OYOA heads to Nevada - any bull will do

[Big Fin]

Day Two - Morning

The second morning started slower than I hoped. I drove back to the far reaches of the unit, climbing the good ridges that afforded great viewing places. In spite of the great looking country and the good glassing points, I did not see anything in the first two hours.

By mid-morning, we had made our way to the spot where the one group of elk had been spotted the previous morning. I told Bernie to wait, and I would hike around the ridge and glass the unburned areas below.

As I rounded the ridge, a coyote was sitting on some rocks looking back at me. I looked down and saw a large number of ravens flying off what looked like a dead elk. I glassed and could see antlers.

I walked down to find a young 5X5 bull laying dead on the grassy open hillside. Not sure how this bull was not recovered. It was hit perfectly. The bull would not have traveled very far with that kind of wound. And, there was not a tree for over a half mile. Not sure how this bull ended up not being retrieved.

Did the hunter not even bother to follow the shot, even in this very open terrain?

Did the hunter find it and decided it was not the size he was looking for?

Did the hunter find it and was intimidated at the prospect of trying to get an entire elk off this hillside and did not know how, or have the means necessary, to quarter and pack this bull the 1000 yards up the hill, or the mile down to the road below?

Who knows. But, to find the bull dead, and rotting from three days in the sun, was kind of disturbing. I had thought about cutting off the head and boiling him out in a Euro mount, but figured the game warder would wonder what I was doing with a dead rotted elk head in my camp, when I didn't have a tag. So, I left him there, and the coyotes and ravens will continue to have a feast.



The good news of the morning was that after leaving the elk and continuing around the south facing ridge, I set up the spotting scope, and in the course of an hour, had three herds of elk bedded on benches below. I walked back to Bernie and told him what I had found. It would take some serious navigating to get around these ridges and move the two miles southeast to the areas these elk would be.

Having seen at least four branch antlered bulls in these groups, it was decided that we would go after them, regardless of the vehicle damage incurred to get Bernie over there. Those of you experienced in traveling what they call "roads" in Nevada, know that a vehicle will suffer greatly on some of the goat trails. The hour it took to travel these short few miles demonstrated why you need a reliable rig to hunt Nevada.

 

[Big Fin]

Day Two - Afternoon

Upon reaching the ridge above where the one group was bedded, I parked the truck and told Bernie I would hike out to the end of the point and glass below to find a way we might be able to get him out to these elk. On my way, I ran into two groups of mule deer. Both being controlled by nice bucks. One buck was beyond anything I have seen in a long time. When you see this episode and the footage of this buck rutting only 150 yards away, you will know why I wished we were deer hunting, rather than elk hunting.

As I reached the end of the ridge, I could see a group of 30+ cows/calves/spikes, and a group of three branch antlered bulls. The biggest being a 6 point, and the other two being five points. The one bull was very cooperative and allowed me to take pictures through the spotting scope.

I watched as the bulls rose from there beds and started grazing down the slope to the waterhole below the cows/calves. It looked like once they dropped over the ridge to the south, I could drive down, within a quarter miles of a rock pile that would give Bernie a possible shooting point.

I raced back to the truck and told Bernie what our options would be. He was excited to know of the rock pile, and insisted we get going, NOW.

Here is a pic of one of the 5 pointers I was able to show Bernie, that I had taken through the spotting scope.



Without further haste, we dropped down the rocky trail to a wash that would hide the truck. I instructed Bernie to start is ascent to the prominent rock pile, and I would grab the packs and gear, and catch up to him before he got there.

I was questioning whether Bernie could make it up this rock pile. Even though it seemed not too difficult, I had watched the last couple days as he struggled to stand for very long, and walking on flat ground was a labor, let alone the uneven rock field that lay between us and the ambush point. Yet, Bernie trudged along, his right leg no being able to bend at the knee. He did not complain, merely asking me to lead the way to where we wanted to set up, and wait for him to get there.

As I reached the top of these rocks, I glassed the pinions below and across the basin. The big herd of cows was bedded and occasionally standing to feed. The bulls were no where to be found, but given the thin strip of trees they were traveling through, I knew we would have a good set up, once Bernie got there.

It pained me to watch Bernie fight the arthritis in his knees and hips. He reached the rocks, and was quite worn from this travel. I asked him if he would be OK. He indicated that the enthusiasm and energy of knowing bulls were nearby, would allow him to crawl to this point, if that it what it took.

I set up my spotting scope and tall tripod to provide Bernie a shooting rest, in the even the bulls worked our way. We sat in the rocks, glassing the cows and discussing how they were our best decoy.

Shortly, we heard a vehicle approaching. The white Dodge stopped above us and glassed the bedded elk. They then drove straight below us, and got out of the vehicle and started making hand gestures that bulls were above us. Thanks for the help fellow hunter, but we already knew that, and didn't need anymore commotion than me and Bernie, and two camera guys, had already created while getting here.

The cows and calves got up and stood at full alert at the other hunters below. Seeing this, the hunters drove off and left us to our elk. Unfortunately, as they drove away, the elk lined out toward the gap uphill and to our right. That would take them right through the timber where the bulls were feeding down.

I told Bernie I would go to the saddle above and act as a bumper to keep the elk in this basin. He agreed with that idea, knowing his knees could not travel the five hundred yards of steep slope above our current position. I left as Bernie was settling in and ranging all his potential shooting lanes.

My thought was to actually get upwind of the elk and hope that they would smell me, and drop back into the basin. I needed to hustle, as moving elk cover a lot of ground.

I had not walked more than 150 yards, when I noticed the but of an elk to my left. I stopped. The three bulls were feeding about 80 yards from me. Two 5 pointers and the 6 pointer. Wasn't sure if Bernie would shoot any of them, but hoped they would go his way, and let him make that decision.

These bulls grazed out of sight, going the exact direction I had hoped. They would go right past Bernie, at no more than 200 yards, given their current path. That was too good to hold true.

No more than I had dropped my binos, I could hear the thumping of hooves coming my way. Unfortunately, they were coming right through the timber the bulls has drifted in to. I moved uphill higher, hoping to look into the pinions and allow a better view of the unfolding calamity.

Now all the elk were below me about 150 yards. The bulls had jumped in with the cow group. All were standing at alert. I slowly slipped further up the ridge, taking me upwind of them. If they would go downwind, they would right past Bernie. I stood there, watching their noses and ears give them data to process.

For whatever reason, in unison, the elk headed back to where the cows had been bedded. This was not good, as it was across the small basin from Bernie's location. I watched as the elk rumps headed away. I ran to the saddle, wanting to block any from escaping to the north.

I sat on the rock outcrop in this saddle, and watched the elk continue west, and out of sight. I was depressed. What looked like a great chance has disappeared.

No more had I decided to head back to Bernie, than the elk came trotting back toward our direction. Something, which later turned out to be the white Dodge, had scared them back our way. The herd was now congregated in a biggest patch of pinion in the basin. I decided to go west and across this saddle, hoping my scent would push them to Bernie. Doing so would leave the saddle unattended and make for a good exit.

As I made the loop, the amount of cow calling was really cool. It made it pretty easy to keep a lock on their location, as I got into thicker timber. I was now upwind, and started toward them at a downwind and downhill angle. I got within slingshot distance, before they decided to move off. They were going right to Bernie. I watch from a small rise, as they clustered up in the timber in front of Bernie's position. I could not see the bulls. I glassed uphill of the cows and I could see the 6 point and a 5 point standing together, and another 5 point and cow standing further downhill.

I took off to the saddle, hoping to get there before the two bulls got there. Not only did they have a 200 yard head start on me, but let's face it, making ground on elk moving uphill ahead of you is a futile effort, no matter how much you wish otherwise.

The two bulls made it out of the basis. I worked my way back toward Bernie, knowing I had a good chance to bump the other 5 pointer and the cow. I moved slowly, not sure where they were. I rounded a pinion tree, and the bull was standing about 80 yards away, looking toward Bernie's position. I stopped and stayed motionless.

The wind was swirling and occasionally drifting their way. After a couple minutes the elk moved further toward Bernie's spot. I followed as close as I could, without scaring them. I watched as the elk grew more comfortable with their exit path, and started moving faster. They would trample Bernie at the current vector. I decided to stop and let them go where they had chosen.

I stood for twenty minutes, knowing full well they should have passed Bernie's position by now. Slowly, I moved to Bernie. Upon arrival, he was making a lot of excited gestures, which I learned to be his sign language for a 5 point bull coming within 35 yards, but he did not want to shoot a 5 pointer on the second day of a five day hunt. I could understand that.

The cows eventually grew comfortable and streamed out below us in single file. Not a branch antlered bull remained in the group.

Oh well, no shots were fired, but we had shown that with careful glassing and planning, and Bernie being able to grit it out, we might be able to find some set ups that would work for a hunter of Bernie's "ambulatory state" (his term of endearment, not mine.)

We glassed the remainder of the evening, but spotted nothing but more cows and calves. It was a great day. Bernie was talking a mile a minute. I think the realization that elk hunting was not out completely of his health reach, gave him more energy than I had seen him display in the last three years.

 

[mtmiller]

Love the story so far Randy. Lots of critters.

 

[Big Fin]

Day Three

After the success of finding bulls on Day Two, we were up and at 'em early on Day Three. We had found an easier way to get into this country, cutting a half hour of travel off our schedule.

This time, we headed straight for the area where we had the encounter the evening before, hoping some of the elk would still be nearby. We arrived at the perfect glassing time, and found a big herd of elk bedded in the same basin as the evening before. Good news.

We were joined on this hunt by NVLongbow, and my one-time roomate, CC Campbell. These are two great guys, and having them in camp, and willing to hep us, made this hunt all the better. They offered to go higher and scout other areas, while we tried to figure an approach to this herd of elk.

Bernie and I agreed that the elk being in this basin, and the wind being more southeast, it would be hard to approach them, other than to scale the steep north facing ridge that formed the north rim of this basin. Not an option for Bernie's joints.

From that, I told him I would circle south and see if I could find a better way in, or a place we could set up and hopefully provide a shot later in the day, when they got up to feed or water. Off I headed.

I climbed the most prominent rock pile in the entire basing, giving me good angles of the drainages going south or west from this basin. I was glassing the bedded herd, and saw one 5 point bull in the group. Being surrounded by forty cows would make him very difficult, even if Bernie could climb that steep ridge downwind of them.

As I stood looking for better options, I noticed an elk coming up the drainage to the southwest. I put the scope on him and saw him to be a good 6 pointer. And as I looked for the next ten minutes, he was followed by four other 6 point bulls. Wow, this was just what I had hoped for.

I watched as the bulls headed to the pinion filled draw two ridges to the south. I figured they would go and bed. If they bedded where I hoped, and Bernie could climb the first ridge, we could sidehill around the southeast side of this basin, and if the bulls were down in that small depression, he would have some decent shooting.

I ran back to the truck where Bernie was glassing the elk bedded in the same location as last night. I told him what I had found. He was now very excited, talking faster than normal, and in his frenzy, was pulling out his rifle and pack. He pronounced that this damn ridge was not going to stand in the way of him and these bulls. He headed up the drainage, to a group of pinions in a saddle on the rim. I told him I would come behind, after reloading my pack with game bags, water, cameras, etc.

By the time I made a quick snack and cinched my pack, Bernie had made his way to the saddle and was waiting for me. This had taken a toll on him, and he was struggling to navigate the strewn boulders and ever-grabbing mahogany thickets. But, he trudged along, never speaking a word of complaint, just smiling big grins as I would stop and wait for him to reach the next resting place.

This continued for about 3/4 mile. Fortunately, the terrain was more tame as we sidehilled across the eastern rim of the basin. I was always looking out for the bulls, hoping they would stay in that little draw on the southeast corner. So far, so good.

I told Bernie I would ease ahead to the next rocks and we would wait from there. If the bulls were to come out of the basin with the wind in their face, it would provide some shooting at slightly over 200 yards. I hurried ahead and found a place where Bernie could sit. He reached my spot within about ten minutes. The bulls were not yet visible.

Bernie took a rest on a big rock, while I searched for the next good vantage point on the southeast rim of the basin. If we could get to those next rocks, we could overlook the entire draw where the bulls had disappeared. I told Bernie of my plan to move forward again. He agreed.

As I moved a few yards forward, I noticed a bull strolling through the pinions exactly toward the rock we wanted to get to. Dang it, they were going to beat us there. But, if they crossed the next opening, it would provide clear shooting lanes at 300 yards.

I motioned Bernie. He spotted the bull. We got the shooting situation set up, which consisted of my fiber composite tripod fully extended to shoulder height, and locked the head to form a pocket for Bernie to rest his rifle. The cameras were rolling and we waited for the bull to come open. I ranged that opening at 300 yards.

The bull had stopped, with only his rear visible. Two other bulls now followed along behind, easing through the trees. Bernie readied, hoping they would stop in the opening behind the first bull. No luck. They turned and walked straight away.

Bernie steadied his aim on the trailing bull, hoping he would turn before hitting the thick mahoganies across from us. He was standing and waiting. I was directly behind him on a rock, looking in advance of any opening the bulls might cross into.

Finally, as the bulls headed up the other side of the draw, they turned left, or east, and started to line out directly broadside from us. All we needed now was for one of them to stop in an opening. The big yellow opening would be best.

As if on cue, the trailing bull turned broadside and looked our direction. Bernie let the camera guys know that now was the time.

He shot. I watched in disbelief as the bull stood still, looking for the source of that loud noise. Bernie chambered another round, and as he drew to shoot again, the bull stepped into the mahoganies and the entire group trotted out of the basin.

Bernie and I both knew that the shoot did not strike the bull. Just where it hit, we did not know. From my vantage, it looked like a high hit. Bernie thought it was low. Troy reviewed the footage and confirmed that the bullet must have passed less than an inch below the bull.

Bernie was completely dejected. I laughed, as I know such things happen in hunting. But, having spent time in the field and at the range with Bernie, I would put him in the top group of marksmen I know. I ranged tree next to which the bull was standing - 340 yards. They had moved a little further than my original ranging, but still a makable shot for Bernie.

I ran to the rim of the basin and watched the bulls head due south to the cover of thicker timber. I backtracked from their crossing point to the location of the shot, looking for blood the entire way. None was found. I reached the spot where the bull had stood and searched for the blood or hair I doubted to be there. Damn, not the outcome Bernie and I expected.

The rest of the day was spent looking for other elk to chase. Longbow and CC had found a big herd of cows with a 5 point in the group. I eased out the ridge to look over the bull and find if Bernie could get in on them. As I glassed, two ATVs came across the opposing ridge, sending the elk on their way to who knows where, and making that opportunity one to cross off the list.

No other elk were found, until just before dark, when Troy, one of the cameramen, glassed two bulls about a mile away, walking toward a big burn. The spotter showed one of them to be huge. Very wide, heavy, and good tine length. A really good bull, but moving the wrong way. He had another 6 pointer with him. A nice bull, but nothing like the big guy.

We left at dark, knowing a new location where two bulls were hanging, and one of them was a tank. All was not lost.

Longbow and CC had arrived at camp before us and had a great meal started. It was Veterans Day, and we made toast to Bernie and his service to our country as a marine who served as a member of a recon patrol in Vietnam. Thanks Bernie.

And with that, we retired to the tents, ready to go find the big guy in the morning.

 

[Big Fin]

Day Four - Moby makes his appearance

After the ups and downs of the previous day, it was good to roll out of the tents, knowing we had seen the biggest bull of the hunt at dark, the evening before. Nice to have something to dream about as your drive for longs distances in the pre-dawn darkness.

We arrived at the glassing spot, the same time another vehicle had. What the hell, had they seen this same bull from a different vantage point. Not wanting to be crowded, we moved a couple drainages north, where we could look for the big bull to our west, and possibly keep and eye on some appealing country to the north.

On our way in, we had spotted a group of cows with a six point run across the road in front of us, and a 7 pointer, who had busted off his main beam about ten inches from his skull. All of them were headed to the benches west of us, where this bigger bull had appeared last night.

We drove up the drainage to gain elevation, then me, Troy and Loren (camera guys) climbed the ridges and started glassing. The wind was brutal, and there was even some snow starting to smack us in the face. We glassed until our eyes hurt, without spotting a single elk, let alone a bull.

I determined we needed to find a way to get about that huge pinion flat, where these elk were heading each morning. I went to every possible drainage and took ever goat trail I could find. None got to where I could glass the areas I hoped. I thought about climbing in from down below, but if I did spot an elk way back in there, it would be of no use, if there was not some sort of road to get Bernie closer to the location.

Eventually, we gave up on that idea and headed back east to where we had consistently found the elk. No elk were in the basin of the last two days of activity. I decided to hike south on the benches overlooking some big pinion flats. I found four cows and calves, but nothing else. The wind was howling, and glassing those long distances in a moving scope was hard, but we only had two day left, so I was determined.

I returned to Bernie and told him of the sparse findings. We headed further east to the Utah border. Sign was everywhere, but the elk themselves were absent. I was getting quite frustrated. Our three days of learning this area were yielding no results. Bernie suggested we head back west to where we had seen some elk the day before. Sounded better than what this was providing, so off we went.

Almost immediately, Bernie saw an elk to our north. Very close to our north. It was a nice 6 point bull and he was headed due west. We drove ahead to an area we thought he would cross and hoped he would walk right into our ambush.

It was a good hike up the hill to where we would set up, but our thinking was that it was easier to get in front of an elk moving our direction than to try get a train of four guys to sneak through the pinions. I know it was hard on Bernie to get up this slope and set up in this opening, but he realized it was a great opportunity, and did so without hesitation.

We sat the large opening for a half hour. From there, we could glass the entire drainage, and the hillside across from us where the bull seemed to be headed.

Worrying that the bull took the finger of trees north and out of our locale, I offered to scale the tall ridge to our north and glass the burns and pinions on the opposing side. With only an hour of light left, Bernie agreed that even if I didn't find this bull, if we could find something this evening, it would give us the starting point for tomorrow morning, our last day.

Off I went, giving all I had to get the top of the ridge with as much glassing time remaining as I possibly could. When I got there, I glassed below to Bernie and the camera guys, hoping I could see this bull working toward them. I was nothing but mule deer.

I dropped over the crest of the ridge and out of sight, hoping to find some elk in pockets not visible from other locations. Upon crossing the second rise on this hillside I spotted antlers bobbing about 200 yards below me. I stopped and glassed. Holy crap, the tops of this bull sticking above the pinions were great.

I waited patiently as the bull fed to an opening a little further below me. My goodness. Here, just one ridge away from the road, camped out in a protected notch above a deep canyon was a bull of all dreams.

I was wishing I had not left my spotting scope and tripod with Bernie to use as his shooting rest. I so badly wanted to digiscope this bull. He had 8 points on his left beam. He had 7 on his right, and his G2 on the right was long enough to look like a third main beam. I watched and took photos through one lens of my binos. At the closing light and trying to keep that set up from shaking, the photos were terrible, but enough to show just how big this guy was.

I hustled off the hill in the dark to where Bernie and the camera guys were waiting. They knew from my hurried steps that I had something special to show them. A herd of 30 cows had come to them at dark, but no bulls to provide Bernie a shot.

I showed them the pictures. And as hard as the opposite drainage would be for any of us to navigate, if I could locate this bull working back up to his lair, we could put him to bed and use the day to get Bernie up the slope where a cross canyon shot of 300 yards might be had.

I hurried back to camp in the darkness, excited to show Longbow and CC the results of the evening hike. I did not sleep well that night, hoping I could relocate this bull and find him in a location where Bernie would have a shot. For that to happen, luck would have to be on our side, but to know a bull of this size was out there and knowing where he was last headed, is enough to make any elk hunter lose sleep.

Here are the best of the crappy pics. I wish I had a method to improve them. This bull is not only long in main beams, but very long in the points. His only weakness is width, but that one measurement is easily compensated for with fronts that were pushing 20", beams over 55", very long thirds through fifths, and the bonus of very long extras on each beam. Mass was very good, also.

 

[Lawnboy]

uhh yaa that one will do Keep writing...

 

[Big Fin]

Day Five - "All In"

Laying in bed all night, I had a gut feeling that this bull was making his living in this hard to find spot and would not venture very far, at the risk of being spotted. At the alarm, I bounded from my cot and woke Bernie. We had to be on the road, post-haste.

Longbow followed us down, and offered to scale the ridge to the saddle and glass the big hillsides above and across where I guessed the bull would be in the morning.

The four of us went lower, into the canyon I saw the bull feeding into at dark. The road ended immediately. The camera guys and I scaled a steep face to gain the elevation that allowed us to glass the ridges below Longbow. After an hour of glassing and no bull spotted, I figured he had continued east to the next little pocket of habitat that would hide him from hunters.

From that, we headed to the next canyon east of us. We barely crossed the wet creek bottom, but continued grinding up the road to where we hoped the ridges would allow us to glass all the remaining little pockets of cover where this bull could hide out for hunting season. If the bull got to the south, there were miles of pinion flats where he could hide, never to be seen again.

As I crawled the truck up the canyon, we came to a wide spot with a big spring. It was frozen and I tried to keep a line on top of the most prominent boulders. I felt gravity taking the truck downhill, so I floored it. With one big bounce, we slid off the rocks and down into the spring, which as I quickly learned, did not have a bottom to it. Both front tires were to the axles in the bog. I was high centered to a degree I had never seen, and the front of the truck was sinking into what seemed like quicksand.

I jumped out to survey the situation. Not good. The camera guys bailed out to film the chaos at hand, and hopefully had my audio channels blocked out. As I walked to the passenger side to see what level of muck existed, I took one wrong step and was instantly above my knees in slimy goo.

In one snap decision, I had messed up the final morning of the hunt. We were going nowhere. I jumped in and thought I might be able to rock the truck off the crown, as we were angled pretty steep downhill, so I figured gravity would help. Well, I figured wrong. Damn it.

I had left all my important getting stuck utensils back at camp. That would include tow straps, and other necessities to rescue us from this disaster. Fortunately, from his position, Longbow realized our state of need and climbed down the ridge and brought his heavily modified rig up the canyon to our position.

I was too busy swearing, jacking, digging, and building road to take pictures of this mess, but Troy and Loren assured me they have good photos. I will post them, once they share them with me. This was as stuck as I have ever been, and given my father found great adventure in getting stuck, that is saying something.

My brother will probably laugh hysterically when he reads this, as he knows I often commit the near-mortal sin of traveling without a handyman jack, the normal 16th birthday present to any northern Minnesota boy who gets is drivers license. My experiences of getting stuck in my Dad's two wheel drive vehicles in the bogs of the homeland have made me the "Charlie Daniels of the Handyman Jack," yet here I was, without my most needed tool.

Fortunately, Longbow had his handyman jack, some fencing wire, and a shovel. My shovel was at the makeshift bathroom facilities behind camp. I am embarrassed to get stuck, but even more so at my poor state of preparedness to rescue myself from such stupidity.

With much digging, jacking, and packing of rocks and brush, we had the truck raised high enough that the axles had cleared the ruts, but were again sinking fast as we dropped the jack. Quickly, Longbow and I jumped in the rigs and put it in 4Low and gave it hell. Luckily the fencing wire and bumpers held and I bounced out of the muck, cussing myself, but greatly relieved that Longbow had rescued the remaining six hours of the hunt.

From there, we headed back to where a long ridge would allow us to glass many possible spots where the big bull might have bedded. Troy and I took a two mile jaunt out to the end of a ridge and glassed until we could glass no more. Longbow had ventured even higher. A meeting of the minds brought forth some pretty disappointing results.

What to do? The last afternoon, and we had lost all the bulls that had been so visible the prior three days. Longbow decided to head north to an area he had seen a bull earlier in the week. If he found something, we would stay an extra morning and impose on everyone's schedules, in hopes we could find the bull.

Our group would travel south where it appeared most these elk had headed. If we spotted nothing there, we would go back west where Troy had glassed up the big bull two nights before. Bernie was fine with any tactic, as he was hunting elk, and in his mind, there was really nothing that could dampen such wonderful fun.

Upon parting ways, we worked our way south, I walked out on a point and below me spotted a group of elk. Cool. Closer examination showed it to be another herd of cows and calves.

I continued driving and walking points to glass new country, until I knew we only had enough time to get to the spot west of here and have maybe a half hour of light remaining.

We covered that nine miles in short order. Upon arriving at the spot, instantly two bulls were located. And, they were close. I ranged them at 284 yards. They were standing on a ridge looking at us, as Bernie set up. Unfortunately, we were looking west, into the setting sun. Very tough. Bernie and the cameras got on the elk, just as our commotion had reached a point of moving them off. We stayed on the elk, as they walked away from us. They stopped momentarily for another glance after reaching a safe 425 yard distance.

With that opportunity, Bernie's chance to fill his Nevada elk tag vanished. Just like the big bulls we had been chasing.

It was a great hunt. Bernie tells me he has no regrets, other than missing the bull on Day Three. Something about filming brings out the most complicated of scenarios, and this hunt was no different.

I wished we had pictures of Bernie's bulls to show. We don't.

If you could put in pictures the feelings of great times spent with great friends, I would have an album full of pics to post. To convey the satisfaction one feels while watching an experienced hunter try to will his way to an elk, when his physical health is escaping him, builds more admiration than words can express.

And, we were hunting. It is what we do. We are hunters. Hunting is our soul, our spirit, and our life's blood. And when we stop hunting, we stop living.

Thanks to Bernie for letting us tag along on this hunt and document a very important lesson of perseverance, courage, and finding pleasure in the hunt, regardless of the final outcome. He is a terrific hunter and a great guy. Sharing camp with a person such as him is an experience I hope we all get to have.

And big thanks to Longbow, CC, and especially to Troy and Loren, the best camera guys in outdoor TV. All of you added so much to this experience and I cannot thank you enough.

I hope you all find someone to take hunting who would cherish another day in the duck blind, a morning on the deer stand, the chance to sit around the campfire and tell stories of past hunts. They will enjoy it greatly, as will you.

 

[Lawnboy]

Thanks for keeping it all in perspective. Killing isn't everything and often times it's the time spent and service rendered that ultimately defines who we truely are.

 

[montanadogs]

man you guys have quite a show on this one. The only way it would of turned out perfect would of been a pic of bernie behind his bull. Sounds like one great hunt. Think of the stories that were created from this one. Also, think about how much bigger they will get with the passing years.

 

[Buschy]

BF,

Great story!

Bernie seems like quite a guy and I bet it would be a treat to share camp and stories with him. Congratulations on a great hunt!

 

[DRAFTSTUD]

Randy, I think Bernie was Hunting for more than Elk on this trip. I really think he found what he was hunting for, the Bernie who used to do the things without the pain and just enjoying beng "There". John

 

[Spitz]

Great story Randy. I'm sure the footage will let everyone feel as though they were there on a succesful hunt even though a bull was not harvested.

Even from those crummy photos you can tell tha bull is a gagger. Someday . . .

 

[Horn Seeker]

That bull is incredible...Wow....

Good write up Randy, thanks.

 

[IdahoBugler]

Great read as usual Randy. This episode will be one for the books. You guys worked hard and found more then you could have ever asked for. Congrats.

 

[justdada]

I'd have given my NV points for an adventure like that. Congrats on a 99.9% successful hunt guys!
I hope you put some footage of your 'truck in the swamp' on the episode.

 

[cschwartzman]

The hunt is the cake getting to shoot something is just the iceing. Great story looking forward to see the show.

 

[elk_hunter]

Congrats on some great memories and a great story!

 

[Big Fin]

More Professional Photos

Photofin, or Troy Batzler, our lead field producer, is often lugging his still camera around the hills, along with his pack full of video gear, to capture those cool images while hunting. Unfortunately, when he is with us, the "talent" is always the weak link.

Here are some cool images of the elk hunt. The first one is really cool. It is of our camp one night on a clear starry night. You would have to ask him how he did that. I have no clue, but it is pretty cool.

These help tell the story about the hunt, probably better than my long-winded dissertations.

Have to give Troy, and his site, a plug. Here are some very cool hunting and fishing images, from a guy who knows how to do it. - Troy Batzler Photography.


Very cool Troy.


A shameless plug for Leupold. Pretty frosty that morning.


Did I say we got stuck. With the cussing, I think Troy figured it was best to just take pictures and not say much.


NVLongbow not only rescued us, but hauled rocks to put under the tires, as we jacked it up.


Far right - notice the all important Handyman Jack. Don't leave camp without it. In this case, just needed a taller one to get the truck up another foot or so.


Thanks again Troy.

 

[elk_hunter]

LOL, those pics are awesome. Troy, chime in and tell us how to do pics like the first one BF posted...that is way cool!

Yeah, in the NV fall, expect those frosty temps and nasty hellholes that like to swallow axles...

 

[Goldtip]

Very cool write up Fin and great job working so hard to help a buddy get after a good bull. Good job to Bernie as well for not throwing in the towel as the arthritis starts to slow him down. Sounds like you had a great hunt, great bulls seen, great country and one helluva job of getting a truck stuck!