Earning it on the front end

Bluffgruff

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Joined
Jun 23, 2019
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1,426
Location
Colorado
Me:
"Man, without being able to find a truck/trailer combo, you're my best option."
"You willing to do this if I cover all the costs?"
"And owe you huge?"

The Beard:
"Yes when will you need me there 4 ish?"

These lines are the final bit of a long text exchange between me and the main character of this story from about 11 months ago. He never asked for anything in return, but I owed him huge.

At the conclusion of that adventure, he had been up close to 24 hours, driven through a blizzard towing a hapless truck over 2 Colorado passes to dump me and the truck and a bison at my house safe and sound. I owed him huge.

Revisit that story here.

On the long drive, among innumerable other topics, we talked about his hunting wishlist, and an elk was sitting close to the top. He had never killed an elk, cow or bull, despite chasing for several years. I had even been on the other side of a rock from him with a clear 180 yard shot at a massive cow elk several years before. She blew out before appearing in his field of view. He had walked the mountains and timber with several tags in several units, but could never quite bring home an elk.

I said I'd work on a strategy to get him a good tag, and what I came up with worked.

Come November, he has a good tag in his pocket and is cruising to his unit on a windy, late fall day. He's two days ahead of me, and, since I'm still learning from my experiences, he has strict instructions not to shoot anything until I join him. Nothing at all. Don't even load your rifle.

He arrives to the sights, quirks, and realities of late season hunting. Climbing up from the valley into the trees, the snow deepens, the roads deteriorate. He can't plow through the drifts to the e-scouted campsite, but finds a good one just short of it. A bull moose greets him at a small creek crossing. He's elk hunting again.
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The next day, he's up early to walk to a glassing knob. He gets passed on a sxs by a guide and his client. Surely there's something they think is worth pursuing up here. He glasses through the wind and bitter cold into the early afternoon, but only only sees moose, and the guide digging out the drifts repeatedly each time they pass his hill. He reposition on the face a few times to avoid the 20-40mph gusts, but sticks it out, much better than I would have.

I finally arrive late in the afternoon. It's a beautiful snow covered scene, and I'm hoping the last several years of late season elk hunting have given me the tools to make our hunt successful.
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This guy has made quite the camp. I realize this is hunt 9 or 10 for me for the year, and I haven't really unpacked since August, but this is only his second hunt, and he went all out. Camper, heater, pre-made dinners, lunches, snacks, everything is ready.

On arrival, I toss my bedroll and a couple extra items in the camper and he tosses his rifle and hunting pack in my pickup and we head off to glass the last hour of the day. We find some deer, and realize the roads are going to make this incredibly tough to access more than just a few miles of the main road. We return to the camper, and dig into pork adobada tacos.

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The next morning, we have a plan to return to his glassing hill, trying to beat the guide and his client, but we're just a touch behind. They pass through just as we're loading up. We also have to park several hundred yards shy of the snow drift from the day before in my pickup, but they're able to cruise up to the drift in their side by side. As we walk up to the guide, he and his client and brother digging out the drift for the 3rd time in 24 hours, he greets us jovially. We talk for a few minutes. They're after something special, but I assure him we're just after something representative. While we're talking, he locks onto something through the trees over my shoulder, "Is that a bull??" I whip around and pull up my binos. Through a tiny gap in the trees, there's a definite yellow body, branch antlered, decent size, 6x6 at least, but I have no context for it. The guide thinks it's the 7x7 he's been chasing. Finders keepers in this game, so we help the guide get his client's attention 50 yards up the road, and hopeful that the bull isn't alone, we follow them up to a shooting position, 500 yards from the bull. After a few minutes, the client puts a great shot into the bull from 500 yards, then another insurance shot as he wobbles a few more steps. I ask the guide if he wants help with breaking it down, but with his brother up the hill, he declines. He also says he'll ask his brother to take a good look around for us. This bull isn't mine to share, but to say it's impressive is an understatement: 7x7, long tines, long beams, the bull of a lifetime for most people. This guide turns out to be quite generous, and freely gives us info on a few additional spots, and as of the next day, the free use of a side by side he isn't using. If I ever want or need a guide, I'll hire this guy. He isn't cheap, but character counts more than money in my book.

We continue up the road to the hill, meet up with and talk to the brother, who gives us the location of a group of bulls just off public that might be worth watching. We thank him and move up the hill. We spot the group of bulls and tuck in out of the wind to watch them and look for more.
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We stay up for several hours, but when they bed well into private land, we move back to the truck with the plan to try some other areas for the evening and to return in the morning.

We chain up at camp, grab some snacks, and head to the other side of what we can drive to in the unit

Christmas Tree hunting here would be epic, and the weekend traffic a few days later proves that other people think so too!
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From our next vantage, we see some deer, but no elk.
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On our way back to the truck at sunset, right at it, up the hill, I see a suspicious rock, not 500 yards away in the trees. It's moving. It's an elk. My initial thought is that it's a cow, but my partner says he can see antlers. We move up 50 yards and I put the spotter on it. It IS a bull, a former 6x6, missing 5 or 6 tines. The bull moves up a bit to the right towards a saddle and we lose sight of him. I think I see another elk with him, but can't get an angle, so we cut up the hill towards where we think he's headed. Crunchy snow, deep drifts up to our thighs, and fading light are against us, and as I crest the hill, I think we've missed him, but my buddy, 5 yards behind me, hisses that there's an elk in the tiny bowl to our left, not 50 yards away. I sneak back to him and get my binos on the bull, hoping it's a second elk but the bull there is the broken 6x6, all of 42 yards away.
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A quick discussion ensues regarding this sure thing versus hunting the next 5 days, looking for something better. I'm very strongly against shooting this bull, but I don't want to impose my goals on the hunter. I shake my head, this isn't the right bull. The bull spots us, and after a short stare down, with us trying to retreat without him spooking, he decides he's had enough and runs off up the ridgeline. I feel confident we'll find a better bull, but I still wonder if this one was good enough.

We return to the truck and grind back up the hill towards camp. We make it, but I'm glad we chained up! Tonight's dinner is pork sausage fried rice. The camper makes sleeping very comfortable in the frigid temps and howling wind. The next day, we'll head back to check the bulls playing the border game, hoping they've moved onto public land.
 

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wtf lady I’ve been waiting for this thread.
 

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