OverlordBear
Well-known member
Success after 6 years of elk hunting
I am posting this elk hunt. It started in 2022. 2022 was a cool year because I was able to hunt archery elk and rifle elk in the same season. Due to left over tag opportunities.
The year started out slow and a little hot. After the first three days I found a forage and cool pocket for the elk and was able to sneak with 35 yards of a spike elk. I have not successfully arrowed an elk yet but I am not going to be picky any legal elk within 50 yards is good enough for me.
The woods are thick and timbered on this cool September morning. I was in the bottom of a small creek bed at 530 and I let out a locate bugle and I heard some crashing through the brush up hill of me and within 30 seconds there is the shadow of an elk only 10 yards away from me but it is too early because I can’t see my pins in the sight of my bow. I start shaking at the anticipation and I look over and I can see the shadow of his head and I can tell he is a spike.
I hear him walk up hill and he starts bugling looking for the source of the bull he heard. I trail him up hill the wind in my face and I don’t call till I get to the plateau of the hill that he walked up to. After getting to the top the sun has now risen enough to make it legal shooting light and I let out a bull bugle again but this time nothing. I then let out a cow call about five minutes later and I hear the spike’s whining bugle once again.
I creep through the woods looking and glancing for the spike. All of a sudden I see him standing with his head framed between a downed pine tree and two lodge pole pines staring right at me. I freeze but we are looking at each other about 45 yards away. He barks and walks away. I quickly walk toward where he was and I see the game trail he went down and I start to follow it down the path.
I catch up to him about 20 minutes later and he is slowly grazing and quartering away from under a canopy of lodge pole pines. I notch an arrow and range him at 35 yards. The only thing in my sight and peep is pins and elk hide. I launch an arrow and an explosion of noise movement and crashing as the spike elk bolts away through the woods. I am shaking convinced I have finally achieved my goal of an archery elk. I quickly walk over toward the tree the elk had been grazing next to and there is nothing there. No arrow and no blood. I suddenly get a sinking feeling that I f)&$ed it up again. I spend the next 6 hours grid searching the square mile away and towards the direction the spike elk ran for any sign of where he went, any blood or my arrow and I found nothing.
I go home dejected and resigned to the idea that archery and I might need some time apart maybe even see other people. I returned to that drainage two more days that week looking for any sign of the spike elk and on the third day experienced a dueling bull elk session between to public bull elk fighting for herd dominance like you see on YouTube. The problem is this drainage and area is so thick with vegetation I could not get a shooting lane or sight of the bulls with the exception of some antler tip tops through the brush. Needless to say I bumped those elk out trying to get a shooting lane and was eating tag soup for the fifth archery season in a row.
That same afternoon a friend called and asked for help packing out his elk he just killed. I quickly obliged and headed to help him pack out his 5x5 bull. This was his first bull elk and he was overjoyed for the experience and for the assistance. I enjoyed the beer and burgers we had after we completed the pack out and was handsomely rewarded with 10 pounds of delicious antelope sausage.
Fast forward to the rifle opener and a good friend and I drive to a trailhead and while en route at about 430 am we see a large elk herd in the private ranch below the public. There are multiple bulls and one large herd bull in the group visible in my headlights. They immediately spook and run up hill over the hill closer to public. We are both very excited for the potential. We quickly park the truck and start hiking up the ridge to get above the last known location of the herd’s last trajectory. We are both watching the clock waiting for legal shooting light glassing down through the thick timber waiting for a glimpse of the herd. Right on queue at the 30 minute mark before sunrise my ears are greeted by the sound of 10 rifle rounds being fired in short succession and then another 4 rounds about 10 minutes later. I assumed the worst at this point that there was a large group of hunters on the private ranch below that had just emptied the herd of all the bulls in the herd.
We huddled back together to formulate a new plan. About a week previously while I had been deer hunting I had seen a lone bull running across a field at 2 pm he looked small at the time but that field was only a 1/2 mile away from our location. I told my friend about and we quietly stalked down a game trail looking for new remnants of the new likely dispersed herd.
As we still hunted down the game trail I saw a multiple horizontal bars of light brown in between the dead fall. My buddy whispers elk. I scanned the brown and saw a pair of antler tines on the only elk who was standing. I quickly shouldered my rifle and put my crosshairs on the rib cage of the elk with antler and pulled the trigger.
Boom my rifle belched and I saw my elk drop. All of a sudden about six cows jump to their feet and run up hill away from their only male companion. I run over and put an anchor shot in the bull because he was still kicking and trying to get up as he coughed up blood.
I look at my friend who I have hunted (unsuccessfully) most of my archery seasons with and we both high five and hug and send up numerous prayers of gratitude for the unlikely success. While most people would not call my bull a trophy he was an amazing trophy for me after 6 years of no success hunting bull elk.
We happily packed meat all day and afternoon and we were both home in time to have dinner with our families. I have also made it a tradition to take some of the backstrap and eat it tar tar on the animal. Which is surprisingly satisfying during the hard work of field dressing and elk.
Fast forward to the 2023 season.
After an unsuccessful 10 day Alaskan Caribou hunt in September, I returned home humbled by the arctic and G-Bears and set off for a backcountry rifle elk.
I packed into a remote area the night before opening morning. I thought I was the only person in my drainage however I was incorrect as a I started to follow some fresh elk tracks in the mud. I was treated to another concert of opening day rifle shots. I continued up along my track. I hiked a long loop around the top of the drainage and discovered that there were three outfitter camps in the drainage. I decided that I wasn’t going to find any more elk and decided to hike out a tiny finger ridge. I saw two bull moose on my way out. And with only 30 minutes of legal shooting light I saw a small rag horn bull about 3/4 of a mile. However, he was directly above a band of 500 foot cliffs. I decided that being 12 miles back that the bull was in too precarious of a spot to risk trying to get to shoot. I returned to camp and start game planning a different spot. I load up and hike out the next morning.
I am posting this elk hunt. It started in 2022. 2022 was a cool year because I was able to hunt archery elk and rifle elk in the same season. Due to left over tag opportunities.
The year started out slow and a little hot. After the first three days I found a forage and cool pocket for the elk and was able to sneak with 35 yards of a spike elk. I have not successfully arrowed an elk yet but I am not going to be picky any legal elk within 50 yards is good enough for me.
The woods are thick and timbered on this cool September morning. I was in the bottom of a small creek bed at 530 and I let out a locate bugle and I heard some crashing through the brush up hill of me and within 30 seconds there is the shadow of an elk only 10 yards away from me but it is too early because I can’t see my pins in the sight of my bow. I start shaking at the anticipation and I look over and I can see the shadow of his head and I can tell he is a spike.
I hear him walk up hill and he starts bugling looking for the source of the bull he heard. I trail him up hill the wind in my face and I don’t call till I get to the plateau of the hill that he walked up to. After getting to the top the sun has now risen enough to make it legal shooting light and I let out a bull bugle again but this time nothing. I then let out a cow call about five minutes later and I hear the spike’s whining bugle once again.
I creep through the woods looking and glancing for the spike. All of a sudden I see him standing with his head framed between a downed pine tree and two lodge pole pines staring right at me. I freeze but we are looking at each other about 45 yards away. He barks and walks away. I quickly walk toward where he was and I see the game trail he went down and I start to follow it down the path.
I catch up to him about 20 minutes later and he is slowly grazing and quartering away from under a canopy of lodge pole pines. I notch an arrow and range him at 35 yards. The only thing in my sight and peep is pins and elk hide. I launch an arrow and an explosion of noise movement and crashing as the spike elk bolts away through the woods. I am shaking convinced I have finally achieved my goal of an archery elk. I quickly walk over toward the tree the elk had been grazing next to and there is nothing there. No arrow and no blood. I suddenly get a sinking feeling that I f)&$ed it up again. I spend the next 6 hours grid searching the square mile away and towards the direction the spike elk ran for any sign of where he went, any blood or my arrow and I found nothing.
I go home dejected and resigned to the idea that archery and I might need some time apart maybe even see other people. I returned to that drainage two more days that week looking for any sign of the spike elk and on the third day experienced a dueling bull elk session between to public bull elk fighting for herd dominance like you see on YouTube. The problem is this drainage and area is so thick with vegetation I could not get a shooting lane or sight of the bulls with the exception of some antler tip tops through the brush. Needless to say I bumped those elk out trying to get a shooting lane and was eating tag soup for the fifth archery season in a row.
That same afternoon a friend called and asked for help packing out his elk he just killed. I quickly obliged and headed to help him pack out his 5x5 bull. This was his first bull elk and he was overjoyed for the experience and for the assistance. I enjoyed the beer and burgers we had after we completed the pack out and was handsomely rewarded with 10 pounds of delicious antelope sausage.
Fast forward to the rifle opener and a good friend and I drive to a trailhead and while en route at about 430 am we see a large elk herd in the private ranch below the public. There are multiple bulls and one large herd bull in the group visible in my headlights. They immediately spook and run up hill over the hill closer to public. We are both very excited for the potential. We quickly park the truck and start hiking up the ridge to get above the last known location of the herd’s last trajectory. We are both watching the clock waiting for legal shooting light glassing down through the thick timber waiting for a glimpse of the herd. Right on queue at the 30 minute mark before sunrise my ears are greeted by the sound of 10 rifle rounds being fired in short succession and then another 4 rounds about 10 minutes later. I assumed the worst at this point that there was a large group of hunters on the private ranch below that had just emptied the herd of all the bulls in the herd.
We huddled back together to formulate a new plan. About a week previously while I had been deer hunting I had seen a lone bull running across a field at 2 pm he looked small at the time but that field was only a 1/2 mile away from our location. I told my friend about and we quietly stalked down a game trail looking for new remnants of the new likely dispersed herd.
As we still hunted down the game trail I saw a multiple horizontal bars of light brown in between the dead fall. My buddy whispers elk. I scanned the brown and saw a pair of antler tines on the only elk who was standing. I quickly shouldered my rifle and put my crosshairs on the rib cage of the elk with antler and pulled the trigger.
Boom my rifle belched and I saw my elk drop. All of a sudden about six cows jump to their feet and run up hill away from their only male companion. I run over and put an anchor shot in the bull because he was still kicking and trying to get up as he coughed up blood.
I look at my friend who I have hunted (unsuccessfully) most of my archery seasons with and we both high five and hug and send up numerous prayers of gratitude for the unlikely success. While most people would not call my bull a trophy he was an amazing trophy for me after 6 years of no success hunting bull elk.
We happily packed meat all day and afternoon and we were both home in time to have dinner with our families. I have also made it a tradition to take some of the backstrap and eat it tar tar on the animal. Which is surprisingly satisfying during the hard work of field dressing and elk.
Fast forward to the 2023 season.
After an unsuccessful 10 day Alaskan Caribou hunt in September, I returned home humbled by the arctic and G-Bears and set off for a backcountry rifle elk.
I packed into a remote area the night before opening morning. I thought I was the only person in my drainage however I was incorrect as a I started to follow some fresh elk tracks in the mud. I was treated to another concert of opening day rifle shots. I continued up along my track. I hiked a long loop around the top of the drainage and discovered that there were three outfitter camps in the drainage. I decided that I wasn’t going to find any more elk and decided to hike out a tiny finger ridge. I saw two bull moose on my way out. And with only 30 minutes of legal shooting light I saw a small rag horn bull about 3/4 of a mile. However, he was directly above a band of 500 foot cliffs. I decided that being 12 miles back that the bull was in too precarious of a spot to risk trying to get to shoot. I returned to camp and start game planning a different spot. I load up and hike out the next morning.
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