I would like for this to be some long winded thread of how we hunted so hard and on the last day, we pulled out a miracle bull. Seems it usually happens that way for us.
Not on this hunt. Saturday, my son, Matthew, flew into town and by Sunday we were using a helicopter to access a piece of isolated public ground in central Montana, both having rifle elk tags.
Couldn't hunt that day, so we scouted. Found a big wad of elk, but most were on private. And, the few on public were about a three hour hike away.
Next morning, we climbed up and were glassing at dawn. Mostly trying to sort the rain drops that were coming in more horizontally, than vertically. Made for difficult glassing. Even with that, we noticed a huge mass of elk moving across the foothills like a parade of ants marching along. Not sure how many, but it was in the hundreds. They had made it to the timber by about 9:30 am, bedding in a scattered pattern that put most of them on private.
Rather than dedicate an entire day to hiking down there, losing 600' of elevation and gaining back 400' more, just to navigate a private boundary, I decided to keep an eye on them and see if they came out again in the evening. If so, Day Two of hunting would have us navigating the darkness to be in position.
Seems like every time I hunt this area, the elk are on the opposite side of where we camp. In the past two years, if I had camped here, I would have had elk at my feet, nothing more than a few hundred feet of vertical separating me from them. Now that I camped over here, the elk were bunching up on the opposite end, about 2.5 miles as the crow flies, but way worse when it comes to what it takes on a dark hike and circumventing boundaries.
We retreated to camp to get out of the drenching rain and wind. Wondered if the hurricane had changed course and made it to Montana. By mid-afternoon, the wind had cleared the skies and we were up on the rock doing more glassing.
Knowing a little of what a long hike to that area of the public land would entail, I left Matthew and Brad to spot and scout from above while Mason and I took the map and the GPS to plot the path that would be needed for us to get there in the dark. Way easier to navigate in the daylight and mark the path of least resistance while the sun was up, than to go in cold and fight through that mess in the dark.
Two and half hours later, Mason and I returned, having marked the easiest trail on the GPS to where we would hook up with another trail that was about 1.75 miles of pretty flat downhill slope. Crazy to invest that kind of time into plotting a trail, but having hunted here and knowing how mobile these elk are, it seemed like the proper thing to do.
When we returns, Matthew and Brad had seven bulls down below, but all on private. Far out on the flats, we noticed a huge mass of elk returning to their feeding grounds. Again, almost all on private, but right on the boundary of public.
That did it. Seeing that mass of elk, I resolved we would get up way, way, before sun up, tighten our packs and lace our boots for the long three-hour hike of darkness that would put us in position for an assault the next morning.
I warned the crew of what laid ahead. We packed extra food and water, along with some essentials in the event we did not want to hike back and found it prudent to spend a night over there in these forecasted warmer temps.
Matthew on the rock, giving him almost a 360 degree angle for glassing.
Not on this hunt. Saturday, my son, Matthew, flew into town and by Sunday we were using a helicopter to access a piece of isolated public ground in central Montana, both having rifle elk tags.
Couldn't hunt that day, so we scouted. Found a big wad of elk, but most were on private. And, the few on public were about a three hour hike away.
Next morning, we climbed up and were glassing at dawn. Mostly trying to sort the rain drops that were coming in more horizontally, than vertically. Made for difficult glassing. Even with that, we noticed a huge mass of elk moving across the foothills like a parade of ants marching along. Not sure how many, but it was in the hundreds. They had made it to the timber by about 9:30 am, bedding in a scattered pattern that put most of them on private.
Rather than dedicate an entire day to hiking down there, losing 600' of elevation and gaining back 400' more, just to navigate a private boundary, I decided to keep an eye on them and see if they came out again in the evening. If so, Day Two of hunting would have us navigating the darkness to be in position.
Seems like every time I hunt this area, the elk are on the opposite side of where we camp. In the past two years, if I had camped here, I would have had elk at my feet, nothing more than a few hundred feet of vertical separating me from them. Now that I camped over here, the elk were bunching up on the opposite end, about 2.5 miles as the crow flies, but way worse when it comes to what it takes on a dark hike and circumventing boundaries.
We retreated to camp to get out of the drenching rain and wind. Wondered if the hurricane had changed course and made it to Montana. By mid-afternoon, the wind had cleared the skies and we were up on the rock doing more glassing.
Knowing a little of what a long hike to that area of the public land would entail, I left Matthew and Brad to spot and scout from above while Mason and I took the map and the GPS to plot the path that would be needed for us to get there in the dark. Way easier to navigate in the daylight and mark the path of least resistance while the sun was up, than to go in cold and fight through that mess in the dark.
Two and half hours later, Mason and I returned, having marked the easiest trail on the GPS to where we would hook up with another trail that was about 1.75 miles of pretty flat downhill slope. Crazy to invest that kind of time into plotting a trail, but having hunted here and knowing how mobile these elk are, it seemed like the proper thing to do.
When we returns, Matthew and Brad had seven bulls down below, but all on private. Far out on the flats, we noticed a huge mass of elk returning to their feeding grounds. Again, almost all on private, but right on the boundary of public.
That did it. Seeing that mass of elk, I resolved we would get up way, way, before sun up, tighten our packs and lace our boots for the long three-hour hike of darkness that would put us in position for an assault the next morning.
I warned the crew of what laid ahead. We packed extra food and water, along with some essentials in the event we did not want to hike back and found it prudent to spend a night over there in these forecasted warmer temps.
Matthew on the rock, giving him almost a 360 degree angle for glassing.
