The Plan

[six]

My first elk

After 6 hard days of hunting Tom and I decided to sleep in. At 630 my internal clock said it was time to go hunting. While Tom and I ate breakfast we made a plan. Tom would drive the quad to the bottom of the mountain. I would still hunt down the mountain from camp to where Tom was and meet him for lunch.

Off into the dark timber I went. While Tom was off on the quad. The dark timber was perfect for stalking. The snow had mostly melted from the day before. The ground was soft and quiet. As soon as the sun broke over the mountain the morning thermals were taking my scent up and away from the elk. I was thinking it couldn’t be a more perfect morning for hunting.

About an hour and a half and .8 miles into the plan I saw a 6 inch by 3 foot patch of yellow. I almost ignored it. Thinking it was just another faded out log or tree. There had been several false alarms this week, but I raised my rifle anyway to take a look through the scope. Holy moly that faded out log was hair. Beautiful blond hair. I raised the rifle a little higher and I could see an ear. Holy smokes an antler, a good antler with a brow tine. Yes yes yes a bull elk 40 yards away standing behind a tree quartering hard towards me. I lowered the crosshairs. There was about 3 inches between the tree he was standing behind and the outside of his shoulder. Should I? Boom the .270 rang and the bull rocked forward and out of sight. I sat down. I knew I hit him but was the shot good enough? He hadn’t ran off. Surely I would have heard him run off through the timber, or would I? I stared in the direction of where the bull was and told myself to give it 30 minutes. After 5 minutes I couldn’t take it any longer. Still no sign of the bull and I didn’t hear him run off. I quickly looked at the ground and it looked like I could take about 7 steps without making any noise. About the fifth or sixth step there he was standing broadside at 30 yards behind a fallen tree. I raised the gun as he lunged forward. Boom the .270 rang again. I sat down knowing the bull was mine. Again I only heard a few branches break nearby. He hadn’t crashed off in a panic like I had seen so many whitetails do. After a few minutes I slowly worked my way toward the direction of the last sound. I had only gone about 15 yards and I could see blonde hair lying beside a tree. The elk was down. He was mine. I rushed over to the bull. A solid 3x3 with 2 good brow tines makes him legal. I looked up to heaven and thanked God for my first bull. The sky had never seemed bluer than that moment.

I radio’d for Tom and told him the news. He said he heard the shot and was pretty sure it was me. Tom was soon on his way back to camp for more game bags and a pack. I broke the elk down the best I could until Tom arrived. Working on an animal while on the side of a mountain proved difficult to say the least. Things went much easier once Tom arrived. We quartered the elk then made 5 quarter mile trips to a trail. We hauled the meat the rest of the way with the quad. 8 hours later we had all the meat back at camp, we were exhausted, ready for dinner, and bed.

I would like to thank my two good friends Jeff, Tom and all the guys on this form. The information I have gotten from this forum is priceless.

[zpd307]

congrats!

[Elkduds]

Way to go! Appreciate the writeup. It is a serious reality check when you get a look @ your first elk down.

[ishy]

Way to go.