Let's Go Hunting....2nd Season 2015

[Lost Dog]

Opening Day....The Lost Hunter

edited: 12/2/15

Opening day is the day we all look forward to. This year was no different. Six of us were camped together with plans to go get the “big” one. We planned to hunt in groups of two; the two new guys (Seth and Abel) in camp would hunt directly north from camp because they had cow tags and we didn't want them to get too far away from camp, my oldest son (Brian) and his father in law (Maurice) would take the 4 Runner and drive one mile from camp to the Lost Dog drainage, my youngest son (Craig) and I would also pull out of camp in my GMC and would drive to the trail that followed Elk Creek.

It was a beautiful morning, stars were shining brightly as Craig and I began the hike up the trail. Headlamps lit the way and we made good time. We reached the big clearing before shooting light and found two hunters from Minnesota already sitting and watching. We told them our plans to continue up the east and west ridges of Elk Creek. Craig would take the east ridge and I would take the west.

The high peaks that surrounded me saw the sun first. I had climbed out of the creek bottom and was sitting in the saddle between Elk Creek and Dan’s Gulch. There was movement in the quakies and I made out an elk walking through the trees. It turned out to be a lone calf and it answered the Hoochie Mama but didn’t come toward me. I was hoping that there were others nearby but if there were I never saw them.

The plan was to slowly climb the ridge and to watch the hillside below and across. If anything moved I would have a good view and could then make a decision on how to get into position for a shot. The view was spectacular. I did see the blaze orange of other hunters coming from the ATV road; two hunters were a half mile north of my position and three others came down the finger ridge into Elk Creek. We all were sitting and watching hoping that someone would come through the bottom and get the animals moving.

Several times I heard shots. Two came from the heavy pines to the north, I was hoping a whole herd would come busting out of the timber. Then about noon I heard three shots, evenly spaced, they sounded like they came from the Lost Dog area. I was hoping Brian or Maurice had found a big bull over there.

I spotted more hunters on the east ridge and figured that that might be Craig and Brian. I turned on the radio and sure enough it was my sons and Maurice was with them. No, they hadn’t done any shooting. All they had seen were does (Brian had a buck tag).

We ate our lunches and talked on the radio back and forth. The three guys on the finger ridge had left and so we came up with a plan to have Brian drop down into the creek bottom and then work his way up to where I was. Hopefully, he would run into the elk and they would head my way or they would go back towards where Craig and Maurice were watching.

Three more evenly spaced shots came from over the ridge. Sounded like someone was having some luck.

Nothing came out of the bottom as Brian made his way down and then back up to me. At least we knew now that the elk weren’t just lying down there where we couldn’t see them. It was time to make another plan. We decided to go check out Hidden Pond and see if there was any fresh sign there. Nothing there either; the elk just weren’t around.

Brian and I hunted our way back to the road, arriving at the pickup just before dark. Craig and Maurice had brought the 4 Runner down and as we unloaded our rifles we shared about our day. I had seen the only elk but the others had seen quite a few deer. We then turned the vehicles around and headed back to camp; Craig with me, Brian and Maurice together.

It was getting darker by the moment and we had our headlights on, Brian ahead and me following. Just before we got to the camp turnoff Craig and I noticed something by the side of the road; not on our side but across the road.

“It looks like a hunter,” I said as I put the brakes on. Backing up we could see a man dressed in orange sitting with his legs drawn up and his arms wrapped around in front of his knees. He was about 15 feet back from the edge of the road.

“Looks like a homeless man,” Craig responded. He was used to seeing guys sitting in that position on the sidewalks in Denver.

I rolled the window down and called to the guy, “Do you need some help? Do you need a ride somewhere?”

The guy struggled to his feet, he looked about 80 years old or so, and started to decline the offer but then changed his mind. His camp was up the road a couple of miles and he was expecting one of his hunting buddies to come and give him a ride.

My GMC is a regular cab so Craig said he would get out and walk to camp and I would take the hunter back to his camp.

“I’m not doing so good,” the old man said as he climbed into the pickup. “My nephew and I went up the ATV road this morning. We went all the way to the top, parked and then went on foot to hunt. I’m from Oklahoma and have been hunting up here for 59 years straight but this might be my last year…..I’ve got stage 4 cancer.” He continued, “Somehow I got in the wrong drainage and when I finally figured that out I knew it would be easier to just come down to the road and not climb back up to the ATV. Sure got into some terrible brush out there.”

I pulled into his camp and he thanked me heartily. We exchanged names and I wished him the best.

Later back in camp we were having supper when a pickup pulled in. It was the game warden, “Thanks for finding my lost hunter, his partner was worried sick and called search and rescue. We’ve been looking for him all day! Several times we fired three shots and hoped he would respond.”

Craig and I looked at each other, “Glad we could help, but we didn’t really do much. He was just sitting by the road waiting for a ride when we found him. We didn’t realize he was lost and I don’t think he did either!”

[Indian Summer]

One time in Montana a guy who guided for me was out doing some hunting of his own. When he parked in the morning there were people at the trailhead talking about a hunter from Philadelphia who was missing since the night before. So my buddy hiked on up the trail and hunted. He was at it all day. Late in the afternoon the temperature dropped like a rock and it started raining. He was on his way out and it really started coming down so he was double timing it. As he was about to bail off of the spine of the ridge toward the truck he stopped to look off the opposite side. He noticed a guy way down in the bottom of the basin. He was just sitting there with his head between his knees. The one and only thing he could remember about the lost hunter was where he was from so he yelled as loud as he could "Philadelphia" and the guy looked his way. He didn't move though and just put his head back between his knees so he dropped down to him and asked the hunter if he was ok. The guy said he had been lost since yesterday and he was exhausted and with things looking so bad weather wise so he had given up and was sitting there waiting to die.

He had gotten completely turned around the day before and ended up dropping off of the completely wrong side of a major divide. He had no rain gear, no water, no food, pretty much nothing and was soaked to the bone and shivering. The moral of the story is don't go elk hunting without logging on to our gear and weapons forum!

[cohunter14]

Wow, both of those stories are crazy. Glad everyone made it out okay. It's way too easy to get turned around or having something bad happen while hunting. Always best to be prepared and NEVER leave your pack. I've learned that lesson a few times...

[Swede]

Yes. Being prepared at least for an extra day is always a good idea. Being lost is one thing, but a broken leg or other injury could also happen.
I was about 1/2 mile from my truck one very dark night. I was alone and had gone back to pack out another 1/4 elk. I thought I would be back before dark, but I took a flashlight just in case. I underestimated the amount of time it would take, and the bulb on the flashlight went out. I made it back using the Braille system. At least I was familiar with the area, but it is hard to navigate in the timber in the total dark. Fortunately it was all uphill with just a short flat before I got to the road. I felt my way down the road until I saw a white stick in the wire gate that was about 60 feet in front of the truck. I had to feel my way back to the pickup. I was not prepared to stay out and thought I needed to get back to the truck. To say the least I was nervous in that situation. I guess I should have had two flashlights, just in case.

[bald9eagle]

Rule #1 - Be Prepared
Rule #2 - Don't panic.

Most places here in Alabama it becomes simply a minor inconvenience if you get turned around. I've done it twice and both times I was 100% confident that I would get out but knew it would be a long walk back to the truck. All it takes to get in and out is a compass and topo map.

[WapitiTalk1]

Very somber but important thread lostdog, thanks for starting it. I've had several experiences personally and with other hunters that could have easily gone from annoying, to bad, to very bad. I've been following a thread and news story here in WA about a late archery hunter who has been missing since Saturday, 21 November. At this time, we are fearing the worst. I don't care if you're going out for an afternoon hunt, one should always carry survival gear and extra food/water. I have hunting friends that refuse to do just this and it worries me every time they head out.

Here's the missing hunter thread in Hunting Washington if you'd like to read it and perhaps send some prayers out. At this point, it's not looking good.

http://hunting-washington.com/smf/index ... 182.0.html

[elkstalker]

Situational awareness. Always know where you are, how you will get out, and know the country you are hunting. With modern maps and software you should have a good idea of major landmarks and topography before you ever get to the field. Don't depend on other people to scout for you, and always carry the right gear to get you home safely.

[Lost Dog]

Day 2 ----Looking for Elk


The rain began during the night and woke me from my elk filled dreams. We were expecting some weather to move in for a few days so we were ready and didn’t anticipate that it would bother us. In fact, we were hoping to use the wetness to our advantage. Wet leaves make a lot less noise than dry ones and if the temperature would just drop a few more degrees we would have some tracking snow.

Craig and I headed up Mexico Gulch before day break. Brian and Maurice started hunting directly north of camp and the other two guys were going to stick close to camp. I told them they could split some firewood if they had a mind to.

Our goal was to find the elk. After seeing only one calf on opening morning we just weren’t sure where they were. We were thinking that the elk were up higher than we had gotten the day before, maybe up at 10,000 feet elevation. That meant that we had to climb about 2500 feet over three miles as the crow flies.

Elk Lake, Lost Dog Meadow, R A Ridge, Savior Ridge, The Saddle, Big Meadow, Upper Beaver Ponds, Mountain Lion Gulch. These are the names of different areas/landmarks along the way to the top. Only don’t expect to find them on any map; they are all names we have come up with over the years to remember and describe to each other where we are or have been. My sons and I have been hunting this area for over 20 years and before that it was my dad and brother and I.

By 7:00 am I was in the The Saddle and I could look down and see Brian sitting in the Big Meadow. Surely, if anything moved we would see it. Maurice and Craig were out of sight but also in great positions.

Nothing, they just weren’t there. I moved up to the R A Ridge to meet Craig. By 10:00 the fog and rain had settled in, visibility was minimal. We moved up further and met Brian in the Upper Saddle for lunch. He had seen some small bucks but had passed on them hoping for one of the “big” bucks that we knew were up there.

One thing about that second day….there were no other hunters and we didn’t hear any shots.
We joked about how the elk were probably back at camp and that Seth and Abel would each have one when we returned to camp. We continued our hunt through the afternoon and I did see one nice buck and Brian jumped a couple of cows about a mile above camp.

We arrived back at camp just at dark and there was a surprise waiting for us. A big pile of split wood!

[Lost Dog]

Day 3....Finding the Elk


So, after two days of hunting on the north side of the road and not finding much sign and few animals we made the decision to hunt on the south side of the road the following day. Actually, just three of us would make that move; Brian, Craig and I. The other three guys would stay on the north side and keep trying.

Our plan was to split up. Brian and Craig would drive up the main road and then take the high cutoff and start from about 10,000 foot elevation. They would hunt downhill through pines and quakies heading to the “Lookout”. They would hunt slowly through the timber until they came to an open hillside that gave them a great view of the creek bottom and hillside on the other side. The only question we had was if there would be other hunters at the lookout point. We knew that there was an outfitter that sometimes set guys in that position. That was one of the main reasons we always hunted north of the road the first few days, we didn’t want to run into these other hunters. From our past experience we found that after opening weekend the “ Lookout” was often vacated and offered some good opportunities, we have gotten several bulls there.

Meanwhile, I drove down the road to about 7000 feet elevation. The idea was that I would start hunting at the bottom and work my way up. I would begin hunting in oak brush and open clearings and work my way up into the quakies and eventually I would come to the pines across from the “Lookout” where the boys would be watching. Hopefully, something would stand up and move and one of us would get a shot.

It was raining pretty good by the time I came to “salt lick meadow” so I moved under some large oaks to wait it out. It was shooting light and I was hoping that the elk were still out feeding or might be moving and I would have a chance. Sure enough, after watching for about 15 minutes 6 cows came across the meadow and headed up into the timber. Dang, too bad there wasn’t a bull.

The rain quit and I headed over to “toilet gulch” which was a hard place to hunt. Lots of brush with limited openings; a perfect place for elk. There was plenty of sign and I was encouraged after not seeing much the two days before. I kept going and wanted to get to the “Big Rock” before 10:00 am. This was another one of our favorite spots to sit and watch because the large boulder rose above the brush and trees and offered a great vantage point.

At noon I radioed Brian and Craig. They reported that they had seen some cows earlier in the day and that now they were in position for me to continue up towards them and come through the pines. As I was talking with them I looked to the west; another storm was moving in fast. I informed them,“ I’m headed for cover and will head your way once the storm passes.”

Fog and rain made it almost impossible to see anything but I did make it into some big spruce where I could wait out the storm. After a half hour it cleared up and I headed out. This time heading for “Jake Ridge” which would put me above where Brian and Craig were.

I entered the heavy timber filled with dead fall and slowly made my way along the hillside. My only chance would be to walk up on a bull standing or lying there. Realistically, I figured that if there was a bull in there he would get up and move out to where Brian and/or Craig would get a shot. It wasn’t to be and when I did come to a small opening I could look across and see Brian and Craig sitting in position.
“Anything moving?” I radioed. “Nope, nothing at all,” came the reply . “Ok, then I will head over to ‘Terrell Ridge”’and watch that area, you guys can hunt your way back up to the truck whenever you feel like it. Looks like no more storms today.”

Jake Ridge and Terrell Ridge are separated by a small creek. As I crossed from one side to the other I found lots of sign….hunter sign. Florescent ribbon tied on trees and even some brush that had been cut, maybe to provide a shooting lane. Public land hunting can be a little frustrating when you find that other guys have found your secret spot. But that’s ok, you just move on and look for another place where the hunters haven’t been.

It was 3:00 pm when I got to “Minnesota Flats” which is really not flat at all. It is a clearing on the side of the mountain that is shaped like the state of Minnesota when you look at it from a distance. I sat down to take a break and watch across the canyon. At first there was nothing; then I spotted them, three elk feeding in some brush and quakies across the canyon. It was a good half mile across and they were in some thick stuff. I put the binocs on them and could see that they were bulls. Not big, I could see brow tines and forks but it was hard to count points because of the brush that they were in. I figured they were legal 4 or 5 points each.

So what to do? At first I thought there is no way that I can drop down into the canyon and then climb up the other side to where they were. It just looked too tough. However, the longer I watched I began to give it some serious thought---- the elk were feeding and weren’t nervous at all, there weren’t any other hunters, the thermals were coming down hill and were to my favor, there were several land marks that I could identify once I was on the other side so I could keep track of how close I was getting, there was a natural draw that I could follow and keep hidden out of sight.

The decision was made and I headed out. Slowly, there was no rush, I had a couple of hours. Once I started I could no longer see the elk; I just had to hope that they would stay put. I reached the bottom and felt the slight breeze blowing in my face….perfect. I began the steep climb and the draw I was following wasn’t too bad, no trail but not too brushy and it was quiet walking because of all of the rain earlier. I saw the first pine to my right, I was half way there. Then the big dead snag on my left, another pine and then the first quakies. The elk would be a couple hundred yards to my right. I waited, I watched, I crept forward. The bulls seemed to have been swallowed up by the service berry and choke cherry brush.

There would be no elk that day, the conditions were just not quite right. The wind began swirling and I knew my scent was probably filling the air. I didn’t want to chase the elk away so I watched the area for another hour hoping that one of the bulls would step out into the open. Nope, the odds were against me and finally I headed back toward the truck. Overall it had been a good day, my spirits were lifted because I had found the elk.

[Lost Dog]

[elkstalker]

Great story so far! Keep it up, this is great winter reading

[Lost Dog]

Day 3 (continued)...Deer in Camp and Weed in a Jar


The sun had disappeared when I made it back to the pickup but it wasn’t completely dark. I headed back to camp and when I pulled in I saw meat hanging from the meat pole. Actually, I couldn’t quite see it because it was mostly covered with a blue tarp. My first thought was that Maurice had gotten a bull or maybe Seth and Abel had connected with a cow. It is usually a good thing to see meat hanging.

Brian and Craig were back already and they were sitting by the fire with Maurice and Abel. “Looks like someone had some good luck today,” I commented. One thing I noticed was that Brian had his hands and arms covered with a coat.

The guys looked at me with not much emotion. “Yeah, I got a doe,” Abel announced.

What the heck? That’s not a good thing because Abel didn’t have a deer license, buck or doe. (Now remember this was the first time Abel had been in our camp and only his second time hunting.) Lots of different thoughts were going through my mind. “Looks like we might have to have a talk with that game warden,” I said somberly.

“Oh, I already did,” Abel spoke up. “He came into camp this afternoon to see how we were doing, he offered me this deer. He had confiscated it from that outfitter’s camp up on top. He said that he didn’t have time to get the deer to the processor so he wondered if I wanted it. He would fill out the donation papers and everything. I told him sure because I don’t know if I will get anything else and I don’t want to go home empty handed.”

Well, that put things in a different light and I broke into a big laugh. “That’s the easiest deer we’ve ever gotten in this camp! Not a shot fired.”

Brian, Craig and Maurice all were smiling and I knew they had wanted to see what my reaction would be. Then Brian spoke up, “We’ve got one more surprise for you. Go look over by the toilet.” His hands were still under the coat. I knew something was up and these guys were trying to pull some trick of something. I just wanted to tell them about my day and about spotting those bulls across the canyon. But, oh well, I figured I would humor them. I headed down the trail toward the toilet.

It was getting darker by the moment and as I followed the trail I noticed something kind of out of place. As I got closer I realized there was a big buck laying on the ground right in the middle of the trail about 20 yards from our toilet and only about 50 yards out of camp.

“This is the second easiest deer we’ve ever got!” Brian was grinning from ear to ear. I now could see that his hands were stained with blood. He went on, “Craig and I got back just before sunset and we were sitting here next to the fire talking to Maurice and Abel when we all saw this buck standing over there, I had to get my rifle and get it loaded and I was sure he would run away. By the time I was ready that buck had put his head down to graze, he didn’t know what hit him!”

“Wow! The best part is we don’t have to pack him off the mountain, but we had better finish getting him dressed out and hung. Good job Brian! That is a nice buck.”



That was a good finish to my day and we were all in good spirits. Seth came back to camp shortly afterwards and he was just as surprised as I was at how we had two nice deer in camp. We ate our supper and each of us shared about our day. Maurice, Seth and Abel hadn’t seen much and were ready to come to the south side of the road the next day. I shared about seeing the three bulls and the six cows. Brian and Craig had seen some elk but they had another story to tell.

“Dad, when we were at “The Lookout” we found something kind of unusual.” Craig began the story.

“Yeah, we found where some guys had set up a blind but it was pretty much out in the open. There were some cut branches and a couple of folding chairs, you know the ones with the cup holder in the arm rest. There was some Gatorade and some potato chips and candy bars. Everything was just left out in the rain,” Brian added to the story.

Craig then continued, “What was most unusual though was the pint mason jar that was stuck in the cup holder in one of the chairs. It was filled with weed, you know the smoking kind, there was a pipe lying on the ground too. Whoever had been there had just left everything out in the open. Maybe the rain kept them from coming or maybe they forgot how to get back or maybe they were the ones that shot the doe.”

“We didn’t take anything,” Brian wanted to make that clear, “but we did rearrange the furniture. We hung those chairs up about six feet high in some oak brush and we decorated the brush with the Gatorade and candy bars. We didn’t mess with the jar of weed. We did want to leave a message that this is public land and it’s not a good idea to be leaving your stuff out where anyone can find it. I hope they were the ones that shot the doe and I hope they got into big trouble, maybe they'll think twice about hunting while they're stoned.”

[Lost Dog]

Day 4...Take Your Choice, Left or Right


Everyone was anxious to head to the south side of the road the next morning. Our plan was to take two vehicles to the bottom trail head. We would hike together for the first mile and then we would split up.

It was just light enough to see the trail without head lamps when we started and we hoped to be to Beaver Creek by shooting light. Abel was a little slow and we had to stop and wait for him several times. He and Seth had never hunted on this side before so we couldn’t just turn them loose. I wanted to get them to Salt Lick Meadow where they could watch and hopefully get their cow without getting too far back into the wilderness.

It turned out to be a good thing that we were running a little late. We were just a half mile up the trail when we came to the first clearing. Brian was leading and he stopped immediately and whispered, “elk, up on the hill.” He pointed across the clearing to an opening. “Looks like a couple of cows,” he was already glassing them by the time everyone caught up.

We all could see them and it was definitely shooting light by then. Seth and Abel had the cow tags so we expected them to stay hidden in the trees where we had stopped and then to find a good rest and take the shot(s). However, to everyone’s surprise Seth (who is a bow hunter) said, “let’s get closer.” He headed out into the clearing with Abel at his side. The rest of us stood and looked at each other. Why did he leave the trees? Why did he think that he needed to get closer than the 150 yards that separated us from the elk? Was he going to take a free standing shot without a rest? Didn’t he see that the elk had spotted them and were getting very nervous?

One minute, two minutes…..Seth and Abel stopped and it looked like they might still get a shot. The cows were standing broadside and still in the open. We waited, it looked like they were deciding who was going to going to take the shot. They looked back at us. We were all gesturing for them to shoot. Finally, the elk had seen enough and they took off. Boom! Seth finally took a shot when they were running through the brush. The elk ran up over the ridge and disappeared from sight.

“Why didn’t you shoot when they were standing still?” That was the question we all had when we got up to where Seth and Abel were. “I couldn’t hold my rifle still,” Seth admitted. Abel added, “yeah, I was shaking too much.”

“Well, it didn’t look like you hit anything with that shot but you have to go check it out anyway,” I told them. “Go find their tracks and follow them, look for signs of blood, meanwhile the rest of us will keep on hunting. Radio us if you find anything.”

So our plans had changed. Now Seth and Abel were going to go try to track the cows they had shot at, Craig and Maurice were going to head over to Toilet Gulch, Bear Spring and maybe even get into “No Man’s Land” and Brian and I would make a circle through the North Quakies and end up on the North Oak Brush Ridge where I had seen the bulls the day before.

Brian and I started our circle and were following a pretty good trail. We came out above where Seth and Abel were and crossed some fresh tracks in the mud. “Probably those cows that we saw,” I said. We followed the tracks for a ways and there was no blood. “Shall we radio the guys and let them know?” Brian asked. “No, I don’t think so, they need some practice tracking. We’ll let them figure it out,” I replied.

We headed up the mountain. Lots of tracks and fresh sign slowed us down to a snail’s pace. We expected to see elk at any moment and several times we smelled elk. It started to rain again and we took refuge under a spruce. “This is a great place to sit for a while,” Brian commented as we looked through the open space ahead of us. We each had a good feeling that today was going to be the day that one or both of us would get an elk.

We continued our circle when it quit raining because we knew that Craig or Maurice would be coming through the timber and brush on Terrell Ridge and we had to be in position in case they got something moving. Lunch came and went, Brian and I had a great view of the creek bottom and hillside across from us. We could even look to the east and see three dots of blaze orange up at the Lookout where Brian and Craig had been the day before. The stoners were back and Brian wondered what they thought of their ‘rearranged’ blind.

Two cows started moving through the timber caught our attention and we hoped there would be a bull following them. It wasn’t to be, however, and finally we decided that Craig and Maurice probably weren’t going to come through on Terrell Ridge; we figured they were into some elk of their own. Seth and Abel radioed and said they were watching the lower meadows.

“Let’s head north into those quakies where we saw all of the sign this morning,” Brian suggested. I agreed and we set off, it was 4:00 pm.

We started slowly hunting our way back and we still had this good feeling that something good was going to happen. There are lots of benches and little finger ridges and draws in those North Quakies; kind of hard to see because of the undergrowth, it’s a perfect place for elk to hide out.

“Brian, do you want to go left or right?” We were looking down into a small drainage and I thought it might be a good idea to split up. I went on, “you decide, whichever way you want to go I will go the other. One of us might run something to the other guy.”

“I’ll go right,” Brian knew that was a little further and maybe more difficult. “Hold ‘er steady and shoot straight when you see the big one,” Brian still knew something good was going to happen.

Ten minutes after Brian left there was a call on the radio. I thought it was Craig over on Terrell Ridge. “I just jumped a big bull, he is headed up country, all I saw were antlers through the trees.” We were getting close.

I headed down through the quakies. Slowly, very slowly…..three steps and stop, look, wait, three more steps …..half a mile, one mile. Tracks and fresh sign was everywhere.

The smell of elk was in the air, I had just dropped into a small draw. I saw some brown ahead in the brush, there was lots of brown everywhere, but this looked a little different. I lifted my rifle and looked through the scope, just a log, I put the rifle down and it looked like elk again. There was one small patch that looked different from the brown ferns that were all around, the thick choke cherry brush was hard to see through. Okay, I better put the binocs on it, I need a higher power.

With the binocs I could make out a different shade of brown attached to the lighter brown that I had been looking at, it looked like the darker hair on the neck of an elk. I continued to study the colors and moved the glasses more to the left. What is that? An antler or just brush? I had to make sure. I looked real hard, yep, definitely antlers. I couldn’t really make out the head it must be hidden in the small spruce that was there. I refocused on the antlers; that looks like a long brow tine, two, three , four point.

Now that I was sure it was a legal bull I had to figure out what my target was. I came back down the dark brown neck, the light brown that I had first seen was a front shoulder, no doubt now. I couldn’t see the rump at all it was completely hidden in the brush. This all took only a matter of a couple of minutes from the time I had first raised my scope and then the binocs till I had decided this was a bull and I had a small window for a shot. Raising the 30 06 I rested the barrel on a small sapling and squeezed the trigger!

The brown spot came to life exploding into action. Running through the brush and trees I lost sight of it for a moment. Then it appeared about 20 yards further down the draw. Only now I wasn’t sure if it was the same elk. Had there been another one? Was this the same one I had shot at? I watched through the scope hoping to see some evidence. Then I saw him start to sway and stagger, no doubt it was the same one and hit hard. I could see the antlers and the neck, he was still standing and struggling to walk. Another shot and the bull disappeared from sight.

I counted the steps to where I had seen the bull standing….22 steps. Wow! I had snuck up on him and he never knew what had hit him. Thank you Lord!

Brian called on the radio, “Dad, was that your shots?”

“Bull down!”

[Lost Dog]

Day 5...Meat in the Packs

We all awoke early and were eager to get started with packing out the bull that I had shot the evening before. The plan was that four of us would hike into the bull and quarter/bone it out while the other two guys (Seth and Abel) would continue hunting.

Seth and Abel headed out while it was still dark; they were hoping to run into a cow in the lower meadows where Seth had taken the shot the day before. The rest of us did take time to make a breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage which was one of our traditions after a successful hunt. Everything tasted good and we were in high spirits as we got our meat packs together.

Knives, sharpeners, Wyoming saws, game bags as well as lunches and drinks were all put into the Cabelas packs that we use for hauling meat. The skies were cloudy so we made sure we had our rain gear in case there was more rain. Craig would carry his 308 but the rest of us would not be carrying our rifles. We figured the elk was three miles back, the first mile we would be bush whacking and then we would be on a good trail for the last two miles. The good thing was that everything would be downhill on the pack out.

Up the mountain we went and by 8:00 we were in the meadow where Abel was sitting and watching. “Nothing moving today,” he reported. “Seth went on ahead and is going to climb the North Ridge. One thing though, he doesn’t have a radio with him and we forgot our lunches and waters in the pickup.”

I shook my head. How could they forget to bring lunch and water and their radio? “Here you go take a couple of our waters and here’s a sandwich. Don’t go off too far, stick to these meadows we should be back through here by noon. If we hear any shots one of us will head over this way,” I tried not to sound too critical of their forgetfulness.

It was another hour before we reached the kill site. Everything was just as we had left it. Brian had found me and helped dress out the bull the night before. Because it was late and getting dark we had done a quick job, sawing the sternum completely open and cutting the bull in half. Then we had pulled each half up onto some logs to get the meat off of the ground so it would cool better. We left each half hair side up and meat facing down to keep the birds from doing any damage. Temperature had dropped into the low 30’s during the night so the meat was good and cool.

We spent an hour cutting meat and putting it into bags and then into packs. We left the hind quarters with bone and hide and dropped each one into a pack. From past experience we knew the hind quarters would weigh about 50 to 60 pounds each; Brian and Craig would each carry one. The rest of the meat was cut off of the bone and put into bags. One front shoulder was busted from the first shot but not overly blood shot, very little wasted meat. We found the second shot had hit the neck and there again not much wasted meat. Maurice’s pack and mine would be close to 50 pounds each when we finished. The meat looked really good and we had kept it clean. When we were finished with the meat we cut off the antlers and took the ivories.

A couple of cans of sardines were opened (another tradition) and passed around. It was a good feeling to have meat in the packs…..another memory, another story!