Most Memorable Elk

[Swede]

Some elk haunt your memory and others you look back on with great satisfaction. Who knows which is the greatest. For me, my most memorable elk is one that got close , but not close enough.
It was about 8:00 AM, late season about the year 2004. The air was still rather cold, but the sun was promising to warm things up. All I needed to do was be patient and stay bundled up. I was sitting in my favorite tree stand waiting for the sun to come out from behind the trees that were blocking its warm rays. Suddenly, I hear some crunching of sticks and catch movement off to my left. "An elk is coming in" I thought. I stared and caught movement. A good bull was moving my way and had a cow with him.
Slowly I stood up and took my bow off the hanger. The bull and cow turned and sure enough they were approaching the water hole and wallow I was so near. At 60 yards I could see the bull was a dandy 6x6. I did not want to concentrate on his antlers, but just a glance convinced me he should beat 300 P&Y. "As soon as he breaks out of the trees he will be in the open at just 40 yards", I reminded myself. Still, I planned to wait until he was at the wallow which was a chip shot of 20 yards.
It had already been a long season, but I was still very ready. "Why does this bull have only one cow", I wondered as he continued his approach. All of a sudden a cold down draft came in from behind. Everything in my consciousness stopped. The elk stopped. I could do nothing. I froze in place and waited for only a few seconds. The answer to my instant horror came instantly. The two elk turned around and bolted away, Crash, Crash, Crash, down the draw, taking the trophy of my life and leaving me with what can only be described as an awful almost painful feeling.
Even though that hunt occurred about 10 years ago, I can still see those elk in my mind anytime I want to recall them.
What is your most vivid elk memory?

[Daved270]

Hope to have some soon!!!!

[elk.addict]

A number of years ago, a friend and I decided to hunt Idaho for elk. I scouted several times in the summer and found a fair amount of elk within a few miles from the road. But there 1 was area that looked really good on Google Earth, so my daughter and I planned a route where my wife could drop off us on a ridge top (from an old logging road), and then pick us up on the other end of the drainage, about 6 miles away. Long story short, it was the most brushy, windfall hell-hole I had ever been through in my life. About half way through the trip we found an area on the other side of the drainage that held a lot of elk, but I vowed never to go through there again. BTW, it took us almost 12 hours to go 6 miles.

So September rolls around. My partner and I could not find elk in any of the other places I had found them previously while scouting. We had went 5 days without seeing anything, and spirits were getting low. I had never hiked so much and worked so hard for so little. Well we finally decided to hit the hell-hole as a last effort to find elk. We hit the opposite side of the drainage (on the ridge), hoping it would be better going (and it was little better). We finally got an opening where we could bugle down into the drainage (we were about 600' above the drainage). I let a bugle go and had an instance response. I almost couldn't believe my ears. Next thing we know the opposite ridge lights up with a couple more. We decided to move down into the canyon. I won't go into too much detail to keep this story short, but we brought in a 6x6 but it winded us at 30 yards. The following day, we started up the drainage about 3 am. At 8:00 am, I called in a real nice 6x6 for my partner and he made a good shot, the bull went 30 yards. It took us 3 days to get the elk out. Each trip was at least 12 hours round trip, climbing over/under blowdowns and through brush up to our chest or higher. On the last day of our little meat packing adventure, I had a couple bulls bugle across the little basin we were in. The didn't seem interested in coming in, so I had my partner continue to bugle while I snuck in. I got to about 80 yards from the elk, but there was no way I could get any closer without getting busted, and I couldn't see them due to the brush. I did a real short session of cow calls and that bull came in super fast. I could just barely tell through the brush that he was a legal bull and I let an arrow go. I knew I had made a good shot, he was only 20 yards. About 30 minutes later, my partner showed up and we started looking for the bull. I expected him to go no further than 50 yards with that shot, but ya never know for sure. We looked and looked and couldn't find the elk or any blood. I couldn't believe it, the only I could think of was somehow with all that brush that maybe my arrow deflected. And then my partner shouter, "Oh, here he is!". Not 30 yards from where I shot him. The brush was so thick we must of walked by him a 1/2 dozen times. He was just a little 1x5 but I didn't care. Never been happier.

We were able to get this elk out in 2 trips. So we spent a total of 5 days packing meat, through the nastiest country I have ever hunted. I will never forget the trip. It was extremely tough hunt but it still remains one of fondest memories.

bull 7.jpg (302.87 KiB) Viewed 11113 times

[fm]

I would have to say the little rag horn 4/4 in full velvet I shot my first year elk hunting. I went up a draw that cousin told me they had seen elk in before. I had no idea where to go or any idea how to hunt for elk at the time. I had never read a book or anything about how to hunt them. There was a nice patch of aspen so I found a nice spot to sit and wait. About a hour before dark I did a few lost cow calls on a Wayne Carlton call I had just bought three weeks before heading out for the hunt. Sounded horable to me but that little bull was in love with it. He came running down to within 20 yards of me and stopped right with his chest covered up buy a tree. I was at full draw for so long I finally had to let down while he was looking around for that sweet sounding cow He finally looked like he was going to move so I drew back again and he took one step and I shot. He turned and ran back uphill and dropped 30 yards away. When I met up with my family they asked how big he was I said he was big. To this guy he was the biggest thing I had ever seen.

I did so many things wrong and if it was not for dumb luck and a young bull as green as I was . That was 8 years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday. I have shot 3 bigger bulls since that little guy but he will always be my best memory.

[Lefty]

The ones that got away
The 8 bulls all under 40 yards, two were over 360
the cow and calf arms length away, I regret not smacking it on the shoulder just for kicks
The miss at 11 1/2 yards on a 6x6, later he blew snot on my cheek
the 360 that beat the daylights out of two other 5x5.s and later was killed by a ranch hand
the one I sent 3 arrows over his back,.. using the 60 yard pin instead of the 30
Ill start crying if keep going
And the night I couldn't sleep, I was surrounded by the herd, the first cows /calves I had ever herd, A wonderful night

[Buglemaster]

Without question, my "mme" was not my own, but my Sons first bull. I called in a pretty 5x5 for my son who was positioned about 40 yds in front of me & the bull hung up at 60 yds from him. The bull proceeded to shred a willow bush & put on a terrific show. Looking back, I'm sure he would have came in closer, but Dusty took the shot. The bull was quartering away at the shot & his arrow buried to the fletch in the right ham (femoral artery). The bull stumbled a few steps & stopped when I bugled . Dusty turned a second arrow loose & sent that one right thru the boiler room. 3 more steps & he was down for the count. I will never forget the pride I felt at that moment in my son for keeping it together & making a fantastic follow up shot.(I was a total wreck). We did that man hug thing & all my emotions went to heck. He later told me he stayed pretty calm up to the shot, but when I got to him he was so excited he couldn't talk. I have an old school video of that hunt & mabe sometime I'll figure out how to share it with you guys. Who's next?

[LckyTylr]

You guys are probably all sick of my story by now, so I'll spare you.

The Huge 6x6 that I called in to archery range, broadside, and at full draw . . . 3 different times . . . once at 15 yards for more than a minute.

Never released an arrow. Pretty incredible experience. I did EVERYTHING right . . . but the Wapiti Gods still haven't deemed me worthy of drawing elk blood yet.

Maybe this next year.

[cnelk]

First elk are always the most memorable.
I have helped and been with 9 guys take their 1st Colorado elk [archery]
All those memories are most special.

But after that the memory gets clouded, when you and your buddies pull over 100 elk out of the mountains over the years, they kinda blend together.
But by all means they are all special.

I should write a book....

[Swede]

I should write a book....

You should my friend.

[Jaquomo]

The first bull that ever gave me a shot, back in 1976. I figured out a herd and let 22 cows and calves walk by before the serious 6x came into the meadow. I stopped him at about 5 yards. First shot went through his antlers (what was I looking at??). Second shot went over his back. Third shot went under him. Fourth and last arrow went up innto the trees when I jerked it way high.

He trotted out into the meadow and stood there at 50 yards bugling at me while I searched around in the grass for my arrows. It would be five more years before I'd kill my first elk with a bow.

[Wyo67]

I've been fortunate enough to bring home a couple of elk, but the most vivid memory is still the one that came in and got away in 2009.

My first year elk hunting, my buddy was calling for me. We got on to a bugling bull and convinced him to come towards us. Got a decoy setup in a small clearing and could tell he was coming in hot. Hearing the hooves stomping and branches breaking coming my way, I see antlers swaying in the forest ducking and bobbing as he charged in. About the time I hear him glunking (the only time I've heard it in the wild), I draw my bow back thinking I'm about to get run over. As he breaks through and stops at the edge of the timber about 3 yards from me, I drop my pin to his vitals "X" ring and BINGO! Nothing but an aspen tree blocking my shot. I'm not sure if he heard my heart pounding or my gasping for breath, but he stared at me for a what seemed like several seconds, turned back and ran back the way he came.

Needless to say, that hooked me for life and looking forward to every September since then.

[under H2O hunter]

The two most memorable elk for me both happen to be when I was 14 and this year when my son was 14. I broke a stick kneeling down to shoot this monster bull my very first year allowed to hunt elk. At the time it was legal to shoot spike bulls during the third season. I got caught counting horns rather then focusing on the task of getting a good clear spot to rest and make the shot.
This past season i called a monster 350 class bull into two yards from my son and he didn't draw until it was on top of him. It stood six feet away just starring into the tree my son was behind. When the elk finally busted out my heart sank and I was sick to my stomach. But seeing my son so excited and trembling was priceless and just added to the whole experience..

[Indian Summer]

Where to begin! So many of them.

On a 10 day hunt. Kept pushing further from camp over the course of the hunt until we decided to relocate to a trailhead in the direction were were pushing and come from the other direction. Day 1 after relocating my brother and I are eating sandwiches on a boulder just off the top of a ridge about 10 oclock and a bull sounds off below us. We drop everything and run down the little finger ridge that comes off the main one above. We get down to where we figure we're at the same elevation as the bull who hasn't made another sound.

Doug sets up below me and I bugle once to relocate the bull. React? He freaked out! Bugling his brains out he immediately closes the distance by half. At about 40 yards out but over a rise all we can see is the top of his 6 point rack as he trashes a tree and bugles and bugles and bugles. I decide to go with what brought him closer the first time and bugle again cutting him off in the middle of a bugle. Man did he get mad! He bugles again even louder with a big raspy scream at the end, so I cut him off again. Over the course of the next 30 minutes he kept moving away bugling and screaming and coming back to the same spot just out of range. Every time he bugled I cut him off and he came running right back, tore that poor tree up some more and bugled his brains out. All in all we probably each bugled 75 times and at only 40 yards.... but he wouldn't come any closer.

All of the sudden we hear heavy hoof beats coming over the finger ridge on the other side of him. Another bull bugled. Well that set this guy OFF! He bugles as loud as possible and rips the tree out of the ground. Now instead of me pissing him off these two are bugling back and forth and bull number 2 rolls around the head of the draw toward us. After another 25 bugles each I realize that bull #2 is going to be higher on our finger and pass in between me and bull #1 which means close... real close! Next thing I know here comes the lead cow at 10 yards. After 5 more cows there's only 1 more cow before boogie woogie bugle boy #2 is going to enter my shooting lane. But as the cow in front of him enters the lane she stops dead and turns her head to the right and looks right at me. All the while bull #1 is bugling like a mad man. So with the cow staring at me from 10 yards... instead of stopping bull number two rears up and mounts her. He bumps her forward a step and now her mid section is in my lane. He bumps her forward again and now her rear is in the lane. Another bump and his head and 6 point rack are right there. Two more humps and I let him have it while he's having the time of his life still on top of her. My first 6 point bull with a bow and squeaks into the book with a net score of 260 3/8.

It gets better!

So after some high fives we sit down with big smiles on our faces and hands still shaking to have a sandwich before following up to recover him. We are rehashing what just went down and yakking about what a great week it had been when all of the sudden we hear a bugle coming from the draw. Then another only half the distance as the first one. Holy crap another bull is coming toward all the commotion. Another pair of sandwiches hits the dirt as my brother creeps up over the finger toward the bull and I back off down our side to call. Works like charm and he comes right in. Not the original 6 point but a small 5. Doug lets an arrow fly at 20 yards which hit a twig, deflects, and literally cut his pecker right off!!! The bull walks off REALLY slowly and stiff legged. We found him about 200 yards away deader than a doornail before going to recover my bull. Two hours of insanity with over 150 bugles from that position rang in my ears for the next 2 days and 2 bulls down by noon from the same spot. Goes down as the best day ever in my book.

He's the bull on the right with his mouth still open bugling. Not my biggest bull but probably the most memorable, he died a happy man! lol

[otcWill]

WOW!! Best elk story I think I ever heard!! Made my day. I'll give ya a call in the next few days, Joe. Thanks for the story!

[elkmtngear]

I want to die like bull #1

NOT like bull #2!

Joe, anything I post after that would be a waste of effort!

I agree with Will...best elk story I've ever heard!

[timberland]

Was hunting the Breaks about 10 years ago when the Fort Peck Reservoir was real low. Found a drainage that a couple herds were traveling to access the flood plain to feed in the evening. One evening I sat at the mouth where it necked down to about 100 yds across. I sat about in the middle with my feet hanging in the dry run behind some sage so I could shoot both sides. Right before dark I hear elk moving but do to the echos in the ravine I thought the herd was in front of me. At the last minute the sounds switch and a cow strolls out ten yards to my right and stops. Two raghorns walk between me and her and stand on the lip that I'm sitting on about 5 yds in front and a little right of me. The closer bull sees me, turns and comes to investigate. At about 8' he stops and is literally looking down at me.

After about a minute the gig is up and he turns back up the ravine taken the other bull and cow with him. I come to full draw as I turn to my left to face about 40 elk standing in the ravine waiting for the coast to clear. At the back of the herd was an Honest-to-Goodness, HOLY-CRAP, 7PT. His sixth points were about 6" long. I don't know what he'd score, but by far bigger than anything I've seen alive, and as big as anything hanging in Cabela's. Broadside at 40 yds and I'm already at full draw. The herd is starting to cross the ravine between me and the bull so I have to wait for the traffic to clear before there is any shot. My pin is in his general area as I'm waiting for the elk to clear out of my sight window. Cow, cow, calf, cow, calf, spike, cow, raghorn, calf, cow, one by one they walk fast in front of the bull. Now this is the picture that makes me wake up in the middle of the night. There is about 3 cows at the end of the line when Moses decides he needs to get on the move and he does, keeping one of the last cows between him and me. Across the ravine, over the ridge, out of sight...forever.

Saw some monster bulls on that hunt including a nontypical with double thirds and forths on both sides and a 6x7 that was the second biggest bull I've seen on the hoof, but the sight of that 7pt I will still talk about if I ever get Alzheimers. He will never leave my head.

[Gutpile]

I shot my first and only elk, a cow, with a bow in 2012, but it's not my most memorable. Back in 2006 i was hunting elk with my closest buddy during the second rifle season in Colorado. This guy gets an elk every year from this spot, but is a meat hunter and goes after 2-3 year old cows. We walked about 4 miles in to a small draw in the middle of hunting pressure from both sides but never saw a person in there but us. We snuck to a good spot and could hear the sounds of a critter up ahead, but it was still pretty low light. I realized i'd not put a shell in the chamber, so i tried to get this done quietly (ya right). The clang of the metal seemed louder than just yelling to the elk, and we heard and saw the but end of a fat cow running away. I was disgusted, but my buddy was probably more so. After collecting ourselves we moved on and started tracking some fresh morning prints in the snow. We walked quite a ways and never did get up to those tracks. Mid day now and the wind had come up and it was getting downright cold. We sat over a couple of good meadows where elk have been seen before and froze for almost 4 hours. No action. We start working our way back toward camp and hunt across an old forest service road. It's starting to get low light but around the next bend we can see elk through the trees. They were going to cross the road and give us a good shot. I was up so i set up and waited. The first elk across the road were three calves and i didn't really want to shoot one of those with more mature animals behind. I guess they were sending the young and dumb across the path first. All i remember was my buddy repeatedly yelling in my ear to shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, so i almost as a reflex took one down. My buddy then moved forward, but the sound of the shot confused those elk and they did not want to cross the road anymore. He tried to shoot through the trees and get a large cow down. It sounded like a war zone, surely one shot found its mark? All the while i could see above where he was shooting some antlers moving back and forth. When he ran out of shells, the elk had had it with this noise and decided to get out of there. It turned out to be a bad call on their part. What i thought was a rag horn turned out to be a good herd bull - he ran across an open clearing about 60 yards from me. I can still see the white tips of his rack in my mind and the trail of elk behind him following him out of there. I was shaking pretty bad and had to bring the rifle down once before focusing and was able to get a shot off as he ran by. I remember a rather impressive 4x5 chasing after the rest of the bunch heading back up the hill too. When the dust settled we looked all over for blood since my buddy had unloaded his gun. Turns out the Aspens were the only ones that paid for that onslaught. We turned around and looked for the bull i shot at. We found large blood right off and found him dead about 50 yards down the hill. We had two elk down, one of which is my best elk and certainly my most memorable one!

[Indian Summer]

Not sure I have that right: You shot at one. Then your buddy emptied his gun and missed....hitting only the aspens. Then a different one, the bull, ran out & you shot at that one. Your buddy missed, hitting only the trees, and two elk down. Hmm Hope I'm misunderstanding that.

Edit: I just re-read that and saw the word "almost". Now I got it! Except for the 2nd elk down. I guess he hit one?

[Gutpile]

I had both a cow and a bull tag. I filled both that day - my buddy just scared some

[Swede]

I enjoyed your story I.S. We always consider a broadside through the lungs to be a great place to shoot an animal. After reading about your brother's shot placement, I am wondering if we should we be a little more flexible? I have had to pass on elk that had too much of their front half covered by trees or brush. Now I am thinking and thinking.

[WapitiTalk1]

Four years ago or so I invited a guy from Alaska to hunt with me in WA (he'd recently relocated that summer from AK to WA to work in Seattle's West Marine). Bumped into him in the Hunting Washington or Fishing forum (can't remember which). Since he was here, Jeff has since relocated to the East coast to manage a West Marine for a year or so and now he's back in Anchorage. You can track him down on the web.. name is Jeff Varvil... moose slayer/premier float fishing guide/outdoor radio show host for 96.3 The Wolf in Anchorage/hockey player. Great guy. I think the season started around the 8th of SEPT or something similar. We did one of my favorite wilderness area hunts that morning and with no luck. We stopped on a game trail a few hundred yards above a small area that has had seasonal wallows in the past (probably around 1200 by then), about to take a break and munch a snack. Packs off, bows laying on on the ground beside us, I told Jeff "well, you never know" and threw out a short locater. I really wanted to get Jeff into a bull as he'd never hunted elk before. Within 35 or 40 seconds, I glanced over my right shoulder, down in the small open draw below us (30 yards or so) and there was very, very nice mature 6 point walking directly towards us. No sound, not a peep, just a very nice 6 point WA Roosey. I dropped below the log we were leaning on and said "Jeff, knock and arrow, knock an arrow".. It all happened way too late and the bull turned and went back down in the direction of the wallow area... The roosey came in nost just silently, but double secret probation silent... He had come from the wallow area, over the top of the opposite brushed choked ridge, and was coming to see us without a peep. Why was this "no shot" bull so memorable to me? It serves as a constant reminder that impatience is one of my shortcomings. "I" screwed up an opportunity for my Alaska friend to get a shot at a nice bull by not setting up before I tooted my horn.

[flystrait]

Four years ago or so I invited a guy from Alaska to hunt with me in WA (he'd recently relocated that summer from AK to WA to work in Seattle's West Marine). Bumped into him in the Hunting Washington or Fishing forum (can't remember which). Since he was here, Jeff has since relocated to the East coast to manage a West Marine for a year or so and now he's back in Anchorage. You can track him down on the web.. name is Jeff Varvil... moose slayer/premier float fishing guide/outdoor radio show host for 96.3 The Wolf in Anchorage/hockey player. Great guy. I think the season started around the 8th of SEPT or something similar. We did one of my favorite wilderness area hunts that morning and with no luck. We stopped on a game trail a few hundred yards above a small area that has had seasonal wallows in the past (probably around 1200 by then), about to take a break and munch a snack. Packs off, bows laying on on the ground beside us, I told Jeff "well, you never know" and threw out a short locater. I really wanted to get Jeff into a bull as he'd never hunted elk before. Within 35 or 40 seconds, I glanced over my right shoulder, down in the small open draw below us (30 yards or so) and there was very, very nice mature 6 point walking directly towards us. No sound, not a peep, just a very nice 6 point WA Roosey. I dropped below the log we were leaning on and said "Jeff, knock and arrow, knock an arrow".. It all happened way too late and the bull turned and went back down in the direction of the wallow area... The roosey came in nost just silently, but double secret probation silent... He had come from the wallow area, over the top of the opposite brushed choked ridge, and was coming to see us without a peep. Why was this "no shot" bull so memorable to me? It serves as a constant reminder that impatience is one of my shortcomings. "I" screwed up an opportunity for my Alaska friend to get a shot at a nice bull by not setting up before I tooted my horn.

They are stealthy and effecient!

[bowhunter99]

2010.
5x5. Eight yards broadside. Standing still.
Clean miss...are you kidding me?

[Washington Wapiti]

Most memorable elk isn't even a hunting story, but introduced me to the awesomeness of this animal in the midst of tragedy. Way before I even started hunting them I was having a lot of encounters with elk, while working in the backcountry. I worked seasonally at Mt. Rainier National Park for 5 years, and my last year there was in 2001. On Tuesday, September 11th, I had come into the resources office in Longmire to gear-up and take off for a week in the backcountry to set-up lynx hair-snare stations. Me and my partner had come in shortly after the attacks on the towers had happened. It was so fresh, it still wasn't even clear from the news reports what exactly was going on. Cori and I had to be on our way and so we drove to our location, muscled on our packs, and were off for the high country. We had finished up our day and it was going to be dark in an hour or two, so we set up our bivvys on the edge of a stunning high-altitude park and got our dinners going. A couple planes flew over head and I couldn't help but obsess about what was going on in the real world. We literally did not even know. All we knew was that planes had hit the towers. That was it. About 2 hours or so after heading to bed, a bugle erupted, breaking the dead silence and causing me to shoot straight up in my sleeping bag out of a deep sleep. Any pasta I ate that night was scared right outta me! There was then another, and then another coming from this way, and another coming from that way. Those elk weren't anymore than 100 yards away from our camp and they were LOUD. I have no idea how many there were, but at the time it sounded like hundreds. I eased back down onto my sleeping pad and just listened. Bugles were ripping all over the place and it went on for hours. It seemed endless. It was truly an awesome spectacle. I'm sure there was cow talk in there too, but I can't be sure. The memory fades. I eventually fell asleep to it and was woken a couple of times through the night/morning. I still have never heard elk talk like that since. 2012 season while hunting was the closest I've heard. I was woken up around 3am by a few bulls sounding off, one of which was very near me . . . but still not even close to that first time. We didn't learn the full extent of 9/11 until after we got back a week later.

[cnelk]

There is one particular story I would like to share.

About 20+ years ago, I met a kid at work who had not hunted much and never shot an elk.
His name was Rod. He was a nice kid. Polite, genuine and he quickly became a true friend
We talked about making a plan going the 3rd Rifle season. He went and got himself a 30-06
We were going to haul the horses up, set up wall tents, the whole SHE-BANG.
So we did.
The weather was perfect for rifle hunting, -20 and about a foot of snow. We got into elk but Rod didnt connect that year.
He had so much fun that he could wait until the next year.

So, the next year we did the same thing. Haul up the horses, set up wall tents and hunt the 3rd rifle season.
Rod's brother Cary joined us this year.
But this year I packed up a horse with a spare wall tent and the 3 of us packed in about 5 miles in the cold and snow.
No cots, just sleeping bags, a propane heater, some water and oatmeal
We got the tent set up and we went our separate ways for the afternoon.
Cary and I met up on a trail and we were sitting hanging out when I see this spike elk coming trotting toward us.
[Spikes were legal then] I told Cary to shoot!!!
I drew down on the elk and waited and waited, He didnt have a shot so he said for me to shoot.
BOOM! Dead elk
We took care of the elk and met Rod back at the tent for the night.
The next morning after our oatmeal, I told Rod to head 100yds east of the tent to an aspen opening and Cary went to the west.
I stayed in the tent and got my gear ready to pack my elk out.
They werent gone but 5 minutes when I heard Rod shoot!
BOOM! ---- BOOM! ----- BOOM!-----BOOM!
I was thinking 'COOL!'
Now hes reloading!!!
Sure enough.... BOOM!.....BOOM!
Then nothing....
I hurried out to catch up to Rod and found him all excited and smiles!
Bull Down! A nice 5x5!
His first!

I cant remember the details after that, but I know we got the two elk out and packed up and headed back to base camp.
We worked and hunted together for a few more years and had more elk down.

Then one day, about 10 years ago, Cary called me..
Rod had been killed in an accident in the mountains.
It seems that someone was pulling a big trailer while coming down a curvy mountain road.
The trailer came unhooked and hit Rod's truck head-on.
He was killed instantly

That aspen opening where we butchered his first bull elk will always be memorable.

I miss Rod

Edit:
After writing the above, I found out that Cary passed away 2 years ago from brain cancer.

[under H2O hunter]

There is one particular story I would like to share.

About 20+ years ago, I met a kid at work who had not hunted much and never shot an elk.
His name was Rod. He was a nice kid. Polite, genuine and he quickly became a true friend
We talked about making a plan going the 3rd Rifle season. He went and got himself a 30-06
We were going to haul the horses up, set up wall tents, the whole SHE-BANG.
So we did.
The weather was perfect for rifle hunting, -20 and about a foot of snow. We got into elk but Rod didnt connect that year.
He had so much fun that he could wait until the next year.

So, the next year we did the same thing. Haul up the horses, set up wall tents and hunt the 3rd rifle season.
Rod's brother Cary joined us this year.
But this year I packed up a horse with a spare wall tent and the 3 of us packed in about 5 miles in the cold and snow.
No cots, just sleeping bags, a propane heater, some water and oatmeal
We got the tent set up and we went our separate ways for the afternoon.
Cary and I met up on a trail and we were sitting hanging out when I see this spike elk coming trotting toward us.
[Spikes were legal then] I told Cary to shoot!!!
I drew down on the elk and waited and waited, He didnt have a shot so he said for me to shoot.
BOOM! Dead elk
We took care of the elk and met Rod back at the tent for the night.
The next morning after our oatmeal, I told Rod to head 100yds east of the tent to an aspen opening and Cary went to the west.
I stayed in the tent and got my gear ready to pack my elk out.
They werent gone but 5 minutes when I heard Rod shoot!
BOOM! ---- BOOM! ----- BOOM!-----BOOM!
I was thinking 'COOL!'
Now hes reloading!!!
Sure enough.... BOOM!.....BOOM!
Then nothing....
I hurried out to catch up to Rod and found him all excited and smiles!
Bull Down! A nice 5x5!
His first!

I cant remember the details after that, but I know we got the two elk out and packed up and headed back to base camp.
We worked and hunted together for a few more years and had more elk down.

Then one day, about 10 years ago, Cary called me..
Rod had been killed in an accident in the mountains.
It seems that someone was pulling a big trailer while coming down a curvy mountain road.
The trailer came unhooked and hit Rod's truck head-on.
He was killed instantly

That aspen opening where we butchered his first bull elk will always be memorable.

I miss Rod

Edit:
After writing the above, I found out that Cary passed away 2 years ago from brain cancer.

Sorry for the loss. Thanks for sharing that. I read a plaque up on the mountain I hunt and a hunting buddies ashes were placed there with a beautiful piece of poetry. They memorialized this mans favorite spot. Your story makes me think of that for some reason. Nothing like the true love for another person to make you reflect like that. Absolutely beautiful.

[Swede]

It sure seems that sadness can make memories more vivid and precious. Thanks Shawn & Brad.

[JCS]

The most memorable for me would have to be the only experience I had hunting elk. My first time out was last season in Colorado. This was the same time that they were getting all the rain and flooding. It was are last day of hunting. I climbed to about 11,500 ft and called in a bull to 15 yards. I pulled back and let the arrow go. As soon as the arrow hit the elk, I heard a loud tha-wack sound. I knew I hit him but, I was told in an earlier post that the tha-wack sound I heard was the arrow hitting the shoulder bone. At that same time, it started pouring down rain and didn't let up for about 2 hours. No blood, no nothing. I never did find him. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened.

[pikemaster]

I have several but one that sticks out to me was 5 years ago. A good friend of mine told me that his dad and mom were coming out to hunt with us on are muzzy elk hunt. It would be his dads first time ever elk hunting. I remember him coming to me an asking if I would help him get his dad a bull this year, with out even having to think about it I told him that it would be my pleasure to help even though I new it ment putting my hunt on the back burner. Opening moring found us set up in a spot that we new held elk, after 15 min of calling and nothing showing Chuck and I decided to move further down the valley. As we were walking we noticed that chucks mom had not gathered up her stuff and had not moved an inch. Not putting 2 and 2 togther we just keep walking twords her, when we got close to her we relized why she hadn't move. Not 15 feet away from her stood a 5x5 that had snuck in un announced and had her pinned, and as soon as we saw him he saw us and was out of there in a hurry. Yep we messed that on up. Me and chuck cought a lot of grief on that one. On the third day of the hunt had us back in the same spot where the 5x5 snuck in on us, we set up a little different this time. Chuck and I started calling and got a bull to bugle close to where we set his dad up, 30 secounds later one shot rang out, bull down came screaming from his dad. We had done it we got his dad his bull a nice 5x6. I don't know who was happier Chuck or his dad. This was the last hunt I got to go on with Chuck. He passed away later on that year from a massive stroke he was only 36. This is one hunt that will always be at the top of my list.

[ishy]

jcs you need to check out blue star, it makes blood glow in the dark and even works better in rain. I found out about it after loosing a trophy moose I shot in the rain. I will always have some in camp after seeing it work.
http://www.bloodglow.com/
buglemaster my wife bought me a Roxio converter for around $40 that is easy for transfering any old tapes (vhs, 8mm etc.) to digital.

Now my favorite call in was one of those last few days of an excetionally slow and quiet season. I was in a new area and was actually on my way out trying to make it to a different spot before dark. Just took a minute to eat something and let out a bugle. Had a couple bulls start up. We bantered back and forth for about 30 minutes, and then you could tell the closer bull was on his way. He sounded good chuckling and grunting, but not overly loud compared to the second bull. He finally stepped out, a little 2x3 with a cow. He was head on at 30 yards... and just kept coming... and coming. He walked right up to the bush I was behind bugled and raked his antlers for a minute. I had two trees next to the bush on my left and thought I could draw if he went that way. He did and I tried to draw, but a twig caught my lower cam. As I let down and attepted to draw again the cow barked as she had been eyeing me for a while as was nervous already. Then everything exploaded! No meat for the freezer, but one of those experiences you'll never forget.

[Washington Wapiti]

There is one particular story I would like to share.

About 20+ years ago, I met a kid at work who had not hunted much and never shot an elk.
His name was Rod. He was a nice kid. Polite, genuine and he quickly became a true friend
We talked about making a plan going the 3rd Rifle season. He went and got himself a 30-06
We were going to haul the horses up, set up wall tents, the whole SHE-BANG.
So we did.
The weather was perfect for rifle hunting, -20 and about a foot of snow. We got into elk but Rod didnt connect that year.
He had so much fun that he could wait until the next year.

So, the next year we did the same thing. Haul up the horses, set up wall tents and hunt the 3rd rifle season.
Rod's brother Cary joined us this year.
But this year I packed up a horse with a spare wall tent and the 3 of us packed in about 5 miles in the cold and snow.
No cots, just sleeping bags, a propane heater, some water and oatmeal
We got the tent set up and we went our separate ways for the afternoon.
Cary and I met up on a trail and we were sitting hanging out when I see this spike elk coming trotting toward us.
[Spikes were legal then] I told Cary to shoot!!!
I drew down on the elk and waited and waited, He didnt have a shot so he said for me to shoot.
BOOM! Dead elk
We took care of the elk and met Rod back at the tent for the night.
The next morning after our oatmeal, I told Rod to head 100yds east of the tent to an aspen opening and Cary went to the west.
I stayed in the tent and got my gear ready to pack my elk out.
They werent gone but 5 minutes when I heard Rod shoot!
BOOM! ---- BOOM! ----- BOOM!-----BOOM!
I was thinking 'COOL!'
Now hes reloading!!!
Sure enough.... BOOM!.....BOOM!
Then nothing....
I hurried out to catch up to Rod and found him all excited and smiles!
Bull Down! A nice 5x5!
His first!

I cant remember the details after that, but I know we got the two elk out and packed up and headed back to base camp.
We worked and hunted together for a few more years and had more elk down.

Then one day, about 10 years ago, Cary called me..
Rod had been killed in an accident in the mountains.
It seems that someone was pulling a big trailer while coming down a curvy mountain road.
The trailer came unhooked and hit Rod's truck head-on.
He was killed instantly

That aspen opening where we butchered his first bull elk will always be memorable.

I miss Rod

Edit:
After writing the above, I found out that Cary passed away 2 years ago from brain cancer.

I'm really sorry to hear about this horrible accident Brad. A great memory of your friend and his brother.

[Washington Wapiti]

It sure seems that sadness can make memories more vivid and precious. Thanks Shawn & Brad.

Swede, it sure can. Two such completely different situations intertwined together in my memory forever.