I had been summoned by Matt / Duckslayer to get on the forum as my AZ thread had been dug up. I had turned into a lurker in 2018 after having problems logging in. I want to say there was a site update or something but I could be wrong. Regardless I took the time to get everything sorted out and after doing my best to clear up my Arizona trip, I figured it was a good time to post the story and pics of my 2019 archery bull while my fingers were already warmed up. I’ll try and keep it somewhat quick. Disclaimer - I failed at keeping it somewhat quick.
I initially spotted this bull on Labor Day weekend. On September 1st there was actually a ton of bugling going on in my hunting area but once the pressure got to them they took a back seat and figured out the game again. I actually missed a sizeable 5 point before the sun crested the hill on opening day. I ranged a group of trees at 57 yards and he ended up walking out in front of those trees. I aimed for 55 in the heat of the moment thinking “he’s in front of my trees” and he ended up being at 45. Bull fever!
that evening I snuck into an area I know well and bumped a group of elk below me as I crested the ridge and the wind hit me in the back. After it got quiet, I let out a tiny little “feeler bugle” as if to say “who’s there?”. I was answered by one that matched it and quickly spotted this bull’s antlers 150 yards away in some thick aspens. The conditions weren’t right for calling him to me so I snuck out and tried to sneak back around on him. I got to 67 yards and that was as close as I came. He knew something wasn’t right and snuck out of there and so did I, thinking I could find him the next morning....I could not.
Fast forward to the next weekend and full week and there was very little bugling action. I spent it with family and friends so it was a great time, but the elk were fairly quiet. We played the game a couple times but my only real elk highlight came while hunting by myself. I finally found one that wanted to play and was able to cross the canyon, get even with him and call him into 40 yards. As he was coming in I noticed all the small sticks that were sticking up in my shooting lanes so I let him come further than I had planned. When he was at the last shooting lane I called to stop him and had to hug real tight to an aspen tree. Well...I hit that aspen tree. Luckily the arrow didn’t deflect and hit the bull but ricocheted hard right. Ten days hunting elk and now two misses. Neither miss was due to being inaccurate so that made me feel better but there were still things I could’ve done different and I didn’t, so that made things slightly discouraging.
The weekend after I headed to the high country for deer and returned to the elk woods the morning of September 21st. On my way up the mountain, in the predawn hours, I wanted to hunt the location where I last saw that big bull on Labor Day. I parked the truck and bugled....nothing. I went another half mile and bugled into another basin and was answered by a bull in the nastiness, meanest hole in my little area. Honestly I went, “well you sound small. Too small for me to drop into there this morning.” I had never had the sound of a bugle talk me out of dropping into a basin but for whatever reason, it did that morning. I went another quarter mile to bugle into another basin...nothing.
Finally I drove as far as I wanted to go, walked to the top of the hill and was greeted with a gnarly bugle below me. I was caught off guard and couldn’t figure out where exactly the bugle came from. I cow called a couple times and was able to pinpoint him. The morning thermals were sending my scent downhill right to him so I immediately headed up the spine of the ridge. When I thought I was past him enough I dropped straight down, got even with him on the ridge and side hilled back towards him. He was bugling intermittently the whole way, making him easy to keep tabs on. I got to where I knew I was in his bubble, I just had to “do this right” and set up correctly. All my walking at this point had been done in the dark timber, and having hunted this area plenty in the past, I knew this bull was in or around some meadows I knew well. As I was stuck in this moment of “what do I do next” I was in some more sparsely placed trees. I could see probably 150 yards with relative ease. I struggled with the thought of setting up there but knew he was just out of sight and could get nervous not being able to see the elk that was going to call to him.
I bumped up. When I bumped up I saw one of the meadows I know well so I figured I better go take a look and make sure he wasn’t in it. I got just about to the edge of the meadow but still in the trees a bit as I looked up and saw one of the most beautiful sites I’ve ever seen. There he was in all his glory on the other side of the meadow and along the tree line. We had seemingly arrived at the edge of the meadow at the same time as I spotted him as he entered it just as I stopped to scan around. He then stopped and let out a lip bawl that shook me to my core.
In a stroke of luck, here he came. Right across the meadow and right towards me. Remember I haven’t called to this bull at all except for 20 minutes before at the top of the ridge. He was on a trot and I immediately knocked an arrow and remember being in shock by how quick he was cutting the distance. I also remember missing my d loop with my release twice! Being just inside the tree line of this opening worked great as I was able to range as he was coming at me. I don’t honestly remember if I ranged it before I attached my release or after but I ranged a tree in front of me at 19 yards. It felt like he was there immediately moving right to left and I cow called to stop him when he cleared that pine. When he stopped it wasn’t dead in his tracks, but instead he took a few steps almost toward me. He was very close to giving me a perfect frontal, but I’ll be honest, it was not perfect. In the moment, I elected to take the shot. I hurriedly put my pin between the point of his right shoulder and his wind pipe. I let it go...and was sick. The arrow penetrated fully but it was lower than I wanted. Such things happen on a hurried shot I guess.
I watched him spin and go back towards where he came from. I came back to reality and stopped him as quick as I could and stepped out from behind all the trees while loading another arrow. He stopped at 80 yards but gave me nothing but a Texas heart shot of which I elected to pass. I really wasn’t sure that this bull was mortally wounded and I wasn’t going to pin cushion him. I stopped him repeatedly as he made his way to the far side of the meadow, praying he would tip over. He never looked sick as he got to the far side of the meadow and made his way into the trees. I was immediately angry. 11 days hunting elk and I wound the biggest bull I’d seen all season. Remember i’d already missed two. I was just mad. I couldn’t believe I tried that frontal shot, I couldn’t believe the mistakes I made, and I remember being mad that I just robbed somebody else the chance at this awesome bull because I decided to take a shot that wasn’t a sure thing. It didn’t sit well with me and after throwing all my things down and sitting there for a bit, the responsibility of my actions took over. I knew I had to give everything I had to find this bull. I had a blessing and a curse in a small skiff of snow. It was just enough to make the ground white so I knew if it got warm I’d have to hurry and take up the track and if it decides to snow some more I’d need to do the same thing. I went to where the bull was standing and found no blood. I followed his tracks to where I stopped him the first time and nothing. I followed him to where I saw him disappear into the timber and again...no blood. At some point when I was in the middle of that meadow I heard what sounded like a groan. I heard that sound when my bull died in 2017 and was hoping my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. The wind was blowing when I heard the noise so I wasn’t 100% sure it wasn’t a tall pine groaning in the wind. It gave me hope but I wasn’t sold on it. I do remember stopping the next few times the wind blew and never heard that sound again. It gave me hope, but my mood had not improved.
Wanting to give this bull as much time as I could I went back to where I hit him thinking maybe my arrow did exit somehow. I didn’t find my arrow but I did find fresh elk tracks from at least one cow and a calf. Side note- I think I put myself in the right place at the right time that morning. That bull somehow lost those cows. There’s some wallows down in the bottom and I think he went down there and his cows were gone when he got back up to the meadows. I don’t know if my cow calls early in the morning got him moving or not, but I do know I inadvertently put myself 21 yards from where those cows exited that meadow that morning.
Back to the blood trail or lack there of. I looked around at the tracks and I re followed his tracks back to the edge of the timber. Still no blood. I couldn’t find any little pin drop, and I had snow. If memory serves me right I waited about an hour and 45 minutes before it started to snow. It started snowing hard enough that I was worried about it covering the only sign I had in his tracks. I started back on the trail. It was easy to follow and headed for the small bench I heard the groaning coming from. As I followed his tracks onto that bench I was met with the site of a fully expired bull. I’m not ashamed to say I broke down. I was mad at my decisions and dealing with a guilty pit in my stomach. When I saw him laying there all those emotions changed very quickly. I was so very thankful that my prayers were answered, that everything worked out, and that he actually didn’t appear to have suffered at all. I had my moment with the bull and began the solo picture taking and meat cutting job.
I initially spotted this bull on Labor Day weekend. On September 1st there was actually a ton of bugling going on in my hunting area but once the pressure got to them they took a back seat and figured out the game again. I actually missed a sizeable 5 point before the sun crested the hill on opening day. I ranged a group of trees at 57 yards and he ended up walking out in front of those trees. I aimed for 55 in the heat of the moment thinking “he’s in front of my trees” and he ended up being at 45. Bull fever!
that evening I snuck into an area I know well and bumped a group of elk below me as I crested the ridge and the wind hit me in the back. After it got quiet, I let out a tiny little “feeler bugle” as if to say “who’s there?”. I was answered by one that matched it and quickly spotted this bull’s antlers 150 yards away in some thick aspens. The conditions weren’t right for calling him to me so I snuck out and tried to sneak back around on him. I got to 67 yards and that was as close as I came. He knew something wasn’t right and snuck out of there and so did I, thinking I could find him the next morning....I could not.
Fast forward to the next weekend and full week and there was very little bugling action. I spent it with family and friends so it was a great time, but the elk were fairly quiet. We played the game a couple times but my only real elk highlight came while hunting by myself. I finally found one that wanted to play and was able to cross the canyon, get even with him and call him into 40 yards. As he was coming in I noticed all the small sticks that were sticking up in my shooting lanes so I let him come further than I had planned. When he was at the last shooting lane I called to stop him and had to hug real tight to an aspen tree. Well...I hit that aspen tree. Luckily the arrow didn’t deflect and hit the bull but ricocheted hard right. Ten days hunting elk and now two misses. Neither miss was due to being inaccurate so that made me feel better but there were still things I could’ve done different and I didn’t, so that made things slightly discouraging.
The weekend after I headed to the high country for deer and returned to the elk woods the morning of September 21st. On my way up the mountain, in the predawn hours, I wanted to hunt the location where I last saw that big bull on Labor Day. I parked the truck and bugled....nothing. I went another half mile and bugled into another basin and was answered by a bull in the nastiness, meanest hole in my little area. Honestly I went, “well you sound small. Too small for me to drop into there this morning.” I had never had the sound of a bugle talk me out of dropping into a basin but for whatever reason, it did that morning. I went another quarter mile to bugle into another basin...nothing.
Finally I drove as far as I wanted to go, walked to the top of the hill and was greeted with a gnarly bugle below me. I was caught off guard and couldn’t figure out where exactly the bugle came from. I cow called a couple times and was able to pinpoint him. The morning thermals were sending my scent downhill right to him so I immediately headed up the spine of the ridge. When I thought I was past him enough I dropped straight down, got even with him on the ridge and side hilled back towards him. He was bugling intermittently the whole way, making him easy to keep tabs on. I got to where I knew I was in his bubble, I just had to “do this right” and set up correctly. All my walking at this point had been done in the dark timber, and having hunted this area plenty in the past, I knew this bull was in or around some meadows I knew well. As I was stuck in this moment of “what do I do next” I was in some more sparsely placed trees. I could see probably 150 yards with relative ease. I struggled with the thought of setting up there but knew he was just out of sight and could get nervous not being able to see the elk that was going to call to him.
I bumped up. When I bumped up I saw one of the meadows I know well so I figured I better go take a look and make sure he wasn’t in it. I got just about to the edge of the meadow but still in the trees a bit as I looked up and saw one of the most beautiful sites I’ve ever seen. There he was in all his glory on the other side of the meadow and along the tree line. We had seemingly arrived at the edge of the meadow at the same time as I spotted him as he entered it just as I stopped to scan around. He then stopped and let out a lip bawl that shook me to my core.
In a stroke of luck, here he came. Right across the meadow and right towards me. Remember I haven’t called to this bull at all except for 20 minutes before at the top of the ridge. He was on a trot and I immediately knocked an arrow and remember being in shock by how quick he was cutting the distance. I also remember missing my d loop with my release twice! Being just inside the tree line of this opening worked great as I was able to range as he was coming at me. I don’t honestly remember if I ranged it before I attached my release or after but I ranged a tree in front of me at 19 yards. It felt like he was there immediately moving right to left and I cow called to stop him when he cleared that pine. When he stopped it wasn’t dead in his tracks, but instead he took a few steps almost toward me. He was very close to giving me a perfect frontal, but I’ll be honest, it was not perfect. In the moment, I elected to take the shot. I hurriedly put my pin between the point of his right shoulder and his wind pipe. I let it go...and was sick. The arrow penetrated fully but it was lower than I wanted. Such things happen on a hurried shot I guess.
I watched him spin and go back towards where he came from. I came back to reality and stopped him as quick as I could and stepped out from behind all the trees while loading another arrow. He stopped at 80 yards but gave me nothing but a Texas heart shot of which I elected to pass. I really wasn’t sure that this bull was mortally wounded and I wasn’t going to pin cushion him. I stopped him repeatedly as he made his way to the far side of the meadow, praying he would tip over. He never looked sick as he got to the far side of the meadow and made his way into the trees. I was immediately angry. 11 days hunting elk and I wound the biggest bull I’d seen all season. Remember i’d already missed two. I was just mad. I couldn’t believe I tried that frontal shot, I couldn’t believe the mistakes I made, and I remember being mad that I just robbed somebody else the chance at this awesome bull because I decided to take a shot that wasn’t a sure thing. It didn’t sit well with me and after throwing all my things down and sitting there for a bit, the responsibility of my actions took over. I knew I had to give everything I had to find this bull. I had a blessing and a curse in a small skiff of snow. It was just enough to make the ground white so I knew if it got warm I’d have to hurry and take up the track and if it decides to snow some more I’d need to do the same thing. I went to where the bull was standing and found no blood. I followed his tracks to where I stopped him the first time and nothing. I followed him to where I saw him disappear into the timber and again...no blood. At some point when I was in the middle of that meadow I heard what sounded like a groan. I heard that sound when my bull died in 2017 and was hoping my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. The wind was blowing when I heard the noise so I wasn’t 100% sure it wasn’t a tall pine groaning in the wind. It gave me hope but I wasn’t sold on it. I do remember stopping the next few times the wind blew and never heard that sound again. It gave me hope, but my mood had not improved.
Wanting to give this bull as much time as I could I went back to where I hit him thinking maybe my arrow did exit somehow. I didn’t find my arrow but I did find fresh elk tracks from at least one cow and a calf. Side note- I think I put myself in the right place at the right time that morning. That bull somehow lost those cows. There’s some wallows down in the bottom and I think he went down there and his cows were gone when he got back up to the meadows. I don’t know if my cow calls early in the morning got him moving or not, but I do know I inadvertently put myself 21 yards from where those cows exited that meadow that morning.
Back to the blood trail or lack there of. I looked around at the tracks and I re followed his tracks back to the edge of the timber. Still no blood. I couldn’t find any little pin drop, and I had snow. If memory serves me right I waited about an hour and 45 minutes before it started to snow. It started snowing hard enough that I was worried about it covering the only sign I had in his tracks. I started back on the trail. It was easy to follow and headed for the small bench I heard the groaning coming from. As I followed his tracks onto that bench I was met with the site of a fully expired bull. I’m not ashamed to say I broke down. I was mad at my decisions and dealing with a guilty pit in my stomach. When I saw him laying there all those emotions changed very quickly. I was so very thankful that my prayers were answered, that everything worked out, and that he actually didn’t appear to have suffered at all. I had my moment with the bull and began the solo picture taking and meat cutting job.
