I had heard all the rumors about how many elk there are in this unit and how it will be hard to sleep amongst all the bugles. I didn't experience the bugles, I did however have great time in the mountains and proved to myself my mountain legs and lungs (and hip!) were slightly better than I had thought.
My girlfriend and I arrived the Sunday before my hunt on Thursday, we set up camp and started talking to the fellas who had the first hunt.
Willy was helping Robert guide some Pennsylvania guys on their first elk hunt. Despite being Steeler fans they were some good guys having a great time getting in on some elk. The first hunt had minimal bugling at best, spot and stalk was the way to go.
The rain had caused some big washout/ puddles on the way so I tested the waters before he pulled the trailer through. I stopped on the dry stuff to feel out the soaked ground and to my surprise I found this!
Best elk hunt of my life, and one of the top two or three, overall.
Can't wait to read more James.
Good luck, Robb
One of their hunters tagged out just before I landed in camp and the second hunter lucked out on the last day's hunt. Another Non res guy from California scored on a nice bull with nice 3rds, loooong 4ths, and nice 5ths. Beautiful bull probably 340ish which was the biggest anyone (that we knew of) took in the first hunt. I swear they must've had hooves knowing where they packed that bull out of.
My first day hunting I wasn't quite sure where to go. I tried to scout, but at the same time I did not want to interfere with other hunters so my scouting was shallow to say the least. I head up toward a known bedding area hoping some elk would feed up into me but they were moving later than I had expected with a bright moon and the thermals quickly became my enemy.
I spotted a few elk in the bottom but couldn't make out any bulls. I backed out before I blew them out and along the way found a nice piece of bone. Being as this was a recent shed I knew this bull was most likely alive and I would be elated to harvest one of this caliber.
Bugles were sparse, typical morning and evening with no real conviction.
That evening I heard some bugles from across the canyon and glassed a herd being governed by what looked to be a small bull. I could only make out his spread. This is where I was headed tomorrow.
That evening I ventured to where I had seen the herd, after about 1000+ft climb I got into some timber where a there was some regular bugles from above. I tried to circle to move in but was limited by a deep rocky ravine, so I circled the other way and met the herd. This time they were accompanied by an old mature bull. Big body sway bellied WIDE dark horned beautiful bull. As I glassed him I could see he was missing his 2nd and 3rd on one side (not broken, but didn't grow), the other side was nice but barely a 6th pt, a big 4x6. Thankfully I did not move on him b/c they did not feed to where they had the previous night, they were feeding away from my bugles and the other bull's bugles. I would've gladly taken that herd bull but I had no cover to work with.
I decided to work the vocal bull as I thought he was a gamer, I raked, called and waited. A spike came straight to my sounds. I tried to draw on him to see if I could, but he caught my pack moving from the back side of the tree, kinda forgot I'm wider than usual. He was off, yet the bull on top was still there. I moved in. After hearing a few grunts and bugles I think he had some cows and by the time I crept to the top he had pushed them over and moved on. It was getting dark and bugles had ceased on my mountain and others in ear shot so I hunted my way out.
The bull was moving the same direction (right to left) but on the ridge. I hustled but could not get in front of the bull. He steadily moved along the ridge and over. That evening I moved to a previously visited mountain.
I worked my way slowly in the heat up 1400ft just to hear a bull in the bottom. He bellowed almost like a red stag BUUUUURRRRRRRRRP, I had no idea what I heard. Then again BUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRP.. chuckle chuckle with little to no high pitch, he did this several times. I never laid eyes on him but could only imagine. I had other bulls bugling all around me but none were accessible and none were coming to my bugles. My 1400ft descend was in the dark. Thankfully Maria had returned to camp, I was beat.
It's refreshing to hear that USO was friendly and willing to help you out to a certain extent. Too many times outfitters become possessive and competitive of the territory due to $$$ involved and don't work together so everyone has a good hunt. It's great when two parties can work together as to not mess each others hunt up.
The property I hunt in Eastern CO for deer shares a common boundary (fence line for 5 miles) with a big outfitter. For years they acted like they owned the deer and would mess us up on purpose on that boundary so we didn't kill "their" deer. I finally got know their head guide who's a hell of a hunter and now they go out of their way to not mess up our hunt and we do the same for them. We've even both called each other when we knew of a big buck bedded on each others ground so their clients or our group could get a chance to kill it.
Hope to see a big bull at the end of this thread. Thanks for sharing.
Glad you're getting into elk. Great place. I want to go back and fish there, sometime.
And he stalls at "Get the decoy out?!?!?!?!" Caaamman man!
Maria makes the gesture w/ her hands 2 pointing up the ridge, there is another elk! This explains the bugle exchanges, he is on a string to the Raker. They are both uphill from us, I drop to my knees giving me a better view. The Raker is at 12 oclock, the intruder is at about 2 oclock. He is moving slow, a few steps and stops.. few steps and stops. He's at 1 oclock with small debris hanging in the way. I range him, 51yds. He stands like a statue, no doubt he is a shooter in my book.
2 more steps he turns only his head acknowledging the decoy and my homemade cow hat. Without effort he throws out a bugle as to say "its ok ladies, I got this", turns his focus back to the Raker and continues his stealthy approach. He made zero sound as he moved across the crunchy ground riddled with pin needles.
His slow approach made this picture perfect. I drew and punched the trigger sending my qad exodus at his vitals. I saw a flash of the arrow and heard the hit, that sweet sweet sound like hitting a pumpkin. He took off in a dead run straight down the hill towards the soft bottom, I immediately poured on the cow calls. The Raker oblivious to everything was dumbfounded and casually walked off.
I tried to hold off, but just had to get to where he was standing. Nothing, no blood, no tracks, no arrow.. I was puzzled and light was fading. I kept ranging a rock I was near to confirm the distance.. no dice. When it was time to turn on the lights I knew it was time to back out, we would probably do more harm than good.
They suggested going in a little late w/ good light. We did, after repeating everything I did the night before I still couldn't put my finger on it. One guide, Mike, was looking well beyond where the bull was and asked me "are you sure he wasn't here?" I replied, no way would I shoot that far. He found scuff marks as the other guide, Paul, tried to cut a track below.
Mike: "I got blood"
Turns out I wasn't where I thought I was and the 50yd shot was shifted about 15yds, again I was so sure.
'Turns out I wasn't where I thought I was and the 50yd shot was shifted about 15yds, again I was so sure'
Then ya typed
' He was 50yds perfect broadside'
This is turning into a 20 hour in Labor before the birth---haha
Good luck, Robb
I'd get fired if I took this long to get a short article written.
We've also found out that "to be continued" articles don't do well because people lose interest or get pizzed off...
More pics, too, I hope!
Link, you are spot on in your assessment.
Mike: "I got blood"
I bee line it straight to him, Paul who is 3/4 side hilling stoops down "is that him". Sure enough less than 100yds away he was piled up. He was even turned around facing the direction he came from, I doubt he had any idea he was hit and was probably watching the Raker move on or heard the cow calls.
I was so elated, I was very pessimistic about this recovery based on the night before.
The blood trail, that we saw, was one drop followed by a splash about the size of 2 hands, from there you could see him. But still no arrow. The side shown is the exit.
We took some pictures and Mike went to find the arrow. He comes back, "I found your arrow, it was stuck in a tree!"
The shot was a tad high which would explain the immediate light blood trail, had he made it further I'm sure it would've opened up.
As always you're learning new things every time in the elk woods. I know I should've been a little more studious and less stubborn relative to my position (and the elk's) at the shot.
The elk in the Valle don't respond as well as you'd think to calls, and it wasn't nearly as easy as I thought it would be despite the elk numbers.
thanks for sharing!
Time for some stew!
When she killed her elk she insisted on carrying, not packing, out her elk's head. I think her determination exceeds mine. Being mostly a solo hunter it was awesome to have her there to share the experience.
--Mitch
I know I laid eyes on a few old bulls. The one I saw looked good from the side, but when he turned he was 48"+ to my untrained eye. Huge bodied animal. Talked to a guy who was part of a 55" 5x5 harvest.
Congrats
Good luck, Robb
I seriously laughed out loud on the frontal/Texas Heart Shot paragraph....gotta love elk camp!!
Bill V
Good bull.
Great experience.
Thanks for sharing.
