Being a Colorado resident I had an either sex first season rifle tag this year as well as a late season “special” cow tag.
First season was a bit of a rough one, camping at 10000 feet, 3 miles back from the end of an unmaintained road, in the snow and didn’t see much. Spotted one group of elk on the third day, including the bull of a lifetime. They were about a mile away and 1000 vertical feet. They were steadily moving across the hillside so we made a move for it. We never caught up, we tracked them into the blow down and did all we could. We never saw them again, that first season ended in tag soup for my hunting partner and I.
Just under two months later my cow tag was coming up. The unit I was hunting had two sections of public land that totaled less than 4000 acres all together. I went out scouting the week before the season and hiked up about two miles in thigh deep snow to check out a spot I thought would be great. Saw two tracks within glassing distance.
As the sun started to set I looked across the valley to the other section, much mellower terrain, more open meadows, and surely 10 times the people on opening day, there were tracks everywhere, and spotted a half dozen cows as the sun went down. The boot skiing excursion back down to the truck was much more enjoyable than the hike up.
On December 1st I was out the door at four. I picked up a friend on the way and we were on the trail by 5. The part I haven’t mentioned yet is that this is the closest elk hunting to Denver, we wanted something we could do half day hunts since it was the second/backup tag for the year. We hiked in about 2.5 miles to the back corner of the chunk of property and waited for the sun to rise. About 15 minutes after first shooting light it began... One group after the other crested the ridge half way between us and the road. One group after another, each posting up on the ridge about 200 yards from each other, likely not knowing how close they were to one another.
I counted 22 people I believe all within one square mile. My heart sank, the quick little fun hunt was going to be a bust. The wind was howling, and then out of the corner of my eye I saw something move across a small valley from me. One cow, then a spike, and then another cow. There they were, just like I was hoping. I dove into the snow, prone and ready to shoot as they passed between the trees. I ranged them, 300, 500, 800, 560, 340... I don’t know what was going on but with the wind and the lack of consistency with the range finder I knew I had to close the distance.
They were working NE towards a small cliff band, I thought, maybe I can cut them off before the cliff band. I booked it straight up hill through the timber. I was about 150 yards from the cliffs when I saw them, 125. I had to re-set six times because they were so stacked on top of each other that I couldn’t get a clear shot, as soon as I found a single cow in a clearing I took the shot. Quartering always and snuck it behind the close shoulder and in front of the far shoulder. No meat loss.
This is when it got interesting. She went down within ten yards, stone dead. As I punched my tag I looked across the valley and noticed someone glassing us with their rifle scope. Pissed, I started to heat up some coffee and start cutting. After the first quarter was off I looked over and the same shit happened again. I couldn’t believe it. The fact that I saw it happen twice probably means it happened more than that.
We then hiked the meat out on a grueling 2 mile pack out. The snow made for a rough hike so we did it in two trips. The snowshoe/hiking trails in this area had a variety of boot pack, snow shoes, freeze/thaw, and wind drifts. Every step seemed to be different consistency or height with the occasional post hole.
I think we passed 25-30 hikers/snow shoers, and 8 dogs in our two trips. Most stopped and talked, asked if we saw anything. I felt like saying no, the blood all over my pant leg and big white bag covered in blood on my pack is just the new fad for endurance hikers. Besides the obvious questions we had a lot of good conversations though and educated a lot of people on tags, animals, and hunting.
To top it all off, I went to check out with the ranger, she asked how the day went and if we saw anything. I told her I got a cow elk and she almost fell out of her chair. Got up and looked me straight in the face and said that doesn’t happen often. Everyone else that checked out told her they didn’t see a living animal. I think we were just surrounded by a bunch of people trying to teach themselves how to hunt, at least I hope that’s their excuse. We saw 3 different deer, also in season, stroll within 50 yard of different groups and they never turned around once to see the deer walk right by them.
There is meat in the freezer! Got to educate some non hunters. But the rodeo of people and the multiple rifles pointed at me makes me miss my back woods trips, even if I come home empty handed.
First season was a bit of a rough one, camping at 10000 feet, 3 miles back from the end of an unmaintained road, in the snow and didn’t see much. Spotted one group of elk on the third day, including the bull of a lifetime. They were about a mile away and 1000 vertical feet. They were steadily moving across the hillside so we made a move for it. We never caught up, we tracked them into the blow down and did all we could. We never saw them again, that first season ended in tag soup for my hunting partner and I.
Just under two months later my cow tag was coming up. The unit I was hunting had two sections of public land that totaled less than 4000 acres all together. I went out scouting the week before the season and hiked up about two miles in thigh deep snow to check out a spot I thought would be great. Saw two tracks within glassing distance.
As the sun started to set I looked across the valley to the other section, much mellower terrain, more open meadows, and surely 10 times the people on opening day, there were tracks everywhere, and spotted a half dozen cows as the sun went down. The boot skiing excursion back down to the truck was much more enjoyable than the hike up.
On December 1st I was out the door at four. I picked up a friend on the way and we were on the trail by 5. The part I haven’t mentioned yet is that this is the closest elk hunting to Denver, we wanted something we could do half day hunts since it was the second/backup tag for the year. We hiked in about 2.5 miles to the back corner of the chunk of property and waited for the sun to rise. About 15 minutes after first shooting light it began... One group after the other crested the ridge half way between us and the road. One group after another, each posting up on the ridge about 200 yards from each other, likely not knowing how close they were to one another.
I counted 22 people I believe all within one square mile. My heart sank, the quick little fun hunt was going to be a bust. The wind was howling, and then out of the corner of my eye I saw something move across a small valley from me. One cow, then a spike, and then another cow. There they were, just like I was hoping. I dove into the snow, prone and ready to shoot as they passed between the trees. I ranged them, 300, 500, 800, 560, 340... I don’t know what was going on but with the wind and the lack of consistency with the range finder I knew I had to close the distance.
They were working NE towards a small cliff band, I thought, maybe I can cut them off before the cliff band. I booked it straight up hill through the timber. I was about 150 yards from the cliffs when I saw them, 125. I had to re-set six times because they were so stacked on top of each other that I couldn’t get a clear shot, as soon as I found a single cow in a clearing I took the shot. Quartering always and snuck it behind the close shoulder and in front of the far shoulder. No meat loss.
This is when it got interesting. She went down within ten yards, stone dead. As I punched my tag I looked across the valley and noticed someone glassing us with their rifle scope. Pissed, I started to heat up some coffee and start cutting. After the first quarter was off I looked over and the same shit happened again. I couldn’t believe it. The fact that I saw it happen twice probably means it happened more than that.
We then hiked the meat out on a grueling 2 mile pack out. The snow made for a rough hike so we did it in two trips. The snowshoe/hiking trails in this area had a variety of boot pack, snow shoes, freeze/thaw, and wind drifts. Every step seemed to be different consistency or height with the occasional post hole.
I think we passed 25-30 hikers/snow shoers, and 8 dogs in our two trips. Most stopped and talked, asked if we saw anything. I felt like saying no, the blood all over my pant leg and big white bag covered in blood on my pack is just the new fad for endurance hikers. Besides the obvious questions we had a lot of good conversations though and educated a lot of people on tags, animals, and hunting.
To top it all off, I went to check out with the ranger, she asked how the day went and if we saw anything. I told her I got a cow elk and she almost fell out of her chair. Got up and looked me straight in the face and said that doesn’t happen often. Everyone else that checked out told her they didn’t see a living animal. I think we were just surrounded by a bunch of people trying to teach themselves how to hunt, at least I hope that’s their excuse. We saw 3 different deer, also in season, stroll within 50 yard of different groups and they never turned around once to see the deer walk right by them.
There is meat in the freezer! Got to educate some non hunters. But the rodeo of people and the multiple rifles pointed at me makes me miss my back woods trips, even if I come home empty handed.
