treedagain
Well-known member
- Joined
- Dec 9, 2011
- Messages
- 536
Nice bull bluff, 
Anybody want to hear this story?
- Thread starter Bluffgruff
- Start date
Bluffgruff
Well-known member
On my way back along the half circle, I take in the views,
and use a slightly lower route, looking for tracks.
I find very fresh droppings and a sharply edged track in the dirt.
This has to be that bull, and he's headed into an endless juniper blanket.
No sense in busting him out without seeing him, so I return to my high line and walk the 3-4 miles back to camp. If I drive about 10 minutes, there's a spot I might be able to see into the thicket. The road is not great, and I arrive just before sunset. The bull doesn't show, but the sunset delivers, as usual.
I'm pretty exhausted, as it turns out, so as the truck count going by my camp exceeds 25 the next morning, I decide to rest up. I glass from camp briefly, but it's also ridiculously cold. Even in my down jacket, insulated pants, beanie, ski gloves, 0 degree sleeping bag, inside the tent, with the heater going, I'm still cold. Probably combination of exhaustion, temp, and wind. I decide to give myself some slack and leisurely eat breakfast and drink a full liter of coffee in the tent.
For the middle of the day and afternoon, I settle on going to re-explore the area the 7x7 was at the end of the last trip, but just before the parking area, I meet up with about 12 families doing their annual Christmas Tree hunt, pretty much exactly where I am heading. I chat with one of the nice ladies holding a ⅕ of Fireball and a toddler for a good while. I'm all about a Christmas Tree hunt, so I wish them well and change my plans, back to a ridge the opposite direction. Lots of deer around. Lovely view as well.
Just before sunset, a big herd of elk washes out of some trees into the open, on public land, just over three miles away. Biggest bull I can see is a small 5x5.
I make note of their location, only an idiot would walk over there, but they exist.
Walking out, I find what looks like bounding lion tracks in the snow. With all the deer around, I can understand their affinity for the area.
Time to head back to camp. It's supposed to snow a little overnight.
The next morning, I'm expecting the barrage of trucks to rocket down the road by 5am, so I'm just about parked by then. I'm the only truck at the parking lot, even when I start walking a few minutes later,a fresh skiff of snow covering the ground. Tracking conditions are perfect, if I can just cut one.
Just after sunrise,
I do cut a track.
This is the first fresh track of the day, diving off into the pines that the 7x7 had bedded in a couple weeks earlier. There are several other sets of tracks, all covered in snow, crossing back and forth through the same area. This is a big bull's lair.
I circle around to see if I can glass into the pines from the far side of the canyon, but it's too thick. Right as I'm moving on, one grouse, then another erupts from some bushy junipers into a pine tree. If it werent for the bull just 300 yards away, I'd be eating grouse tonight.
For the trackers out there, I give you "blue grouse."
I end up seeing 4 bulls headed my way, a long way off, but I don't see a shooter, so I loop back downwind of the fresh tracks, get out of the wind, and attempt to stay warm, and thaw my water.
The huge herds from 2 weeks ago have grown and coalesced into more than 1000 animals, now about 3.5 miles away. The best bull is a decent 6x6.
I wait until dark, ready to kill the bull that has habitually crossed this saddle from dark timber to south slope with water and green grass on several occasions,
But he stands me up. The perfect set up just isn't meant to be. I drop down the canyon wall in the dark, then several more miles back to the truck, and back to camp. I choose to have a town dinner, which is a good pick me up, but the "road is closed" when I turn off on my return, due to wind. The gate is up, and I'm not quite sure I can read, so I carefully drive back to camp. It is windy, and cold, both enough to keep me awake until almost midnight. As I'm drifting off, I hear a noise, and the hair stands up on the back of my neck. It's higher frequency, but the same type of sound as the grizzly sow and 3 cubs in Alaska last year. I open my eyes and mouth at the same time to yell "get out of here!" at what I hope is a coyote. I think I hear it running off in the night, then back by a few minutes later, then all is calm, and I pass out.
The next day, getting up is impossible, so I sleep. And sleep. And when I finally will myself to do anything, it's 10am.
Apparently, when one busts their butt for 12 hours and 8-12 miles in the snow, it's hard to get up and going the next day.
After noon, I decide I'm going after the herd from 2 evenings before. Its 4 miles from me, and I'm getting a late start. This is where the folks with private access really pissed on my hey dudes a few days before, but there are no roads on public, and the landowner at the back is different, also it's Monday.
I give it everything I've got, and 4 miles later, I'm on fresh elk tracks. The wind isn't great to approach that herds bedding area, but I'm hemmed in by an outside corner of private that I have to round before I can get closer. I make it around at 4pm, and a cow pops up down wind a couple hundred yards. She moves off, trailed by a few other elk I can see. I drop my pack to get my rifle, leaving my pack (idiot!) and then follow at a jog in the quiet new snow through some sparse pines, rocks, and hills. 250 yards later, I can see she has paused, sniffing the air, but now she isn't anywhere near downwind of me anymore. Her herd has joined her, all 170+ elk.
I creep to the hill by a large mountain big sagebrush, and start scanning the herd. There are dozens and dozens of cows, calves, and spikes, but only 7 branch antlered bulls. I find a few small 5x5s. I scan again. Then again. I then look at every elk individually. At 175 yards, I could kill any of these elk, but I just can't pull the trigger on a 3.5 year old 5x5. It would cheapen the experience for me. I debate if I could shoot a cow, but I don't want that either, though the meat would be excellent. I backtrack to my pack, as the herd barks warnings over my shoulder. I scan everything I can see as the sun sets,
and in the falling light, I see another big herd of elk 3 more miles away. Several hundred yards off to the side of the cows are 2 bright yellow bodies. Those have to be bulls.
I can't get pictures of the animals, but I get a picture of the terrain in case they become plan G.
and use a slightly lower route, looking for tracks.
I find very fresh droppings and a sharply edged track in the dirt.
This has to be that bull, and he's headed into an endless juniper blanket.
No sense in busting him out without seeing him, so I return to my high line and walk the 3-4 miles back to camp. If I drive about 10 minutes, there's a spot I might be able to see into the thicket. The road is not great, and I arrive just before sunset. The bull doesn't show, but the sunset delivers, as usual.
I'm pretty exhausted, as it turns out, so as the truck count going by my camp exceeds 25 the next morning, I decide to rest up. I glass from camp briefly, but it's also ridiculously cold. Even in my down jacket, insulated pants, beanie, ski gloves, 0 degree sleeping bag, inside the tent, with the heater going, I'm still cold. Probably combination of exhaustion, temp, and wind. I decide to give myself some slack and leisurely eat breakfast and drink a full liter of coffee in the tent.
For the middle of the day and afternoon, I settle on going to re-explore the area the 7x7 was at the end of the last trip, but just before the parking area, I meet up with about 12 families doing their annual Christmas Tree hunt, pretty much exactly where I am heading. I chat with one of the nice ladies holding a ⅕ of Fireball and a toddler for a good while. I'm all about a Christmas Tree hunt, so I wish them well and change my plans, back to a ridge the opposite direction. Lots of deer around. Lovely view as well.
Just before sunset, a big herd of elk washes out of some trees into the open, on public land, just over three miles away. Biggest bull I can see is a small 5x5.
I make note of their location, only an idiot would walk over there, but they exist.
Walking out, I find what looks like bounding lion tracks in the snow. With all the deer around, I can understand their affinity for the area.
Time to head back to camp. It's supposed to snow a little overnight.
The next morning, I'm expecting the barrage of trucks to rocket down the road by 5am, so I'm just about parked by then. I'm the only truck at the parking lot, even when I start walking a few minutes later,a fresh skiff of snow covering the ground. Tracking conditions are perfect, if I can just cut one.
Just after sunrise,
I do cut a track.
This is the first fresh track of the day, diving off into the pines that the 7x7 had bedded in a couple weeks earlier. There are several other sets of tracks, all covered in snow, crossing back and forth through the same area. This is a big bull's lair.
I circle around to see if I can glass into the pines from the far side of the canyon, but it's too thick. Right as I'm moving on, one grouse, then another erupts from some bushy junipers into a pine tree. If it werent for the bull just 300 yards away, I'd be eating grouse tonight.
For the trackers out there, I give you "blue grouse."
I end up seeing 4 bulls headed my way, a long way off, but I don't see a shooter, so I loop back downwind of the fresh tracks, get out of the wind, and attempt to stay warm, and thaw my water.
The huge herds from 2 weeks ago have grown and coalesced into more than 1000 animals, now about 3.5 miles away. The best bull is a decent 6x6.
I wait until dark, ready to kill the bull that has habitually crossed this saddle from dark timber to south slope with water and green grass on several occasions,
But he stands me up. The perfect set up just isn't meant to be. I drop down the canyon wall in the dark, then several more miles back to the truck, and back to camp. I choose to have a town dinner, which is a good pick me up, but the "road is closed" when I turn off on my return, due to wind. The gate is up, and I'm not quite sure I can read, so I carefully drive back to camp. It is windy, and cold, both enough to keep me awake until almost midnight. As I'm drifting off, I hear a noise, and the hair stands up on the back of my neck. It's higher frequency, but the same type of sound as the grizzly sow and 3 cubs in Alaska last year. I open my eyes and mouth at the same time to yell "get out of here!" at what I hope is a coyote. I think I hear it running off in the night, then back by a few minutes later, then all is calm, and I pass out.
The next day, getting up is impossible, so I sleep. And sleep. And when I finally will myself to do anything, it's 10am.
Apparently, when one busts their butt for 12 hours and 8-12 miles in the snow, it's hard to get up and going the next day.
After noon, I decide I'm going after the herd from 2 evenings before. Its 4 miles from me, and I'm getting a late start. This is where the folks with private access really pissed on my hey dudes a few days before, but there are no roads on public, and the landowner at the back is different, also it's Monday.
I give it everything I've got, and 4 miles later, I'm on fresh elk tracks. The wind isn't great to approach that herds bedding area, but I'm hemmed in by an outside corner of private that I have to round before I can get closer. I make it around at 4pm, and a cow pops up down wind a couple hundred yards. She moves off, trailed by a few other elk I can see. I drop my pack to get my rifle, leaving my pack (idiot!) and then follow at a jog in the quiet new snow through some sparse pines, rocks, and hills. 250 yards later, I can see she has paused, sniffing the air, but now she isn't anywhere near downwind of me anymore. Her herd has joined her, all 170+ elk.
I creep to the hill by a large mountain big sagebrush, and start scanning the herd. There are dozens and dozens of cows, calves, and spikes, but only 7 branch antlered bulls. I find a few small 5x5s. I scan again. Then again. I then look at every elk individually. At 175 yards, I could kill any of these elk, but I just can't pull the trigger on a 3.5 year old 5x5. It would cheapen the experience for me. I debate if I could shoot a cow, but I don't want that either, though the meat would be excellent. I backtrack to my pack, as the herd barks warnings over my shoulder. I scan everything I can see as the sun sets,
and in the falling light, I see another big herd of elk 3 more miles away. Several hundred yards off to the side of the cows are 2 bright yellow bodies. Those have to be bulls.
I can't get pictures of the animals, but I get a picture of the terrain in case they become plan G.
Last edited:
Bluffgruff
Well-known member
Persistence Rewarded
That night, I formulate a plan, Plan G. Maybe H. I don't even know. I've been hunting a week this trip. I'm exhausted already, but I have 5 more days on the schedule.
I'm going to wake up and glass from the tent for the bull from last week. If he shows, I'm going after him. If he doesn't, I'm going after the herd from the evening before, which would require an hour's drive to even start the hike.
Sunrise is very nice, again.
I glass for an hour.
I'm getting discouraged.
"This bull isn't even in sight from here," I think out loud, as I chug my 15x56s through the lowest of junipers.
It's after sunrise.
It's 5 minutes until I pull the plug and go after that far herd from yesterday.
I glimpse a tiny bit of yellow and almost spit my coffee.
It's him.
Not 500 yards from where I saw him first 6 mornings ago, he's easing through the junipers.
Sneaky bastard.
I get the spotter on him, and follow him with my eyes like a hawk watching a rabbit.
He disappears, and I burn that spot into my retina.
I'm pretty sure I see him "kaplunk" into his bed, but I take no chances. The sun is on that area for a good half hour, and he hasn't budged from this block of junipers.
It's time to move.
I pack my bag and shoulder my rifle and start the 2-3 mile stalk. I carry well around to the east to get the best wind, and remind myself over and over to take my time, that a few minutes to avoid a rolling rock, or, a loud snow footfall, or a juniper sweeping over my pack, is worth it. As I close down from 600 yards to 400, I'm trying to find the dead tree and the tall yellow grass. Peaking over the ridge, I find the spot, but I can't see the bull.
He's here, somewhere.
I get to 250 yards and stop to eat my lunch, ready to shoot with my rifle over my pack. He doesn't show, so I decide to slowly ooze forward, ready to cover all escape routes. My pack is heavy, or I'm exhausted, or nervous, and I stop to rest, and I see white branches moving. I know what it is. It's antlers. I drop to the ground and chamber a round, resting on my pack. For several minutes, the antlers move back and forth, but don't get any closer to an opening.
When the antlers drop out of sight, I move a few more yards to get a juniper behind me, nothing in the way, and get comfy. He's there, I'm here, and he's not leaving. Noooo sir. 210 yards.
I am texting back and forth with a friend this whole time. He sent me an updated drop chart based on conditions, some calming and leveling advice. I'm freehanding my binos between texts a few minutes later, and antlers start working left into a small gap, then a head, and a neck...
WHAT ARE YOU DOING GET ON THE RIFLE!
The bull pulls into the opening, front half of his body showing from behind the junipers, and he swings his nose to me. I squeeze the trigger, and squeeze. Is the safety on? Nope. I have no idea wtf. Back with the crosshairs on him, things are moving more than I'd like, but he's close, I squeeze again, and his back end drops as I lose him momentarily in the recoil.
Deer explode from the junipers between 25 and 50 yards in front of me. Not quite as surprising as the grouse, but I realize I just put one hell of a sneak on one bull elk and about 25 mulies.
I rechamber and cover the area for 3 or 4 minutes. Nothing moves after the deer clear out. I cross the canyon I didn't realize was in front of me, then move up the other side. It's just after 1pm, and day 9 of hunting, day 12 if you count scouting days.
I got "him."
An old bull. A smart bull. A pretty big bull. I'm damn proud of this one.
Without grizzlies or brown bears to worry about, I take my sweet time cutting this one up. I take everything but the flanks. I'm going to pull those off the next critter I kill, though. I end up putting it all in this tree to keep the coyotes off it.
It's late when I get done. After sunset, though I stop to take a picture before it passes.
I wind things up around 630pm, out of water, somehow. A good friend offers to meet me to pack out in the morning, and I gladly accept. This is going to be 5 trips of 5-6 miles.
The next day, I drag myself out, but not early, I get back to the kill site just before 10, pull the meat from the tree and put it in the shade on the ground. Load one is a ham and some rib meat.
My friend makes it early, despite waking up with a fever, and is sitting in my folding chair watching me as I crest the ridge on the way back to camp.
We power down some amazing green chili covered burritos, fill up the water, and get moving. Packing an elk is way better with company.
We haul ass over to get the next load, a ham in one pack and 2 shoulders in the other.
At camp, a gatorade and more water and we go again. I'm feeling a touch guilty, pushing my buddy with him feeling poorly, but he doesn't hesitate when I asked him if he has another trip in him.
We get loaded up again and start going at sunset.
Headlamps on, this really is the last sunset.
My buddy heads home, and I head to this beer.
Somewhere between 15 and 18 miles today, 10-12 for my friend...
... I feel like we earned it.
Camp gets packed up the next day and I head home. Dry aging temps are perfect for the next week. I give away one whole ham, and butcher the rest at a leisurely pace. It's tip top quality elk meat, and the kind of adventure I would like to repeat.
Cheers, Kyle!
That night, I formulate a plan, Plan G. Maybe H. I don't even know. I've been hunting a week this trip. I'm exhausted already, but I have 5 more days on the schedule.
I'm going to wake up and glass from the tent for the bull from last week. If he shows, I'm going after him. If he doesn't, I'm going after the herd from the evening before, which would require an hour's drive to even start the hike.
Sunrise is very nice, again.
I glass for an hour.
I'm getting discouraged.
"This bull isn't even in sight from here," I think out loud, as I chug my 15x56s through the lowest of junipers.
It's after sunrise.
It's 5 minutes until I pull the plug and go after that far herd from yesterday.
I glimpse a tiny bit of yellow and almost spit my coffee.
It's him.
Not 500 yards from where I saw him first 6 mornings ago, he's easing through the junipers.
Sneaky bastard.
I get the spotter on him, and follow him with my eyes like a hawk watching a rabbit.
He disappears, and I burn that spot into my retina.
I'm pretty sure I see him "kaplunk" into his bed, but I take no chances. The sun is on that area for a good half hour, and he hasn't budged from this block of junipers.
It's time to move.
I pack my bag and shoulder my rifle and start the 2-3 mile stalk. I carry well around to the east to get the best wind, and remind myself over and over to take my time, that a few minutes to avoid a rolling rock, or, a loud snow footfall, or a juniper sweeping over my pack, is worth it. As I close down from 600 yards to 400, I'm trying to find the dead tree and the tall yellow grass. Peaking over the ridge, I find the spot, but I can't see the bull.
He's here, somewhere.
I get to 250 yards and stop to eat my lunch, ready to shoot with my rifle over my pack. He doesn't show, so I decide to slowly ooze forward, ready to cover all escape routes. My pack is heavy, or I'm exhausted, or nervous, and I stop to rest, and I see white branches moving. I know what it is. It's antlers. I drop to the ground and chamber a round, resting on my pack. For several minutes, the antlers move back and forth, but don't get any closer to an opening.
When the antlers drop out of sight, I move a few more yards to get a juniper behind me, nothing in the way, and get comfy. He's there, I'm here, and he's not leaving. Noooo sir. 210 yards.
I am texting back and forth with a friend this whole time. He sent me an updated drop chart based on conditions, some calming and leveling advice. I'm freehanding my binos between texts a few minutes later, and antlers start working left into a small gap, then a head, and a neck...
WHAT ARE YOU DOING GET ON THE RIFLE!
The bull pulls into the opening, front half of his body showing from behind the junipers, and he swings his nose to me. I squeeze the trigger, and squeeze. Is the safety on? Nope. I have no idea wtf. Back with the crosshairs on him, things are moving more than I'd like, but he's close, I squeeze again, and his back end drops as I lose him momentarily in the recoil.
Deer explode from the junipers between 25 and 50 yards in front of me. Not quite as surprising as the grouse, but I realize I just put one hell of a sneak on one bull elk and about 25 mulies.
I rechamber and cover the area for 3 or 4 minutes. Nothing moves after the deer clear out. I cross the canyon I didn't realize was in front of me, then move up the other side. It's just after 1pm, and day 9 of hunting, day 12 if you count scouting days.
I got "him."
An old bull. A smart bull. A pretty big bull. I'm damn proud of this one.
Without grizzlies or brown bears to worry about, I take my sweet time cutting this one up. I take everything but the flanks. I'm going to pull those off the next critter I kill, though. I end up putting it all in this tree to keep the coyotes off it.
It's late when I get done. After sunset, though I stop to take a picture before it passes.
I wind things up around 630pm, out of water, somehow. A good friend offers to meet me to pack out in the morning, and I gladly accept. This is going to be 5 trips of 5-6 miles.
The next day, I drag myself out, but not early, I get back to the kill site just before 10, pull the meat from the tree and put it in the shade on the ground. Load one is a ham and some rib meat.
My friend makes it early, despite waking up with a fever, and is sitting in my folding chair watching me as I crest the ridge on the way back to camp.
We power down some amazing green chili covered burritos, fill up the water, and get moving. Packing an elk is way better with company.
We haul ass over to get the next load, a ham in one pack and 2 shoulders in the other.
At camp, a gatorade and more water and we go again. I'm feeling a touch guilty, pushing my buddy with him feeling poorly, but he doesn't hesitate when I asked him if he has another trip in him.
We get loaded up again and start going at sunset.
Headlamps on, this really is the last sunset.
My buddy heads home, and I head to this beer.
Somewhere between 15 and 18 miles today, 10-12 for my friend...
... I feel like we earned it.
Camp gets packed up the next day and I head home. Dry aging temps are perfect for the next week. I give away one whole ham, and butcher the rest at a leisurely pace. It's tip top quality elk meat, and the kind of adventure I would like to repeat.
Cheers, Kyle!
Last edited:
Bluffgruff
Well-known member
MTLabrador
Well-known member
That’s some very cool, very cold, very windy country. Awesome hunt and a great bull, congrats!
BAKPAKR
Well-known member
Thanks for sharing another great hunt. Congrats!
Pahoundsman
Well-known member
That’s a great bull taken the way he should have been. You hunted hard and earned him and your recap was great,congratulations on your success.
Nick87
Well-known member
Congrats, great story.
Raisin Bran
Well-known member
Best write up I have read! Your patience and persistence along with strategy are what make the difference between a hunter versus a true Elk hunter. Thanks for bringing us a long!
marksjeep
Well-known member
Congrats on your success! Excellent hunt, write up, pics, and bull! Thanks for posting it all up.
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas
CRJR45
Well-known member
Who Da Man ? You Da MAN ! Great stuff !
noharleyyet
Well-known member
Now that’s a story… and a bull!
D
Deleted member 52098
Guest
Love the story; A dandy of a bull 
seeth07
Well-known member
Congrats, way to give it all and glad you got rewarded
Valley1320
Well-known member
Congrats! Great bull!
Walkathon
Well-known member
Great write up and a great bull! Thanks for sharing with us.
mxracer317
Well-known member
- Joined
- Nov 20, 2020
- Messages
- 1,178
Thought I hit yes? Apparently, not?! What an amazing story! Nicely done @Bluffgruff
