Khunter
Well-known member
agreed. Well??? LOLWell?????
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agreed. Well??? LOLWell?????
Like watching the proverbial oncoming train wreck, I sense profound disappointment looming, but I can't let go of hope that the story ends differently than it might! AAAAUGGH! Go Kansasdad!!By 9 it became evident that there were no stirring elk down below, and there seemed to be nothing coming back to a bedding area from above. There was a little bit of wind picking up, which meant the overhead branches were causing a secondary snow to fall onto the forest floor. Picking myself up, I decided that the thing to do was start moving to find where the elk had been last night by picking up a snow trail.
Moving westerly along the flat I finally cut a trail. Looking at the hayfield, I could see a small elk trail (2-5 maybe?) with small and larger size hoofprints, and lots of loose powdery snow kicked up.
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Excited, I hoped this meant that they were feeding/bedded nearby. I tried to tell which direction the elk had been moving, but it was tricky to decipher. At times it appeared that they were headed towards the bluffs and the creek, and other sections of the trail they were clearly headed away. Clear distinct prints were headed towards the bottoms, while slightly snow drifted prints were heading away from the bottoms. I hoped that meant the most recent movement was towards the creek.
Getting into tracking mode, I crept along as quietly as I could. As the morning was warming, the puffy light snow was beginning to become more dense..... less squeaky and more squishy sounding as I ninja'd my way towards the bluff's edge. I shouldn't have been surprised, but the elk trail took the easiest route from the top to the bottomlands and the creek's edge. I could see where these elk had reached a creek crossing that was fit only for daredevil elk and deer. Super steep drop, with a couple of horizontal roots designed to trip all but the most surefooted, the crossing here didn't find a shoal where crossing would be dry, but appeared to be crossing where the creek could easily be more than the top of my gaiters, so I was going to have to look for another way across if I was to continue to follow these elk.
Looking across the creek, I could see where the trail continued out into the cut soybean field, with everyone still moving in single file. Away from my familiar hunting areas, and towards the area where I had lost and found my wallet in September muzzleloader hunting.
I sat at the crossing for awhile, trying to come up with mid-day and afternoon/evening hunt plans. @kansasson was planning on leaving Wichita for KC mid day, but was still assuring me that he would be able to help in elk retrieval if/when it happened. The hunter who had tipped me off to the "cow party" bedding area said that there was no elk movement showing up on his cellular trail cameras. I hadn't seen any signs of elk other than this small group that seemed to be heading south, so I decided that I too would most likely head south.
Getting back to the SUV, I decided that based on how the road conditions were, I might travel towards the area that I had found my first Ft Riley elk back in my August scouting run, hoping to cut more elk tracks.
As this was Thanksgiving weekend, I had been feeling like I had abandoned my family by leaving Friday afternoon, to attempt to finish my elk hunt with a filled tag. kansasson stayed in Wichita with his pregnant wife along with our youngest daughter/her husband and Mrs kansasdad, while here I was off chasing elk. Conflicted feelings swirled around, almost like the blowing snow I was about to face on the roads today.
I set my alarm for an hour earlier to account for the slower driving times, but I was hoping that I wouldn't end up being the trail breaker all the way back to where I would have my last morning hunt on the post.
Putting on my fleece long underwear bottoms and multiple layers on top, I was on the road 2 1/2 hours before legal shooting time, and slowly made my way onto the recreation area. One set of fresh tracks from a big duelly truck made for decent travel on the side highway to the Fort, and further onto the "old highway" north, with them turning left at the major crossroads, while I was turning right. As I traveled I was trying to see whether I could see an elk trail or highway in the snow, but didn't see anything other than deer and coyote tracks until I made it to the area that I wanted to be focusing on. I did find two trucks parked next to each other, but saw no tracks in the snow, making me think that perhaps they had spent the night here?
I parked and went 150 yards to the west of where I had set up for the cow party the day before, and settled in for the first moments of the day to begin. By this time yesterday I had heard bugling, and lots of crashing around in the bottoms, with cow/calf calling loveliness. Today it was dead silence. No noise of any kind. Like the entire forest had taken a vow of silence.
Far away I could see the Riley county snowplow off in the distance, even seeing some sparks kick up as the plow touched the road, and I was fairly certain that on this Sunday of Thanksgiving I wouldn't be hearing any artillery or machine gun working their auditory assault on my eardrums. It was getting brighter in the eastern sky, but it was going to be a sunless day with the cloud cover sticking around. A stick snapped across the top of the draw that I was sitting on, and out stepped a young buck. I was able to stifle a giggle when it slipped in the snow, splaying its forelegs and nearly touching its chest to the ground as it struggled to maintain its balance. Two more deer followed him, each slipping at the same spot, but not so much as to nearly crash.
And then more silence. No cow party. No bugling. No wind to speak of, and because it wasn't yet warm enough, no dripping drops from the trees overhead.
Yesterday morning I had heard multiple vehicles drive along the tank trail or the paved road just adjacent to it. This morning it seemed like perhaps I had Fort Riley to myself. I sorta wished that there were a few more folks out and about, because I reasoned, might they push up an elk or two who would come seek sanctuary right where I was waiting in ambush?
Like watching the proverbial oncoming train wreck, I sense profound disappointment looming, but I can't let go of hope that the story ends differently than it might! AAAAUGGH! Go kansasdad!!
Been following along, but dying for the finale! However grand or lackluster it may seem to you, we’re all looking forward to it.