Thank goodness I grew up in an elk hunting family.
Grandpa with my 2 older brothers and me (age 1) skinning elk. (No my mother doesn't dress me anymore!)
My grandpa Roy with the last bull elk (atleast that's the story we always tell!) that was legally killed in the old Railroad Ranch in Easten Idaho before It became Harriman State park.
Few more elk from before I could go.
Dad would always let us miss 1 day of school for the rilfe opener when we turned 8 years old. I was so excited that I made myself sick and puked and couldn't go. Later that season, on my first trip, my 2 older brothers and I got to help drag a cow out.
Then I got to go! My first elk.
It was all downhill from there! All Idaho DIY.
Few Wyo DIY bulls
Good pack mules - I mean buddies - are worth their wieght in GOLD! My buddy Rhen packing the BACK HALF of my 6pt from the above pic. Split in half at the 3rd rib. HEAVY
Me, dad and brother, Zane, with Zane's Wyo bull
Then it was my turn to pay it forward. Good buddy called and told me his dad, Sid, had just turned 60 and was diagnosed with cancer. He'd never killed a bull elk so "no pressure", but you've got to find him a 6x in Wyo this fall. We did! Wyo 2011.
My 12 year old daughter, McKenzie, with her first elk. 10 year old sister Paige assisted! Wyo 2011.
I had all 4 of my daughters on the same hunt that Kenz harvested her first elk. This time family friend, Tom, took a cow for the freezer. I'm 4 for 4 on daughters. If I were an angus bull, what would I be worth since I only throw heifers??????: