Tell us about your elk failures

[MTGomer]

I’ve hunted elk for hundreds upon hundreds of days and killed about 15 of them. Depending how you define success, I suppose that means I’ve had hundreds of failures.

The worst was when I drew back on a real nice 340 ish bull standing broadside dead to rights and somehow on the draw, my release went off and my arrow made it about halfway to the bull. I must have had my finger in front of it, which I never have done before or after.
It startled him enough that he walked out to 120 yards and stared at me and bugled, and walked right out of this story.

 

[brymoore]

I have a long series of elk failures sprinkled with a few elk wins.

 

[Dougfirtree]

Still kinda haunted by the elk I shot at two years ago. It was a 40 yard shot, through a narrow corridor in the timber. It felt good, but absolutely no sign of a hit. Not one hair on the ground and hours of searching revealed not one drop of blood. But, quite a bit of searching along the shooting corridor didn't reveal any bullet holes in the trees. The complete lack of sign, after a lengthy search, makes me lean towards a miss. But, I'll never know. Hate that.

 

[BuzzH]

I never really have found elk to be hard to find, hunt, and get killed, I can only recall a few times when they gave me the slip.

I had a very good bull in Arizona snake out the bottom of a canyon on me when hunting with AZ402. Not sure why but on opening morning, right after first light, something spooked him (we thought maybe a lion or bear). Good bull 350+ and unbroken. About 20 minutes later I shot one of his buddies, a nice 6 point.

Passed a solid 325 bull in the breaks with the first rifle tag I drew there, big mistake, but my fault for just not pulling the trigger.

Missed a 340+ bull with my bow once trying to thread an arrow through a tight window...which turned out for the better since a few days later I shot the biggest bull I've ever killed 370+ gross.

My nightmares revolve around big whitetail bucks in the thick timber of NW Montana...

 

[JEL]

I suck at elk hunting. I just do. I mean I have killed some cows and spikes over the years with rifle and bow but for the most part I am really bad at it. My biggest gaff was taking an afternoon nap in the breaks and waking up to a 5 point bull 20 yards from me and walking my way without a clue. My bow was NOT within reach.

 

[TheTone]

I dogged a herd of 50-60 head for three days the last week of 2011 archery season. Finally on the last day I got in front of them and watched most of them filter by at about 60 yards with two bulls bugling and trailing them. I Got on the same trail as a five point trailing them and had him walk straight at me until he finally saw me sitting in the trail at about 15-20 feet. No chance for a frontal shot as a small tree was between us. He spun to run so fast he fell down and then stopped at about 20 yards. I promptly fired an arrow into who knows where missing him completely. He ran out and bugled at me again before wandering off. I shot a spike about 10 minutes later after giving myself a pep talk where I convinced myself I knew how to shoot a bow

 

[rmyoung1]

What do I add that hasn’t already been said? I dunno. They’ve never come easy for me. Even cow elk hunting has given me plenty to handle over the years. And there’s not another animal that seems better at reading whatever tag rests in my pocket and then getting the word out. A few years back, I was hunting a MT district open to branch-antlered bulls and cows. Best opportunity I had that week was a group of three that had no idea I was in the world. All spikes. A couple of years earlier I was hunting cows in MT’s 455. Three bulls stood and stared at me at 40 yards. The cows never left private. Just drives me batty sometimes.

 

[noharleyyet]

I passed on a decent bull in a crowded unit of SW CO the second day of my first ever elk hunt. Wouldn't see another elk for the next three seasons when I heard a volley of shots and a good bull popped over a ridge trotting toward me at about 90 yards. Now being the seasoned elk hunter I come up with the brilliant idea of stopping him with a hoochie mama....he's gone before the squeeze re-inflates.

 

[npaden]

I have had more failures going after elk than successes, but have a couple that I think are worth sharing.

2015 or 2016 - Montana General Tag - Snowy miserable day, I worked my hunting partner too hard the day before so he decides he is just going to stay in camp. I get out a few miles and with a couple hours before dark spot a good bull about a mile away up on a mountain laying in an open spot in the snow. I look at the lay of the land and it looks like I can move in unseen to maybe 300 or 400 yards across another little canyon. I head out and get myself out of sight of the bull and make my way over to the ridge opposite the bull (or so I thought). I wandered over a bit with some extra elevation that I hadn't seen when I started and end up walking back and forth and can't turn him up. I go on over to the where I remembered him being bedded and try to sneak up on him and walk back and forth all over the area and he is nowhere to be found. I finally give up and start heading back to camp. When I get back to where I had originally glassed him up, I look back over and he is bedded in exactly the same spot. I hadn't gotten the lay of the land quite right and I had been stomping around about 100 feet below him on the same ridge he was on and never saw him. By this time it was too late to make a move on him before dark so I threw out a few bugles thinking I might get him interested but within a few minutes he just got up and left out the opposite way. Not sure he really even heard me or not. I tried to track him down the next morning but never saw him again. Didn't get an elk that trip. I now try to remember to take a few pictures of the lay of the land on my phone before making a stalk like that, especially if I am going to be out of sight of the animals for a good portion of it.

2018 - Arizona Late Bull Tag - Opening morning, spotted a group of 7 or 8 bulls across a canyon bedded down, kind of the same scenario as above, made about a 1/2 mile stalk on them up a side ridge out of sight and got within 350 yards of them. Glassed and glassed and just couldn't turn up a bull I was wanting to shoot on opening morning. Moved around a bit and closed to about 300 yards with a much better shooting setup and kept looking for a good bull. Not sure if they saw me closing the gap a bit or what happened but they got up and started to move. Of course then I see a good bull in the mix that I was willing to shoot on opening morning. I got setup and had a real short shot opportunity but I didn't feel good so I didn't rush it. The good bull mixed in with the others and I waited and watched and never had a clear shot as they moved off into the brush. I got back on them a couple times but never had a shot at the good bull. I ended up filling the tag 5 days later but never saw a bull as nice as that one the rest of the time.

My one that got away was this bull that I had eyes on the evening before opening morning in New Mexico in 2010.

I was back there again the next morning a full hour before shooting light but never was able to find him. I did end up with a 300" 6x6 a few days later. That hunt was the tipping point that made me decide to get in better shape because after 3 days of hunting I was completely spent. Thankfully I shot my bull that evening.

Neat thread.

 

[Fatrack]

Last season I burned all 14 of my MT Elk points and drew a bull tag that I was pretty excited about. I hunted more days trying to fill that tag than I care to count; archery season was great and saw some big bulls, rifle season came and things changed dramatically. Bulls were scarce and hard to find. I had big hopes for this tag and there were bulls that had gotten a pass that I was starting to regret. Come mid November I had my chance. I found a giant bull late in the day and made a mad dash to try and get him killed. Light was fading quick and I couldn't find him...rather than risking it I was going to back out and come back in the morning. Then, with literally a couple minutes of legal light left, he pops out on a ridge and is silhouetted...a sight that I'll never forget. I quickly got set up for the shot, bipod down and in the prone position...finally I was going to fill this tag on a bull of my dreams. I range the bull but just couldn't get a range after several attempts. There was a patch of snow right below him and I can get like 320 on it. I take aim and at this point, I'm thinking I can't believe this is happening, breath...BOOM and he goes back over the ridge. I hear a very loud crack at the point of impact, at the time I remember it standing out as a little strange but at that distance and with the set up I had, there was no question he was over this hill dead. Shooting light has passed and its getting dark pretty quick. After taking my time, knowing that I had a long night ahead of me packing meat, I pack up my stuff and hike over to where he was standing. It's a full moon out so I can actually see pretty damn good and when I get to the snow patch that I ranged, I realized that even though it looked like the bull was standing right above it, the way the hill laid out it was actually quite a ways in front of the crest of the ridge that he was stand on. I think oh shit...I walk towards where the bull was standing, cross through a bunch of plate like rock, get to the crest of the hill and there he is, about 75 yards standing there feeding with 2 other bulls. It's dark out; but the full moon has it lit up real good, I can see them perfectly. It was a strange experience because even though I was standing there in full sight, silhouetted on the crest of the hill, they didn't care about me. What the hell do I do now. Shoot him and put him down? But its fricken almost an hour after shooting light. But is he even hit? I look at him in my binos and see no blood or markings against his bleach blonde hide. I back off to look for any signs of a hit. It hits me pretty hard that the snow patch I ranged was over 100 yds off and that loud crack I heard was my bullet crashing into the plate rock field in between the snow and elk. I snuck back up to the hill and watched 3 big bulls feed under the moonlight then hiked my sorry ass out, depressed. Never saw him again.

 

[Guy]

LOL - typically I walk around a lot, glass a lot, see some tracks... And don't see elk. That's kind of a summary of most years.

But I do enjoy the days in the hills.

 

[Deleted member 28227]

I never really have found elk to be hard to find, hunt, and get killed, I can only recall a few times when they gave me the slip.

 

[gouch]

Way back early in my elk hunting endeavors before I had actually ever killed an elk. I was bow hunting in the coast range of Oregon. Country that is pretty much straight up or straight down and covered in almost impenetrable brush. But those brushy canyons were full of elk. I was standing on a logging road on a ridge overlooking a canyon. On the opposite side was a spur ridge coming towards me with two steep canyons, one on either side. A mile or so away on the side of that ridge near the top I could see the color of an elk. Through my binoculars I could make out that it was a bull raking a bush with his antlers. It didn’t really matter that it was a bull, I was willing to take any elk. So I walked a quarter mile to the end of the road and then another 100 yards or so on an elk trail to where it dropped down into the canyon. I then slipped and slid and bounced down that muddy slope until I landed in a dense jungle of salmon berry and devil’s club. Which filled every exposed piece of skin with irritating little thorns. Then I bear crawl up the other side with brush tearing at my clothes and flesh every inch of the way until I reached a road that went along the opposite side of the canyon directly across from the ridge the elk was on. At one point I was completely exposed with nothing but air between me and the elk so I crawled on my hands and knees through a water filled ditch to keep from being seen. I finally got to where the road swung around and crossed the ridge so I then fought my way back just below the top on the opposite side of the ridge through brush and logging slash until I got to where I thought I was close to the elk. I crept over the top just to spooked two does who started snorting and wheezing as the bounced back toward where the elk actually was. I figured I had blown it so I started back along the ridge when I spotted the elk 50 yards away still raking that bush. It was at that point that I remembered that that unit had just that year changed to a 3 point or better bag limit. Cows were still legal so pretty much anything but a spike was fair game. I looked through my binos and sure enough he had nice 30 in. long antlers that curved inwards at the top but not a fork or brow tine to be seen. I decided to go ahead and see how close I could get. I got to within 15 to 20 feet and he still didn’t have a clue. I picked up a pebble and lobbed it over and hit him right in the ribs. He stopped what he was doing and just stood there. He finally looked around until he saw me. Instead of running he turned and took several steps towards me sniffing the air as he went. I said “you stupid animal I could kill you!” He kinda stood tall with his eyes bugged out for a second then slowly turned and tried to sneak off into the brush with me laughing at him the whole time. I was battered and bruised, soak and wet, covered in mud, filled with thorns, my clothes were shredded and I had no meat for the freezer but it was well worth the effort.

 

[BuzzH]

How hard can it be?

Age 12, first elk 1980:

72 elk later, 2019:

 

[Deleted member 28227]

@BuzzH

 

[davinski]

About kilt myself getting this one out:

Head over heels for elk

Colorado’s 2011 third rifle season arrived with the first real snowstorm of the winter. Saturday morning we woke up to fog and rain turning to snow at our camp. We decided we didn’t want to start …

davestories.wordpress.com

 

[sbhooper]

I was hunting cow elk south of Cody, Wyoming, a number of years back. From the road accessing that country, I glassed three elk on some rolling hills. I drove to the end of the road and took off in the direction that I had seen the elk. Like a dummy, I did not jack a round in chamber of my Remington SPS 7 mag. I crested a small rise and the three elk-cow, calf, and spike bull-stood up. I unslung my rife and when I cycled the bolt, the round popped up crooked and jammed. By the time it was straight, the elk decided that I probably was nothing good for them and the last I saw of them, they were going up the side of a rock spiral, that I would have thought a goat would have had trouble with. Those elk were no more than 150 yards away and would have been a chip shot.

As it turned out, the magazine box was messed up the way it sat in the stock. It took me some figuring, before I solved the problem. Live and learn.

 

[sbhooper]

Here's one..... me 13 or 14 years old. I had hunted elk with my dad and uncle with their friends a few times horse back. Had some encounters nothing really transpired I was hell bent on a bull or nothing. Rewind a bit all my young life I would listen to their stories of hunting the backcountry, going through hundreds of photos of them packing in camp and packing out bulls. All I could do is dream of getting my first bull.... Fast forward...... we go out a few times, nothing, this is harder than I thought. The last weekend of the season we go to Gardiner and it's dumping snow.......I remember helping saddle the ponies and they're looking at me, uncle says today's the day. We ride off, I can literally see elk everywhere in the moonlight I'm thinking why in the world have we been wasting our time everywhere else....... yes we're on the Deck early 00s. Thet get me setup on a bunch of elk with 3 bulls in it. The suns coming up and I'm quickly learning why we don't go there very often. There's 400 to 500 elk and seemed like more orange vests. 10 minutes before light guns are going off I'm holding on not shooting looking these bulls over in my scope it's a full on war zone going on around me we sit and wait and wait and finally dad says ok shoot. Immediately when he says that 2 of the 3 bulls get dumped I panic there's only 1 left. I breath put it right on him safety off KABOOM........ not from my gun. Someone shot the bull right out from underneath me, I turn to dad and uncle and say...... that guy just shot my bull. My dad's friend immediately responds ..... yeah well what do you want me to do about it go revive him! Get on your horse we gotta go...... later in the day I took a cow abs couldn't have been happier.

You weren't by chance north of Hayden, Colorado, were you? That used to be a familiar scene, where I hunted for a few years.

 

[sbhooper]

How hard can it be?

Age 12, first elk 1980:

72 elk later, 2019:

Damn, Buzz! You haven't changed a bit! I tend to agree with you about the elk. I have NEVER had an issue finding them, but finding and killing sometimes are two different things.

 

[EYJONAS!]

You weren't by chance north of Hayden, Colorado, were you? That used to be a familiar scene, where I hunted for a few years.

Deckard Flatts Jardine Montana