Elk Misadventures

Day 4: Scouting Day

We got into camp the night before and set up on some BLM land about 15 miles off the highway. We set put in the morning to hit the grasslands with binos on tripods and immediately started finding elk... lots of them.

A few close to us but most were far, miles away in the hardest to reach (and hunt) part of the unit. We then set off on foot and got to the top of the highest peak in the grasslands and met this guy:
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We set down to glass and eat lunch and he was bedded on the same ridge a few hundred yards away. After a while he walked up to check us out.

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Then on the way back down the mountain, tragedy strikes...

When I named this thread "misadventures" it wasn't supposed to be prophetical. I stepped on a loose rock/boulder, tried to catch myself, and landed on an even looser boulder. My right knee bent a weird way, pain crept in, and I knew this was now not going to be as easy as I thought.

Edit: Almost forgot the first misadventure which was sinking the truck to the frame on a muddy BLM road. If we didn't have the UTV to pull us out, it'd be a permanent fixture on the landscape
 
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Day 5: Opening Day.

I took care of my knee as best as I could. Industrial amounts of ibuprofen, some of my grandpa's old arthritis medicine (thanks pop-pop), and a few ace bandages. We set out to glassing the grasslands again and the only elk we turned up were in the exact same place as the day before, as far away from us as you could possibly be... we started calling it Narnia.

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Due to my bum knee, I wanted to take it easy so we spent the rest of the day driving the periphery of the unit to gauge hunting pressure. Which too about 6 hours, it's a big unit.
 
Day 6: Into Narnia we go

On our drive around the unit I did some thinking that resulted in the following statement to my hunting partner: "How much of my shit do you think you can carry to Narnia?"

The following morning we set off with him carrying the bulk of my stuff: lots of pain meds, and did I mention there's no water on public land for 4 miles in any direction? So we planned for 3 days, roughing it and suffering at 2 liters per person per day (hint: that's not enough).

We devised a route that was about 4 miles in, around private, up and down a 1000 feet or so. He had probably an 80lb pack and me with maybe 25lbs. It took some doing, pain suffering, and a lot of breaks but we made it. We set camp about 2 miles of high grassland from downtown Narnia. As we set camp a bull screamed and chuckled a few hundred yards away. We gave chase but never saw him.

That evening we met our first Narnians:

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Tried a long, slow, limping, crawl through the tall grass but had to abort due to lack of day light. He and his many friends screamed all around camp all night long.


More to follow later...
 
Day 7: There's a lot of elk out here...

It's hard to sleep between the coyotes, Mexican Wolves, and about a dozen bulls make it hard to sleep. Turns out our selected camp location above a private stock tank was a good place to be.

We got ready and chased bugles. All the elk were in herds of no less than 20. Big gangs of roving elk with a lot of eyes and noses. We tried calling, cow calls with no effect and bugles made them round up the cows and push further up the mountain. I don't know what it is about these elk, they don't lay down during the day. Like sharks needing to swim to breath.

The best tactic was simply staying quiet and sneaking into the herd. We managed to get spitting distance from cows and raghorns on several occasions, hoping to catch a glimpse of the herd bull. We were always caught by a wind swirl before we could see the big guy running the show.

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Also stumbled into my first Montezuma/Mearns quail which was pretty neat:

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Before dark we put on a stalk for the prairie elk again. I think they somehow have the ability to go into prairie dog holes.20230917_160947.jpg

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Day 8: Heartbreak and an impending trip to an orthopedic surgeon.

The night is filled with LOUD and CLOSE bugles to camp. As we get ready a bull is just lighting it up a few hundred yards away. We are working towards the beginning minutes of shooting light, get the wind right, and start some light calling as we work into the herd amongst the pinion-juniper. I rush forward of the herd and beat most of them to the prairie. Estimated herd size is 50+ elk.

My knee is falling apart, hurts to walk, stand sit, or do anything at this point. I'm taking max doses of all that I have on hand to dull the pain but it's evident that something is very wrong. Going into the hunt I wanted to hold out for a good branch antlered bull but it's now looking grim.

The first 3 elk feed out in front of me at 75 yards and closing. The first two are big spikes and the third is a 4x4 raghorn. I decide that I want to shoot the raghorn if possible. The 2nd spike and the raghorn take to sparring but the lead spike is coming right for me. Closing the distance WAY too quickly. He gets to 15 yards, 10 yards, 5 yards, then it happens. He caught my scent and bolts. The raghorn takes off behind him and I try to stop him with a cow call. He slows to a walk, I estimate the range, shoot, and... miss low.

The whole herd explodes but none but the 3 small bulls know what happened. They run into the nearby timber and ball up. Elk scattered everywhere. I take off running after them. I end up in the middle of the herd and the herd bull is out about 130 yards and cows in the timber to my right at about 50 yards. I try to edge closer to the herd bull and realize there's 20+ more elk to my left I hadn't seen. I'm caught in the wide open prairie with nothing that can be even confused for cover. I stand still, doing my best tree impression.

The 20 or so cows and spike bulls work across the opening towards the main herd. Every time I found it safe I took a single step towards them. Apparently I make a great tree because nothing spooks.

The last bull in the line is the raghorn I shot at. He works across the field, gets right in front of me, I range him at 67 yards, I stop him and shoot. He jumped and whirled on the shot and the arrow hit right about heart height just behind the shoulder. BUT I got virtually ZERO penetration. It appeared that the whole arrow, except for the first few inches was hanging out.

I backed out and waited an hour before looking for him. We searched for the rest of the morning and found zero trace of neither blood nor arrow.

I talked myself into thinking it was a non-fatal hit, shrugged it off, and carried on.

We heard more bugles nearby, closed about a mile and a half. Just in time to catch up with the back of the herd. The closest elk is a different raghorn bull. He was standing broadside, head down, and feeding.

.... I couldn't draw my bow. As far as I was concerned my hunt was over. I couldn't shake the feeling that I killed the first bull and couldn't bring myself to shoot another. I notched my tag and walked away.

After the days antics my knee is in a bad way. I can barely walk. We have 1.5 liters of water between the two of us and we're 7 miles and a lot of climbs from the truck. Exertion and dehydration induced altitude sickness start to set in. It about killed me getting out of there. Hardest hike of my life.

And so concludes my New Mexico Misadventure

Edit: Thank you to all the Hunt Talkers that made this wild ride possible.
 
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I wish it would have had the hoped for story book ending, but you were out there and certainly had a grand adventure. Thanks for sharing the ride and those great photos. Now, get that knee back in shape, good luck!
 
I hate how it ended but looks like it was a ton of fun while it lasted! I think the best thing about open country like that is how many critters you get to see even though it provides its own set of frustrations. Best of luck with the knee healing.
 
Thanks for sharing. Best of luck healing up. I’m curious to hear what the doc has to say. Success next season is going to be bitter sweet after this!
 
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