Although he'd killed a nice 6pt bull with a rifle several years ago, I'd always hoped Casey would join me on an elk bowhunt at some point, but the years continued to roll by. Between year-round wrestling, college, marriage, and then 3 sons of his own, I was beginning to wonder if it would ever happen. He's lived in Denver since completing his internship, so he'd have to go through the nonresident draw process. A few years ago, I told him to start buying preference points so he'd be guaranteed to draw a tag when the time came.
Late last year, Casey told me he was finally going to be able to set aside a week to go elk hunting. I was absolutely thrilled, yet I'd be lying if I didn't tell you I was apprehensive at the same time. Even though we were both elated at the thought of finally being able to bowhunt elk together, we were also both keenly aware of that elephant in the room...was he going to be able to shoot a bow again without the TP demon raising it's ugly head?
Since I was looking for an excuse to get a new bow anyway, I gave Casey my 350 Destroyer, along with some FMJ's and Snuffer BH's. I also gave him my Carter Backstrap release, which was instrumental in helping me overcome my own target panic several years ago. After some instruction, all we could do was hope for the best.
After a week or so, Casey called and said he was having difficulty getting used to the Backstrap. I told him I still had a Scott Rhino with a spring trigger lying around that he could try. It had worked well for me when I was transitioning from the Backstrap to a "normal" release. This turned out to be just the ticket for him, and he was able to float his pin over the spot he wanted to hit until the release fired...at least from 3yds in his garage! I distinctly remember him telling me he hoped he could get to the point where he felt comfortable taking a 20yd shot once bowseason arrived. This was going to be interesting to say the least!
Throughout the summer, he sent me pics of his practice sessions. After a few hints, he slowly started to extend his range. When he sent me a text showing his latest 50yd group, I knew he was more than capable of making a shot out to 40yds, which was now his self-imposed limit. However, there's a huge difference between shooting foam under static conditions, and shooting at a living, breathing animal when your heart's pounding out of your throat. He studied tons of elk photos, getting used to picking the exact spot to aim. He was a great student, but only time would tell if he could keep his emotions under control if, and when, the moment of truth arrived.
Thanks, Rick! Although you're never "cured" of TP, you can certainly learn to control it.
The next evening, we once again headed to the treestand. After making sure Casey was safely attached and ready to rock and roll, I got in my blind and called off and on throughout the evening. When it was time to leave, I walked over to the tree and could see Casey had a smirk on his face. He asked me if I saw the cow. My response was "What cow"? Not 15 minutes after getting settled in, a cow had walked in and stopped 6yds from Casey's tree, and less than 10yds from my blind. Only problem was, I couldn't see her from the window I had opened up. When she heard mews coming from so close, and knowing an elk wasn't standing there, she pretty much figured something wasn't quite as it should be! She took that as a hint that she would be better off elsewhere, and quickly departed the premises. Since it had recently rained, I didn't hear her either, so this bit of news came as quite a surprise, to say the least! Although he wasn't interested in a cow, I knew I would have screwed things up royally had that cow been a bull. I sheepishly told Casey that he needed to do all the calling from that point on. I'd just sit in the blind and provide moral support. He thought that would be a good idea.
Never heard of target panic?
Elkaddict's Link
It sucks. I shot competitively for 15 years and then had to give it up after TP set in. I control it now.....well at least manage it.
Kind of wish I hadn't asked.....
Keep the pictures coming!
DJ
I told him he had made a common mistake many inexperienced hunters make. When the situation changed from what he thought it would be, he didn't adjust. As he related his story, I couldn't help but laugh inside. He was still so shook up he could hardly talk! I knew he was hooked! Even though it hadn't ended as we'd hoped, he'd experienced an up-close elk encounter that I knew would help him down the road. Every lesson learned would help him through the process of becoming a successful elk hunter.
The bull bugled just often enough to keep tabs on his general direction. After a half mile, we finally got close enough to hear him walking. I once again backed off and threw everything but the kitchen sink at him. It was starting to warm up, and I knew his cows were heading off to their bedding area. Just like earlier in the morning, he simply wasn't going to leave them.
It was just before 9 a.m., which is when the thermals normally switch on this ridge. Rather than take a chance at needlessly pushing them out of the area, I decided it would be best to back out. We took a short break, and sure enough, the thermals started to shift. With the slight breeze in our face, we started back down the ridge.
We had walked less than 200yds when we came upon an old clearcut. We had just started into the open when I told Casey to freeze. I spotted a cow walking into the bottom end, maybe 70yds away. I told Casey to get ready, because there would most likely be a bull in tow. Sure enough, a small raghorn was trailing her like a bird dog. If they continued on the same path, they'd be in range when they crossed in front of us. Unfortunately, the thermals were still in transition and the elk caught a whiff of something they knew meant them harm. Needless to say, they swapped ends and headed back in the direction they had come. I immediately hit some mews and we were both shocked to hear a bugle VERY close. It was obvious this was a different bull. It was also obvious this was no raghorn! I told Casey to set up and get ready. I moved back and hit some more mews, hoping to draw the bull out so Casey could have a shot. He roared back, but he was holding his ground. I then hit a small squeal. The echo had no sooner died when I heard a crash and saw a flash of elk on a dead run straight toward me from a different direction than the bugles had come from. I hugged the ground as the large 5x5 slammed on the brakes 25yds from me. I knew he had to be close to Casey, so I expected to hear the sound of his bow going off. After what seemed like an eternity, the bull turned around and trotted off. Anyone who hunts elk knows how quickly you can go from the highest of highs, to the lowest of lows. This was one such moment. When I walked up to Casey, I could see both the disappointment, as well as the exhilaration, in his eyes. The bull had stopped 14yds, broadside. Casey said he almost shot, but there were some dead branches hanging down between him and the bull. As much as he wanted to shoot, he didn't want to force a risky shot. I can't tell you how proud I was of him!
Saturday morning, we headed out for Casey's last hunt. After we parked the atv's, we walked up the old logging road and waited for shooting light. We hadn't went far when we heard a bugle up on a ridge. I knew the elk were just on the other side of an open hillside. More importantly, I also knew where they were most likely headed. I told Casey to get on his running shoes, and off we went. I figured the elk would cross a small saddle that I was very familiar with, but I also knew we would be hard pressed to beat them there. We were less than 100yds from where I wanted to be when Casey said he saw a cow. How she didn't bust us, I'll never know, but the Good Lord was definitely looking out for us! We froze, and finally she went back to feeding. The herd bull was bugling, but we had yet to see him. I told Casey to move forward a bit, then motion to me when he was ready. When he gave me the thumbs up, I backed up further, tucked in behind some young pines, and did my best to make something happen. This saddle is more open than most areas, so I was more than a little hopeful that I could draw something within range.
I couldn't see the bull from where I was, but he put on quite a show for Casey. The closest he got was around 60yds before the cows started moving off, with him bringing up the rear. I waited for Casey to give me the go-ahead. When he did, I slowly eased up to where he was standing. As we were discussing how we were going to reposition on the herd, I was looking in their direction, while Casey was facing me. His eyes got big as he whispered "Don't move, there's an elk up on the ridge." I slowly turned my head and saw what I thought was a spike slowly moving in the direction of the herd. I gave a couple mews, hoping to get him headed in our direction, which he did. He finally stopped, but from his demeanor, I knew he wasn't coming any closer. Casey asked me "how far", so I slowly reached down and freed my rangefinder. When I hit the button, the readout showed 18.4 meters. "WHAT THE $@*&%!!!" I have no idea what had happened to my rangefinder, but at the time he needed me most, I felt like I was letting my son down. I was just going to have to range the bull the old-fashioned way. My first thought was 40yds, but my second thought was a little further. I compromised and told him "45". Casey said he was going to take the shot. The first thing that entered my mind was how calm he sounded. I told him if he felt confident and comfortable with the shot, then make sure the pin's solid, slowly squeeze the trigger, and follow through. Although this was going to be a little further than his self-imposed limit, his calm demeanor gave me the confidence to give him the go-ahead.
At the shot, I heard the impact of the arrow and watched the reaction of the bull. There was no doubt he had hit him. I only hoped and prayed it was a good hit. Casey's first reaction was doubt. He said he saw the arrow going exactly where he wanted, but then lost sight of it. Although he felt he made a good shot, he had never heard the sound of an arrow hit an animal before. He said it sounded loud and was afraid he hit shoulder bone. I assured him from the sound, that wasn't the case. Now came the hard part...waiting
The bull then turned and headed back into the timber. From the amount of blood, I assured Casey that he had indeed made his first bow kill. I kept looking ahead, expecting to see the elk.
This was a special hunt for Casey, but even more so for his old man. The sad part is, it'll more than likely be a few years before he draws again. In the meantime, I'll keep his seat warm, counting down the days!
Good job guessing the range. If you'd have screwed the pooch on the guess and he made a bad shot because of it, you'd still be kicking yourself.
Congratulations!
What's TP??? lol!
Best of luck, Jeff
Mark
TB comes and goes for all of us---1 hunt or the other---
Congrats
Good luck, Robb
