Caribou Gear

Muzzleloader Mania - Part 1 - Foggy Bottom Bull

That’s a clear image, what were you using?
If you have to ask, you can't afford it... just kidding, it's a real bargain basement setup.

Kowa TSN501 20-40x scope, which I like because it's super small and lightweight; Amazon Basics 50 inch tripod, which is a whopping $12.99 and one of the lightest tripods out there (the panhead is a complete piece of crap though); and my android, wobbling freehand over the scope. It only looks good because those bulls were 600ish yards away.
 
Back to the summer scouting adventures...

I looked at a bunch of basins over the summer, and found elk in almost all of them. It was almost too much of a good thing, and initially I struggled with where to focus my time come September.

Here are a few highlights:
One of the most frustrating things to watch was recreational hikers bumping large cow calf herds like the one below, which had balled up in response to a couple and their unleashed dog walking blissfully below them, unaware of the chaos they were causing 500 ft of elevation above them. I know it's an unavoidable conflict sometimes, but it was hard to watch. Unleashed dumbass dogs however, not unavoidable.
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The above photo was one of my favorite basins I looked at, and I located bulls and cow groups in it. It ended up being a plan B that I didn't end up needing. Still shocked I didn't locate any bucks in there, the habitat looked perfect.

The below crappy photo is one of the biggest bulls I spotted, an awesome framed 6x6 that I wouldnt have been surprised if he had a 7th point starting in September. Unfortunately, he was just over the border into a neighboring unit that I was unable to hunt on my tag.
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In deciding where to focus my efforts come hunting season, I tried to think about 3 factors:
1) avoiding obvious hunting and recreational pressure, both of which are fairly predictable
2) where I could get a bull out of by myself
3) where the cows were/where the alpine bulls would end up when the rut kicked off

That led me to a fairly non descript timbered basin, in which I had seen 6 bull moose, a couple dozen cows, and a really nice bachelor group of bulls pictured below. This basin had a trail going into it, but there was no destination that recreationalists would target, and it was about 6 miles from any trailhead.

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I'll fast forward to just before Labor Day. I was feeling great, with plans A through E ready to go. It was around this time that our daughters sleep schedule decided to throw a major wrench into our developed routines and my confidence going into what would be the first nights away from the family this year. As someone that regularly spends 30+ nights a year sleeping outdoors, this was a big change for me this year, and my wife was supportive of our plan for the hunt, but...sleep deprivation is a HELL of a drug.

I had planned on doing a one night, two day scouting trip over Labor Day weekend, but that became an impossibility due to conditions at home. My wife would spend hours awake each night with our daughter, and it would have been truly unfair to expect her to care for her for 48 hrs with her getting less than a couple hours sleep each night. Thus, I stayed home, we had a great weekend as a family. An added bonus, my daughter began to push through whatever sleep regression she was experiencing, and began to reestablish her routines.

Go....to....sleep!
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Going into the hunt, my goal was simply a branch antlered bull. However this unit has no antler point restrictions, and due to the unpredictability at home, I quickly came to terms with the fact that any legal bull would do.
 
Meanwhile, while I was neck deep in the trenches trying to coerce naps at home over Labor Day weekend...

This jabroni backpacked into my chosen campsite, stood around in his long longjohns at 8 am, and turned off my trail camera. At least he didn't steal it I guess? But still...dick move. Would've been happy for him to look at the pics, but it left me a little blind in terms of activity the last week before the hunt itself, which I feel is the most crucial trail camera info to have in terms of movements of bulls following cows.

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To the hunt! I left work at 3 pm Friday, zoomed to the trailhead, only stopping to pick up ice, and started hiking by 5:30. I was thrilled to see only one car at the trailhead, clearly not a hunter. The forecast called for rain and fog, and it did not disappoint.

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Crossing the ridgeline about a mile from my destination campsite, a lone bugle ripped off downhill from me. This was about halfway from the basin I was planning on hunting, and the trail camera with the bachelor group I had pictures of before. There is no greater sound in the woods than a bugle within hours of opening morning. My excitement meter was turned up to 11.

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To be continued and concluded later tonight.
 
Meanwhile, while I was neck deep in the trenches trying to coerce naps at home over Labor Day weekend...

This jabroni backpacked into my chosen campsite, stood around in his long longjohns at 8 am, and turned off my trail camera. At least he didn't steal it I guess? But still...dick move. Would've been happy for him to look at the pics, but it left me a little blind in terms of activity the last week before the hunt itself, which I feel is the most crucial trail camera info to have in terms of movements of bulls following cows.

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I bet that's @Stocker :) jk bro
 
The night before the hunt was rainy, so much so that I would have been unable to hear bugles if there were any. I was camped in the timber on a ridge between a grassy saddle and a rocky point, where I had glassed from over the summer. I woke at 5, packed up, and headed to the rocky point, knowing that despite being unable to glass, I could try and listen for bugles.

The morning was as still as could be, and completely socked in. I sat for close to an hour, until just before legal shooting light, considering my options. There was not a sound except the dripping of moisture from the trees around me. I broke the silence with a single bugle, which got no response. The obvious answer would be to play the wind.

I made my way off the rocks and began to work my way slowly into the basin I had come here to hunt, in the opposite direction from the bugle I had heard the night before. With the night's rain, the forest floor was nearly totally silent to walk through. Between the steady and consistent breeze, the silent ground, and visibility limited to about 100 yards in the timber, the conditions for still hunting were just about perfect.

View from the saddle, the fog got thicker as I went downhill into the timber:
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45 minutes of slow creeping later, I was in the bottom of the basin. Every 15 minutes or so, I let off a soft cow call. I soon came upon a spring, along which was what looked like some fresh tracks. Checking onX, I saw some small meadows coming up in another couple hundred yards. I slowed my creeping down even more, and continued to approach them. As soon as I could see the first opening a hundred yards to my right, I stopped, and let off a couple more cow calls behind me. Almost immediately, I heard a stick pop down towards the meadow. I knelt next to the tree in front of me, peering through the fog.

From the meadow, the dark body of an elk emerged from the fog at 75 yards, approaching me at a quick walk. I raised my muzzleloader, knowing that I'd have to wait for an opening with the thick trees in front of me. The bull continued his route slightly uphill and to my right, moving steadily. I looked ahead of his path, and moved my sights to a 5 ft gap between spruces in the bull's path. He stepped into the gap and I shot.

He took 4 more steps and stood there, looking unsteady. I quickly and quietly reloaded. He began to cough, and fell over. I watched his breathing slow, and he lay motionless within 2 minutes of the shot.

View through the trees of the bull's rear end laying dead:20220910_071228.jpg
 

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