom, maybe 300 yards away. Nocked up an arrow and called back. He was on the move in my general direction, but instead of coming straight at me he was going right up the bottom, straight towards my scent stream. Yanked the arrow, and took off on a trot to try and get ahead of him, but a couple minutes later I heard a clamor on the opposite hillside and out busted a real nice bull. Oh well.
Couple days later Me and the Boy were up on the ridge that aforementioned bull ran to, happens to be the Kid's favorite glassing spot, when we got a bugle response from the dark timber back on the side where this segment started. So, onward and upward we trudged to get above and downwind of him. We had to cross the ravine bottom to get on his side so the Kid chose where my bull from the year before had died.
(http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z304/Owlgrowler/DSCF0311_1270.jpg)
As soon as we got to his side we went into stealth mode, stillhunting with some soft cow calls thrown in. Nothing. Never heard him or saw him. Oh well.
A week or so later I was there again, same spot as the first day and he bugled back to one of my calls. Only this time instead of being in the bottom he was in his dark timber sidehill hole already. But this time I was on his side, almost the same elevation. I got aggressive ,(more on this tactic later), I ran right at him, cutting off his bugles and making a racket. Man did that piss him off. Then I came to a small park about 40 yards across and couldn't get any closer because I could hear him just inside the timber on the other side breaking stuff and screaming and hollerin and grunting. Seconds later he pops out, beauty of a 6 pointer with one of those real dark chocolate racks with white tips. Gorgeous. 40 yards and not a twig between us. I wanted something closer, and even though he was so mad he was stomping his feet in frustration, he wasn't stupid. When he didn't see another bull after about a minute, he just turned around and went back in. Oh well.
I probably had 4 encounters with this bull. Late in the I hunt I decided to get down to that spot in the dark and take a stand for him.When I got there I laid down my bow and pack to wait for first light when all of a sudden I hear a hoofed animal running right to me, like 20 yards, it's so dark I can't see what it is, he sees me or winds me and down the ridge he goes a crashin. Crazy. And I never did see or hear him that day. If he made it through rifle... I would love to notch my tag on him this year.