sn.outdoors
Well-known member
Day 1
After a poor night of sleep, we were up and ready to go far earlier than we needed to be. The tent was thick with excitement. I savoured the warmth of my morning coffee and crushed a packet of ramen. The herd quit bugling around 3am, but we assumed they hadn’t traveled too far.
The wind was good, and the rain was supposed to hold off until midday. We walked a few hundred yards and I let out a bugle to locate the herd…. They weren’t far. Maybe 150yds. I bugled 2 or 3 times and did some cow calls. 4 different bulls responded.
The spot was fairly thick, but we didn’t really have much of a choice. We did our best to cut downwind, but only made it a few yards before the first bull appeared to our right, the down wind side. He trotted to about 50yds away, saw us, and turned around. I bugled at him and aggressively raked some trees. A different bull bugled to our left and ran toward us. I signalled to Alan to find a lane and get ready while I setup 40 yards behind Alan. I cow called twice and broke a few branches. He bugled, moved a few yards closer, stopped, and bugled again.
He wasn’t in a clear lane for Alan, so I mewed quietly and broke a few branches to keep the bull's attention on me. The bull bugled, moved to the right a few yards and out of my sight…
THWACK!!!
Alan sent an arrow and the bull took off in the direction he came from. I bugled a few times and Alan have me a thumbs up with a giant grin on his face. The other bulls kept bugling. I looked at my watch…. We were only 25 minutes into the season.
I walked up to Alan and asked about the shot. He felt it was good, but he didn't see the arrow impact and couldn't tell for sure. I was concerned since the bull was slowly walking when he took the shot. I was hoping for the best.
We waited 30 minutes before checking the impact site.
As we were waiting, an elk randomly appeared where we last saw the bull Alan shot. It was a bull. Other than being a bull we couldn't see enough detail through the thick brush to tell if it was a different elk or Alan's bull. I lightly mewed at it, and it slowly walked away.
I didn't get a warm fuzzy from seeing that bull walk away from us the way he did. Something just didn't feel right.
After the 30 minutes passed, we examined the impact area and found some blood, but not enough to make me think it was a slam dunk. We followed it for about 60yds and found a small puddle in a meadow where it looked like he stood still for a moment.
We only found a few drops after that. So we decided to sit, eat lunch, and give him a few hours. Unfortunately, the forecast called for several days of nearly constant rain. My hopes of finding him were not very high. I didn't know what kind of hit it was, but I knew it wasn't a perfect double lung or heart shot and the evidence was less than encouraging.
We thoroughly searched a 400 yard grid before we decided to just walk in the direction we watched the random elk walk. The herd was still bugling off and on. We assumed the wounded bull would try to keep up with the herd if possible. So we cautiously walked their direction.
As luck would have it, just under a mile away from the shot, I spotted a bull standing in the bottom of a thick drainage. He was less than 100 yards away, but I couldn't get a clear look at him. It was 1 o'clock at this point, roughly 6hrs after the shot.
The rest of the herd was further down the mountain, and still bugling regularly. As the bull turned toward the bugles my heart sank. It was Alan's bull. He was hit really low, but left and right was decent. We needed to get another arrow in him, but the vegetation was just too thick to get it done before he walked off toward the rest of the elk. Alan made a quick move to see if he could close the distance and get another arrow in him, but the bull was gone.
Watching that bull walk away into the rain and fog was one of the toughest moments I've ever spent in the woods. The call setup was perfect, the bull was mature and came well into range. There was no way to turn back time to redo the shot. It was everything you dream about in the off season. Despite the discouraging evidence, there was still a chance we'd find him.
We gave him another hour. The spot the bull had been standing over had a handful of blood droplets, but nothing encouraging. We followed his track for another 300 yards, but found zero blood and no elk. The bugles from the rest of the elk were getting further and further away. I looked at Alan and his face was wrought with disappointment. I tried my best to stay positive, but the situation was what it was.
Unfortunately, in all my time hunting I've seen a lot of wounded animals, and from what I saw on that bull, I didn't think he was going to die. He didn't seem sluggish, and he never bedded down. The wound was extremely low, and if he was hit in a lung I would have expected a little more blood and different behavior. The bull looked fine. Having been on countless blood trails, I know ANYTHING can happen, but this one didn't look like it would have a happy ending. We decided to climb the mountain, give the herd some space, and we'd come back in the morning.
We walked up the mountain to the spot I'd seen the nice bull two days earlier. We heard bugles in that direction in the morning and figured it would be worth a shot for an afternoon setup. The wind was consistent and the rain and fog got a little bit thicker by the time we got to the peak. It was almost prime time.
I let out a soft bugle and a couple cow calls. And just like you see on TV, we got a few responses. They weren't very far, so we moved in for a closer look. We made it maybe 20 yards and spotted the first few elk feeding up the mountain. One of em was a small raghorn about 150 yards away. We moved to our right and tried to get in front of them. Just for fun, I let out a deep aggressive bugle with a few chuckles.
I immediately got an aggressive response from a large sounding bull… and CLOSE. He was between us and the raghorn. I caught a glimpse of him as he destroyed a few young aspen trees. He was definitely mature. Big enough for sure. I motioned to Alan to get ready, the bull was coming, and we had a good shooting lane in front of us. Alan moved forward and got into position. We both had arrows nocked. I ranged a few trees and started grabbing my camera, hoping to catch a few pics of Alan making the shot.
As I unlatched my camera from my shoulder strap, I saw the bull enter the shooting lane. He saw us and turned to walk away. I looked at Alan and asked, "Hey, you shooting? You shooting? You gonna shoot him?" No response and he wasn't drawing back. I was confused. "I'm shooting."
"Ok."
I drew back, floated my pin on the spot and executed the shot.
I couldn't see the hit through the mist that came off my soaking wet bow, but the shot felt good. The bull was quartered away so it was a high odds shot, and there was no way I missed him at that distance. Alan didn't see the hit, but it sounded like I either hit the elk or an invisible tree. I didn't see the bull run off, but he crashed for a few yards and the woods went silent…. Until another bull further down the mountain let out a bugle. (The rest of the elk were just getting warmed up)
We saw a spike and a few cows coming up the mountain but moving diagonally away from us, so we moved a few yards to the right to get a better look. Maybe my bull was with them. I pulled up my binos and there he was. Standing 70 yards away. He looked hurt as he walked away. I instantly went into kill mode. I didn't look for blood or where I hit the bull. I just saw that he was still standing and I live by the motto of "still standing, still shooting." So I had to shoot him again. The bull looked back over his shoulder as he struggled to trot away. I trotted after him. (I saw GIANT mule deer about 50 yards away from me as I was moving, but didn't think to pull up the camera to take a pic… it was killin time!)
The bull rounded a small ridge and stopped with his head low to the ground. I snuck to 50 yards, drew back, carefully aimed and shot. To my surprise, the bull stood up and booked it down hill. I didn't realize it before the shot, but he had actually laid down on the steep hillside. I thought he was just standing there. It wasn't until Alan said, "Dude, why'd you shoot him again? Look at the ground… and your gaiters. There's literally blood... everywhere."
My tunnel vision cleared and I was finally able to look around and see things.
Sure enough, there was a path of blood nearly 3 feet wide on his trail. There was enough blood on the thin grass that even a downpour didn't wash it off before it stuck to my gaiters. I felt relieved, but was hoping my second arrow didn't give him a bump of adrenaline; enough to send him into the next county.
We decided to wait at the spot the bull laid down. At that spot there was a huge pool of blood running down the hillside. He was dead. It was just a matter of finding him. While we waited, the rest of the elk kept bugling and we were visited by a curious forkie.
The rain let up and the fog lifted slightly. As I was eating some Starburst jelly beans, I noticed a large white-ish tan object through the trees about 100yds away…. It was my bull!
He was laying down at the edge of a meadow. His head was on the ground. He was dead.
After a poor night of sleep, we were up and ready to go far earlier than we needed to be. The tent was thick with excitement. I savoured the warmth of my morning coffee and crushed a packet of ramen. The herd quit bugling around 3am, but we assumed they hadn’t traveled too far.
The wind was good, and the rain was supposed to hold off until midday. We walked a few hundred yards and I let out a bugle to locate the herd…. They weren’t far. Maybe 150yds. I bugled 2 or 3 times and did some cow calls. 4 different bulls responded.
The spot was fairly thick, but we didn’t really have much of a choice. We did our best to cut downwind, but only made it a few yards before the first bull appeared to our right, the down wind side. He trotted to about 50yds away, saw us, and turned around. I bugled at him and aggressively raked some trees. A different bull bugled to our left and ran toward us. I signalled to Alan to find a lane and get ready while I setup 40 yards behind Alan. I cow called twice and broke a few branches. He bugled, moved a few yards closer, stopped, and bugled again.
He wasn’t in a clear lane for Alan, so I mewed quietly and broke a few branches to keep the bull's attention on me. The bull bugled, moved to the right a few yards and out of my sight…
THWACK!!!
Alan sent an arrow and the bull took off in the direction he came from. I bugled a few times and Alan have me a thumbs up with a giant grin on his face. The other bulls kept bugling. I looked at my watch…. We were only 25 minutes into the season.
I walked up to Alan and asked about the shot. He felt it was good, but he didn't see the arrow impact and couldn't tell for sure. I was concerned since the bull was slowly walking when he took the shot. I was hoping for the best.
We waited 30 minutes before checking the impact site.
As we were waiting, an elk randomly appeared where we last saw the bull Alan shot. It was a bull. Other than being a bull we couldn't see enough detail through the thick brush to tell if it was a different elk or Alan's bull. I lightly mewed at it, and it slowly walked away.
I didn't get a warm fuzzy from seeing that bull walk away from us the way he did. Something just didn't feel right.
After the 30 minutes passed, we examined the impact area and found some blood, but not enough to make me think it was a slam dunk. We followed it for about 60yds and found a small puddle in a meadow where it looked like he stood still for a moment.
We only found a few drops after that. So we decided to sit, eat lunch, and give him a few hours. Unfortunately, the forecast called for several days of nearly constant rain. My hopes of finding him were not very high. I didn't know what kind of hit it was, but I knew it wasn't a perfect double lung or heart shot and the evidence was less than encouraging.
We thoroughly searched a 400 yard grid before we decided to just walk in the direction we watched the random elk walk. The herd was still bugling off and on. We assumed the wounded bull would try to keep up with the herd if possible. So we cautiously walked their direction.
As luck would have it, just under a mile away from the shot, I spotted a bull standing in the bottom of a thick drainage. He was less than 100 yards away, but I couldn't get a clear look at him. It was 1 o'clock at this point, roughly 6hrs after the shot.
The rest of the herd was further down the mountain, and still bugling regularly. As the bull turned toward the bugles my heart sank. It was Alan's bull. He was hit really low, but left and right was decent. We needed to get another arrow in him, but the vegetation was just too thick to get it done before he walked off toward the rest of the elk. Alan made a quick move to see if he could close the distance and get another arrow in him, but the bull was gone.
Watching that bull walk away into the rain and fog was one of the toughest moments I've ever spent in the woods. The call setup was perfect, the bull was mature and came well into range. There was no way to turn back time to redo the shot. It was everything you dream about in the off season. Despite the discouraging evidence, there was still a chance we'd find him.
We gave him another hour. The spot the bull had been standing over had a handful of blood droplets, but nothing encouraging. We followed his track for another 300 yards, but found zero blood and no elk. The bugles from the rest of the elk were getting further and further away. I looked at Alan and his face was wrought with disappointment. I tried my best to stay positive, but the situation was what it was.
Unfortunately, in all my time hunting I've seen a lot of wounded animals, and from what I saw on that bull, I didn't think he was going to die. He didn't seem sluggish, and he never bedded down. The wound was extremely low, and if he was hit in a lung I would have expected a little more blood and different behavior. The bull looked fine. Having been on countless blood trails, I know ANYTHING can happen, but this one didn't look like it would have a happy ending. We decided to climb the mountain, give the herd some space, and we'd come back in the morning.
We walked up the mountain to the spot I'd seen the nice bull two days earlier. We heard bugles in that direction in the morning and figured it would be worth a shot for an afternoon setup. The wind was consistent and the rain and fog got a little bit thicker by the time we got to the peak. It was almost prime time.
I let out a soft bugle and a couple cow calls. And just like you see on TV, we got a few responses. They weren't very far, so we moved in for a closer look. We made it maybe 20 yards and spotted the first few elk feeding up the mountain. One of em was a small raghorn about 150 yards away. We moved to our right and tried to get in front of them. Just for fun, I let out a deep aggressive bugle with a few chuckles.
I immediately got an aggressive response from a large sounding bull… and CLOSE. He was between us and the raghorn. I caught a glimpse of him as he destroyed a few young aspen trees. He was definitely mature. Big enough for sure. I motioned to Alan to get ready, the bull was coming, and we had a good shooting lane in front of us. Alan moved forward and got into position. We both had arrows nocked. I ranged a few trees and started grabbing my camera, hoping to catch a few pics of Alan making the shot.
As I unlatched my camera from my shoulder strap, I saw the bull enter the shooting lane. He saw us and turned to walk away. I looked at Alan and asked, "Hey, you shooting? You shooting? You gonna shoot him?" No response and he wasn't drawing back. I was confused. "I'm shooting."
"Ok."
I drew back, floated my pin on the spot and executed the shot.
I couldn't see the hit through the mist that came off my soaking wet bow, but the shot felt good. The bull was quartered away so it was a high odds shot, and there was no way I missed him at that distance. Alan didn't see the hit, but it sounded like I either hit the elk or an invisible tree. I didn't see the bull run off, but he crashed for a few yards and the woods went silent…. Until another bull further down the mountain let out a bugle. (The rest of the elk were just getting warmed up)
We saw a spike and a few cows coming up the mountain but moving diagonally away from us, so we moved a few yards to the right to get a better look. Maybe my bull was with them. I pulled up my binos and there he was. Standing 70 yards away. He looked hurt as he walked away. I instantly went into kill mode. I didn't look for blood or where I hit the bull. I just saw that he was still standing and I live by the motto of "still standing, still shooting." So I had to shoot him again. The bull looked back over his shoulder as he struggled to trot away. I trotted after him. (I saw GIANT mule deer about 50 yards away from me as I was moving, but didn't think to pull up the camera to take a pic… it was killin time!)
The bull rounded a small ridge and stopped with his head low to the ground. I snuck to 50 yards, drew back, carefully aimed and shot. To my surprise, the bull stood up and booked it down hill. I didn't realize it before the shot, but he had actually laid down on the steep hillside. I thought he was just standing there. It wasn't until Alan said, "Dude, why'd you shoot him again? Look at the ground… and your gaiters. There's literally blood... everywhere."
My tunnel vision cleared and I was finally able to look around and see things.
Sure enough, there was a path of blood nearly 3 feet wide on his trail. There was enough blood on the thin grass that even a downpour didn't wash it off before it stuck to my gaiters. I felt relieved, but was hoping my second arrow didn't give him a bump of adrenaline; enough to send him into the next county.
We decided to wait at the spot the bull laid down. At that spot there was a huge pool of blood running down the hillside. He was dead. It was just a matter of finding him. While we waited, the rest of the elk kept bugling and we were visited by a curious forkie.
The rain let up and the fog lifted slightly. As I was eating some Starburst jelly beans, I noticed a large white-ish tan object through the trees about 100yds away…. It was my bull!
He was laying down at the edge of a meadow. His head was on the ground. He was dead.