A Minnesota Elk Hunting Story - Part 3

[Gissert]

Finally I was done in Montreal, and flew home on the 14th of September.

I packed up the trailer, and headed out with my father in law on the 16th.

We pulled into the city owned camping area in Grygla in mid afternoon and set up the camper. What a nice facility this is, and reasonably priced too. Full hook ups for fifty bucks a week, and bathrooms and shower to boot.

Once camp was set up, we headed out in the early evening to do some scouting. We introduced ourselves to the landowners, and let them know what our plans were going to be. It was a pleasure to meet the people who had been so kind and generous to me over the phone.

We looked over the traditional bugling grounds west of CR#54, but did not find any fresh tracks, or any sign of rutting activity. The owner’s son had called me the prior afternoon and said that it looked as if the elk were hanging out about three miles to the east, along the eastern boundary line of the zone. This was where the elk tracks I had found in my last scouting mission were taken.

There were a lot of soybeans in this area, and the elk had really been hitting them in one particular area.

As the evening light began to fade, the bugling began. I could hear two different bulls in the state land east of the boundary line. I bugled back, and was thrilled to get a response. We drove down a road on the north side of the woods they were in about ¾ of a mile and stopped at what the locals call the ‘gravel pit.’ I turned the truck around and listened.

I heard a bugle about a half mile in, and I responded. What happened next was one of the most thrilling things I have experienced in my years of hunting. Not more than 200 yards in, a bull thundered a screaming response. This was followed by what sounded like him taking out a good deal of aggression on a tree. We got in the truck and got the heck out of there. I did not want us fouling up anything, and there was no point in having him come out to the road and having us spook him.

By this time, it was nearly dark and night was falling quickly. We drove out to the boundary road and parked on the very south eastern part of the hunt zone. We could hear five different bulls bugling in the still evening air. There was no need for me to even bugle anymore, these animals were doing enough talking for me to get a good idea of where they were. One bull in particular had a very distinctive bugle, and I took him to be the herd bull. He would bugle very loudly, and then chop off the note abruptly at the end. This sounded like the equivalent of an exclamation point, and he was not to be trifled with. We could hear intermittent cow chirps and mews in his proximity. The other bulls kept their distance from this one, and they had the distinctive trilling notes at the end of their bugles. As the herd bull began to slowly move out into the soybeans, I was nearly overcome with excitement. I decided to call fellow Fishing Minnesota moderator Chuck and give him a birthday present. How often is it you can get a phone call and hear live, bugling elk?

We went back to the camper, ate dinner, and then I tried to sleep. It was not at all easy after that magnificent performance.

We got up early on Friday morning, and headed back to see if the elk were still singing. They did not disappoint.

The animals were back into the timber, but were still bugling actively. Mr. Herd Bull was still at it, and was slowly moving toward a line of taller aspen trees. The other bulls were still screaming back, but keeping a respectable distance. As the sun came up, the bugling dwindled to nearly nothing. It sounded like the big boy was bedded down, about a half mile in from the soybeans in the taller trees.

We drove around looking for sign in other parts of the zone, but found nothing fresh. I looked like I was going to have to try and pull a satellite bull into the hunt zone with calling.

We were due at the Thief Lake DNR headquarters that afternoon for the mandatory orientation session. They put on an excellent presentation and that answered most of the remaining questions I had. I was given a large syringe to collect blood with, and they listed the organ parts they would like to have for research should I be successful. They provided me with a good idea of where elk had been sighted and harvested in prior years.

We finished up the evening by going back to listen to the bugling performance. The bugling was not nearly as active, as it had become very warm that afternoon.

We went back to the camper, and gobbled up the pork roast and veggies that had been cooking in the Dutch oven while we were gone.

That night, sleep was most difficult.

The alarm clock on my phone jarred me awake at 4:30 am, I ate a couple pieces of toast and we headed out. The hunt was finally on!

We set up just inside the boundary in an area that had been logged, but had quite a bit of new growth. The bugling was almost non existent. I did hear the herd bull a couple times as he was following his pattern of moving back off the soybeans and into the timber. A couple of other satellites were singing, but nothing was responding to my cow calling or bugling. The elk were in quite a bit father in the timber it seemed. We hiked around the state land in the vicinity, looking for sign. A few small rubs and some older tracks were all we found.

I made a mental note that I was walking through a lot of poison ivy. The understory of the forest was very wet with heavy dew. I was careful not to touch my pants. I catch poison ivy easily, and did not want to deal with the weeping blisters it causes if I could help it.

After breakfast, we checked out the private and public lands on the west side of CR#54, where the elk rutting has traditionally taken place. Again, there was no fresh sign to speak of in that area.

Evening found us back in the same spot we had started to hunt that morning. The bugling had pretty much ceased. And so ended the first day of the hunt.

Sleep was much easier that night after a good dinner.

We were back out in the same spot Sunday morning, and the elk were mute. This was most puzzling. Had they moved? Had they been spooked? It was almost as if they had vanished. I cased up the gun, and decided to check the edges of the timber they had been in outside the hunt boundary. There were fresh tracks going into the soybeans, and back out again. This was my first look at where they had been doing their feeding. It looked like a cattle feed lot with all the tracks. With the warm weather and full moon, they were doing all their activity under the cover of darkness.

We spent the afternoon looking for sign elsewhere, and found none. The evening session was spent along the east boundary again, and this time there was no bugling at all.

When we got back to the camper, I took a much needed shower. I had some discomfort around my boot tops later in the day that I had chalked up to sweat and friction from all the walking. Much to my dismay, I had poison ivy blisters around my shins. The oil from the plants must have penetrated my jeans and hit the skin. Luckily, it was no where else on me.

Monday morning came, and we were out much earlier listening for bugling near the east boundary. I could hear the heard bull in the same area where he had been bedding with the cows again. He was the only one making any noise at all, and was mute after 6am.

We drove around some other areas, and I bugled every ¼ to ½ mile, trying to locate some other bulls that I could go in after. Nothing responded.

I packed the rifle away and went for a hike with the video and still cameras into the area where the elk were hanging outside of the hunt zone. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about in there

.

I walked into the gravel pit area and found multiple rubs where I had heard the close bull on Thursday evening.

They had really been tearing it up. I found this track, among many others. For scale, that is a .338 case next to the print. The pictures do not come close to doing justice to the heavy activity taking place.

A little farther to the east, I found several wallows, rubs, and beds near some smaller food plots that had been established by the DNR in prior years. There was a lot of nice green food for them with the abundant rains that had fallen. As we were walking back out, I caught a glimpse of brown, and then two cows and a calf crossed in front of us. I fat fingered the pause button on the video camera and got no footage. Doh! Those animals circled behind us, got down wind, and very quietly moved off. They were acting just like whitetails. I was used to elk crashing off loudly like the Colorado animals I was used to hunting. These did not do that at all.

We went over to the soybean field where they had been feeding, and I investigated the trail system leading into the public land. It looked like cattle trails in there, again with multiple rubs, wallows, and trashed bushes. I could have run a shopping cart down these trails in spots. The elk had been here for some time it appeared. Great cover and good eats, what’s not to like? I realized this was going to be tall order to catch a bull inside the hunt zone.

We ate a late breakfast, and then headed to the area west of CR54 to check to see if any elk had moved into that area. Yahoo! There was one big fresh track along a gravel road on the north side. It was time to see some new territory. I walked from the southeast corner on the S- curves on CR#54 all the way to northwest side. This is probably a bit more than two miles north to south, but I walked much more than that deviating around swampy grounds. I found no fresh sign, but felt much better about doing a good through reconnaissance of the area where elk have been killed in prior years.

Man, was I tired! My shins were on fire from poison ivy, and my main boots were soaked through from a couple of wet spots I had stepped in. It was time to go collapse in the camper. A beer and a ham dinner put me out like a light.

Tuesday was much the same. Some very intermittent bugling by the herd bull outside the zone, and then silence well before light. I went over to the area west of CR54 and waited for dawn, hoping to catch a bull transiting where I had seen animals on my first scouting trip. The moon was so bright I could see clearly nearly half hour before legal shooting light. No elk showed themselves.

The forecast for Wednesday and Thursday called for temperatures in the 80’s. The combining crew was getting ready to harvest the beans on the eastern boundary. My shins were still weeping and very sore from the poison ivy, and I now had a pretty good blister on one heel.

I decided to go home for a couple of days during the hot weather and heal up while the harvest started. Wednesday was my daughter’s first day of pre-school, and I wanted to be home for that. I got some much needed rest, and then headed back to hunt again on Friday.

To be continued….stay tuned for the finale!

[Wayne Sieber]

Dang Dang Dang!!! Now I am not going to be able to sleep tonight!!! Great story!!

[marine_man]

Great story Gissert.... sure wish you wouldn't hold out on us...

marine_man

[Nova]

Gissert, I am coming through Underwood on my way to the cabin tonight. If I buy you a beer at the VF will you finish the story?

[PRFISHER]

Killing me, spill the beans...

[Gissert]

VF? What's that?

I am actually in the cities right now, but I would not refuse a beer!

I will try and have the foruth and final episode up tomorrow.

[PRFISHER]

He said VF but I'm pretty sure he meant the Legion

"Home of the famous Peterwich"

[Nova]

sorry, I don't look at the name on the outside just what's in my glass. I did mean the legion.

[Nova]

I'll be up there tomorrow...that means I won't know til monday.................I will have forgotten the rest of the story by then.

[captkev]

Gis, I've copyed the first three pages just so I can read them again at work What a great story, I cant wait for page 4. I allmost called in sick to work when I herd mention of beer and hunting stories.

I to suffer badly from Poison Ivy,Oak, and Sumack, I can catch it if I'm down wind of a patch, oil gets on airborne micros, and presto I've got it... about ten years ago I figured out a way to kill the stuff. First take a great big swig of Crown, then scratch the heck out of it,(NO IT WON'T SPREAD) Then apply strait bleach/clorox lemon is my favorite. It will sting like hell, but it will dry it right up. I used to get it so bad I could'nt get my boots on. not anymore, Oh and then have another swig of Crown. I'm looking forward to page four.

[ChuckN]

Excellent reading Gissert, can't wait for the grand finale.

I did enjoy that bugling gift that night. Intense!

[Gissert]

Ah, the Peterwich, or as ChuckN calls them, the Peterbuilt.

I have a RMEF Meeting tomorrow night, and might have to go in for a drink when I am done.