diamond hitch
Well-known member
I'll try not to make this too long but hang on. In 1978, hunting season had been long, dry and miserable. I had crawled through every north side thicket I knew - twice, with no luck. Finally on the day before thanksgiving, we got a skiff of snow and I went to the far reaches of my normal hunting range and picked up the tracks of three bulls. As usual, going up. I followed them to a place my father had camped while on trail crew in the 30s. He said it was an exciting place where during a lightning storm the lightning bolts alternated between the two knobs on either side of the tent. Kind of made your hair stand on end with each strike.
As I approached his camp site the bulls stood briefly then jumped off the 6 ft cliff off the backside into a clearcut. By the time I got up there they were gone. It was about 3:30 and I had to go home for Thanksgiving. I was out about 5 miles and I started for home as it was a 300 mile trip.
Knowing where the elk were made the holiday drag on. As soon as my wife released me I headed back to pick up where I left off. Saturday morning found me in a foot of snow, tracking a small herd through a peckerpole thicket. At about 10 ft a bull stood up and took off. It was so thick you had to hold your rifle verticle to turn. I tracked him back toward camp. He dropped over the north side of the ridge and every little thicket he seemed to pick up 5-6 elk. About 3 miles later, I broke out of the jungle into the regen of a clearcut below where I had jumped them initially before thanksgiving. The trees were about 6 ft high and a solid blanket. Suddenly I could see legs at about 10 ft but no bodies. Next to me was a big larch stump about 4 ft wide. I figured if I crawled up on the stump maybe I could see them from above. As I stood up I turned and was staring eye to eye at the bull at about 10ft. I think there was a little shock for both of us giving a couple second delay. Then he bolted and I got a running shot at nearly point blank range but through the mass of young fir trees. By the grace of god, I drew blood. With a steady blood trail he ran down a rocky hogback, crossed a road and continued toward the bottom. I followed closely about a mile and jumped him again at a small cliff. He jumped off the ledge and ran down the face of a boulder field I couldn't have crawled down. I ran to the edge and took a bead on the back of his neck. At the shot, he rolled the last 30 ft into the bottom.
Twenty minutes later I found a way through the rocks to gut him out. The next task was gaining 1000ft of elevation back to the ridge top to the horses about 3 miles away. About 3hrs later as I approached the trail a nice mulie jumped up and bounced down the path I had just crawled up. I took a pretty good lead and as he jumped the second road I squeezed the trigger and down he went.
I found my partner and the horses and we headed back down the clearcut to the buck. As we neared the second road we hit a patch of ice and horses fell down and slid under me and I rode a halr toboggen to the road and the deer. I got the deer dressed out and loaded on my horse but was too exhausted to go up to the ridge again. We walked out the road to the top and then worked our way back to camp about 4 miles. It sure was nice to be young.
We spent a little time in camp and then decided to pull camp that night since we would have to get the bull from the bottom tomorrow. We made it to my fathers house about 3:00 am. It's amazing just how tough we were in our twenties.
As I approached his camp site the bulls stood briefly then jumped off the 6 ft cliff off the backside into a clearcut. By the time I got up there they were gone. It was about 3:30 and I had to go home for Thanksgiving. I was out about 5 miles and I started for home as it was a 300 mile trip.
Knowing where the elk were made the holiday drag on. As soon as my wife released me I headed back to pick up where I left off. Saturday morning found me in a foot of snow, tracking a small herd through a peckerpole thicket. At about 10 ft a bull stood up and took off. It was so thick you had to hold your rifle verticle to turn. I tracked him back toward camp. He dropped over the north side of the ridge and every little thicket he seemed to pick up 5-6 elk. About 3 miles later, I broke out of the jungle into the regen of a clearcut below where I had jumped them initially before thanksgiving. The trees were about 6 ft high and a solid blanket. Suddenly I could see legs at about 10 ft but no bodies. Next to me was a big larch stump about 4 ft wide. I figured if I crawled up on the stump maybe I could see them from above. As I stood up I turned and was staring eye to eye at the bull at about 10ft. I think there was a little shock for both of us giving a couple second delay. Then he bolted and I got a running shot at nearly point blank range but through the mass of young fir trees. By the grace of god, I drew blood. With a steady blood trail he ran down a rocky hogback, crossed a road and continued toward the bottom. I followed closely about a mile and jumped him again at a small cliff. He jumped off the ledge and ran down the face of a boulder field I couldn't have crawled down. I ran to the edge and took a bead on the back of his neck. At the shot, he rolled the last 30 ft into the bottom.
Twenty minutes later I found a way through the rocks to gut him out. The next task was gaining 1000ft of elevation back to the ridge top to the horses about 3 miles away. About 3hrs later as I approached the trail a nice mulie jumped up and bounced down the path I had just crawled up. I took a pretty good lead and as he jumped the second road I squeezed the trigger and down he went.
I found my partner and the horses and we headed back down the clearcut to the buck. As we neared the second road we hit a patch of ice and horses fell down and slid under me and I rode a halr toboggen to the road and the deer. I got the deer dressed out and loaded on my horse but was too exhausted to go up to the ridge again. We walked out the road to the top and then worked our way back to camp about 4 miles. It sure was nice to be young.
We spent a little time in camp and then decided to pull camp that night since we would have to get the bull from the bottom tomorrow. We made it to my fathers house about 3:00 am. It's amazing just how tough we were in our twenties.
