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Elk on Aldo’s boot prints

rmyoung1

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I burned 13 points this year on a late-rifle Arizona elk tag in Unit 1. The area holds a small wilderness area, the Escudilla Wilderness, that was an important piece of real estate in the life of Aldo Leupold. Today it’s almost entirely scarred over from the 2011 Wallow Fire. But those darned elk seem to like burns. And they echoed Aldo’s opinions of the mountain, apparently. I camped on the high-elevation plateau just off the southern flank.
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I showed up a few days before the season started to take a look around and to learn the lay of the land. My dad, originally scheduled to accompany me on this hunt, had his plans adjusted due to an unwanted, prolonged visit from the ‘rona, so I began the trip alone. My efforts to recruit new help were complicated by my friends’ Thanksgiving commitments. Go figure! But a few days of solitude isn’t always bad, and I found elk.
On Thanksgiving Day my dad, feeling sufficiently recovered, flew to Albuquerque, so my hunting partner and I connected just in time for fog and snow to engulf Aldo’s mountain.
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During my scouting I consistently found bachelor bull groups hanging out in a high basin within the wilderness at around 10,500 feet. That basin became my goal for opening morning. In the predawn darkness, I worked my way up the trail. Unfortunately, 4 other headlamp-wearers also picked the same trail and beat me to the punch. And unfortunately for all five of us, the thick fog prevented productive glassing. No shots were fired although I did bump into 3 bulls on my way off the mountain.
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Cool stuff. I have been there twice, not since the fire, so I am interested to see how it responds to the fire. The north face were some of the coolest, thickest, elk-infested aspen stands I've ever crawled through.

Looking forward to following your story.
 
I’m a stubborn sort... the kind of guy who, even as a young boy tarried at the deep, bubbling pool because it looked like a good place for a fish... even if I didn’t catch any. So, the following morning, I still planned to hit that high basin. The day before I couldn’t see 100 yards, but perhaps the next day would be different. I awoke to temperatures in the low teens, clear skies, and no fresh boot prints at the trailhead.
The hike up the blowdown-filled trail revealed no other headlamps, and I reached the basin at first light. Right on cue, a bachelor band of six bulls fed across the top, angling toward to the safety of the thick aspen regrowth.
I hustled up the trail as far as I dared and laid my pack down in the trail. The largest bull in the bunch was in the lead and clearly feeding his way toward bedding cover. But he managed to linger long enough for me to rest my 7mm Wby across my pack and touch one off.
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Following with interest!!!

When we were there last year you couldn't even get up the road to the wilderness area due to the snow.
 
I’m not the world’s best elk hunter, and bull elk mean something to me. It was an emotional walk up to this battered bull with broken points. The opportunity to execute a successful hunt within a wilderness area foreign to me during a year when everything, even hunting plans, seemed to hang in the balance was not taken for granted. And to top it off, my 68-year-old father was able to make the mile-and-a-half hike and join me at the kill site and assist in the knife work.
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I had a lot to be thankful for that Thanksgiving weekend. Wild places conserved by forward-thinking people. A dad who regained enough strength to join me on the trip. And the blessing of this elk-hunting endeavor which brought a smile to a year that needed one. Praise to the Creator of Aldo’s mountain! And thanks to some fine guys here on HT who graciously shared info and insight @Blacktailbc @npaden @jabber @Gr8bawana
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Great write up and beautiful photos. I’m glad it came together for you with your dad there. Look like a beautiful place. Congratulations!
 
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