We're too tired to type and my internet connection here is abysmal, so pics will have to tell the depth of the story until I get home in a few days and provide more details. This abbreviated version of the story will be told "Oak style" with added story line.
On the first day of our Wyoming elk hunt, it snowed. And then the wind blew. And it was cold. We saw five bulls. All five pointers or raghorns. No dead elk.
On the second day of our Wyoming elk hunt, the wind blew. It was even colder. Spitz spotted a bull way up on the mountain, but couldn't tell how big it was before it disappeared. We hiked our butts off and since Spitz was looking for a "big one" I decided this one should be a TV star. We had to take him out in two loads. This was the last load.
On the third day of our Wyoming elk hunt, the wind blew. It was really cold. I spotted a group of four bulls. By the time I could get over to Spitz and we returned to the rock I was glassing from, the elk had disappeared in the timber. When I told Spitz one of them would qualify as "big," he seemed disappointed they were no longer there.
On the third evening of our Wyoming elk hunt, the wind was still blowing. We went to the rock where I had spotted the elk earlier. On the way there I saw six bulls. One was "big". Spitz agreed. He shot it. We almost died getting it off the mountain. Spitz was happy. Fin was happy. Brad, "the backcountry badass" cameraman was really happy.
The End..
On the first day of our Wyoming elk hunt, it snowed. And then the wind blew. And it was cold. We saw five bulls. All five pointers or raghorns. No dead elk.
On the second day of our Wyoming elk hunt, the wind blew. It was even colder. Spitz spotted a bull way up on the mountain, but couldn't tell how big it was before it disappeared. We hiked our butts off and since Spitz was looking for a "big one" I decided this one should be a TV star. We had to take him out in two loads. This was the last load.
On the third day of our Wyoming elk hunt, the wind blew. It was really cold. I spotted a group of four bulls. By the time I could get over to Spitz and we returned to the rock I was glassing from, the elk had disappeared in the timber. When I told Spitz one of them would qualify as "big," he seemed disappointed they were no longer there.
On the third evening of our Wyoming elk hunt, the wind was still blowing. We went to the rock where I had spotted the elk earlier. On the way there I saw six bulls. One was "big". Spitz agreed. He shot it. We almost died getting it off the mountain. Spitz was happy. Fin was happy. Brad, "the backcountry badass" cameraman was really happy.
The End..
