2015 Hunts lets hear some stories

[six]

Here's one.

My buddy Tom was hunting about a half mile away overlooking an "elk highway" we nicknamed "shooter" because we had let a rag horn slip down the trail the day before without getting a shot. We had planned on meeting up around 1030 for a snack and planning the afternoons hunt. Well about 830 I hear a single shot coming from his direction. After about 10 minutes he gets on the radio "I'm ok it was just a coyote". I thought to myself it was weird he led with I'm ok. I continued to still hunt in his directions and met up for the story and a cliff bar at 1030.

Tom said he was sitting on the ground with his back up against a tree and his gun across his lap. He said he heard some rustling leaves 30 yards behind him. Tom said he could tell out of the corner of his eye it was a coyote maybe 2. Tom set upright to get a better view. Tom said one of the coyotes saw movement and bolted toward him. Tom raised his 7 mag and fired combat style missing the coyote at 8 feet. He said it seemed like it all took place in a half a second.

When I got to him he said "I didn't kill him but he's def now".

[ElkNut1]

Mark, don't have a story at present but sure enjoyed yours, thanks! (grin)

ElkNut1

[saddlesore]

Quite a few years ago,muzzle loader hunting, we were getting up early and going to bed late The season started on a Saturday and it was a Thursday following. I was sitting up against a tree with my TC Hawkin resting against another , maybe afoot away. It was warm and I was sleepy and must of dozed off.

Something woke me and I heard leaves rustling.Thinking it was my brother,I turned 1/2 around and stared to say "Did you see anything" I got "Did You" out and right in back me was a bull elk,not 5 feet away with it's head down as he seemed to be sniffing me. Knowing I needed to be slow and easy, I reached over and jerked my rifle back( not so slow and easy) , threw it to my shoulder. The elk spun, I swung on it and pulled the trigger. Whooops, I didn't cock it. Almost pulled the brass finger guard off the gun. I got the gun cocked,swung on the elk and just as I pulled the trigger there was a pine tree about 4" in diameter in front of muzzle, maybe a foot away I didn't see.

Bark shattered, bounced back and hit me, smoke filled the air and when it cleared ,the elk was standing there, maybe 15 feet away. I pulled my quick load out,poured the powder down Slipped the maxiball in the muzzle,started it, and pulled my ramrod out to ram it home.

This was in the days before synthetic ramrods were invented.The maxiball went half way down the barrel and stuck. The hickory ram rod broke.

All this time the elk was standing there looking at me. I looked back at him and he walked off .

He went down over a hill a where my brother was ,who seen him coming. He set the set trigger on his CVA Hawkin and promptly blew a shot straight up in the air.The elk walked on by.

We had a good laugh that night and toasted the bull with JD

After getting home, I told my dentist, who was going in the same area, exactly where to sit and darned if that bull didn't walk past him.This time though ,he got tagged. It was a nice 5 X elk and his first one

[six]

Something woke me and I heard leaves rustling.Thinking it was my brother,I turned 1/2 around and stared to say "Did you see anything" I got "Did You" out and right in back me was a bull elk,not 5 feet away with it's head down as he seemed to be sniffing me. Knowing I needed to be slow and easy, I reached over and jerked my rifle back( not so slow and easy) , threw it to my shoulder. The elk spun, I swung on it and pulled the trigger. Whooops, I didn't cock it. Almost pulled the brass finger guard off the gun. I got the gun cocked,swung on the elk and just as I pulled the trigger there was a pine tree about 4" in diameter in front of muzzle, maybe a foot away I didn't see.

Now that's what I'm talking about. My favorite thing about this site is the hunting stories. Keep em coming.

[Lefty]

I had some great elk stories every Saturday.
One of the neatest times was the Friday after elk hunt closed. We sat at "my moose" hunt glassing area and listened to the elk bulls bugling . I could hear 7 bulls bugling from different directions, my wife could hear 12, Too much circular saw and power tool whine.

A different kind of story
My wife came up to the last weekend to help( watch me) break elk camp. She had her Kindle, the recliner set up at camp and the weather was nice.
My wife spends way too much time on her smart phone, Facebook and texting with her family. As we were driving in Friday evening she wanted to know where she had to be for service. I told how my phone received messages as I drove through the gate.
Saturday night as I entered camp she told the sad story how she had to go up to the government tower to get service. I asked if she drove to the gate
"YES" .
I mentioned it had worked for me every Sunday morning after leaving camp. She explained how she drove the ATV up to another fence line, then hiked to the top of the mountain for cell reception.

Sunday morning after breaking camp I opened the gate, As my wife drove the pick up though the gate she started receiving messages on her phone. I made some crack about how it always worked for me at the gate.
"oh"
Like it was my fault
She then explained how she turned up the 2 track following the fence, and never actually went to the gate.
Of course it was my fault she didnt walk right up to the gate.

I had a couple of nice locations for my moose hunt camp the tent surrounded by a few trees, morning sun, and "bathroom trees" nearby. Also a great location for next years elk camp.
Absolutely no cell reception, Unfortunately my wife soon discovered less than 100 feet away is 4G

[WapitiTalk1]

Six or seven 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). I bumped into him in the Hunting Washington or Fishing forum (can't remember which). He started one of those thread "hey, I'm brand new to elk hunting and would like to go on a hunt with somebody to learn a bit about it". After researching him a bit (seems he was a pretty darn good remote fishing guide in AK, was a moose hunting machine, and hosted an AK sportsman's program), I contacted him. Jeff turned out to be a great guy after we did the PM thing, spoke on the phone, so I eventually invited him out for a four day hunt. I was gonna do my best to introduce him to a few of the indigenous elk woods inhabitants . I think the season started around the 8th of SEPT or something similar that year and I had the first four days set up to solo hunt so I figured I'd invite him to my camp. Opening day, we worked our way, way back into one of my favorite wilderness area hunts and as of mid day, nobody seemed to be home (or interested in my sweet elk noises). 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 PM by then), about to take a break and munch a snack. Packs off, bows laying on the ground beside us, I told Jeff "well, you never know" and threw out a short two note locater. I really wanted to get Jeff into a bull. 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 coming in to see who was making the noise. I dropped below the log we were leaning on and quietly but excitedly 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 not just silently, but in double secret probation silent mode... 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" hunt/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.

[under H2O hunter]

This story is about a bull I nicked name Mike Tyson. He got that name because he was a real heavy weight fighter and his voice is really funny sounding. He likes to grunt a lot. I was able to pattern him and get plenty of photos and video of his fights. The first time I made a play for him I was unaware of his side kick rag which is a 5x4 medium size bull. It was early morning and Tyson was bugling along a spine ridge I dropped off the side of the ridge to keep the wind in my favor as much as possible. I got with in 50 yards of him and he starts walking right to me. He has no idea I am there. I set up next to a pine tree standing, watching him walk right to me. The wind is ok but not great. As he gets to 35 yards he all of sudden hangs a left and walks down hill 10 yards and starts lightly sparing with his side kick buddy. I was pinned in place and didn't feel like I could move without them hearing me or seeing something. I watched them just touching antlers for a few minutes when the wind finally got the better of me and they blow out.


A few days later I am on a hillside opposite of my previous encounter with Tyson and I spot Tyson and his sidekick. They are halfway down the mtn and they are now a little more fired up and start sparring hard with one another. Mike is a really worked up and after a short little bit starts to show his smaller buddy who the real champ is. Mike uses his weight really pushing his buddy down the hill and working him over. I was fortunate to capture this whole encounter through my digi scope and cell phone... Pretty neat footage.



Several days go by and Mike is seem to of gone missing. Finally Mike and his buddy feed out one morning back up on the ridge I am on the opposite side again just hoping they will bed down. I photograph them again and finally lose em as they are in some dark timber. Figuring they are gonna do the same thing in the afternoon I get over to the ridge and stay up on it till I hear a bugle come from the small opening I seen Mike and his buddy feeding in earlier that morning. I work my way over to them and finally spot the smaller 5x4 I set up and just watch him from about 80 yards. He feeds out into the opening fallowed by Mike Tyson just 10 yards behind him. The 5x4 bull feeds slowly straight to me over a 10 minute period. The whole time he is feeding to me I am watching Mike as he is feeding up the hill at a 45 degree angle slowly working his way my direction. Every time I have a chance to draw with the smaller bull feeding right at me Mike is not in a position to be shot. And every time Mike is in a good position to be shot his buddy has his head up looking my direction. My nerves are calmed by the time the smaller 5x4 feeds to 1 yard from me. Mike Tyson is 37 yards from my position and the Smaller 5x4 picks his head up and stares straight into my soul. I am one yard from a bull that I could of killed 10 times by now. But I am focused on killing Mike. After 10 seconds or so the small bull licks the air a few times and bolts down hill. I jerk my bow back and anchor but I rush myself trying to settle my pin on Mike who is looking around trying to figure out what the hell just happened to his buddy. Not sure if I am gonna have much more time to get my shot off I jerk my trigger rather then squeeze through my release. Mike is strongly quartering away from me and I watch my lighted nock fly through the air in slow motion. I think I watch the arrow pass in front of Mike but I am not sure as adrenaline is rushing through my body. Mike whirls and runs back the way he came. I sit down and pull out my phone and send some text messages out along with shoot a quick video of what happened. I wait 30 minutes and finally walk up and start looking for my arrow. I can't find my arrow anywhere. I can't find blood. I am at a lost. I could swear my arrow missed just in front of him. I have my bivy stuff with me so I let my girlfriend know that I am staying out all night and will be looking for arrow or blood or hopefully a dead bull in the morning.



The night goes by quickly after I set up my bivy tent and get a mountain house meal in me. First light comes and I pack up camp and head back down off the ridge and back to the opening. After a short time I find some blood drops. Not good blood but enough that I am happy to know why I couldn't find my arrow the night before... The blood trail goes about 45 yards and I find my arrow. Fully intact. No blood from the broad head going up 3/4 of the shaft but I have blood all over the fletching and the last 1/4 of the shaft. The blood trail goes another 10 yards and thats all the blood I find. I call a buddy and the two of us look for the rest of the day. We grid out a very large section but come up empty....The walk back to camp is very depressing... This the kind of bull you only get a limited number of cracks at and I have blown a golden opportunity. I start second guessing myself about shooting the smaller 5x4 bull that I could of had easily.

5 days go by and I finally get some closer. Mike reveals himself to me one last time but wants nothing to do with me. I am flooded with emotion as I am happy to see him alive. He is not 100% but strong enough that I know he will make a full recovery. I figure what happened on my shot was that I jerked the trigger pulling my shot to the left and instead of hitting him where I wanted to I end up hitting him up under the shoulder. It was strong quartered away shot one that you need to put the arrow just in front of the back hind quarter... Instead I think I hit up in the front quarter causing my arrow and my nock to look like it passed in front of him.