BlakeA
Well-known member
After shooting thousands of arrows throughout the year, running hundreds of miles, and training hard at the gym, I felt the most confident physically and mentally I have ever felt going into the mountains after Elk this September. Just knowing that you did as much as you could to prepare yourself for a hunt does wonders for a guys psyche. I don't own a horse and don't hunt by ATV trails so I know that if I'm lucky enough to get an opportunity to release an arrow and I'm successful, it's going to be all on my legs, back, and feet to get the meat into my freezer.
This year I was planning on going solo but one of my best friends who had never been on an elk hunt in the mountains before wanted to join me and I was more than happy to have him come with. A storm had started as we made our way to MT and by the time we reached our destination it was almost a white out. It was NASTY. Thankfully we each have the proper clothing and gear to weather storms like that. After enjoying the heat from inside the vehicle and a few good tunes for a few minutes, we locked the truck with our packs loaded heavy and headed into the mountains. The temps weren't bad during the day but visibility was awful due to fog and sleet/snowflakes hitting you in the face the entire hike. After setting up camp we ate a quick snack and then tried to glass that evening but the fog was too much.
That first night was literally the most brutal night of both our lives. You know the saying "it could always be worse"? Well now I have a prime example haha. Maybe we are just pansys but wow....it was miserable. I THOUGHT my sleeping bag was good but I was wrong as the minute I crawled in it it seemed damp. Our clothes were dry for the most part but our boots were just soaked from all the rain (lightweight 400 gr.). The temps dropped dramatically and it hurt to expose your skin in the middle of the night. When my alarm went off at 4:30 we were both wide awake pissed off and ready to hunt. Just sick of "trying" to sleep. Since our boots were wet/damp and the temps dropped, the froze over night.....so we had to take turns unthawing them with the flame from our jetboil propane cylinder. Not fun.
The weather stayed crappy the next 2 days but we were seeing elk which made it a lot of fun. We closed into 81 yards on a great six point but 1 of his 10 cows busted us and it was over. About mid day of day 3 the weather was beautiful and everything was melting, and melting fast. It made for slick traction but anything was better then night #1 in the tent haha. We had hiked and covered a ton of ground the 3 full hunting days we had and we were having a great hunt even though the bulls were silent. We were turning up bulls in some nasty pockets feeding in the sun once the weather had broke.
On the evening of our last full day of hunting I heard a distant bugle on a ridgeline about an hour and a half before sun down. It was a ways away but I was full of energy and ready to go after him. He let out a few more as we got closer so I was able to tell which pocket he was in. The wind died down and the iced up snow made for VERY loud stalking conditions in some spots through the timber. After going silent for a while and having gotten as close as I thought I could get undetected I let out a few cow calls. Three bulls answered and 2 of them were close. Really close. I could hear some raking on the trees, and a few cows mewing. I decided to let out a bugle and they went nuts. The bull that sounded the loudest and most pissed off was coming closer. He would bugle and then I would match his and then the next time cut him off. He got to what I would guess to be 50 yards in the timber where I still couldn't see him when I let out the most cocky/nastiest bugle I could do and he came crashing through the trees. Immediately after I bugled and heard him I pulled back and held my draw in an opening that was 30 yards from me. I could see out of the corner of my eye movement and his feet coming right down that path. I could feel the soft breeze in my face and see the tips of his antlers as he came in screaming at 28 yards. The second his front leg opened up and gave me a broadside shot I touched off and absolutely drilled him. He bounded off and I took a knee. At that very moment a lot of things come into your mind. I was SO thankful that the good lord provided me with a good clean shot opportunity after such an intense experience. When you are successful doing something you wait for, think of, obsess over, and train so hard for all year long it is a powerful feeling. That's with anything in life, not just hunting/fishing experiences. My buddy had been about 50 yards behind me and came up to me immediately after the shot shaking. He goes "I literally can't stop shaking...we just had 3 pissed off bulls screaming at us and surrounding us....this is the coolest thing I've ever witnessed." Standing there on top of that mountain with a bloody arrow and the sun setting in the background is a feeling I will never forget. Sharing it with one of your lifelong best friends who introduced you to archery at 15 years old is even more special. I will be forever grateful to him for that.
The bull went 56 yards from where I shot him and after saying a few words to the big guy up stairs we began the process of pictures and the packout. We knew we were in for a long night and next day but we were prepared for it.
This was the best hunt of my life and I am just thankful to have the health and the freedom to do it on public land on my own. Hopefully some day I can repay the favor and help pack out a bull for him. What an adventure!!!!
This year I was planning on going solo but one of my best friends who had never been on an elk hunt in the mountains before wanted to join me and I was more than happy to have him come with. A storm had started as we made our way to MT and by the time we reached our destination it was almost a white out. It was NASTY. Thankfully we each have the proper clothing and gear to weather storms like that. After enjoying the heat from inside the vehicle and a few good tunes for a few minutes, we locked the truck with our packs loaded heavy and headed into the mountains. The temps weren't bad during the day but visibility was awful due to fog and sleet/snowflakes hitting you in the face the entire hike. After setting up camp we ate a quick snack and then tried to glass that evening but the fog was too much.
That first night was literally the most brutal night of both our lives. You know the saying "it could always be worse"? Well now I have a prime example haha. Maybe we are just pansys but wow....it was miserable. I THOUGHT my sleeping bag was good but I was wrong as the minute I crawled in it it seemed damp. Our clothes were dry for the most part but our boots were just soaked from all the rain (lightweight 400 gr.). The temps dropped dramatically and it hurt to expose your skin in the middle of the night. When my alarm went off at 4:30 we were both wide awake pissed off and ready to hunt. Just sick of "trying" to sleep. Since our boots were wet/damp and the temps dropped, the froze over night.....so we had to take turns unthawing them with the flame from our jetboil propane cylinder. Not fun.
The weather stayed crappy the next 2 days but we were seeing elk which made it a lot of fun. We closed into 81 yards on a great six point but 1 of his 10 cows busted us and it was over. About mid day of day 3 the weather was beautiful and everything was melting, and melting fast. It made for slick traction but anything was better then night #1 in the tent haha. We had hiked and covered a ton of ground the 3 full hunting days we had and we were having a great hunt even though the bulls were silent. We were turning up bulls in some nasty pockets feeding in the sun once the weather had broke.
On the evening of our last full day of hunting I heard a distant bugle on a ridgeline about an hour and a half before sun down. It was a ways away but I was full of energy and ready to go after him. He let out a few more as we got closer so I was able to tell which pocket he was in. The wind died down and the iced up snow made for VERY loud stalking conditions in some spots through the timber. After going silent for a while and having gotten as close as I thought I could get undetected I let out a few cow calls. Three bulls answered and 2 of them were close. Really close. I could hear some raking on the trees, and a few cows mewing. I decided to let out a bugle and they went nuts. The bull that sounded the loudest and most pissed off was coming closer. He would bugle and then I would match his and then the next time cut him off. He got to what I would guess to be 50 yards in the timber where I still couldn't see him when I let out the most cocky/nastiest bugle I could do and he came crashing through the trees. Immediately after I bugled and heard him I pulled back and held my draw in an opening that was 30 yards from me. I could see out of the corner of my eye movement and his feet coming right down that path. I could feel the soft breeze in my face and see the tips of his antlers as he came in screaming at 28 yards. The second his front leg opened up and gave me a broadside shot I touched off and absolutely drilled him. He bounded off and I took a knee. At that very moment a lot of things come into your mind. I was SO thankful that the good lord provided me with a good clean shot opportunity after such an intense experience. When you are successful doing something you wait for, think of, obsess over, and train so hard for all year long it is a powerful feeling. That's with anything in life, not just hunting/fishing experiences. My buddy had been about 50 yards behind me and came up to me immediately after the shot shaking. He goes "I literally can't stop shaking...we just had 3 pissed off bulls screaming at us and surrounding us....this is the coolest thing I've ever witnessed." Standing there on top of that mountain with a bloody arrow and the sun setting in the background is a feeling I will never forget. Sharing it with one of your lifelong best friends who introduced you to archery at 15 years old is even more special. I will be forever grateful to him for that.
The bull went 56 yards from where I shot him and after saying a few words to the big guy up stairs we began the process of pictures and the packout. We knew we were in for a long night and next day but we were prepared for it.
This was the best hunt of my life and I am just thankful to have the health and the freedom to do it on public land on my own. Hopefully some day I can repay the favor and help pack out a bull for him. What an adventure!!!!
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Funny how that works. Congrats on the bull.
