Hunter’s Journal

We set out our last day of a 5 day hunt with whatever thoughts burden the minds of pensive elk hunters.  Mine the thoughts of an outfitter on a hunt: that no matter how many mature bulls we have seen it just doesn’t feel right not closing the deal for Daren.  In Daren’s mind somewhere must be the ‘almosts’ of the last couple days and the doubting thoughts of “will I ever get my first bull?”  Mike, his brother, who was fortunate to harvest the heavy 6×6 two days before, pulling for his brother and wondering why he was so lucky on the coin toss.  And no matter how you stretch it, to hunt bulls of this quality these hunts are not cheap and the dollar amounts sure rest easier with that spot above the fireplace being home to ‘the dream’ rather than settling for the wife’s favorite picture another year. 

So we sleepily drive the 30 minutes to the ranch not talking somehow understanding each other’s world.  I park just in the usual, check the wind, glass through the dark and listen.  The night before we saw the elk head for the field but we saw no shooters, so mostly we know the elk will be there but will there be a shooter?  Sure enough I can see the shapes fade in and out of my fuzzy eyes and several bulls are posturing.  The night before, the herd bull was an over-eager 4×4 who for a night had all that he could have ever wanted.  We didn’t know that it was only for a night though and when a 300″ 6×6 skylined I almost didn’t want to say.  And then another shooter and the pressure left the Toyota like someone burst a balloon.  The game was on again, and we started to talk a little. Someone laughed and I breathed.  Now elk will do this to you in a sadistic addictive torturing way - show themselves and then head for the nastiest, rockiest, swirliest, windiest part of the ranch they can find.  Did I mention that there are 100 elk and 3 shooters?  Whatever you are thinking right now about where they are going, just picture three times worse. So bad in fact that the elk have to change directions several times just to keep from sliding off a cliff.  Even they are confused.  I think they have finally outdone themslves - they will be there for a week before they can get off that mountain.  Hours go by and we’ve got a plan.  A couple of times we even dare to discuss the size of that bull.  Mostly we think about the wind and send out vibes to give us one last chance.  Our approach is from the blind side - our wind is good and we are in the zone.  So focused, in fact, that several hundred yards into our hike I stop to share a word with Daren and Mike and they ask me if I saw the snake I stepped in the middle of.  I say no and we head off.  We spot the elk as we clear the last rise - a cow and a calf 80 yards away - the sentries and security system the old bruzer has built in for himself.  Then without surprise we know the herd is headed right at us.  For the next 2 hours we live with the elk.  We are 50 yds from the bull with no shot.  We are 70 yds from bull number two and a cow will not clear.  But can I say this - we HAVE A GOOD WIND a real elk-killing wind and inside we challenge the other variables.  Then we are pinned by a young cow and I say thank you to her youth as she turns her head and filters through the mob. Another hour goes by and we are at times too close, even in a good wind, but it holds.  Another 10 yds and we’ll have a shot, nope they are all flopping one by one as they begin to lay down.  The bulls sift through the cows and we back off for another approach.  We chill a bit and reach for cactus.  The bull screams and reminds us of our task, we creep through the velcro mahogany and there he is 120 yds away taking a break.  Daren knows he can make that shot, I know Daren can make that shot, and Mike calls out the range.  124 yards - we just need him to stand….quickly he does, the camera rolls and the air fills with white cloud.  It’s not the muzzle blast we hear though it’s the WHACK - the bull stumbles, he coughs and collapses.  We don’t talk again and it sounds like we are just leaving the hotel all over again.  We wait, mumble, and wait and mumble.  The approach is positive as we know he only went 10 yards.  Mike sees him first and says he’s got to be 330″ we decline but he is definitely growing.  In fact we’re not talking again.  Daren wrestles him from the tree, actually we all wrestle him from the tree, all noticing that he doesn’t budge.  His beams are super long and he is growing still.  So we don’t talk for a bit, not loud anyway no yelling here just WOW.  Last day WOW what a bull.  We know he was born a long time ago and we just can’t believe we got to hunt him.  A big thanks from all three of us.

Awesome hunt guys see you another day.

Later, Wes

338 6/8″