With apologies to Ed Zern

[pd]

The 2015 Late Season, In Detail

Here in western Washington the late archery season for elk hunters has just ended, with today (December 15th) being the final day to fill a tag. For me, dedicated as I was to complete this task with archery equipment (my first try), I was looking for a chance to finally tag out, and I took advantage of the last weekend to try my hand in SW Washington, in the forested hills close to the mouth of the Columbia River. This is my final report of the year.

In the two weeks following Thanksgiving the weather was unusually brutal: Rain, winds, power outages, flooded fields and rivers. We are used to November rains, but this Super El Nino has been something special. Sunday morning found me--along with my unsuspecting partner, Larry, recently retired from the state ferry service--deep in the woods, far past the loggers' gate. We had ridden our bicycles, to an area that has always held elk in the past. This late season would only allow us to harvest a cow, which is just reward for those who failed to harvest a bull during the early season in September. Well, we ignored the forecaster's advice, and set out to hunt in spite of the weather, and found ourselves on the losing end of that gamble. It rained, hailed, blew sideways, rained some more and even hailed yet again. We briefly saw a rainbow--just once--and then the hail returned. Larry, ever patient, but maybe too trusting of me, began to comment on the cold, the wet, the long bicycle ride, and the lack of animals; a good start to a hunt, to be sure. Just two weeks short of the winter solstice, hunting hours are quite limited in mid-December. We gave up just before dark, never having seen an animal in otherwise productive woods. This is hunting, Larry assured me (and himself), and we prepared for the next day.

Monday would bring a break in the weather. Having disappointed Larry with my best honey hole, we drove deep into the woods in the other direction, and headed for the high country timber. The only access to these woods is via bicycle, several miles in from the trucks. This day was foggy, cold, and in fact the winter storms had left snow on the higher peaks (quite unusual for the temperate mountains just 50 miles from the Pacific Ocean). Larry, becoming more skeptical by the passage of time, inquired about the steep ride ahead, and I assured him that today would bring flat roads, and even a long descent (on the way in, of course).

We found ourselves at an area known to our group as the Central Glassing Point. Essentially an old loggers' landing, on the highest point of a long finger ridge, the point affords 360º views for several miles. This point is actually mid-way on this long ridge, and the clear-cut sides of the ridge actually extend for a few miles down to the river below.

Arriving at the point, we were astounded to see a group of cows bedded right in the road, on the same ridge line in the last landing at the end of the mountain. Given the weeks' worth of poor weather, we were blessed with elk who finally tired of the protective timber, and came out to bed in the open hilltops. This--finally--was to be our chance to fill the 2015 archery elk tag!

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Except one problem: Those cows were bedded in the middle of a logging road, we were standing at the highest point on said road, and the single approach to our prey was to walk on that open, bright, unprotected road. You can see from the Google Earth satellite photograph above that our plight was dire; there was simply no way to make a stealthy stalk on those cows. After our adventure we used the rangefinder to measure the distance from the two landings: 648 yards, well beyond my capabilities with modern rifles, and certainly not with archery equipment.

So, what do we do? We have cow tags in our pockets, our bows are prepped and ready, and we have several (it would turn out to be 10) cows directly in front of us. Simple, right? Except, we had no idea how to solve this puzzle. One does not simply walk up to a cow elk and shoot her with an arrow at 40 yards, especially when our stalk begins from nearly 650 yards away. The slopes on this mountain are newly clear-cut, so there would be no stealthy approach from either side; besides, the cows had posted sentries on all approaches (hence their selection of this sight for bedding). We were stumped: What to do?

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Then I recalled my quiver-mounted decoy. This ingenious invention from a company called Poison Arrow allows the bow hunter to deploy a facsimile of his prey, to allay any fears on the part of the hunted. So, that is what we decided to do: Deploy the decoy, and just walk right up to the cows, and shoot them. I know: Men can be so simple-minded.

Our strategy was straightforward: Hold the decoy high, and walk with knocked arrows in a super slow but "elk like" manner. I in the lead with Larry in my hip pocket behind me, we walked towards our targets. We walked a few steps, stopped, sometimes bent to the side to imitate a feeding elk, and sometimes bent to the other side to be fair to the opposition. (It was Larry who later pointed out that our decoy faces just one direction, to the left, so that when we bent at the waist to our right, our decoy lady elk actually grazed the grasses in the sky, and not on the ground. Clearly, we are not the brightest hunters in the woods.)

Photo taken from where the cows were bedded, hunter at 30 yards

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After nearly an hour of this charade, we were getting very close. At a point later ranged to be 150 yards, one of the cows stood erect, and began to call to us, in a frightened voice. I suppose this was an "elk bark," nothing you would describe as a friendly "Hello, come into our living room for tea." Larry responded first with his cow call, and that seemed to calm some nerves. I followed with my own call, and that was nothing other than a disaster! The moment that I called, every single cow leapt to her feet, and all stood at agitated attention. What had I just done?

Regardless of my good intentions, the elk decided their visitor was Bad Juju, and decided to go somewhere else. Our hour-long stalk was ending in disaster. My arm--having held the decoy aloft for an hour--was sore. Larry, bent at the hip following in my shadow, was no better. Both of us, having painfully walked so far with broadheads ready, were not happy with the result. After the cows departed we quickly chased them, first down the mountain then again across the ridge, but to no avail. We never saw nor heard from them again.

We did hunt another area this morning, an open field that "always holds elk." By now you can guess the tenor of our conversation. I (the Guide) and Larry (the Tourist) speak of high elk population densities, living in easily accessed areas. The only difficulties are steep peaks, multiple stream crossings, wind, snow, hail, rain, and mud. We finished the day on a high note, folded our tents for the year, and headed home, somewhat sorer that when we began.

As I age, and get more hunting experience, I now understand that hunting means something much different for my generation. In my father's day hunting was an endeavor where there was a general expectation to bring meat home to the family; although he and his partners surely enjoyed themselves in the woods, hunting's primary purpose was to harvest game. I now believe that times have changed, and for my generation hunting has now become an extension of our recreational or even spiritual time in the woods; in this sense, hunting is not much different from hiking, or in my case alpine climbing. And with the adoption of archery equipment, the balance of power is so heavily tilted in favor of the animals, a casual observer would be hard pressed to say that elk hunting is anything but a tragic comedy, where otherwise intelligent men go to humble themselves.

As for Larry, he has wisely decided his own course, and our parting words were this: "Daniel, thank you for the hunt, but please be aware that I will never hunt with you again." Hunting is all about honesty, with yourself and with others, and I wouldn't have it any other way. (Don't be mistaken, Larry is a gentleman, and a strong hunter. I look forward to many shared opportunities in the future, even if I have to somewhat mislead him again.)

Thank you all for your support this hunting season. I have truly enjoyed myself and also the times I have spent with you, with some in the woods and with others in spirit. I look forward to 2016, and new challenges.

[Indian Summer]

That was an excellent post pd. I love a good story told from the heart. Do you think he is serious? If he is I really think that it has nothing to do with you. Elk hunting is never easy and sometimes people burn out on the long lonely game of looking for the buggers.

I know a couple really good spots around Naselle, Rosburg and Toledo if you're interested. The best time to hunt the spots is the archery opener. I'd be glad to hand over some GPS coordinates. I will probably never make it back out that way myself.

[pd]

That was an excellent post pd. I love a good story told from the heart. Do you think he is serious? If he is I really think that it has nothing to do with you. Elk hunting is never easy and sometimes people burn out on the long lonely game of looking for the buggers.

I know a couple really good spots around Naselle, Rosburg and Toledo if you're interested. The best time to hunt the spots is the archery opener. I'd be glad to hand over some GPS coordinates. I will probably never make it back out that way myself.

Thanks for the comments. No worries about Larry---he is a bit older now, and the hard charging hunt really pushed him to the limit. Come July, he will be knocking on my door, I am sure. (We are already planning a smelt fishing trip next month.)

[WapitiTalk1]

Great tale of the tape Daniel. Thanks for taking the time to write and post it up.

[DirtyErn]

Very nice post.
However maybe it had nothing to do with the hunt, but his hunting partner( no offense, I don't know you). Let me explain. I hike and bike most of the year , so when hunting comes around I don't come up lame.
One of my" hunting partners" always has to be right and some how you end up on his hunting adventures regardless of your input. He also doesn't what to carry the necessary gear for the hunt and thinks that your pack is community party on the trail.
I could go on but I think you get the point.
These issue have been brought to his attention around the campfire, and with no change
So I guess the point is ,are / where you being respectful of your hunting partner?
I hunted 18 days last year ,14 by myself.
I'm not done hunting , but I won't be hunting with Said partner in the near future.
So if you like hunting with this guy you may want to give him a call and see why he doesn't want to hunt with you.

[pd]

Thanks, everybody.

I think my writing was obtuse: Larry is a great guy, and is a real trooper. By "I won't be hunting with you again" I think he means "Man, this is too much for my old bones...." At least that is how I heard it. No offense meant, and certainly none taken.

Your style is not my style is not his style.

It is really hard to find a perfect match, in marriage and in hunting. 85% match is probably the best we can expect, don't you think?