AZ402
Well-known member
Good looking bull Randy, congrats....
Big Bull In My Future?
- Thread starter Big Fin
- Start date
TBinKodiak
Member
Congrats Randy, that's a great looking bull.
Opening Day
Sometime after I fell asleep to the sound of rain pelting the tent, the temps dropped. I didn't realize it, until I got up to stoke the woodstove. I was happy to hear the rain had stopped and the wind had laid down. Even if it was cooler, at least the rain seemed to have ceased.
It was not that the rain had stopped, but unknown to me, had turned to a very serious snow. Good, I thought.
When I woke and fired up the lantern, four inches of fresh snow was on the ground. And, the visibility was near zero, as the snow fell fast and wet.
Snow was great for finding new tracks, but the blizzard-like visibility would be a bust for footage. No one wants to see big snow flakes, as the narrator tells the viewer what is happening.
After breakfast, and the mandatory coffee, we loaded the ATVs and headed down the road. Some guy in a truck beat us to the turn off, and was going down the road in front of us. It was snowing so hard, you could only make out a glimmer of his lights in the darkness, even though he was creeping along a hundred yards in front of us.
This was an unexpected delay, having to following this truck, as he picked his way through the rocks and mudholes. Fortunately, better judgment prevailed, and after nearly getting stuck for the second time, he pulled over and decided he would start his hunt from the rock knoll he had stopped at. We now raced through the snow to get to our drop off point before daylight. The previous two days, this was a 45 minute ATV ride on crappy roads, so with the driving snow and the delay of the truck, there was no way we would make it there before daylight.
But, with all this new snow, glassing elk would be much easier, and any fresh tracks could be followed to their owner, and hopefully a tag placed on the maker of those tracks. At least this is how I was playing it out in my mind, as I continued down the road.
When we arrived at the place I had gotten stuck the day before, it was already light. Good news was, there was not another hunter in sight, and no tracks of any other hunters were visible on any ridges.
First order was to cross this now swollen creek without getting wet feet. I made it without going over my boots, as I lucked out by finding a rock holding at the bottom of the goo that I was quickly sinking in to. Troy went next, and being the long-legged type, he cleared it with little problem. Loren followed, and was not as lucky as me, and one boot sank and water filled the upper part of his boot. Not a good start to a day that would include hiking over five miles in some country with lots of ups and downs.
To make the first day short, and not bore you with the rather boring details, I did not see an elk opening day. I did not see an elk track opening day. I did not see but a few deer in the miles logged that day.
What a bummer.
I was thoroughly exhausted. The country is hard to get around in when it is dry. Add five inches of wet snow, and you fight for every inch of elevation. The normal tact of sidehilling is useless and at times, dangerous, as you are slipping and falling all the time.
I have the luxury of only worrying about my pack and rifle. Troy and Loren have to worry about their packs, and some very valuable cameras, mics, etc. that they are carrying on tripods that are awkward and unbalanced. Given how their conversation with me got less and less, with each ridge we put behind us, I think I was pushing the bounds of sanity in dragging those guys across this landscape. Had we seen elk the two days previous, maybe they would have been more enthused.
Lucky for me, they are great guys and take their work seriously. I know in their minds they were thinking I was nuts, and that this was a waste of time and effort, in addition to risking damage to their equipment. Yet, they didn't complain. And when I asked their opinions of what they thought of my tactics, they just kept quiet.
By 4:00 pm, we were back at camp, soaked to the bone by the now melting snow. And tired beyond what any of us had wanted on day one of five day hunt. The first priority was to get the stoves going in the tents, so we could get our clothes and boots dried out. The afternoon hunt would have to wait. We needed fresh legs and dry clothes if we were to make another good effort tomorrow.
Near dark, Lawnboy pulled in, full of smiles and enthusiasm. Given the long faces in our camp, he probably thought he was at the morgue. It is nice to have a fresh mind and new energy to raise the spirits after your best plan has not just failed, but completely flopped.
He brought with him an updated weather forecast. Clearing and cold that night, with clearing skies tomorrow, returning to rain and snow for the following day, and for the rest of the week.
It was not hard to fall asleep when the stove was filled with wood and the lantern turned out. The night could not last long enough to rest my tired body and dry my wet clothes. I was too tired to formulate a plan, and would decide that in the morning, though my hunch was to not waste another day in this spot.
The snow I thought would make the first day a great hunt.
Troy and Loren coming up one of the numerous ridges my plan required us to scale that day.
Sometime after I fell asleep to the sound of rain pelting the tent, the temps dropped. I didn't realize it, until I got up to stoke the woodstove. I was happy to hear the rain had stopped and the wind had laid down. Even if it was cooler, at least the rain seemed to have ceased.
It was not that the rain had stopped, but unknown to me, had turned to a very serious snow. Good, I thought.
When I woke and fired up the lantern, four inches of fresh snow was on the ground. And, the visibility was near zero, as the snow fell fast and wet.
Snow was great for finding new tracks, but the blizzard-like visibility would be a bust for footage. No one wants to see big snow flakes, as the narrator tells the viewer what is happening.
After breakfast, and the mandatory coffee, we loaded the ATVs and headed down the road. Some guy in a truck beat us to the turn off, and was going down the road in front of us. It was snowing so hard, you could only make out a glimmer of his lights in the darkness, even though he was creeping along a hundred yards in front of us.
This was an unexpected delay, having to following this truck, as he picked his way through the rocks and mudholes. Fortunately, better judgment prevailed, and after nearly getting stuck for the second time, he pulled over and decided he would start his hunt from the rock knoll he had stopped at. We now raced through the snow to get to our drop off point before daylight. The previous two days, this was a 45 minute ATV ride on crappy roads, so with the driving snow and the delay of the truck, there was no way we would make it there before daylight.
But, with all this new snow, glassing elk would be much easier, and any fresh tracks could be followed to their owner, and hopefully a tag placed on the maker of those tracks. At least this is how I was playing it out in my mind, as I continued down the road.
When we arrived at the place I had gotten stuck the day before, it was already light. Good news was, there was not another hunter in sight, and no tracks of any other hunters were visible on any ridges.
First order was to cross this now swollen creek without getting wet feet. I made it without going over my boots, as I lucked out by finding a rock holding at the bottom of the goo that I was quickly sinking in to. Troy went next, and being the long-legged type, he cleared it with little problem. Loren followed, and was not as lucky as me, and one boot sank and water filled the upper part of his boot. Not a good start to a day that would include hiking over five miles in some country with lots of ups and downs.
To make the first day short, and not bore you with the rather boring details, I did not see an elk opening day. I did not see an elk track opening day. I did not see but a few deer in the miles logged that day.
What a bummer.
I was thoroughly exhausted. The country is hard to get around in when it is dry. Add five inches of wet snow, and you fight for every inch of elevation. The normal tact of sidehilling is useless and at times, dangerous, as you are slipping and falling all the time.
I have the luxury of only worrying about my pack and rifle. Troy and Loren have to worry about their packs, and some very valuable cameras, mics, etc. that they are carrying on tripods that are awkward and unbalanced. Given how their conversation with me got less and less, with each ridge we put behind us, I think I was pushing the bounds of sanity in dragging those guys across this landscape. Had we seen elk the two days previous, maybe they would have been more enthused.
Lucky for me, they are great guys and take their work seriously. I know in their minds they were thinking I was nuts, and that this was a waste of time and effort, in addition to risking damage to their equipment. Yet, they didn't complain. And when I asked their opinions of what they thought of my tactics, they just kept quiet.
By 4:00 pm, we were back at camp, soaked to the bone by the now melting snow. And tired beyond what any of us had wanted on day one of five day hunt. The first priority was to get the stoves going in the tents, so we could get our clothes and boots dried out. The afternoon hunt would have to wait. We needed fresh legs and dry clothes if we were to make another good effort tomorrow.
Near dark, Lawnboy pulled in, full of smiles and enthusiasm. Given the long faces in our camp, he probably thought he was at the morgue. It is nice to have a fresh mind and new energy to raise the spirits after your best plan has not just failed, but completely flopped.
He brought with him an updated weather forecast. Clearing and cold that night, with clearing skies tomorrow, returning to rain and snow for the following day, and for the rest of the week.
It was not hard to fall asleep when the stove was filled with wood and the lantern turned out. The night could not last long enough to rest my tired body and dry my wet clothes. I was too tired to formulate a plan, and would decide that in the morning, though my hunch was to not waste another day in this spot.
The snow I thought would make the first day a great hunt.
Troy and Loren coming up one of the numerous ridges my plan required us to scale that day.
shoots-straight
Well-known member
Nice Bull, success is always sweeter when its earned the hard way.
Day Two - Morning
The alarm went off way too early. Lawnboy jumped from his cot and was bounding around like a rabbit on a caffeine overdose. I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to think of what would be our best plan for this day.
I peaked outside and saw the scattered clouds and while standing in the cold, answering mother nature's morning call, realized just how noisy this snow was going to be, given the cold temps of the past night.
Troy and Loren were stirring and Loren was making his fine concoction of coffee, or some derivative of such. I huddled the team and told them we needed to hustle. Given the cold temps would freeze the gumbo, we would trailer the ATVs forty miles to the other end of the forest and see if we could get the ATVs in to the country I had glassed from the county road the afternoon before season opened.
We really had nothing to lose. For all practical purposes, had never seen this location, other than via Google Earth and from four miles away where a county road traversed a bench and provided some distant glimpse.
According to the maps, the road system would give us a two mile advantage, and it would only be another two miles into where I thought the elk might be. Good news was that this part of the forest was spared most the crunchy snow, but seemed very waterlogged, nonetheless.
We left the vehicles on the shoulder of the county road and dumped the ATVs. We traveled as fast as we could on the frozen gumbo roads, noting a lot of elk tracks crossing the ridges in this fresh mud. Better than anything I had seen in the previous three days.
It was well past legal shooting light when we got to the parking lot where we would park the ATVs. There were no other vehicles, and given how little ruts were in the road, looked as though we would be the first rifle hunters in this area, thanks to the terrible weather making access a near impossibility.
We marched east, trying to make up the time we lost with the long drive and the delay caused by my inability to make up a plan the night before, and be prepared to implement such plan the following morning.
Oh well, nothing we could do about that now. So, we continued. We stopped to glass the basin ahead and saw nothing but lots of sharptails. Troy and Loren filmed the rising sun creating an orange glow on the clouds. As we started to move, Loren caught three mule deer bounding from the trees to our left. All bucks, with one pretty good one. Though this was mainly and elk episode, both Lawnboy and I had mule deer tags, and the biggest of these bucks would have looked good on film. Lucky for that buck, we agreed that we would dedicate this day to elk.
As we crossed the basin, we encountered about an inch of snow on this northwest face. Looking down, it appeared as though a lot of fresh elk tracks had punched through the crust of this snow, sometime during the night, or maybe even this morning. Things were getting a little more interesting.
We continued our eastward hike, up one ridge and down the next. All of a sudden I felt Lawnboy tap my shoulder and he dropped to his knees with his binos already up and glassing. He had spotted some elk to our south. A quick glance showed about a dozen cows and a 6X6 milling on a north facing slope 1,000 yards off.
We were stuck in a big sage basin, with no cover. Only the undulations of the ridge could provide any cover as we might back track to a spot that would hide us. We really had no choice, with the rising sun and four of us out in plain sight. Hustling back west, we tried to keep an eye on the elk, to see what their response might be.
Upon reaching the protection of a sparsely treed ridge, we realized the elk had not seen us. We peaked over the crest of the ridge and could see the elk now starting to bed, 800 yards away.
This ridge held a few trees, and it was hoped that it would provide cover to get us within a few hundred yards. We followed the sparse tree cover to the south east, and using the ridge to conceal us when no trees availed, we got to within 600 yards.
Now we were stuck. We had only one big ponderosa pine between us and the drainage below. If we could cross the 150 yards of open sage below that ponderosa, it would take us to the drainage right below the elk, and with some luck and the continued southeast wind, we might be able to sneak in for a shot.
Quickly, we moved forward to the ponderosa. It was great cover, but really left us in a bad spot. Retreating would be very difficult, without being spotted. And with a dozen elk bedded directly across the basin, at our elevation, us dropping in elevation would give them a great sight advantage over us, not to add the lack of cover we had in front.
Now realizing our predicament, we hunkered out of the wind, using the ponderosa and the little cut bank to provide shelter from the cold wind and cover from the sharp eyes of the elk. All the while, we watched the elk through the spotting scope, trying to see if they might move off and give us a chance to get across this basin.
Across from us was a young 6X6, some spikes, and a bunch of cows. We scoured the timber for more bulls, but kept finding more cows. About the time we had concluded this young bull owned the herd, bugling erupted from the timber between us and them.
Our eyes strained to see who was causing the commotion. Bugling was so frequent, that we thought another hunter may have moved in. But, it was also such a loud and hoarse bulge, we quickly determined it was a real bull. Now, if he would just come out of the timber.
Loren caught a glimpse of an elk moving through the timber downhill and west of the bedded elk. We all were on him, and realized this was the real owner of the herd. He had a young cow in front of him, and he was pushing her through the timber and amongst the bedded cows. He paid no mind to the other elk, having his mind on one thing, and one thing only.
This was a really good bull. Made even "gooder" by the fact that we had seen almost nothing of elk sign in three hard days prior to this. His body size was enormous. With the spotting scope, I could see he sported a matching pair of long whale tails. His mass was really good. His width was good. His fronts were above average. His thirds were weak. I guessed him to be every bit of a 330" bull. All in all, he was a great public land bull.
Now, how to put my tag on him?
With no cover, we really had no options. We would wait to see if the bull pushed this cow to the edge of the timber and provide me the 300 yard shot that it would entail. Or, would he bed with the rest of the group and would they feed out to this basin in the evening, the way they had done the night before?
We sat. We ate. We sat. We conjured up every possible tactic. None seemed to be feasible.
An hour passed. Another hour passed. We started to get a little stir crazy. The possible strategies were getting stranger by the minute.
Down and to our left, Lawnboy pointed out a big herd of antelope grazing our way. What? I had a valid antelope tag in my pocket. And, one of those bucks was a real shooter for Montana. Ain't nothing getting between me and a good antelope buck, not even a big bull elk, or a TV episode.
I told the gang that I was going to shoot that pronghorn buck, if the opportunity presented. They told me I was nuts. With a really nice bull working cows just 600 yards from us, I was going to mess it all up by shooting an antelope. Sorry guys, but I live for antelope hunting, so shut up and like it.
As I loaded a round and steadied for a shot, Loren told me he was on the buck. A fold in the ridge obscured a solid vital shot. The buck was only 150 yards, but I had nothing but a neck or spine shot. Not my style.
The antelope caught our wind and started up the drainage behind us. For me to chase them now meant I would have to leave the cover of the ponderosa, and the elk would see this circus unfold. Oh well, "a bird in the hand......"
I told Loren and Troy to follow me up the ridge right behind our current location. We left our packs and Lawnboy left his rifle. This would only be a short stalk and things would be done, real quick.
Loren and Troy got on the trailing buck. I had the bipod out and the crosshairs had settled. All that needed to happen is for the does to get out from behind him. I only had one tag, not three, and this 150 yard shot, with a .300 Win Mag, would result in three dead antelope.
As is often the case with antelope, the lead doe caught our movement from this close distance and instantly was at Mach II, taking this herd of fifty antelope along with her. I raised and ran to the next saddle where I figured they would cross. When I got there, they had huddled up and were looking back. By the time we got settled and focused, they were again speeding away, not stopping until they were a mile further out.
Damn, now I had just screwed up our elk set up, and did not have an antelope to show for it. Or so I thought.
The alarm went off way too early. Lawnboy jumped from his cot and was bounding around like a rabbit on a caffeine overdose. I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to think of what would be our best plan for this day.
I peaked outside and saw the scattered clouds and while standing in the cold, answering mother nature's morning call, realized just how noisy this snow was going to be, given the cold temps of the past night.
Troy and Loren were stirring and Loren was making his fine concoction of coffee, or some derivative of such. I huddled the team and told them we needed to hustle. Given the cold temps would freeze the gumbo, we would trailer the ATVs forty miles to the other end of the forest and see if we could get the ATVs in to the country I had glassed from the county road the afternoon before season opened.
We really had nothing to lose. For all practical purposes, had never seen this location, other than via Google Earth and from four miles away where a county road traversed a bench and provided some distant glimpse.
According to the maps, the road system would give us a two mile advantage, and it would only be another two miles into where I thought the elk might be. Good news was that this part of the forest was spared most the crunchy snow, but seemed very waterlogged, nonetheless.
We left the vehicles on the shoulder of the county road and dumped the ATVs. We traveled as fast as we could on the frozen gumbo roads, noting a lot of elk tracks crossing the ridges in this fresh mud. Better than anything I had seen in the previous three days.
It was well past legal shooting light when we got to the parking lot where we would park the ATVs. There were no other vehicles, and given how little ruts were in the road, looked as though we would be the first rifle hunters in this area, thanks to the terrible weather making access a near impossibility.
We marched east, trying to make up the time we lost with the long drive and the delay caused by my inability to make up a plan the night before, and be prepared to implement such plan the following morning.
Oh well, nothing we could do about that now. So, we continued. We stopped to glass the basin ahead and saw nothing but lots of sharptails. Troy and Loren filmed the rising sun creating an orange glow on the clouds. As we started to move, Loren caught three mule deer bounding from the trees to our left. All bucks, with one pretty good one. Though this was mainly and elk episode, both Lawnboy and I had mule deer tags, and the biggest of these bucks would have looked good on film. Lucky for that buck, we agreed that we would dedicate this day to elk.
As we crossed the basin, we encountered about an inch of snow on this northwest face. Looking down, it appeared as though a lot of fresh elk tracks had punched through the crust of this snow, sometime during the night, or maybe even this morning. Things were getting a little more interesting.
We continued our eastward hike, up one ridge and down the next. All of a sudden I felt Lawnboy tap my shoulder and he dropped to his knees with his binos already up and glassing. He had spotted some elk to our south. A quick glance showed about a dozen cows and a 6X6 milling on a north facing slope 1,000 yards off.
We were stuck in a big sage basin, with no cover. Only the undulations of the ridge could provide any cover as we might back track to a spot that would hide us. We really had no choice, with the rising sun and four of us out in plain sight. Hustling back west, we tried to keep an eye on the elk, to see what their response might be.
Upon reaching the protection of a sparsely treed ridge, we realized the elk had not seen us. We peaked over the crest of the ridge and could see the elk now starting to bed, 800 yards away.
This ridge held a few trees, and it was hoped that it would provide cover to get us within a few hundred yards. We followed the sparse tree cover to the south east, and using the ridge to conceal us when no trees availed, we got to within 600 yards.
Now we were stuck. We had only one big ponderosa pine between us and the drainage below. If we could cross the 150 yards of open sage below that ponderosa, it would take us to the drainage right below the elk, and with some luck and the continued southeast wind, we might be able to sneak in for a shot.
Quickly, we moved forward to the ponderosa. It was great cover, but really left us in a bad spot. Retreating would be very difficult, without being spotted. And with a dozen elk bedded directly across the basin, at our elevation, us dropping in elevation would give them a great sight advantage over us, not to add the lack of cover we had in front.
Now realizing our predicament, we hunkered out of the wind, using the ponderosa and the little cut bank to provide shelter from the cold wind and cover from the sharp eyes of the elk. All the while, we watched the elk through the spotting scope, trying to see if they might move off and give us a chance to get across this basin.
Across from us was a young 6X6, some spikes, and a bunch of cows. We scoured the timber for more bulls, but kept finding more cows. About the time we had concluded this young bull owned the herd, bugling erupted from the timber between us and them.
Our eyes strained to see who was causing the commotion. Bugling was so frequent, that we thought another hunter may have moved in. But, it was also such a loud and hoarse bulge, we quickly determined it was a real bull. Now, if he would just come out of the timber.
Loren caught a glimpse of an elk moving through the timber downhill and west of the bedded elk. We all were on him, and realized this was the real owner of the herd. He had a young cow in front of him, and he was pushing her through the timber and amongst the bedded cows. He paid no mind to the other elk, having his mind on one thing, and one thing only.
This was a really good bull. Made even "gooder" by the fact that we had seen almost nothing of elk sign in three hard days prior to this. His body size was enormous. With the spotting scope, I could see he sported a matching pair of long whale tails. His mass was really good. His width was good. His fronts were above average. His thirds were weak. I guessed him to be every bit of a 330" bull. All in all, he was a great public land bull.
Now, how to put my tag on him?
With no cover, we really had no options. We would wait to see if the bull pushed this cow to the edge of the timber and provide me the 300 yard shot that it would entail. Or, would he bed with the rest of the group and would they feed out to this basin in the evening, the way they had done the night before?
We sat. We ate. We sat. We conjured up every possible tactic. None seemed to be feasible.
An hour passed. Another hour passed. We started to get a little stir crazy. The possible strategies were getting stranger by the minute.
Down and to our left, Lawnboy pointed out a big herd of antelope grazing our way. What? I had a valid antelope tag in my pocket. And, one of those bucks was a real shooter for Montana. Ain't nothing getting between me and a good antelope buck, not even a big bull elk, or a TV episode.
I told the gang that I was going to shoot that pronghorn buck, if the opportunity presented. They told me I was nuts. With a really nice bull working cows just 600 yards from us, I was going to mess it all up by shooting an antelope. Sorry guys, but I live for antelope hunting, so shut up and like it.
As I loaded a round and steadied for a shot, Loren told me he was on the buck. A fold in the ridge obscured a solid vital shot. The buck was only 150 yards, but I had nothing but a neck or spine shot. Not my style.
The antelope caught our wind and started up the drainage behind us. For me to chase them now meant I would have to leave the cover of the ponderosa, and the elk would see this circus unfold. Oh well, "a bird in the hand......"
I told Loren and Troy to follow me up the ridge right behind our current location. We left our packs and Lawnboy left his rifle. This would only be a short stalk and things would be done, real quick.
Loren and Troy got on the trailing buck. I had the bipod out and the crosshairs had settled. All that needed to happen is for the does to get out from behind him. I only had one tag, not three, and this 150 yard shot, with a .300 Win Mag, would result in three dead antelope.
As is often the case with antelope, the lead doe caught our movement from this close distance and instantly was at Mach II, taking this herd of fifty antelope along with her. I raised and ran to the next saddle where I figured they would cross. When I got there, they had huddled up and were looking back. By the time we got settled and focused, they were again speeding away, not stopping until they were a mile further out.
Damn, now I had just screwed up our elk set up, and did not have an antelope to show for it. Or so I thought.
Day Two - Afternoon
Sorry for the delay. Had to do some stretching before I continue the rest of the story.
So, I blew the antelope opportunity. We were now behind a ridge that was hidden from the elk. We figured we had probably spooked them to the next state. Yet, we decided to sneak to the ridge crest and glance over to see where they had moved off to.
Well, the cows were all bedded, as though nothing had happened. They were all looking our direction. Probably trying to figure out what kind of idiots are playing war games across the basin. We must have seemed harmless. The big bull had pushed his cow up on top of the bench and was continuing to sing his song of love, and the other 6X6 was now trailing along behind, offering to provide his services, if the big boy had lost his stamina.
I was astonished that the commotion of the antelope stalk had not spooked them. But, we now would have to cross some more open country to get to our packs and to Lawnboys rifle. What to do?
We had two options. 1) Continue backing away from our original location, using the washout to our west as cover and take the mile long loop that would close the 300 yards of vastness between our "ponderosa camp" and the timber below. Even though we would be leaving our packs, and the vital items of batteries, spare tapes, food, water, and Lawnboy's rifle behind. Or, 2) Try to get back down to our "ponderosa camp" and wait out the elk and hope the feed our way come evening.
Having little to lose, we chose option 1. It seemed worth the effort and risk, and if it did not work out, probably wouldn't scare the elk. Or at least it shouldn't, if we were careful.
So, down the wash we went. When the wash took us to the back side of another ridge, we circled that, then used the cover of timber to ease right up the drainage between our previous location and where the elk were bedded.
It took less than an hour. It was funny to look up to our left and see all our equipment less than 300 yards away, but knowing it took over a mile to get to this spot.
It was now noon, and the bugling has almost stopped. An occasional bugle could be heard, but it was obvious they had bedded.
We now had a favorable wind, but having dropped down this much, we realized the shooting lanes would not be there. I always expect things to look much different, once I move to a chosen location, but I did not expect them to be this much different.
The elk were now bedded on small timbered benches that trailed down from a high steep-sloped ridge above. The timber and benches made the 300 yards separating us seem like two miles. After all the risks to get here, we did not have a shot.
I told Lawnboy I wanted to circle further up this timbered draw, in hopes it would give us back our elevation, but put us much further east than our original glassing location, and provide some timber for cover. The wind was not that great for such tactic, but we moved forward.
Once we gained back all our elevation, it became apparent that a corner of the ridge was now concealing the elk from our location. Along with too much timber to even think about shooting through.
We stopped again to strategize. The bull let out a few bugles while we weighed our options. I asked Lawnboy if he thought he could cow call loud enough for the bulls to hear him in this wind. He wasn't sure, but we thought it worth a try.
He moved off about 100 yards from me and the cameras and started to whine his Primos love song. Instantly, the big boy was on his feet and bugling. Wow, I would have never expected that.
We sat still, waiting for the bull to appear in one of the openings at the timbered crest. We continued to wait as Lawnboy and the bull exchanged pleasantries. Still no sighting of the bull, but we could tell he was moving, as his replies were coming from different locations.
Lawnboy eased back up to our location. I asked if he would be willing to stay low and continue to call, keeping the bull talking, while I tried to sneak up to the ridge crest and hopefully smoke the bull as he revealed his location, while answering Lawnboy's cow calls. We agreed that it would be our best bet.
Me, Troy, and Loren, trotted across the small opening and clawed our way up this very steep timbered slope. As we neared the top, we could hear cow calling off to our west. And, the bull was now bugling with a lot of frequency, but seemed to be moving away from us.
As I peered over the crest, I expected to see a bunch of elk milling around. What I did see, and something I did not expect to see, was a long wide bench of thick ponderosa regrowth extending way to my south and to the west. Hmmm, this was not going to be as easy as hoped.
I waved Troy and Loren up on the bench with me. The thick young trees made it easier to mover without being seen, and the rain of the past few days made it very quiet walking.
Ahead, the cow chatter was like nothing I had ever heard at this late in the year. I could not only hear them talking, but hear them walking.
I walked west about 150 yards and peered back down into the benches they had been bedded on. I could not see any elk. Across the lip of this bench, I caught movement of an elk turning her head back and forth.
I froze and motioned to the camera guys that I had spotted an elk about 100 yards away. I stayed put and waited. Finally, two spikes and a cow came up and joined her. They moved to my left, or to the south, toward where most the cow calling was originating.
Seeing their plan, I told Troy and Loren, we would swing out in front, find the best opening, and set up, hoping luck would be on our side. Within fifty yards, we found the biggest opening we had yet crossed on this bench. I sat down, loaded the chamber, and extended the bipod. Troy and Loren did the same with their cameras.
We waited. Lawnboy was calling and the bull, though now farther away, would answer. And, some new bulls were entering the fray.
For a minute I wondered if I was really experiencing this. At 1:30 pm, on October 26th, after rifle season had been open a day and a half, was I really hearing this much calling activity, or was my mind losing its grip on reality? Movement of cows coming across in front brought me back to the reality that "Yes, this late season ordeal was for real."
We sat as parts of legs and bodies moved through the thick trees in front of us. They were all following the same path. They were headed southwest, and disappearing over the south and west sides of this bench. This lasted for almost a half hour, as all the elk moved through. I spotted the 6X6 we first spotted this morning, but a tree blocked any shot, even though he was under 100 yards.
Elk continued to move across. When they did provide a small open view, it was as they were skylined and dumping off the ridge. I waited until I heard no more cow calls and no more hoof steps.
How could this be? The big bull, and his distinctive bugle was west of us, not very far, but sounding below us now. Had he slipped through without me seeing him? Had he pushed his cow straight west and escaped through the cover of timber?
At this point, I was getting desperate. I motioned to the camera guys that we would follow the path the elk took, and hope we could glass some moving south off this bench. I fully expected to be moving through this thick young forest and hear the bark of an elk I had not yet seen, but who had spotted us first.
Sorry, gotta finish this in another post, as I have exceeded the 10,000 character limit.
Sorry for the delay. Had to do some stretching before I continue the rest of the story.
So, I blew the antelope opportunity. We were now behind a ridge that was hidden from the elk. We figured we had probably spooked them to the next state. Yet, we decided to sneak to the ridge crest and glance over to see where they had moved off to.
Well, the cows were all bedded, as though nothing had happened. They were all looking our direction. Probably trying to figure out what kind of idiots are playing war games across the basin. We must have seemed harmless. The big bull had pushed his cow up on top of the bench and was continuing to sing his song of love, and the other 6X6 was now trailing along behind, offering to provide his services, if the big boy had lost his stamina.
I was astonished that the commotion of the antelope stalk had not spooked them. But, we now would have to cross some more open country to get to our packs and to Lawnboys rifle. What to do?
We had two options. 1) Continue backing away from our original location, using the washout to our west as cover and take the mile long loop that would close the 300 yards of vastness between our "ponderosa camp" and the timber below. Even though we would be leaving our packs, and the vital items of batteries, spare tapes, food, water, and Lawnboy's rifle behind. Or, 2) Try to get back down to our "ponderosa camp" and wait out the elk and hope the feed our way come evening.
Having little to lose, we chose option 1. It seemed worth the effort and risk, and if it did not work out, probably wouldn't scare the elk. Or at least it shouldn't, if we were careful.
So, down the wash we went. When the wash took us to the back side of another ridge, we circled that, then used the cover of timber to ease right up the drainage between our previous location and where the elk were bedded.
It took less than an hour. It was funny to look up to our left and see all our equipment less than 300 yards away, but knowing it took over a mile to get to this spot.
It was now noon, and the bugling has almost stopped. An occasional bugle could be heard, but it was obvious they had bedded.
We now had a favorable wind, but having dropped down this much, we realized the shooting lanes would not be there. I always expect things to look much different, once I move to a chosen location, but I did not expect them to be this much different.
The elk were now bedded on small timbered benches that trailed down from a high steep-sloped ridge above. The timber and benches made the 300 yards separating us seem like two miles. After all the risks to get here, we did not have a shot.
I told Lawnboy I wanted to circle further up this timbered draw, in hopes it would give us back our elevation, but put us much further east than our original glassing location, and provide some timber for cover. The wind was not that great for such tactic, but we moved forward.
Once we gained back all our elevation, it became apparent that a corner of the ridge was now concealing the elk from our location. Along with too much timber to even think about shooting through.
We stopped again to strategize. The bull let out a few bugles while we weighed our options. I asked Lawnboy if he thought he could cow call loud enough for the bulls to hear him in this wind. He wasn't sure, but we thought it worth a try.
He moved off about 100 yards from me and the cameras and started to whine his Primos love song. Instantly, the big boy was on his feet and bugling. Wow, I would have never expected that.
We sat still, waiting for the bull to appear in one of the openings at the timbered crest. We continued to wait as Lawnboy and the bull exchanged pleasantries. Still no sighting of the bull, but we could tell he was moving, as his replies were coming from different locations.
Lawnboy eased back up to our location. I asked if he would be willing to stay low and continue to call, keeping the bull talking, while I tried to sneak up to the ridge crest and hopefully smoke the bull as he revealed his location, while answering Lawnboy's cow calls. We agreed that it would be our best bet.
Me, Troy, and Loren, trotted across the small opening and clawed our way up this very steep timbered slope. As we neared the top, we could hear cow calling off to our west. And, the bull was now bugling with a lot of frequency, but seemed to be moving away from us.
As I peered over the crest, I expected to see a bunch of elk milling around. What I did see, and something I did not expect to see, was a long wide bench of thick ponderosa regrowth extending way to my south and to the west. Hmmm, this was not going to be as easy as hoped.
I waved Troy and Loren up on the bench with me. The thick young trees made it easier to mover without being seen, and the rain of the past few days made it very quiet walking.
Ahead, the cow chatter was like nothing I had ever heard at this late in the year. I could not only hear them talking, but hear them walking.
I walked west about 150 yards and peered back down into the benches they had been bedded on. I could not see any elk. Across the lip of this bench, I caught movement of an elk turning her head back and forth.
I froze and motioned to the camera guys that I had spotted an elk about 100 yards away. I stayed put and waited. Finally, two spikes and a cow came up and joined her. They moved to my left, or to the south, toward where most the cow calling was originating.
Seeing their plan, I told Troy and Loren, we would swing out in front, find the best opening, and set up, hoping luck would be on our side. Within fifty yards, we found the biggest opening we had yet crossed on this bench. I sat down, loaded the chamber, and extended the bipod. Troy and Loren did the same with their cameras.
We waited. Lawnboy was calling and the bull, though now farther away, would answer. And, some new bulls were entering the fray.
For a minute I wondered if I was really experiencing this. At 1:30 pm, on October 26th, after rifle season had been open a day and a half, was I really hearing this much calling activity, or was my mind losing its grip on reality? Movement of cows coming across in front brought me back to the reality that "Yes, this late season ordeal was for real."
We sat as parts of legs and bodies moved through the thick trees in front of us. They were all following the same path. They were headed southwest, and disappearing over the south and west sides of this bench. This lasted for almost a half hour, as all the elk moved through. I spotted the 6X6 we first spotted this morning, but a tree blocked any shot, even though he was under 100 yards.
Elk continued to move across. When they did provide a small open view, it was as they were skylined and dumping off the ridge. I waited until I heard no more cow calls and no more hoof steps.
How could this be? The big bull, and his distinctive bugle was west of us, not very far, but sounding below us now. Had he slipped through without me seeing him? Had he pushed his cow straight west and escaped through the cover of timber?
At this point, I was getting desperate. I motioned to the camera guys that we would follow the path the elk took, and hope we could glass some moving south off this bench. I fully expected to be moving through this thick young forest and hear the bark of an elk I had not yet seen, but who had spotted us first.
Sorry, gotta finish this in another post, as I have exceeded the 10,000 character limit.
Day Two - Afternoon (continued)
As I ended in the last post, I was getting desperate. I was willing to take the chance that we might bet busted.
I will continue on and hopefully not break the 10,000 character limit with what remains.............
It had been long enough since I had heard any cow calls, that I was willing to gamble that they had all moved through. Risky, but I really could think of no other option.
I moved straight south, with the idea to follow the east-west ridge of the bench, moving from east to west and keeping the now SW wind in my face. When reached the ridge and peered over, I saw nothing but a herd of antelope below. To my west, I could hear the beginning of more cow talk.
I retreated back north twenty yards, taking me away from the lip of the ridge. I then eased another hundred yards west, paralleling the bench edge. The cow talk was now much louder, and back to the frantic level.
I moved south toward to lip. As I neared, I could hear many bugles mixed with the cow talk, below but slightly west of my location.
Now, I picked a tall ponderosa to my southwest and decided to use that as cover, as I eased to the drop of this bench. Immediately, I saw a mass of cows below me in a wide open basin. They were milling around, as spikes, raghorns, and some decent 6X6s moved amongst them.
I motioned to Troy and Loren that the elk were right below us. They were rolling and ready for a shot. We eased forward, using the crest of the bench for cover.
I sat down, extended the bipod, and glassed, knowing the big guy was around somewhere. But, where?
A bugle came from the timbered toe of this bench, almost straight west. I glassed down and could see the big guy chasing this same small cow through the scattered timber. I pointed him to the camera guys and reached for my rangefinder.
First reading was 286 yards. I know this sounds like a plug, and maybe it is, but the Leupold XR-1000 TBR provides line of sight (LOS) or true ballistic range (TBR), and the TBR feature was very helpful shooting at this extreme angle represented by this high bench, with elk almost straight below.
The bull stopped, but his vitals were covered by a tree. I had to wait. The bull now moved toward his cow at a good trot. They were moving straight away.
Where the elk were now located, I was blocking Troy's camera angle. I got up and moved a couple yards to my left. Loren told me I was now in his shot. What the ........(fill in your own words here). Whatever audio is used in the show, I can assure you that it has been heavily edited, given the excitement unfolding at this time.
I moved forward and down. We all had clear angles - Troy wide and focused on me and Loren tight on the targeted bull. The hot cow had now moved way out and had stopped next to a lone young tree. The big bull was following her, but continuing straight away from me. I ranged the tree. TBR was 404 yards. Not what you want for filming. Fortunately, Loren had put his extender on the big camera, and he was whispering to me that the shot was still very good, if I thought I could make it.
The bull walked right next to the tree where the cow had stopped. He was facing straight away. Loren assured me it was great footage, if I took the shot. I was on the bull, cussing him for not turning, and trying to calm myself.
I pretended the bull was broadside and tested how steady I could hold with the bipod and using my knees and left arm as a rear brace. Surprisingly steady. I shoot gongs at 400+ yards quiet often, so I know where this bullet is going, when it leaves the rifle. But shooting from a bench with no excitement is an entirely different world than this scenario.
I continue to hold and practice my breathing. I am feeling very steady. Troy is doing his best to calm me down, while Loren is giving the command to take him when I am ready.
A small bull in the cow group right below me starts to bulge like his tool is on fire. The big bull turns his head and looks back. In doing so, he is now quartering away. Still too narrow of a target at that distance.
The final stroke of luck comes as the bull turns even more to his right, putting him at least 3/4 broadside. I tell the camera guys, "Here we go." I click the safety, and raise the horizontal to the hump on the bull's back and place the vertical on the imaginary line drawn by the far leg.
I don't remember the trigger pull, or the recoil. I always try to watch the bullet impact through the scope, even though I know that is impossible, due to the recoil. When I return to the scope, I see the bull headed to a small thicket ten yards to his left, and hear Loren yelling, "You hit him, you hit him good."
We stand and glass, and watch as all the elk gather and pour through this little thicket. Yet, after five minutes, the big bull has not appeared. Good sign, I hope.
We continue to watch, as Lawnboy works his way up and across the bench to our position. He is almost as excited as me.
I tell him what has happened. He understands my fear that maybe I missed, or worse yet, made a bad hit. I assure him that the shot felt great, but we all know that such is no guarantee of lethal hit.
It is agreed we will start off the bench and scramble down this incredibly steep face, directly to the small tree I have marked as the spot of impact. As we close the distance to a couple hundred yards, Lawnboy stops to glass and locates the bull laying a mere 30 yards from where I had shot.
I let out a big warhoop, and do my best imitation of "ants in the pants" and glass for myself to make sure Lawnboy is not jerking my chain. Nope, big bull laying under the first few trees.
Closer inspection showed the 180 grain bullet entered 2/3 the way up the chest, into the right lung. It did not exit the other side, but lodged on the skin after penetrating the opposite shoulder. I do not advocate shooting at those distances, without a lot of practice and a lot of experience with the rifle and the chosen round you are shooting. I worry that showing such on TV might lead others to think that such shooting is easy and done without a lot of practice. But, that is how the hunt unfolded, and that is how it will be shown.
Hard to explain how rewarding it is to have a hunt come together like this. All the work, the trial and tribulations. To take a great bull, with fantastic footage, on National Forest, when I thought all chances had slipped away. To share it with a great friend like Lawnboy and two great camera guys like Troy and Loren, who are as much my friends as they are part of the OYOA production team.
Lots of people helped with little tidbits of places to look, patterns they have seen while hunting elk in this area, and others who had offered me the chance to come and hunt elk on their property, free of charge.
Those of you who have had a hunt like this, know how hard it is to explain in words the special memories it creates. Even if the effort to pack him out is more than you expected, it is a labor of love. A time of joy and celebration. And everything else that is so great about this thing we call hunting.
Thanks to all who helped, big or small. Especially to those three guys who I got to share it with.
A few pics. Least I can do, considering how long you have had to wait for the details.
Good width and good mass
Always wanted an old bull with great whale tails. Ask and ye shall receive.
Pretty good fronts. Just love the looks of this bull.
Nice to share a hunt like this with great friends.
Good to have a hunting partner who is always smiling. Thanks Bart.
Camera guys, as always, working while we play.
Sun sets on another great public land hunt.
As I ended in the last post, I was getting desperate. I was willing to take the chance that we might bet busted.
I will continue on and hopefully not break the 10,000 character limit with what remains.............
It had been long enough since I had heard any cow calls, that I was willing to gamble that they had all moved through. Risky, but I really could think of no other option.
I moved straight south, with the idea to follow the east-west ridge of the bench, moving from east to west and keeping the now SW wind in my face. When reached the ridge and peered over, I saw nothing but a herd of antelope below. To my west, I could hear the beginning of more cow talk.
I retreated back north twenty yards, taking me away from the lip of the ridge. I then eased another hundred yards west, paralleling the bench edge. The cow talk was now much louder, and back to the frantic level.
I moved south toward to lip. As I neared, I could hear many bugles mixed with the cow talk, below but slightly west of my location.
Now, I picked a tall ponderosa to my southwest and decided to use that as cover, as I eased to the drop of this bench. Immediately, I saw a mass of cows below me in a wide open basin. They were milling around, as spikes, raghorns, and some decent 6X6s moved amongst them.
I motioned to Troy and Loren that the elk were right below us. They were rolling and ready for a shot. We eased forward, using the crest of the bench for cover.
I sat down, extended the bipod, and glassed, knowing the big guy was around somewhere. But, where?
A bugle came from the timbered toe of this bench, almost straight west. I glassed down and could see the big guy chasing this same small cow through the scattered timber. I pointed him to the camera guys and reached for my rangefinder.
First reading was 286 yards. I know this sounds like a plug, and maybe it is, but the Leupold XR-1000 TBR provides line of sight (LOS) or true ballistic range (TBR), and the TBR feature was very helpful shooting at this extreme angle represented by this high bench, with elk almost straight below.
The bull stopped, but his vitals were covered by a tree. I had to wait. The bull now moved toward his cow at a good trot. They were moving straight away.
Where the elk were now located, I was blocking Troy's camera angle. I got up and moved a couple yards to my left. Loren told me I was now in his shot. What the ........(fill in your own words here). Whatever audio is used in the show, I can assure you that it has been heavily edited, given the excitement unfolding at this time.
I moved forward and down. We all had clear angles - Troy wide and focused on me and Loren tight on the targeted bull. The hot cow had now moved way out and had stopped next to a lone young tree. The big bull was following her, but continuing straight away from me. I ranged the tree. TBR was 404 yards. Not what you want for filming. Fortunately, Loren had put his extender on the big camera, and he was whispering to me that the shot was still very good, if I thought I could make it.
The bull walked right next to the tree where the cow had stopped. He was facing straight away. Loren assured me it was great footage, if I took the shot. I was on the bull, cussing him for not turning, and trying to calm myself.
I pretended the bull was broadside and tested how steady I could hold with the bipod and using my knees and left arm as a rear brace. Surprisingly steady. I shoot gongs at 400+ yards quiet often, so I know where this bullet is going, when it leaves the rifle. But shooting from a bench with no excitement is an entirely different world than this scenario.
I continue to hold and practice my breathing. I am feeling very steady. Troy is doing his best to calm me down, while Loren is giving the command to take him when I am ready.
A small bull in the cow group right below me starts to bulge like his tool is on fire. The big bull turns his head and looks back. In doing so, he is now quartering away. Still too narrow of a target at that distance.
The final stroke of luck comes as the bull turns even more to his right, putting him at least 3/4 broadside. I tell the camera guys, "Here we go." I click the safety, and raise the horizontal to the hump on the bull's back and place the vertical on the imaginary line drawn by the far leg.
I don't remember the trigger pull, or the recoil. I always try to watch the bullet impact through the scope, even though I know that is impossible, due to the recoil. When I return to the scope, I see the bull headed to a small thicket ten yards to his left, and hear Loren yelling, "You hit him, you hit him good."
We stand and glass, and watch as all the elk gather and pour through this little thicket. Yet, after five minutes, the big bull has not appeared. Good sign, I hope.
We continue to watch, as Lawnboy works his way up and across the bench to our position. He is almost as excited as me.
I tell him what has happened. He understands my fear that maybe I missed, or worse yet, made a bad hit. I assure him that the shot felt great, but we all know that such is no guarantee of lethal hit.
It is agreed we will start off the bench and scramble down this incredibly steep face, directly to the small tree I have marked as the spot of impact. As we close the distance to a couple hundred yards, Lawnboy stops to glass and locates the bull laying a mere 30 yards from where I had shot.
I let out a big warhoop, and do my best imitation of "ants in the pants" and glass for myself to make sure Lawnboy is not jerking my chain. Nope, big bull laying under the first few trees.
Closer inspection showed the 180 grain bullet entered 2/3 the way up the chest, into the right lung. It did not exit the other side, but lodged on the skin after penetrating the opposite shoulder. I do not advocate shooting at those distances, without a lot of practice and a lot of experience with the rifle and the chosen round you are shooting. I worry that showing such on TV might lead others to think that such shooting is easy and done without a lot of practice. But, that is how the hunt unfolded, and that is how it will be shown.
Hard to explain how rewarding it is to have a hunt come together like this. All the work, the trial and tribulations. To take a great bull, with fantastic footage, on National Forest, when I thought all chances had slipped away. To share it with a great friend like Lawnboy and two great camera guys like Troy and Loren, who are as much my friends as they are part of the OYOA production team.
Lots of people helped with little tidbits of places to look, patterns they have seen while hunting elk in this area, and others who had offered me the chance to come and hunt elk on their property, free of charge.
Those of you who have had a hunt like this, know how hard it is to explain in words the special memories it creates. Even if the effort to pack him out is more than you expected, it is a labor of love. A time of joy and celebration. And everything else that is so great about this thing we call hunting.
Thanks to all who helped, big or small. Especially to those three guys who I got to share it with.
A few pics. Least I can do, considering how long you have had to wait for the details.
Good width and good mass
Always wanted an old bull with great whale tails. Ask and ye shall receive.
Pretty good fronts. Just love the looks of this bull.
Nice to share a hunt like this with great friends.
Good to have a hunting partner who is always smiling. Thanks Bart.
Camera guys, as always, working while we play.
Sun sets on another great public land hunt.
LILIDAHO
New member
Great story! I gota get TV again so I can watch these episodes. Great job! LIL
B
Bio Bo
Guest
Stories like that one make embellishment unnecessary... nor even considered... Pretty special, no doubt...
The Hedgehog
Well-known member
Great write up!
Last night, the kids and I watched the elk episode from last year (Bart's elk).. great program. I'm sure this one will be even better. Congrats on a beautiful bull and a great hunt!
I had a really nice bull slip through my fingers the other day and was thinking how tough it would be to have a camera crew along trying to film that fiasco. I can really appreciate how difficult it must be to get some of the great footage that's been on your episodes.
Last night, the kids and I watched the elk episode from last year (Bart's elk).. great program. I'm sure this one will be even better. Congrats on a beautiful bull and a great hunt!
I had a really nice bull slip through my fingers the other day and was thinking how tough it would be to have a camera crew along trying to film that fiasco. I can really appreciate how difficult it must be to get some of the great footage that's been on your episodes.
Breaks Runner
New member
Way to go Randy!!! He's a dandy!!!
belly-deep
Active member
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2009
- Messages
- 3,459
Thats great. I can't wait to watch it on video. I really like the show, by the way.
hardscrabble
Active member
Congrats on a great bull! Thanks for sharing, the pics and story.
I watched the show where your friend , Bart, was having to beat the sunset by running after the herd that was leaving. I kept thinking, "man, that cameraman must be in good shape to keep up with him!" Good stuff guys. Love the upbeat, never give up attitude...got to have it when elk hunting!
elk_hunter
Active member
Randy, outstanding job. Love the whale-tails and the mass on that bull -- he's a dandy!
noharleyyet
Well-known member
Awesome bull Fin, congrats.
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