Contributors to this thread:
Ever do a prairie fire shot? I believe it’s tequila and tabasco. It’s hotter than hell. So is New Mexico elk country.
If I don’t get this done now, I won’t ever find the time. I love these types of threads and I want to thank those of you that take the time to share your adventures, as your stories are what drew me here in the first place. This story includes some lows as well as highs, but it is a bowhunter’s truth just the way it happened. Enjoy..............And bare with me.
I love the open country of New Mexico. I've never done prairie fire but I'll give it a shot sometime. Happy adventures.
This past April my wife and I had our second son, Porter, and I’d already told her I’d “take the year off”. The year off, by my definition, means 5 days with a good friend on his high country muley hunt, 17 days in September for elk scoutn/huntn/helping friends, a week or so huntn upland birds with Dad, an undecided amount of time helping Dad with his first ever mule deer tag and a couple days of mentoring/hunting with a first time hunters. Yes, my wife is an incredible woman and yes, this is very little hunting in my world. I’ll try to bang out the elk story and then post a bunch of pics of other memories made during my year “off”.
Hunting is surely not a hobby for me. It’s who I am. I like to think that some men are born to a calling that no longer exists. I was born to be a hunter, a rambler, an adventurer, an outdoorsman. I do my best with the world God placed me in. It pains me to hear people describe us as anything other than nature’s greatest advocates as, in a world without wild places we cease to exist.
"Maybe stalking the woods is as vital to the human condition as playing music or putting words to paper. Maybe hunting has as much of a claim on our civilized selves as anything else. After all, the earliest forms of representational art reflect hunters and prey. While the arts were making us spiritually viable, hunting did the heavy lifting of not only keeping us alive but inspiring us. To abhor hunting is to hate the place from which you came, which is akin to hating yourself in some distant, abstract way.” — Steven Rinella AMEN!
Bugling bulls make my soul sing. When a friend asked me if I’d like to apply together in NM in the “minimally guided” pool, I jumped on it. Porter was 11 days old when he and I checked my NM draw results. GREEN! I spent the summer being a Dad and trying to sneak in some research/prep when possible.
Looking forward to following along Will, thanks in advance! Good quote from SR.
Thanks in advance for taking us along.
This guy is excited
This guy is excited
September 9 came in a flash and I was headed South. I’d decided to forgo a rushed OTC hunt and instead was going to meet 2 friends who’d picked up decent leftover tags for CO. I’d help them for a few days before heading to New Mexico to scout my unit for 4 days prior to the Sept. 15th opener.
Ever been so high, you’re literally clenching your teeth, holding on for the ride? That’s how I feel every time I leave for a bowhunting adventure. I’m about to come out of my skin! I NEED this like an addict needs his fix. I saw the most spectacular rainbow I’ve ever seen on the drive down. This went directly over a mountain I’d spent several days on last season with a couple Bowsiters who are now two of my best friends. My mind flooded with memories of that hunt. Too much fun. Did I mention I’m about to come unglued?!
I rolled in to camp in time for an afternoon hunt with my buddy Ryan. We hit a relatively easy access spot that almost always has elk in it. Not that afternoon. Kirby met us back at camp that evening and had heard several bulls bugling from different areas that night. We’d be there well before light the next day.
We were parked and listening for bugles at least an hour before light that next morning. With about 20 minutes before dawn, silence was broken as a bull whistled a response from well below our vantage point. We waited to hear him again, hoping to pinpoint his location. When he ripped off again it was obvious he was moving fast uphill on a course to cross about a mile in front of us. Let’s go! We scrambled downhill fast and before long he hit a dark timbered patch and seemed to slow down a bit; the only issue being that we were going to need to cross a wide open willow patch to access the timber he was now bugling from. If we could get across this opening fast, we had a real chance at being in the red zone, in effective calling terms. We made it and I took his temperature with a few soft cow calls. He was certainly interested but not going to come in that easy. I got him a bit wound up before adding a bugle to the mix. He hated that, but still wasn’t going to leave his cows. I switched gears and threw him some aggravated cow and calf sounds; take into account, I’m running around like a lunatic, breaking brush, raking and foot stomping. Ryan is 20 yds in front of me. The bull lost his mind when he heard the sounds of calves being pestered. I have no idea what about some emotional cow sounds makes a bull come undone, but I’ve seen this more than a few times. I could hear the bull break and charge from about 150 yds away crashing through anything in his way on a direct path to me. He stopped no more than 40 yds in front of me and blew up the woods with a scream that made me wish I had hearing protection. These encounters blow my mind every time. Thank God for bugling bulls, the Rocky Mountains, and September!
Thunk! The sound of an arrow hitting the body cavity followed by hooves stomping and brush breaking as he ran back the way he came. Ryan wasn’t moving. No turn to give a thumbs up. I was bugling within a second of the shot, hoping to slow him down. A few minutes passed before Ryan turned around and gave the “I’m not sure what just happened” shrug. The bull had stopped at about 15 yds facing him and Ryan shot him in the chest through a very small window.
We were nervous until investigating the point of impact and finding this (pic in next post). We decided to wait 45 minutes to be sure as we were still unclear of the exact hit. Long story short we should have probably backed out. The blood trail was literally the most profuse that I’ve ever seen (in 30 years of bowhunting and hundreds upon hundreds of animals trailed) without an animal at the end. We tracked this bull for well over a mile if not 2 before blood disappeared. Dejected but determined, we grid searched for the rest of the day and into the next. I'm still at a loss as to what happened, but I like to learn from my mistakes and I believe the only thing we should have done differently is we should have backed out without absolute certainty of exactly where the hit was.
A few pics from the trail. This was within steps of the impact. Insane. Bull went maybe 200 yds before bedding. 20/20 hindsight but I sure wish we'd have backed out for half day
Damn! Crap luck on that one for sure.
Spectacular tale so far! Lovin’ every word!
Gonna be sneakin’ peeks all day and killing my work productivity...
His first bed. Also never found the arrow. Depressing to say the least. I don't know how many miles we covered searching. Still doesn't make sense to me
Cool, looking forward to the rest of the story. Handsome brace of boys you got there. I think you'll have your hands full in the future.
The following evening all 3 of us were in a new area. Bulls were screaming. Last light was fast approaching when we finally got close. A bugle ripped out from less than 100 yds and we were forced to set up fast. Ryan and Kirby split off to opposite sides in a hurry and I dropped back to call. Within minutes of my first calls, several bulls were hammering and one was committed. I caught movement as he came by Kirby at about 20 yds. Kirby was tucked up against a spruce and had no shot from where he stood. The bull kept coming before stopping, knowing the cow he heard should be right on top of him by now. I actually could have stuck him where he stopped. Typical. The only guy without a bow is the one presented with a shot. I can’t count how many similar stories I’ve got like this. Go elk hunting-see mulies. Go deer hunting-see a giant bull. Go pheasant hunting-giant whitetail standing at 40yds watching the dogs work (that actually happened this past season). You’ve been there. You get it.
The bull hung out for several minutes before turning and easing off. If we’d had just a few minutes to pick a better set up rather than being forced to scramble, this bull would have been dead for sure. I can’t tell you how many times a poor set up has cost me or my hunting partners a shot.
We left them bugling that night. Ryan and I had a LONG uphill walk back to the truck. Kirby had an ATV. I might need one of those things at some point ?. A few drinks in camp that evening mixed with talk of what could have, should have been. Dang near killed 2 bulls in 2 days and my season hadn’t even started.
If it's legal, Ryan's shooting :)
If it's legal, Ryan's shooting :)
Can't beat fresh grouse over the fire.
Can't beat fresh grouse over the fire.
A couple more pics from the Colorado prelude.
That's all I have time for now. Much more to come
Keep this rockin Will!!!!
Mark
Be waiting with baited breath. You spin amazing tales for sure!
Thank you for keeping my sanity in check this week. Looking forward to more!
Following for sure! Always look forward to your adventures!
Fantastic! Good timing Will. Thanks for the post. Looking forward to the rest.
Sidenote.......where do you think that bull was hit?
Geeat job so far! Keep it coming, buddy, and don't make us wait too long. We know where you live!
Yup, just what the sole needs this time of year. Outstanding.
Well you started your trip off with a bang that's for sure! you must of been in full hunt mode by the time you got to NM.
Very Kool indeed.
Thanks for sharing with us.
Good luck, Robb
'bout time.
:):):):):) Lovin' it!
Thanks guys.
Matt, your guess is as good as mine on where the hit was. I didn't see the shot but Ryan thought there may have been some deflection near impact. Maybe some major artery/one lung. It hurts but I think we were able to take something from the experience. Oh yeah, I never mentioned it was a great bull......
Couple more CO pics
I hunted the next morning without an encounter before pointing the rig South. I had 4.5 days to scout my NM unit.
I’ll pause to thank those of you who offered up intel. Thank you, Charlie, JP, David, Cory, and Jim. If any of you ever need anything, please ask.
The drive down, as usual, was a total daydream. There is no time I feel more thankful, more blessed, than when I’m traveling to or from a hunt. This is life at its finest and I’m soaking it up.
I arrived at my first stop that afternoon, drove to the end of the access road and, to my surprise, there was a blind sitting literally ON the road next to a tank. What the Hell? Why anyone would want to sit on a road and kill an elk is beyond me, but I was in for a learning experience. Dang near every tank has a road to it and dang near every tank has a treestand, blind, or both on it. To each his own, but sitting over water is the furthest thing from what I want to do when I go elk hunting.
I did some hiking and glassing that evening. I heard a few bugles and put a solid plan together for the morning scouting mission before settling in to camp. Happy hour. That night I drank whiskey like it was my last chance, so excited I wouldn’t have slept at all otherwise. God Bless America!
The next morning I was up early and gaining elevation well before light. I bugled a bit in the dark. Crickets. It was just after the sun began to make shadows that I heard my first bugle of the day. I moved in on two different bulls, pinpointing their travel direction and staying with them until they picked a bedding area. Even with the season 3 days away, it was still hard for me to finally pull out and leave them alone without ever getting a glimpse. Spot #1 was a success. I had an exact hunt plan and a good idea of how the wind/thermals moved and when. On to the next. I left em bugling and hiked back to the truck. I only made it about a mile before blowing a tire. NO! Now I’m playing with fire rolling around in super rocky country without a spare. Oh well, I had some more scouting to do.
Spectacular country. If you don't like photos you won't like this thread :)
I checked out a spot that night that looked prime that afternoon. Bumped a small bull on the hike in to a good listening/glassing point but that was the only action I saw. I sat until well after dark, got up, and walked out without my bugle. Rough start with a popped tire and lost bugle. Luckily, I had a great hunting partner in Kirby. I talked to him that evening. He’d fallen and derailed his bow string in CO and was headed to Albuquerque to get new strings. He offered to pick me up a tire and a bugle. Thanks again, my friend! Great hunting partners aren’t easy to come by. Kirby is solid.
I drove to the next spot on my scouting list that night. Once parked, I poured myself a drink and ripped off a bugle over the steep canyon I was parked on. Immediate response! Bugles Over Bourbon
Did I mention it was hotter than hell? I spent my mornings and evenings scouting and my days hiding from the sun, often under my truck as much of this country has no shade.
This was my type of country, steep and deep. I spent the next hour or so (time doesn’t seem to matter when I’m on “vacation”) sipping whiskey, listening to bugles, and imagining what caliber of bull might be tearing it up below me. Calm. Focused. Grateful. Ready to fling an arrow.
I spent the morning covering ground, getting a feel for the terrain and the wind tendencies while keeping my distance from what sounded like a good bull. I’d meet up with Kirby later that day and get my tire put on in one of the two towns in the entire unit.
One quick shot to make sure my bow works :) and I was headed to town. 50yds. That'll do. I'm so ready
So different from any terrain I've ever hunted
So different from any terrain I've ever hunted
We drove around and looked at a few spots that afternoon before meeting up with our “guide”. The rules were, we had to be with our guide for 2 days. We split up to glass the evening before our season opened. I hiked a little ways to some higher ground and Kirby and Raul set up overlooking another piece of country. Even with the scorching heat, we saw elk. I saw one herd at least a mile away that had some obvious rutting action going on though I couldn’t tell exactly what quality of bull I was looking at. In the two days with the guide, we had a few close encounters with smaller bulls. I was looking forward to being “free” of the legal obligation of being with the guide, but certainly happy to have drawn the tag with the assistance of guide pool odds.
I swear we're going hunting soon. Thanks for following
ha, one key stroke at a time, lots of pics .... keep em come'n. Love it!
Great adventure so far! Yet another of your EPIC tales, Will!
Flat I ran across that morning. Actually caught a small bull wallowing right in the middle of it. Put my pin on him for good measure :)
Flat I ran across that morning. Actually caught a small bull wallowing right in the middle of it. Put my pin on him for good measure :)
Piece of Anasazi pottery. You can feel the American Indian history in this place
Piece of Anasazi pottery. You can feel the American Indian history in this place
Day 3 we split up and followed bugles in opposite directions. I was close to the herd in the dark but they were moving fast. I ended up following them all the way across an open flat before first light. As things became clear I got my first glimpse through my binos of what I’d hoped to see on this trip, a stud of a bull screaming his fool head off at several smaller 6 points while pushing his cows towards the timber. He was every bit of 340” if not better. That’ll do! I raced forward as they dropped behind a little rise right next to a 2 track road. These elk don’t care in the slightest about roads. As I moved into what felt like the perfect position slightly ahead of the herd, I heard cow calls coming from behind them, very obviously a hunter. To make matters worse I had the wind right in my face meaning that whoever was dogging them had their scent blowing right into the herd. Oh well, this is about to happen and though I didn’t want an audience, I wasn’t letting this bull walk. The cows began to trickle by at 35 yds, slightly agitated. Please, let him take the same path. I peeked around some scrub and saw antlers coming. It was one of the satellites, a 260-270” 6 point. He may as well have been a cow with the big bull coming behind him. All of a sudden the cows started running. I drew and gave a loud nervous grunt as the herd bull flew by me well within range, but he never even broke stride. DANG!
I often point out to friends who are dejected about a close call that successful elk hunting involves a pile of almosts until it finally all comes together. That doesn’t ease the pain of a close call with a great animal, but it’s all part of the story. My heart was still pounding out of my chest during the long walk back to the truck.
Wish I'd brought my spotter and tripod. Would've got some awesome pics. This taken just holding my phone to my 15s
Wish I'd brought my spotter and tripod. Would've got some awesome pics. This taken just holding my phone to my 15s
That morning, after some moose burritos, we decided to try to get over to where I’d seen the rut action the day before the season opened. It was a good move. We found a group of right around 100 head with 26 bulls not including spikes. The only downside being the biggest bull was just a solid 5 point. At this point, between my scouting and hunting, I’d glassed at least 40 bulls and only one was much over 300”. I’d also seen a handful of racks on trucks without a single one scratching 280”. No worries. I’ve never been much of a trophy hunter anyway. I decided right then that I’d kill the next decent bull I got a chance at. I don’t like eating tags and I like using my bow. We didn’t have the time or the cover to make a move on the herd that night. We’d head that way in the AM. That night, Bugles Over Bourbon.
The next morning, Day 4 of our hunt with only 6 to go, found us dogging what sounded like a good bull just after first light. As we caught up to him in a small drainage, one bull turned into two. I dropped back to call but this guy wasn’t coming. He held up just out of sight and bugled at about everything I threw at him. The terrain is such that they come to about 150 yds before they hold up, knowing they should see something. Here in CO, I’m normally hunting thick, dark timber and I like my shooter to be about 20-40 yds in front of me. I was learning quickly that this open desert country required the caller to be WAY further back. Long story short, a shouting match turned to silence as the bulls moved off to bed that morning. The scorching heat left a very short window of AM action.
That evening, we split up and decided to sit and wait for a bugle to redirect our plans. I heard one bugle late but it was an otherwise uneventful night. Where in the hell did the 100 head from yesterday go?! We got back to camp well after dark that evening, poured a drink, and what do you know? We had bulls bugling from at least 3-4 directions that night. We’d split up in the morning in hopes of doubling our chances of success. It was day 5, half way through the hunt, and I was getting an itchy trigger finger. If there's one debilitating factor to NM elk, it's the 10 day window. Filling two tags on decent bulls in 10 days is a tall order. Ya’ll know the feeling. When you’re soaking up every bit of a great hunt, but in the back of your mind is the self-induced pressure of actual success. As my good friend Hunter would say, it was Hammertime!
My final setup
My final setup
I set out after a gnarly sounding bugle a solid hour and a half before light that morning. In short order, I was well within bow range of the herd, 2 bulls firing angry bugles into the dark. As the sky lightened, still at least 20-30 min before legal light, I caught a skylined rack moving in front of me. Montser! I ranged the tree behind him at 40 yds. Now I only need it to get light and I’ll be putting an arrow through one of the biggest bulls I’ve ever seen in the wild. I can still see his rack as I catch movement to my left. Another giant steps out at similar distance, skylining himself within 15 yds of the other. The image of the two of them standing together, black racks against the purple blue of dawn, is burned indelibly in my mind. This is what I hunt for, if not what I live for. They moved toward eachother before turning directly away from me, paralleling eachother, obviously drawing a line in the sand, and screaming the whole time. I’m still 10 minutes from legal light and more like 20 from being able to see my pins to shoot as they move away, slowly breaking off their respective herds. Still, I’m in a great position, 50-60 yds away, carefully moving with them, arrow knocked. As light gathers bugles decrease rapidly. The herd is picking up speed as if running from the light of day on their way to bedding. Terrain was relatively flat and I was able to keep within 100 yds or so until they hit a wide open flat probably ¼ mile long. I had to let them get out of reach in order to stay out of sight. When they cleared the open area and hit timber I booked it over to where they entered the woods. The occasional bugle from either of the two bulls let me know I was still on the trail. I actually crossed a two track twice while dogging them. As they led me further and further into the timber they finally seemed to slow down. Surely they were approaching their bedding area as several bugles rang out from the same location maybe 150-200 yds ahead. This is it
“The best thing about hunting and fishing,’ the Old Man said, ‘is that you don’t have to actually do it to enjoy it. You can go to bed every night thinking about how much fun you had twenty years ago, and it all comes back clear as moonlight.’” — Robert Ruark-
Yep
Bull stopped just to the left of the American flag in the center of the pic
Bull stopped just to the left of the American flag in the center of the pic
I eased up another 75 yds or so before I caught some movement. Arrow knocked I hit a few soft mews to test the water. BAM! He fired back almost before I finished my second call. I immediately hit him with the “magic” cow call and he broke like a fat kid for the ice cream truck. As he closed from 100 to 60 to 40 the head gear wasn’t what I’d expected, maybe a 3 year old 5 point. Still, I drew as he went behind a tree at 35 yds. He came all the way to about 8 yds before coming to a stop dead broadside, top pin on his chest. It was his lucky day I guess as I let down. We were already planning on moving camp after the morning hunt so I pressed on after the herd bull. Eventually I pressed a bit too hard as I heard the woods explode in front of me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t second guessing my decision to let the 5 point walk as I listened to hooves thump and branches snap. Back at camp I found out Kirby had some action that morning as well, passing a smallish 6 point. We were getting closer to drawing blood. Good thing because this hunt is about ½ way over. The afternoon of Day 5 things would take a turn.
whole elk tendy seemed appropriate
whole elk tendy seemed appropriate
After breakfast we drove about an hour to one of the spots I’d scouted; also one of the only actual mountain ranges and certainly some of the steepest stuff in the entire unit. This was more my speed. Buzzkill as we rolled up on my first choice only to see a truck. We drove another half mile down the access road, picked another mountain, and set up camp hoping fate might deal us aces. It did.
At maybe 2pm, we strolled out of camp heading for unknown country. Within minutes of leaving camp a bugle startled us from under 100 yds. Oh hell yes! We split up maybe 20 yds apart, arrows nocked, and I hit him with a few soft contact calls. He fired back immediately and stepped into view at about 80 yds. As he’s standing his ground bugling every 20 seconds or so for the cow he heard to come over to him, I caught movement maybe 15 yds to his right. It’s a bear!! What in the Hell?! The bull is hammering away and the bear is just lollygagging about his business. They never even so much as looked in eachother’s direction. Crazy! After a short time the bull lost interest and turned to leave. I had to use some ventriloquism, cupping my hand over my mouth, turning away from the bull, and giving him the magic with the diaphragm at the softest level I could. He turned without a peep on a dead walk right to us. It was pretty dang open with pondos maybe every 10 yds or so. As he cleared some brush at 50 I got ready to draw. I made a quick glance over at Kirby and saw him draw his bow so I held off. 40, 35, 30, 25. As he stepped into the open at under 20 yds from Kirby I stopped him. WHACK! He ran maybe 20 yds and stopped to look back, completely unaware of what just happened. In hindsight I should have drawn and shot him again right there, but I just stood there, heart pounding through my chest, waiting for him to drop. He didn’t stand there long before trotting back the way he came. I whipped up my binos as he moved out of sight and saw the exit hole. Way back, with a bit of gut protruding. Oh no.
We made the easy decision to wait until the next day to look for him. We were optimistic and totally dejected at the same time. To make matters worse, it began to rain; hard. There was another bull bugling across the valley so we decided to head that way and steer clear of the area Kirby’s bull headed. We didn’t go far before walking up on the same bear from earlier feeding 36 yds above us. I’d thought seriously about grabbing a bear tag so it figures I’d see a good one without a tag in my pocket. Oh well, as a good friend would say, “It’s just a bear”.
Nothing else to tell about that night. Hopeful anxiety is the only way to describe it. This feeling can be diluted with Makers Mark but the only cure is closure in the form of 4 quarters, 2 straps, and 2 tendies. That evening was a wash literally, as it poured all night. We spent most of the next day grid searching without finding so much as a drop of blood or a tuft of hair. Bulls were bugling the whole time from well before light until we headed for camp around 2 or so. Kirby would continue searching for the rest of the day. I would head out in the direction of the last bugle I’d heard.
He was tucked into some super thick stuff just beyond the top right of this picture.
He was tucked into some super thick stuff just beyond the top right of this picture.
I had a quick snack and hit the woods. Not long after, I was in it; 4-5 bulls bugling at eachother every 30 seconds or so. They were across the valley and about ¾ up the mountain on the other side. I made quick work of getting over there and within 30 minutes I was within bow range of what sounded like the biggest of the group. They were obviously bedded. Every time the big bull bugled I’d move a little closer until finally, I saw antlers through thick brush only 25 yds away. I could tell just from a few tines and the mass that this was a stud. Little did I know I’d be staring at him for the next hour and a half. It was too early and I’d gotten too close. I thought any minute the wind would ruin me as my mind raced with what to do. Was it possible to get an arrow in there somehow? It was way too thick. Even if I could move without being detected there was just no way to get a good shot at him where he was bedded. So I waited. By the time I heard one of the other bulls get up, my legs were in so much pain I thought I might just be the first to stand. As if on cue, the Volkswagen sized brute stood up and walked straight away. I stood up with him, almost going down at first without much for feeling in my legs. It’s crazy how they just get up and are gone so fast. He walked with purpose out and around the thicket he was bedded in before stopping to alert the world that he was king. I had my bugle at the ready and I believe I even startled him when I cut him off with a scream he could’ve mistaken for his own. He turned on a dime and headed right for an opening that I already had ranged at 45 yds. At this point I’d had plenty of time to get a look at him but still I was short of breath watching a bull, every bit of 360” if not better, walk directly into my shooting lane. As he neared the clearing I calmed myself and drew. My heart stopped as I heard brush break to my right. A smaller bull caught me draw and trotted uphill. I don’t know that I’ll ever forget that moment. I just about puked as I watched the monarch turn and walk away only steps prior to exposing his vitals. Looking back I’m grateful and I know that the incredible highs I get as a hunter can’t come without these lows, but I felt at that time like I’d had the air let out of my lungs. Fitting. I absolutely live for this stuff! I know that someday I’ll close the deal on a bull of this caliber but I will never forget this encounter.
That bull flirted with death for the rest of the evening before darkness saved his life. Kirby had spent the rest of the day looking for his bull without success. Bowhunting can be the most humbling experience life has to offer. This was one of those times. Days were melting away like ice over whiskey. Time was slipping away.
The next day we were on several buglers. When one fired off from close range Kirby looked at me and said, "This is your bull, Will."
I got this. I dropped my pack, knocked an arrow, and blacked out. I was determined, hungry with each careful step I made. He wasn't moving. I'd already tried calling to him earlier and he seemed dead set on calling me to him. A twig snapped in his direction and I saw antlers. I knew as soon as I laid eyes on him that I was gonna eat him. Settled in relatively thick cover, I made a quick guess where he'd go, ranged an opening at 32 yds, and drew. When he hit the spot I stopped him. He went about 6 inches further than I'd have liked but I had a basketball sized opening to his quartered away vitals. Thwack! The arrow disappeared exactly where I was aiming (liver) and exited the off side shoulder. That's a wrap. He made the biggest mule kick I've ever seen an elk make, made a short semi-circle, and stopped at 25 yds. I was already drawn and aiming when he stumbled a bit (later I found out the stumble was Kirby putting one in him) and ran jello legged another 10 yds. When he stopped I shot him again. He was dead in seconds. No matter how many times I'm in this situation, particularly with elk, I'm overwhelmed, thankful, humbled beyond words.
As he lay. I actually didn't realize he only had one antler until I walked right up on him :)
I've got to get back to work, but I'll finish up the elk hunt and post some pics/tales from other adventures before this is over.
Excellent hunt and writeup! Great job killing a bull!
Looking forward to the rest of the adventures!
You can't work right now!! I'm not!
Wow. Thanks for taking the time to share. Great story!!!
Thanks for taking us along !
Never do you disappoint us. Thanks for taking the time. What’s on your schedule this fall ? Hunt
Great post Will! More pics of your bull please.
Nice thread Will!
Thanks for sharing
Awesome stuff Will. Loving every word. Can’t wait to hear the rest! Poudre
Thanks Will for taking us along, great story and pics!
Awesome, on my wish list! Great story telling too.
Awesome write up, Will! Great pics as well. Looking forward to the rest after you get back from work. Congrats!
Awesome thread as always Will! Your the real deal sir. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks guys.
This bull is as blonde as any I've ever seen. Every bull I've ever shot has had an almost black neck. Cool looking bull for sure.
Some celebrating and reliving the encounter before getting to work. Did I mention it's hotter than hell in New Mexico?
Great stuff Will! Congrats!
Pack with approx. 160# (half a bull)
Pack with approx. 160# (half a bull)
Lil snack first. YUM!
Lil snack first. YUM!
I make these little lean to in order to protect the meat from the sun. Use branches and some clothing. It was at least 70 degrees when I took the photo and I wouldn't be able to get back for 4-5 hours to retrieve the last load. Time to do what I do best.
Made it back to the 2 track road in good time. Kirby was grabbing my truck for me when a guy came by in a side by side. Nice guy; a border patrol officer with some good stories, but better yet, a cooler full of Keystone Light. I'm not a big fan of Keystone but it was the best beer I've ever had in my life. We had several in the few minutes before Kirby came back with the truck. It's the little things in life
Found a shed while getting the last load of meat
Found a shed while getting the last load of meat
I went back for the rest of the meat after some lunch and Kirby went hunting that afternoon. Heard a few bugles but nothing close. We got fired up that night. Reinvigorated by success and hopeful for more. The next morning we were on bulls almost nonstop. They'd come a little ways to my calling but hang up just out of range. Several times I thought sure I was going to hear the bow go off. This open country requires the shooter to be at least 100 yds in front of the caller. Also, it is far less predictable as to exactly where they'll come to investigate than it is in thick/steep cover. If/when I draw again, I'll be better prepared for these long range call-ins.
We chased bugles for the next few days before the sun set on our New Mexico adventure. I'm sure I left out some encounters/details but they all seem to melt together. It was as good an experience as I could ask for, a "trip of a lifetime". I consider myself blessed to have great friends and even better opportunities. Shameless plug: If you feel the same please join your state and national bowhunting organizations! We need the support now more than ever.
Started messing with some custom knife/sheath making
Started messing with some custom knife/sheath making
I had the opportunity to take a few first time hunters out later in the fall. I actually spent more time helping others this past season than I did hunting for myself. Not a lot more rewarding than helping a new hunter find success. Hopefully this guy doesn't think it's easy. First ever hunt
Got to take a friend on his first lope hunt as well. Alex killed his first elk the previous year. Both guys are fathers, voters, and hooked on hunting for life. Insert thumbs up
The rest of my free time last year was spent with my best friend, my Dad. I'll add a few more pics as well as the story of the single best hunt of my life and we can call this done.
This is awesome Will! Doesn't get much better than this, you're living right!
Dad's favorite thing to do is bird hunt behind our setters, but I was able to talk him into putting in for his first ever mule deer hunt this fall. Our window of opportunity is definitely closing. We make the most of every day together.
Have you ever met someone that you get an immediate "this is a good dude" feeling about at hello? My father is one of those. He is as genuine and kind a person as I've ever been around. He deserves to have a chance at a deer this season. I'd do anything to get him a chance.
We said a prayer of thanks as we left the truck for our first mule deer hunt together. Nowhere I'd rather be. Literally within 100 yds of the truck I spotted a monster. A Gift from God for sure. The buck was just on the other side of the fence from the property I'd gained access to. I got Dad set up with the tripod just in case we were lucky enough to get a chance. Sure enough the buck jumped the fence. He's standing broadside at maybe 50 yds and Dad can't find him in the scope! There's not much I can do other than try to be calm and tell myself that it's not about the kill as I watch a mid 170s buck walk into thick cover.
We were on him several more times with the same results (couldn't find him in the scope) when he finally offered a shot at about 70 yds. Miss. We were both dejected and wondering if we had any business being out there after a miss on a slam dunk rifle shot. The drive home was quiet, a kick to the gut for both of us.
This isn't the one he missed. It's another that never came on legal ground but not too much bigger than the missed buck. It stung but we weren't quitting. Time for work but definitely finish this at lunch.
I'll second it about that "good dude" feeling when first meeting him! What a great guy.
Outstanding story for sure Will! Thanks for taking us along!
You are livin’ large for sure! Love that you were able to get out there with your dad. Nothing better!
Went threw that stage with my Dad many years ago. I thought “getting him a deer” mattered then but now realize just how irrelevant tagging one was. When it’s all said and done the goal is always “no regrets”! Make it happen!
Best always Will!!!!
Will. You never disappoint. Thank you.
Awesome stuff as always Will!
Nicely done neighbor. My best to you, dad, and family, Paul
Simply. Amazing. Another good read. Thanks, Will. Love the pics of you and your dad.
He relies on me to wake him up when something happens :)
He relies on me to wake him up when something happens :)
Dad and I gave it our best the few chances we had to get out during his season. We had close calls every time. Honestly, I could have easily killed one almost every time we went, but Dad was having trouble seeing them. In hindsight I really should have bought a new scope for him. We sat in the blind and also hiked around a bit. Not bad for an 82 year old. Proud of you Dad
Great thread. It is awesome to see 3 generations of Towles in this thread.
The season was winding down. We had one more chance to get out. It snowed the evening prior to our last hunt of the season. It was one of the mornings that's so stunning it's easy just to be thankful you're alive and hunting. I don't think either of us thought we'd make it happen, but we were soaking up life regardless. When we got to where we could see the basin we'd been hunting I spotted a buck near the top. The hike would be a good one even for me and it seemed far fetched to think Dad could climb all the way up there. Even so, we'd just go slow and give it a try in hopes the buck didn't move off in the hour or more it'd take to get Dad into range. As we rounded a knob and I got a second view of the basin, the buck was miraculously still there. We were now under 500yds, closing extremely slowly, but making progress. I looked up to see the buck moving toward us. Please, let this happen. I tried to get Dad set up when the buck crossed in the wide open at about 200 yds but still he couldn't see him. He moved out of sight, appearing to be going away from us. I let out a doe bleat with my mouth and we settled in. Fingers crossed. After waiting for what felt like forever the deer popped up in front of us heading our way at 75 yds. Dad could see him. I'm not sure I breathed or allowed my heart to beat over the next minute or so as Dad tried to get settled. He was visibly shook, adrenaline flowing. I said, "Take your time. Be calm. Its just a..." BAAAAM! Dropped him.
I'm not one to get teary about a kill but I'm not gonna lie, we both cried in the moment and it's a physical feeling for me just to write about it. We hugged and then just stood there. I'm not sure for how long. It was truly one of the best moments of my life and surely my best hunting experience. Words could never do justice. We were/are so grateful.
Watching Dad walk up on his first muley at 82 years old.
This thread is amazing and the last post is double damn amazing! Congrats to your dad and so good of you to help him make it happen. Hunting is even more special when we can do it with an aging parent. Thank you for taking us along.
I'll never forget this day. Thank you Dad, for everything. I love you
Wow! Great read. I look forward to this hunt every year
Thanks Will, you never disappoint!
Awesome recap, and the finale left me speechless, with moist eyes. So glad you got to share that moment with your Dad, along with all the others over the Years!
Great work all around, Will. Thanks for sharing this! The invitation is always open to bring your dad back up to fish, too.
And thank you sooo much for not writing "for what seemed like an eternity"! ;-)
That looks like an old Remington Wood Master your dad's got there!
This is what makes me open Bowsite everyday!!! Thanks you for posting and can’t wait for your next adventure . Hunt
Great stuff Will! Appreciate you taking the time to write it all up.
Great stuff!! Especially the part with your dad getting his first muley at 82. Congrats to all!!
Definitely treasured memories both of you will never forget! Great finish to the story, Will! My dad is 83 and, as I know you definitely do as well, as evidenced in the above thread, I feel truly blessed to still get to share experiences like these with him. Many on here are not as fortunate to still have their fathers (or mothers) around. My heart goes out to those.
Thanks again for sharing!
I'm not crying, you're crying! :-) Great end to the story Will! My dad is turning 70 this year and still gets around great. He has 16 points for archery elk here in SD. I pray everyday he gets that tag this year while he's still physically able to get after it.
Great stuff man! Love it.
Excellent thread! Your dedication certainly shines through, way to go!
Awesome stuff, thanks for sharing! Congrats to all!
Awesome write-up! Will is selling himself short on calling in elk. That CO bull had no intention of coming back down the mountain to us. Will was so damn believable I kept having to look back and make sure he wasn't an elk! Thanks again for helping out. Next time there will be a bull at the end of the blood trail.
Awesome stuff man. I loved it!
Your elk stories are always my favorites on Bowsite and your NM tale is no exception. But this finale with your Dad is in a class of its own. Outstanding! So cool that you could share that memory - it will be with you forever!
Fantastic stuff! Congrats to all and thanks for sharing this.
WOW, that was truly an amazing climax to a great read. Will, you are an amazing and inspirational person. God speed to you and your Pops.
Very good at taking us along on with you on your hunt's Will, and glad you got to spend precious time with your Dad.I'm thinking your Dad was shooting a Remington 700 BDL on his hunt ?
Kurt
Just a fabulous story...thanks for sharing!
Wow! How awesome is that! Congrats to you and your Dad. Good on you for making sure to get him in the woods and spend some time together. Thanks for sharing.
Great thread.
Enjoy your time with your father. I lost mine last year at 71 - far too young. There were lots of things he and I had planned to do together that we won't have the opportunity to, but you are making that happen and I commend you.
"Have you ever met someone that you get an immediate "this is a good dude" feeling about at hello? My father is one of those. He is as genuine and kind a person as I've ever been around."
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree my friend.
I meant what I said the other day when I said that this was the best thing on the internet right now.
Grats to you and your dad. I'm happy for you both. And thanks for taking us along.
Awesome stuff Will, thanks bud!
ElkNut/Paul
Excellent doesn't begin to describe the thread Will. The writing, the experiences, the imagery, you have a gift. Well, many gifts. Thanks for taking the time to share this. What a read. I'd rather read this than any magazine or TV show.
Thanks guys. Glad you enjoyed.
Dad's gun is a Rem 700.
I really appreciate all the kind words. No elk hunt this year as I'll be in AK for most of September with some redneck I met on the internet :) Dad and I will hopefully share another first in our 2019 adventures as well. Either way we'll be smiling. Cannot wait! Cheers
Not even sure I have words on this. Awesome, outstanding, heart warming and on and on...
Awesome!! All the way around!! See ya in 10 days!!
Matt
Excellent thread Will. I love what you shared with your dad.
Dude, no way you can miss a year hunting elk!
ElkNut/Paul
You're a lucky son, he's a lucky dad. Really great stories.
My dad didn't hunt but he LOVED to hear my hunting stories and see my photos. Encouraged me in my pursuits and bragged to anyone who would listen when I had success. This thread has me missing him. Cherish the moments.
Awesome story and pictures Wiil. Thanks for taking us on your adventure!
Great stuff as usual Will. We sure had a ball. I’ll look through some of my photos to see what I have...
Excellent writeup. Thank you so much for sharing. It should be a bowsite requirement that anybody who draws a good tag should be required to write about their trip. :)
I've said this before but this is an instant classic for Bowsite. Great pics and an even better job of putting your experience into elegant words that allowed a guy to feel like he was watching it go down. Thanks for sharing Will!!
I appreciate you taking the time to post this. You expressed my thoughts on several subjects so well. What elk hunting means to you, and time spent with your father, friends and family all in one post. Excellent.
As usual, great stuff Will. Pictures, story and perspective. Your dad is very fortunate. As are you.
Just had a great Spring Break trip with my youngest. I am hoping we can emulate your "Dad Trip" well into our future.
Well done, sir.
Bump for Dad.
Some might think this was an elk story but all I see is a hunt with you Dad. Everything good about me is a product of being your son. I know you haven't read this so I'm bumping this and another for you. Thanks for everything. I couldn't be more proud of you.
Will
Good stuff Will and good to see you on the BS.
Dad is proud of his son. No better feeling.
Nice again, and a great tribute to you and your dad. See on on Tues to explore Big Horn Sheep possibilities. Paul
Amen Will! Thanks for commenting as I missed this the first time. PERFECT father's day post all around. Bless you and your Dad! Make the most of it......mine is 8 years gone.
Loved it as much the second time I read through it as I did the first time! Thanks Will!
Read every word again! Pretty much covered every emotion involved with bowhunting! Hope you had a great Father's Day Will!
Read every word like it was the last thing I'll ever read. Enjoyed it immensely (again)
As we age, we forget some/much of what we've already read/heard/seen, so reading this again 3 years later -- lots of it "new" and a great read (again).
I thought this was about a fire going on. Since it was dated 2019 I ignored it. Couldn't figure why the thread stayed active so finally opened it up. Just flipped thru but it looks like a great write up. Will read it tonight after work.
Read it again and it was just as good as it was 3 years ago. Thanks for the recaps you do Will, they are most excellent.
This one in particular with your dad was very meaningful and hit close to home.
Hunt every hunt as if it were your last, because one time it will be.
Will I appreciate your bringing this back up. I missed it first time around. You are able to put a person right next to you as you provide the details of each hunt. Very fortunate you are for being able to share time afield with your Dad. Mine died at 58 from a heart attack . As others have related, reading about your Dad causes one to think about theirs. My first memory of "game" was dad bringing rabbits and pheasant home and taking them into our dungeon of a basement to clean them. Of course I wanted to go with him as I got older. Be careful what you wish for! I got to be the dog, trying to push bunnies out of wild roses and raspberry brambles. Dad never fired a shot, I whined and cried as the thorns took a toll and Dad never asked me to go again. Somewhere along my childhood he quit hunting. No idea why. When I started hunting I was 16 and bought my first shotgun. My buddy Jimmy and I had a great place for bunnies and quail. One day I asked Dad to join us if he could. On a Saturday morning, dingy and cold he walked onto that property with us. We killed a few bunnies but no quail but I got to hunt with my Dad! He never went again. He just didn't have the desire any more. Now at 66 I understand that feeling. I still have his old Montgomery Wards shotgun which he received from his granddad. I treasure it and those brief memories. When I killed my first deer a couple years later he got upset when I told him I left the heart and liver in the gut pile. "Best part of the deer boy! " I still remember him saying. Never forgot them again. Thanks for the memories!
Excellent write up and photos Will (as usual)! Can't believe I missed this thread the first go round. Family bonding, exciting elk hunting and treasured memories with Dad...this one has it all. Great read to start the day...thanks for the bump!
Loving all the old thread bumping. Thanks for the improvements Pat
Good stuff. My dad was a hounding, raccoons with black and tans and blueticks and rabbit with beagles. I miss him and miss those days.
This one is one that tugs the heart strings…. Awesome OTC!
