dcopas78
Well-known member
First off I want to start out by thanking a few members on here that gave me some good advice through PMs when I asked for information on this hunt.
Dad and I were fortunate enough to draw 3rd season rifle tags for the unit. I scheduled my vacation at work so that I could get there the Tuesday before season started. It was a quick summer, spent mostly trying to get my right foot healthy for the trip. I didn't get much conditioning in because of a nagging case of plantar fasciitis. I found out on August 1 that I also had a 5 cm tear in the peroneus brevis tendon. At that point, I figured my season would be over before it even began. Luckily, I have a renowned podiatrist for our area that has been working with me. She told me that I had two options; surgery with tendon grafting or I could try platelet-rich plasma injections. Unfortunately, this procedure wasn't covered by insurance as it is still considered experimental. I fronted the $2200 for injections in both the tendon and the fascia. The procedure was done on August 16 and I started rehab after 2 weeks of non-weight bearing on August 30. I couldn't be happier with the results I have had with it, albeit I am still not quite 100%.
Anyways, to the hunt. Dad and I arrived in Tuesday evening and got a quick setup on the wall tent for the night, placed down the floor, got the cots setup and sleeping bags out and were both out for the night before it was even fully dark. Wednesday was the last day of 2nd season, so we didn't do much walking around so as not to mess up anyone hunting. We spent Thursday and Friday scouting out areas that I had gotten some good information on. We also talked to a few ranchers who were getting their cattle gathered up who had some good info on where they were seeing elk.
We checked out a total of 4 locations that I had 'computer' scouted on Thursday/Friday and all turned up elk. We found a really nice setup leading up to a saddle that was loaded with fresh sign. There was a good stand of oak brush that we could overlook from an opposite hillside with between 200-450 yard shots. We decided this would be our 1st day location as any pressure on top where we had saw other people and camps, would more than likely result in them pushing elk out somewhere and hopefully that was down through the brush we were watching.
We got up to the hillside before daylight and got setup for the morning. About five minutes before the sun crested the ridge, a group of three people started up the valley. They looked up at us, walked past us about 80 yards and headed directly through the brush. Guess that is just public land hunting. Unfortunately for us, a few minutes later the people hunting the top opened up and that was that for the 1st morning.
That afternoon, we headed to an area down in the pinion and juniper that we had scouted out that looked promising. I left dad to over look a small clearing with elk sign heading in both directions. The weather forecast was for unseasonably warm weather so I figured I would go off in search of a hidden water source, all the while keeping the wind to my face and still hunting down off the finger ridges with the hopes of surprising a big bull. It was dry and crunchy so it was tough going.
I got about a 1/2 mile from dad down a ridge when I caught a flash of movement on the other side of a small group of pinion in front of me. I brought the gun up in time to see a blond elk turning and bounding off down the side of the hill. I could hear his rack hitting off of the brush, but never did get a clear shot. I was ecstatic anyways! SO close to that elusive first bull elk.
Dad and I decided that we would hunt this area again the second day with the same strategy; that we would go in after legal shooting light and slow hunt down the ridges. I knew that his chances of success just sitting were slim, but I set him up on another area overlooking an opposite side slope covered in sign the next day. At 71, it is noticeable how much he has slowed down over the last few years. I headed out to find a water source with the temperatures in the 70s. It was noticeably hot out, which I knew would mean they would be in the cool brush/timber bedded up. I headed down another canyon parallel to the one I had hunted the evening before. Again the goal was to find water, and hopefully still hunt my way into a bull elk.
I was covering ground at a snail's pace. Around 11:00, I smelled elk really strong. Stronger than I had ever smelled them before. I knew I was right on top of a group. I noticed a small patch of oak brush and just KNEW that that was where they were. I started to circle up the sidehill to get above the brush so as to look down through it. Unfortunately, I got careless in my excitement and snapped a small dead branch on my pack. Immediately the brush exploded with elk! I grabbed my cow call and gave out a few calls and started walking directly toward where they came out of the brush. As I got there, I noticed an elk standing 60 yards from me, broadside with not a twig in the way. I brought up my gun and saw that it was a spike, which wasn't legal on this hunt. But to have a bull in the crosshairs literally made my day and dad's when I told him about it later.
I kept hunting down the canyon and finally found the water hole later that afternoon. Now I had a place that dad could sit where I thought there was a real chance he could get his bull.
The next morning, dad and I circled the water hole and came in with the wind to our faces. By earlier afternoon, the wind was swirling a dozen different directions with a front moving in. This wasn't conducive to good elk hunting at all. It was a dud day, but we were hopeful that the next day would have a more consistent wind for us to hunt.
However, this just wasn't to be as that evening I got a call from my wife saying the my 2 going on 3 years old son had to be admitted to Cincinnati Children's with breathing issues again, the fourth time in about a year. He has asthma. She told me it was fine and that we should continue the hunt because her mom/dad and my mom where making sure they were available to help. This dampened the mood however, and dad insisted that we get home ASAP. We packed up camp and that was that. We headed out with 2 days left in the season. Some may consider this a failed trip but I honestly think that it was the best trip I have been on with my dad. We weren't successful at bringing meat home but we got to see some beautiful country and both learned a ton in the process. Until next year, Adios to the great West!
Overlooking the canyons we hunted
The waterhole
Dad on watch at the water
Dad's nightly Scripture study. I've never saw him miss a day no matter where we are at.
Dad and I were fortunate enough to draw 3rd season rifle tags for the unit. I scheduled my vacation at work so that I could get there the Tuesday before season started. It was a quick summer, spent mostly trying to get my right foot healthy for the trip. I didn't get much conditioning in because of a nagging case of plantar fasciitis. I found out on August 1 that I also had a 5 cm tear in the peroneus brevis tendon. At that point, I figured my season would be over before it even began. Luckily, I have a renowned podiatrist for our area that has been working with me. She told me that I had two options; surgery with tendon grafting or I could try platelet-rich plasma injections. Unfortunately, this procedure wasn't covered by insurance as it is still considered experimental. I fronted the $2200 for injections in both the tendon and the fascia. The procedure was done on August 16 and I started rehab after 2 weeks of non-weight bearing on August 30. I couldn't be happier with the results I have had with it, albeit I am still not quite 100%.
Anyways, to the hunt. Dad and I arrived in Tuesday evening and got a quick setup on the wall tent for the night, placed down the floor, got the cots setup and sleeping bags out and were both out for the night before it was even fully dark. Wednesday was the last day of 2nd season, so we didn't do much walking around so as not to mess up anyone hunting. We spent Thursday and Friday scouting out areas that I had gotten some good information on. We also talked to a few ranchers who were getting their cattle gathered up who had some good info on where they were seeing elk.
We checked out a total of 4 locations that I had 'computer' scouted on Thursday/Friday and all turned up elk. We found a really nice setup leading up to a saddle that was loaded with fresh sign. There was a good stand of oak brush that we could overlook from an opposite hillside with between 200-450 yard shots. We decided this would be our 1st day location as any pressure on top where we had saw other people and camps, would more than likely result in them pushing elk out somewhere and hopefully that was down through the brush we were watching.
We got up to the hillside before daylight and got setup for the morning. About five minutes before the sun crested the ridge, a group of three people started up the valley. They looked up at us, walked past us about 80 yards and headed directly through the brush. Guess that is just public land hunting. Unfortunately for us, a few minutes later the people hunting the top opened up and that was that for the 1st morning.
That afternoon, we headed to an area down in the pinion and juniper that we had scouted out that looked promising. I left dad to over look a small clearing with elk sign heading in both directions. The weather forecast was for unseasonably warm weather so I figured I would go off in search of a hidden water source, all the while keeping the wind to my face and still hunting down off the finger ridges with the hopes of surprising a big bull. It was dry and crunchy so it was tough going.
I got about a 1/2 mile from dad down a ridge when I caught a flash of movement on the other side of a small group of pinion in front of me. I brought the gun up in time to see a blond elk turning and bounding off down the side of the hill. I could hear his rack hitting off of the brush, but never did get a clear shot. I was ecstatic anyways! SO close to that elusive first bull elk.
Dad and I decided that we would hunt this area again the second day with the same strategy; that we would go in after legal shooting light and slow hunt down the ridges. I knew that his chances of success just sitting were slim, but I set him up on another area overlooking an opposite side slope covered in sign the next day. At 71, it is noticeable how much he has slowed down over the last few years. I headed out to find a water source with the temperatures in the 70s. It was noticeably hot out, which I knew would mean they would be in the cool brush/timber bedded up. I headed down another canyon parallel to the one I had hunted the evening before. Again the goal was to find water, and hopefully still hunt my way into a bull elk.
I was covering ground at a snail's pace. Around 11:00, I smelled elk really strong. Stronger than I had ever smelled them before. I knew I was right on top of a group. I noticed a small patch of oak brush and just KNEW that that was where they were. I started to circle up the sidehill to get above the brush so as to look down through it. Unfortunately, I got careless in my excitement and snapped a small dead branch on my pack. Immediately the brush exploded with elk! I grabbed my cow call and gave out a few calls and started walking directly toward where they came out of the brush. As I got there, I noticed an elk standing 60 yards from me, broadside with not a twig in the way. I brought up my gun and saw that it was a spike, which wasn't legal on this hunt. But to have a bull in the crosshairs literally made my day and dad's when I told him about it later.
I kept hunting down the canyon and finally found the water hole later that afternoon. Now I had a place that dad could sit where I thought there was a real chance he could get his bull.
The next morning, dad and I circled the water hole and came in with the wind to our faces. By earlier afternoon, the wind was swirling a dozen different directions with a front moving in. This wasn't conducive to good elk hunting at all. It was a dud day, but we were hopeful that the next day would have a more consistent wind for us to hunt.
However, this just wasn't to be as that evening I got a call from my wife saying the my 2 going on 3 years old son had to be admitted to Cincinnati Children's with breathing issues again, the fourth time in about a year. He has asthma. She told me it was fine and that we should continue the hunt because her mom/dad and my mom where making sure they were available to help. This dampened the mood however, and dad insisted that we get home ASAP. We packed up camp and that was that. We headed out with 2 days left in the season. Some may consider this a failed trip but I honestly think that it was the best trip I have been on with my dad. We weren't successful at bringing meat home but we got to see some beautiful country and both learned a ton in the process. Until next year, Adios to the great West!
Overlooking the canyons we hunted
The waterhole
Dad on watch at the water
Dad's nightly Scripture study. I've never saw him miss a day no matter where we are at.
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