Randy helped me get a bull

Glad that Scott started this post. It was one of the most special hunts I will ever get the chance to be a part of. It started in June when Scott called to tell me he drew one of the Idaho Elk Supertags. I knew Scott had a full knee replacement the day before, so I questioned if was overmedicated and the meds had him dreaming that he had drawn the tag. Nope, for real, he drew the tag.

Those of you who have watched our show know what a critical part Scott has been to so many things. He has been a close friend since 1986, most of our shared times, even before the show, involved hunting. Whether it was me going to Nevada or him coming to Montana, we spent a ton of time laughing and filling freezers.

When we got the news of Scott's tag, the entire calendar got readjusted. We had pronghorn and archery elk originally scheduled, but none of those compared to the chance to finally help Scott with an opportunity as special as this. I think that will come through in the video.

Scott has helped so many other people with hunts. It is just part of what he does. You will see others in this hunt who are there hoping they can repay some of the favors Scott has paid forward over the years. To me, all of the people there to help him and hopefully make a small dent in the ledger of favors, is the true story of this hunt.

As far as the hunt goes, this bull was the best we found among many bulls. When folks see the number of bulls and the intense bugling activity, they will probably think we were on a preserve. The private land down low held a lot of water, but was grazed intensively compared to the public land. The public land, being slightly grazed, held much better food and therefore was a magnet for the cow elk. Find the cow elk in September and you'll find the bulls. The best bedding cover for the cows was also on public. This made for a remarkable public land elk hunt.

We actually have some far away footage of this bull the first evening of scouting. His huge body size made his large antlers seem smaller than they really were. Now that I look at the footage and I see him next to some mature cow elk, I can see how that huge body size caused us to underestimate him on that scouting day. Even with the underestimation, he was still among the few bulls Scott said he would shoot on opening day.

When opening day came, we were on the ridge before daylight, listening to a bugle fest like I've never experienced. A lot of ATV and truck headlights were bouncing up the rocky roads below us. Any notion that Scott would have this place to himself quickly
evaporated. For whatever reason, most of those hunters stopped lower. Not sure if they were trying to intercept elk coming up from the private, or maybe they had spotted other bulls that interested them.

Many good bulls rutted down below us, making for some tempting targets to go after. Due to broken points or broken beams, they all got a pass from Scott. A ton of fun to film and watch, for sure.

Finally, after most the bulls pushed their cows into the aspens to bed, we were contemplating what to do with the rest of the morning. While talking it over, I spotted a lone bull on a small sage opening above the rivers of aspens. I put the spotter on him as he stood in a sunlit spot and instantly told Scott he needed to look at this bull. Scott stepped to the eyepiece, took about a five second look, turned to me and Michael, stating, "I gotta get my gear," and in an instant was headed down the ridge to where we left most of our gear near the truck.

I had hoped to get some digiscope footage, but the bull dropped into a mess of aspens, heading to the rest of the elk we had been watching below for the last hour. Michael and I grabbed the camera and spotter, following Scott down to the ridge to the truck and all our necessary gear. There was no doubt this bull was the obvious goal for Scott and this special tag.
 
With all our gear, the rifle, and the video equipment ready, we started down the ridge, hoping to intercept this bull as he followed the path of the other elk we had glassed passing through some openings below us. The sun was getting higher, the thermals started to mix with the uphill/downhill swirl, and the bugling was starting to get less intense. Time was not on our side.

As we dropped, we stayed in the shade of a small but, using junipers and mahoganies as cover. Eventually we were 250 yards above where the trail took the elk past a small spring that most elk stopped to water in as they headed further up the drainage to bed for the day.

We set up in a small cluster of aspens and waited. And waited. And waited. Normally I would have been more aggressive during a September hunt, but we had a terrible wind. The uphill thermals on the sunny slopes were merging with the the downhill thermals on the shaded slopes. To go further would risk blowing all of these elk out of drainage to who knows where.

It is hard to sit tight when bulls are bugling all over down below you. One bull was tearing up trees and groaning more than bugling. He was about 300 yards low and left (south) of our west facing setup. I was sure he would emerge at the water. He didn't. He kept in the timber, responding to other bulls bugling and thrashing aspens.

Eventually I told Scott and Michael I would go further north into the next aspens and cow call, hoping I could bring the ornery bull from his sheltered aspen grove below and we could see if this was the big guy we had seen a half mile south. Given the big bull was headed this general direction, I hoped the bugling and commotion below was from him. But, the only way I could think of to find out was to try get him to come to the edge of his timbered lair and get a glimpse of him.

I snuck north and buried myself in some aspens. I laid on the cow call as whining and loud as I could. Bulls started bugling to my west, to my north, and the guy we were set up on to the south decided he'd join the chorus. Over the course of a half hour, lots of bulls responded, some coming to openings to have a peak. But, the old boy down below would just groan, try his best to bugle, and then thrash some trees.

He never did give us a look before his groaning and raspy bugles got further and further deeper into this 300 acre aspen grove. He seemed looking for an afternoon bed. From his sounds, he was now on the SW corner of that aspen grove, making it impossible to get closer. Coming from down the drainage (south) would take our scent straight to him. Coming in from the north would spook the dozen or so other bulls and their cows. Coming from the east would be impossible, given how thick the aspens were. We had no choice but to sit tight and hope he stepped into a small opening where we could identify if it was the big guy we caught a glimpse of a couple hours earlier.
 
We waited. Nothing.

We waiting some more. Nothing.

Some of the other folks, @Spitz, Don, Robbie, and Mike had went to other glassing areas from camp in hopes that more eyes would increase the odds of finding a great bull. The idea was that we would meet back at camp for lunch and compare notes. Around 11:30, having heard no bugles for a half hour and knowing the bull had went to the bottom of the drainage, Scott made the call that we head back to camp and meet up. We snuck back up the ridge and headed back to camp, with Scott remarking, "That bull has reset my expectations for this hunt."

When we got to camp, the rest of the crew was there. They had seen some bulls and a they had relocated a few of the better bulls from scouting. When Scott described this bull, you could see the crew was impressed by Scott's excitement. The plan could have been to grab lunch and take a nap until the elk got back on their feet in the evening. Scott made the call that we take our naps out in the field while being set up on the bull. I liked that idea.

Scott wanted everyone to be nearby, in the event he took the bull. The rest of the crew followed us to the general area, each going to a separate glassing spot that would help us know of this bull made it out of this huge basin. These folks were going to have no shortage of bulls to glass.

Scott, Michael, and I headed back down into the basin, setting up a bit higher than our morning nest, hoping it would give a bit more of view of the exits from that aspen grove, even if it added 50 yards to the shooting distance if they came to the water hole below. It was a great setup.

With time on our hands, Scott spent his time building shooting rests from the shooting stick and his trekking poles. He even carried a small tripod chair down there to get him a bit higher over the sage that could obscure a shot. He was ranging every possible shooting lane and working on his breathing sequences. When a young cow elk came to the water hole, Scott used her as a training dummy; ranging here, adjusting his scope, fixing his rest, and preparing for a shot of a bull came through.

About 4:30pm, a thunderstorm rolled in. I wondered how wet we would get, but only some annoying rain hit us. The rumble of thunder in the distance seemed to get the bulls further up the drainage to start bugling. After about fifteen minutes of bulls yelling at each other some cow elk started talking. Then some more cows. Then some cows down below us. This was getting noisy in a hurry.

Not long after that, the same groaning and bugling from this morning starting coming up from the bottom of the drainage, seemingly on a vector that would take him to the waterhole below us. Scott, Michael, and I all were casting looks to each other that said what words would have stated as, "Can you believe he's coming back up here?"

The bugling started to get more intense. The cows were chirping as loud as I've ever heard. There were elk all across the ridge to our west. Some bulls crossed into openings. One laid down and bugled to the others. None were the big guy from this morning.

I told Scott that with all the bulls we had gotten a peak of and none of them being the big guy, the odds of the big guy being below us was getting better and better. Scott assured me he wasn't shooting unless the bull was the one from this morning. Hard to disagree with that statement.

The noise below us was getting closer and more PO'd with each minute. No need to call and give up our position, as the bulls and cows up the drainage were doing a better job than I ever could of triggering the bull below us. Eventually, three cows emerged next to the waterhole and headed up the drainage to where the big party was going on. I was ready for the bull to follow them, as his bugles and groans were very close to where those cows emerged. But, he didn't. He stood in the aspens and tore up a bunch of trees, then groaned, then went back to abusing the aspens.

He was so close. It was just too thick to see him. Now his bugles got closer and more toward the small finger on our southern flank that ran down into this aspen cluster. How could we not see him. Now, we could hear him tearing up some unsuspecting tree. He was surely coming up that small ridge that would lead him out of the aspens. I whispered to Scott, "What the hell, he's going southeast while his cows just went straight north. Oh well, keep coming big boy."

About the time the tree abuse peaked, Micheal, who set up about 15' above us, whispered, "I see him. He's on the ridge, just inside the aspens. He's destroying a tree."

I glassed and could now see the commotion just inside the trees. Scott turned his shooting set up to the south, a 90 degree pivot. I pressed the binos to my eyes in hopes I could verify if it is the bull from this morning or one of the many other "nice" bulls that were super aggressive. I turned the spotter and the digiscoping to where I though the bull might emerge. Scott asked me to confirm his range reading of 212 yards. Yup, the shot would be somewhere between 205-240 yards. Scott spun the dials on the CDS and settled in, asking, "Let me know if he's the bull from this morning."

Having destroyed one aspen, the bull started up the ridge and emerged from cover. With the benefit of the spotter and digiscoping, there was no doubt, he was the bull from this morning. I told Scott it was the bull. Having watched the bull through the rifle scope, Scott affirmed that he was shooting if a chance came.

I started a few cow calls, wanting to stop the bull before he crested over this small spine and into another cluster of aspens. He bugled, but kept walking. I wailed a the whiniest cow call I could muster. The bull stopped to look, his vitals covered by a small shrub. Scott whispered, "I don't have a shot." Given this was the only shrub within 40 yards that could obscure a shot, my comments were not repeatable for the episode.

Michael, being higher and at a slightly different shot angle had an open view and was wondering why shots were not being fired. That gets communicated by camera guys by saying, "I'm on him. I'm on him. Take him when you're ready." To his credit, Scott kept his cool.

The bull started walking again and laid on the cow call even more frantic than before. The bull stopped and bugled at me. He now turned slightly quartering to us. A clear shot from Scott's position, though slightly obscured from Michael's. What seemed like forever, which was only 22 seconds on the camera footage, Scott waited for the perfect opportunity.

At 215 yards, Scott fired. The 300 Win Mag sent the E-tip to the bull with a loud crack as it hit ribs on its way in. Watching through the digiscope, I could see the impact. The bull made a slight pivot toward the aspens, seeming to struggle as he stepped. As is my mantra, I told Scott to keep shooting as long as the bull was on his feet. I cow called and the bull stopped. He looked a bit wobbly. Scott shot again and another perfect shot put the bull on his knees.

A few downhill rolls and the bull came to rest with his abnormally large antlers extending above the sage. Scott was without words. In my excitement, I think I made up for his moments of stunned silence. Congratulations and hugs. A few shouts of glee informed the rest of the crew that the shots they heard had done the trick. Little did we know that Spitz and Mike could see the bull from their glassing position.

We all met up and let Scott walk down to the bull. Scott turned to us as he got closer and laughed, "He keeps getting bigger." No trick photography needed for this bull.

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I cannot find words to express how happy I was for Scott or how thankful I am for his 35+ years of friendship. At this age, hunting for me is less about the animal and mostly about the people I get to share the experiences with. Whether I have the tag or someone else has the tag, the camaraderie, the camps shared, the storied told, and the memories made are the true trophies of the hunts.

I've been blessed to be on some remarkable adventures in my life. Of all the great hunts I've been luck to be a part of, this hunt with Scott will be in top handful of the ones that mean the most to me.

Thanks so much, Scott. You are a remarkable man. The fact that many of your friends would take time to join on this hunt is a testimony to the feelings they have for you and your approach to life. I can only hope that every person reading this has a "Scott Jones" in their close circle of friends.

At the risk of offending some with a "posse photo," I am posting this to show the rest of the folks who added so much to Scott's hunt. Mike C., Michael P., Aspen W., Robbie W., Don K., and @Spitz. A great group of people, all of whom feel the same gratitude for their friendship with Scott.

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Ignoring Randy's posts until I watch the episode. I enjoy when you're on the show though.
 
Haven’t posted in a couple years but have been reading some of you folks posts. Randy spotted this bull about 10am last Thursday. He was headed to bed and we couldn’t change his mind with our calling. Managed to connect on him about 6:00pm. You will be able to see the action on Freshtracks.
Excellent! Beautiful old warrior
 

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