The Amusement Park Bull

[ceetoo]

As the wheels of the Cessna skipped down the runway toward the hanger, Craig and I exchanged a knowing smile.

“I think we just found our elk grounds for this year.”

“Yup. Time to put down some boot tracks and get a closer look.”

It was early August. We just landed after an aerial scouting trip, an exciting first for us. Craig would have a chance to get better acquainted with the area the week before season opened, but I wouldn't see the country up close until I had my tag in pocket and my bow in hand. I have a healthy respect for those with the time and dedication to thoroughly scout their hunting grounds preseason. For us this year, the adventure was in the exploration of new land. Our style of elk hunting relies heavily on calling anyway, so knowing where the herds are ahead of time isn't a requirement.

[ceetoo]

I carried a heightened anticipation into this year's hunt as Craig's son, and my Godson, Wyatt, was going to join us for a few days at the beginning and end of the hunt. He was with us a few years ago for a deer hunt, but this was his first big elk hunt. Unfortunately, a tough physics class meant the senior had to head back home for mid-week classes.

We arrived and set up a comfortable base camp at the trailer. There would be no spike camps this year on account of Craig's ruptured disc. While I would miss the adventure of camping out, I sure didn't loose any sleep about it going to bed on a tempurpedic mattress cover!

With camp set, we drove up the mountain and struck out on a random ridge to see what we could locate in the last few hours of light. In short time we generated two responses, and came across a young bull and a cow on the drive back down in the dark. It was just enough to build our optimism for the coming week.

[ceetoo]

The following morning we located a few more bulls, but none that we could get on. We did give a hunter using a hand held cow call a story to tell about the “bull” that he had screaming above him...

It was that second evening when the excitement level ratcheted up a notch. We followed an established trail system in to a ridge that, based on our interpretation of the topo maps, led to some promising habitat. Moving off the end of the knob we struck up our first response. Game on!

Wyatt and I moved in; Wyatt with his bow and me behind the camera. The bull was responsive, but stationary. Soon a second joined the conversation. We found ourselves playing “Army Bugles.” First we'd chase the one to the left, then the one to the right, then left, right, left...

For some reason we had a hard time judging distances in that area, and when a third and fourth bull chimed in, we decided to play the same game with them too. In the end, it turned out we were just along for the ride that evening. But it was a ride that I'd stand in line for all day long! And what an intro into elk hunting for Wyatt!

[ceetoo]

The weather was 23 degrees brisk again the next morning. We struck out in the dark in our layers, and before the sun could put shadows on the ridge tops we had two more bulls bugling. Damn I love elk hunting when they're vocal!

We set up on one that was moving in when he went silent. The wind had held, so we were perplexed as to what had buggered him. It was then we heard the cow calls above us. There were a couple other hunters that had moved over the bull, and the morning thermals had carried their scent to him. It was unfortunate, but they were just chasing bugles like the rest of us. When they realized it was other hunters they were stalking, they backed out in a hurry.

Shrugging off the lost opportunity, we turned our attention to the other bull. We hadn't been able to draw him to us earlier, but after sneaking inside of a hundred yards, we soon had him raking a tree. Once the bull was satisfied he had punished the young alder sufficiently, he decided to come down to introduce himself to Craig. Wyatt's headed snapped toward me with eyes wide. As loud as he could be with out saying a word, he mouthed, “He's coming!”

I pointed the camera uphill and followed the 6x6 down through the thick timber. Wyatt's timing on drawing his bow was spot on, but still the bull stopped three steps short of a shot. What happened next, I can't be sure, but clearly either Wyatt or I moved because the bull locked in on us. Craig did his best to distract him, but the bull correctly trusted his sixth sense and turned back up the hill.

We hiked out and sent Wyatt home to study physics with memories of what could have been churning in his mind. The weather had warmed to the mid-70's by that afternoon, and after watching the young man drive away from camp, Craig and I decided it was good afternoon to take a nap, change into cargo shorts, have an early beer and meet some of the other folks camped near us. Young Joey was certainly the most colorful of the bunch. The 8 year old could make elk sounds with just his voice with an uncanny accuracy! We gave him a reed, taught him some basics and sent him back to his camp squeaking some new notes.

The next several days brought a slow down in the number of responses. Ridges and draws, saddles and knobs, looking for bugles uphill and down like we were on some slow roller coaster.

[ceetoo]

On a random morning we drew the strangest of responses. It was a mew, but it wasn't a cow call. Craig called again, and now drew a short run of chuckles. Craig continued to poke at this bull with his calling, and over time was able to turn the bull more and more aggressive. Soon he was screaming at us and running – running – in our direction! At ~150 yards away I came to full draw! I could hear him smashing the limbs and logs on the far side of the ravine before clapping his hooves up the rocky face we were on. Unfortunately, he committed so quickly we couldn't adjust our position, and as fast as he came, he left after cutting our wind.

We continued to have days full of bugles, and others with only one or two before Wyatt returned. Our first day back out with the young man was nothing short of epic. After a slow morning we changed locations and happened to spot a bull on distant ridge. We studied the GPS, made a plan and struck out for the long hike.

Unwittingly, we took the hard way in and were soon reduced to sweaty, breathless puddles of dehydrated good intentions. We were taking a break and trying find our legs again when the first bull sounded off. With instant rejuvenation we broke over the ridge and down toward the bull. As Craig slowly wound the bull into a frenzy, other bulls began to sound off with their input. We again got caught in a game of Army Bugles, and went right when we should have gone left. Caught outside the timber in the sage with an aggressive bull screaming and closing fast, we could only hope he was seeing enough red that he would cross the open without care. Just then he stepped from the trees.

He paced just 40yds below us, but with the slope and the sage, all we could see was his solid 5x5 rack and exceptionally long G1's and 2's bobbing above the sage. Turning back toward the timber, he gave Wyatt an opportunity. The arrow found nothing but the rocky jolt of impacting the steep Montana mountain side.

We had just regrouped when another bull fired off so close we again couldn't make it out of the sage! Wyatt and I both came to full on the heavy 6x7, but the older bull didn't make the mistake of exposing himself in the open and we couldn't sneak an arrow in through the tree limbs.

The constant rush of adrenaline was exhausting, and we finally took some time to rest and eat. I was thinking a nap was in order when Craig came running wide-eyed back from nature's call to let us know that, well, nature was calling again! A quick check of the GPS and over the ridge we went...

Two more 5x5's came to investigate Craig's calling over the next few hours, and several more were heard too distant to approach before dark. The hills rang with the sound of elk bugling that night. I had experienced such a vocal display once before, but this one was even more intense. We stood for many minutes listening to the different bulls respond to each other. At some point we broke ourselves away and began the slow climb out under the glow of our headlamps, anticipation growing for what might be the next day.

The ride that day was off the charts, and I took to calling the area the Amusement Park. We dropped in the next morning expecting the same explosion of activity. Instead it seemed that all the rides were closed for maintenance.

We rested that afternoon a ridge further over than we expected to be. There had been a few responses, but nothing like the chorus of activity like the day before. A couple of bulls periodically sounded off far below us as we ate lunch and we'd respond occasionally. Eventually one seemed to grow closer so we decided to move in.

It sounded to us like there was a herd bull deep in the canyon, and we moving in on one of the satellite bulls. I dropped down as far as I thought was reasonable, then moved a few steps further. The young bull took his time meandering up the hill. When he turned broad side at 30 yds, I already had my pin leveled on him. The bright orange wrap and four-fletch arrow seemed to leave a visual trail in the air as it rocketed towards it's mark. In just a fraction of a second the arrow would... take a left turn mid-flight and sail off into the timber?? What the heck? Aarrrgggghh! Where did that branch come from and why didn't I see it?

<sigh>

Little did I know that this would only be the start of the day's roller coaster ride...

[ceetoo]

We decided that Wyatt and I would drop a little further down to hopefully pick up an opportunity at another satellite. After giving the first set-up some time, I motioned to Wyatt that we should move in closer. Craig began his advance as well, and soon we were all moving in syc, taking quick and careful steps every time the bull would bugle.

[ceetoo]

The bull was growing progressively more agitated. It was clear that if we put together our approach correctly it was likely we would put the bull on tilt and draw him in. We crept silently forward. Making our final stand, Craig gave the bull an aggressive challenge.

That was it. The bull lost his head and screamed with such force I swear my hair fluttered.

In moments he appeared. He was initially moving with a steady purpose, and I drew as soon as he gave me opportunity. His approach then slowed. Stealthily and deliberately he picked his way through a line trees toward where he last heard Craig, me standing directly in the middle.

My arms began to tremble. He seemed to pause longer with each step. Even the adrenaline of the moment couldn't sustain against torment build within me. Nearly to my breaking point, the big bull exposed a clear quartering-to shot not 18 yards from me. With one gentle exhale, my body seemed to relax entirely. My pin settled, I squeezed my release and the my arrow took flight.

The bull spun instantly, but stopped again at our cow calls before wandering back to his comfort zone.

It was here that I might have been on top of the world. Instead I was filled doubt and concern and insecurity about how the bull reacted to the shot.

We waited. I heard reassuring words. They grew more certain when we heard what sounded to be a crash. After an hour the track began. Dark blood. A bad trail. Then nothing. A bloody bed, then two. Then nothing again. Another hour.

If the bull wasn't already dead, he would be soon. He had bedded twice not six feet apart. He was hurt. I was beginning to struggle myself. We regrouped to lay out our next grid pattern when we heard it. Seven long moans. It had to be.

We gave it 30 minutes more and moved in the direction of the sounds we had heard. While hopeful, I was sick at the prospect of an unfavorable outcome. Words like, “the highs and lows of bowhunting” flittered through my head. I was certainly experiencing the lows.

“I got him! He's right here! Oh man... Chris!”

For some reason I almost couldn't believe what Craig was saying. I made way toward the sound of his voice. Wyatt was already there. Craig walked up to give me a hug. “We did it.”

Yes we did. What a relief. What a day. What a bull.

Slowly, the relief was replaced by a steadily building eruption of joy and smiles. Pictures. Skinning. Boning. Building heavy packs and the long hike out. What a wonderful, terrible, wonderful day.

[ceetoo]

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[ceetoo]

It was heading back in the next day with Wyatt to pack out the second and final load when the irony hit me. Here we were in the middle of an area we had labeled “The Amusement Park” to pack out an elk that had sent me on likely the biggest roller coaster of emotions of my hunting career. That thought kept a smile on my face the full 700 mile drive back home.

I know the ride may not always end the same, but I'll be up early to stand in line for it every year!

Cheers,
-Chris

[zpd307]

beautiful story! you typed it well. I too know that amusement park feeling.... except mine ended on a low. congrats!

[jswbga]

great hunt and excellent delivery.

I'm dreaming of the day when my boy can carry an elk shoulder out with me....

[Lefty]

Great story, Well done!!!
Some times the worst emotional part of a hunt is tracking

[BrentLaBere]

Great job guys!
Congrats on an awesome bull, Chris. Thanks for sharing your story with us.

[BRazz]

Fantastic write up -- and fantastic bull!!! Congrats!!!!

[Bow4Elk]

Congrats to you Chris. Great write up again. Great pics too. The Rosey hunt?

[ceetoo]

Thanks guys!

zpd -- Sorry to hear about how your ride ended. Better luck to you next year!

jswbga -- Having Wyatt along was such a treat for us. With the amount of elk we got into and the fun we had with Wyatt, this season would have gone down as one of my favorites, regardless of whether had punched a tag!

Ron -- Headed to the coast range this afternoon. Getting that bull out did a number on my back so I gave it an extra day to recover. Turns out I needed the time at work and to repack gear.

Cheers,
-c2

[Csrbowhunter]

I really enjoyed your story! hell I felt like I was there with you Great bull too!!!

[ElkNut1]

Good stuff guys! Thanks a bunch for the week in review! You guys did great! Great bull & a huge congrats to all involved especially the calling! Nice work!

ElkNut1

[LckyTylr]

That's an excellent write-up! Sounds like you guys had a pretty epic hunt and an incredible introduction to elk hunting for the young guns. Well done, that's an awesome bull!

[flystrait]

This was a fantastic week! I spent two total weeks there, I will write up everything on another thread

Nicely done Chris.