It was one of those mornings you dream of all year long. The one where the canyons and valleys are filled with the echoes of what the Indians named wapiti. It was September 21st and the rut was in full swing. Just one ridge over from me I heard a large bull screaming. Other bulls would add to the chorus looking to join the local symphony. I sat tight for a few minutes to see if the bull would come my way. I kept quite for now. In days past the bulls had been more interested in procuring their herom than coming in to a fight or to pick up a lone cow. I soon saw the large bull file below with 10 cows and a smaller 6 point. I watched them as they made their way to their day time hide out. This bull continued to be the most vocal of the bulls but I watched probably 5 others bulls join in the bugling affair and move over distant ridges and canyons. After a couple hours of watching and bugling, I set my sights on the bull that had been leading the orchestra.
The bull had bedded a couple of miles from me. I began making my way that direction. I had found a spike antler on the way and about 10 yards away a 5 point antler. I picked it up and planned on possibly using it as a decoy to bring in the bull if needed. I was coming from below following some foliage and a spring. The wind was acting a little funny with some swirls, but for the most part it was in my favor. as I approached with in 70 yards I saw a tree moving back and forth as it was being scraped. I then heard the larger bull about 30 yards from the smaller one. I soon came to with in 50 yards. A cow started to file through the brush and up the ridge. The large 6x6 bull followed with his cows. They most likely winded me but a cow could have possibly seen me. I thought I still had a chance at the bull scraping the tree but he soon vanished as well.
While this stock did not turn out as planned, it is what elk hunting is all about. I am usually out before dawn till dusk and this day would be no exception. I move up on a ridge and decided to move to a hang out where I had seen bulls frequently in the past. On my way to this spot I had glassed a brush pocket I had seen a bull and cows the previous week. I had in fact glassed the pocket several times and bugled but it wasn't until I had gained the right angle I could see this large bull bedded down. He was facing away from me and was unaware. I ranged him in at only 280 yards. I took some video, looked at him through my spotting scope and took some scope pictures. I realized he was probably the biggest bull I had seen this year. The hill side was barren and the stalk would be difficult. The spot I was headed to was only about one half mile away so I decided to check out this other canyon for possibly an even larger bull and then plan out a stalk.
After arriving at the canyon I spotted a cow. I soon heard a bugle. I made my way down to the brush pocket the bull was hanging out with his cows. At 120 yards I watched the bull and cows. Although a nice 6 point, I knew the other one was bigger. I decided to use this bull as a back up just in case things did not materialize. You know its a great day of hunting when you have a back up bull.
I made my way back up the canyon wall to my previous vantage point. The large bull had changed positions in his bed and was now facing in my direction. I no longer had the luxury of stalking a bull looking the other direction. However I could not find any cows with the bull. This perplexed me as it was the middle of the rut. I spent a good 45 minutes just determining how I wanted to stalk this bull. A barren hillside with no cover. I could stalk him from below the drainage and move up but he wind would go right to him. After the last stalk I decided the wind direction was paramount. I would use a dead tree about 20 yards from the bull and keep it between the bull and I. the bulls large rack made it easy to see if his head position would change. With the dead tree acting as my shield I would start the approach. I would use a few bushes to put in between us while they would stay in alignment. With bow in tote in one hand and tripod and video camera in another I slowly closed the distance. At 120 yards I let go of the backpack and took off my loud boots and traded for a 2nd pair or socks. I slowly moved to within 50 yards and set up the camera and prepared myself for a bull catching some swirling wind and ready to move out. After a few minutes I decided to close in another 18 yards. I was shaking so bad I didn't know if I could pull the bow back. I got with in what my range finder said 38 yards and settled in. I just waited for the bull to stand so I could place a shot. After about 45 minutes my shaking started to calm down and I decided to try a cow call to get the bull to stand. I got a few bugles from the bull at this close range which sent shivers through my spine. He finally stood up to check things out. I sent an arrow spinning through the air which connected with the massive bull. I was nervous as the arrow struck higher than I had anticipated. My fears calmed as the bull crashed to the ground 30 yards from where he was hit. I realized while trying to range his antlers out of the brush I had ranged some bushes about 10 yards behind him, making it closer to a 30 yard shot. What an incredible rush to be this close to these incredible animals.
I gave thanks to my Father in Heaven for the opportunity to enjoy this rugged land with these awesome animals and to connect on a great bull. After retrieving my backpack and boots up the hill, I then gave the bull a few more minutes to make sure he was expired. The excitement mounted as I approached the massive bull. What a thrill. I took several pictures with a self timer and began deboning the bull for the long, long pack out. While cutting the head off at the base of the skull I found a peculiar looking object embedded in the neck. My first thoughts were, how did a turd get up in the neck? The object turned out to be a bullet that a hunter had at one time fired at him. the bullet was in perfect form with no mushrooming. I had wondered if this was a reason why he did not have cows with him. Maybe it affected the brain and he did not go into rut.
I was soon ready for the arduous chore of packing a huge elk out of the back country by myself. I had shot the bull at 3:30 and finished de-boning him at 5:30 pm. I sea-sawed back and forth, every 100-200 yards with the back breaking loads. I was determined to get the bull back to the 4-wheeler. I knew it was going to be warm the next day. I was not able to make it back the next day due to work. I knew the meat and hide could spoil. At about 1:00 am I was starting to get close to the 4 wheeler. At this point either sheer exhaustion or the water I had put grapefruit extract in to kill the bugs had gotten to me. I couldn't move. I could only curl up in a ball and wonder if I could make it through the night or if this was the end for me. Soon I began to feel even more miserable. I was so close, just one more hill to ascend yet my will was paralyzed. After lying there for about 20 minutes I began emptying my insides several times. This gave me the energy to move on. Repeating this action a few more times I was able to get the elk back to the 4 wheeeler. I deliriously drove the animal back the 10 miles, keeping most of the weight on the front to keep the machine to keep from tipping back going up hills. I arrived at the truck at 3:00 am. Not being entirely cognizant I began backing the 4 wheeler in the truck. The incline began to be more steep. Pretty soon I was perpendicular to the ground. Soon the angle began to be acute. I lunged from the 4 wheeler, sending me beyond the ramps. Fortunately I had a helmet on protecting my head from the impact. The 4 wheeler came tumbling down the ramps ending upside down all of the weight on the antlers. I was just happy I was not under those poky objects. I analyzed the antlers, relieved they were not broken. I unloosed the elk load and tipped the 4 wheeler upright. I had planned on sleeping a few hours in the truck, but after this adrenalin rush I was ready to make the drive home.
Now I make no claim to this misery as bad as child labor, however anything that requires so much sacrifice and work bears the experience a little bit more special. Just as with child labor the experience creates a bond with Mother and Child, so it is with anything that requires sacrifice and pain, it is appreciated that much more. Maybe that is why us hunters sets out each year to push ourselves to the limit, to push ourselves into pain and puishment. The reward is always greater than the sacrifice. This is what defines elk hunting.
The Bull officially scored 349 2/8 Gross, 336 Net
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