'08 Public Land DIY elk hunt- story with pictures

[Jim Uran]

dammmmm good story, can't wait for the outcome!!!!!!!!!!

[mrklean]

Its just like a tv show right when the show gets even better the end comes and you have to wait for a week to see the rest, in our case its only a day

[Jig4All]

This is a sweet read. Should be made into an article for a magazine or a miniseries.

[MUSKYMAN1011]

Did swen, leana & ole shoot bulls or Cows?

[Scoot]

MuskyMan, we all had "any elk" tags- we could shoot any bull, cow, or even a calf. However, you'll have to keep reading to find out what we shot, if anything...

[MUSKYMAN1011]

I hope you shoot a big one !

BEST OF LUCK!

[Coach1310]

Another great chapter!! Looking forward to tomorrow!

[DonBo]

The snake is a creepy one...didn't know there were any other kinds.

Good read so far. Looking fwd. to the blood trail!

[fishinmajishin]

Another great chapter.

Your pics of your party were just as I imagined.

Scoot, my father grew up in Hillsboro in the 40'-50's. Still has a brother there. Mother, too!

[WalleyeGod]

Western Garter Snake is my guess.

Great story BTW.

WG

[Scoot]

Regarding the snake, I honestly don't know what kind it is. I asked, not trying to keep the answer from you, just wondering if anyone can tell me what it's called. I think Donbo's right- creepy about covers all of them.

fishin', small world!

[Scoot]

Day 5

In the morning we all loaded up with frame packs and gear to take care of a downed elk, then headed to the self-pity wallow where Slevy had hit the elk. When we got there, things looked to me just like they’d been described- it was a blood trail even I could follow, and that takes a pretty nice blood trail! We followed the trail for about 120 yards or so, then found three very large pools of blood- each was about 2 feet in diameter and all three had lots of bubbles in them, indicating a lung hit. Things looked good. While we had followed the first 120 yards of the trail in about two minutes, the next 50 yards took us approximately an hour. It was incredible, after those three big spots, the dang thing just seemed to almost quit bleeding. We tracked it another 50 yards, then lost the blood completely. Back and forth we’d go looking for the next spot of blood, but to no avail. After the trail had completely evaded us, we did a systematic search for about 4 hours- we spread out 30 or so yards from each other and walked back and forth about ½ mile on each side of the last spot of blood, each pass covering higher or lower ground on the sharp breaking mountainside. Nothing. Slevy finally called off the search, thanking each of us for our efforts and feeling terrible for the loss of the animal. We all felt terrible.

Here are a few pics of the mountain in the area where we were in making pass after pass, looking for the elk. Obviously, it was tough and rugged dark timber with tons of places for a dead elk to be. Who knows, we may have walked right past it.

FYI- I know telling this part of the story may set us up for getting flamed for hitting and not successfully taking an animal. We certainly don’t want to be the “idiots from MN or ND” who the residents of the West get frustrated with for this sort of thing. But, I’m telling it here because it happened, it can happen to anyone, and it was part of our experience. Almost anyone who’s hunted for a long time has lost an animal and can relate to this. As a group, we’ve had excellent success regarding recovery rate, but this one just didn’t happen. I was proud of the effort we put in trying to recover the animal and I was in agreement that it was time to “pull the plug” when we did. In the end, we made one final sweep on the line the bull was last traveling and headed back towards camp for a rest.

After some lunch and a little shooting at camp, we again split up. Despite all the comotion of the morning search near “self-pity”, Rod and Slevy were convinced another bull would come into that wallow. Also, 95% of the walking we’d done in the morning was well above the wallow, since the bull went straight uphill for the first 150 yards or so, and all of the bulls seemed to be accessing the wallow from below. Jon and I went “way down” to the NW of camp again.

After glassing for a while and seeing nothing, we moved to the West, again along the property line between private and public land. We stopped in a perfect looking park and did a blind set- nothing. We headed West out of the park, but stayed just in the timber along the edge of it. Just when we got to the far West end of the park, Jon stopped and looked back at me so we could formulate some sort of more specific plan. As we were taking, something caught my eye just over the top of his head- I’d seen a glint of light, then some movement. I focused past the leaves that were immediately behind Jon and saw one stud of a bull! He was a solid 340+ 6 x 6 and not far away- maybe 60 yards. I knocked an arrow and pulled out my range finder- 55 yards. Although the bull was in the relative open, I was blocked by some of the pines and junipers that were close to me. I slowly shuffled left and found a spot where I would have a more open shot. I ranged him and he was exactly 60 yards. Sixty yards may seem like a long shot, but it’s exactly the distance I had decided I’d shoot out to. I’ve got a sliding sight on my bow and I can very reliably shoot inside of a volleyball at 60 yards. I felt good about the situation- I slid my sight to 60 and drew. I settled the pin just on the back edge of his shoulder, leveled my level in my sight, relaxed… but I suddenly noticed a branch five yards in front of me that I was afraid I’d hit. I tried to kneel, but there was a lower branch that was then in the way. I stood half-way back up and tried to steady myself with knees half-bent. There, I found an opening I knew I could fit my arrow easily though. This whole process took about three seconds, but seemed like it was in slow motion. While I was doing the equivalent of jumping jacks, trying to find an opening, the bull had spotted movement. Now, I was standing with half-bent knees and with an alerted bull staring right at me from 60 yards. Finally, I settled my pin back behind his shoulder. I noticed the bend in my knees, a lot more waver in my pin, and I tried to calm and steady myself for the shot. I still thought I could send my arrow towards the point I wanted to, but I was really afraid the bull would jump the string- he was staring right at me and fully aware something wasn't right. At 60 yards with an alert bull, I was afraid I’d hit the bull poorly. I slowly let my draw down and let the stud 6 x 6 walk. Uuuuuuuggggghhhhh… that was so tough to do. Here’s a picture of me that Jon took after the encounter.

After that, Jon and I got one more bulge response. We ended up dogging the bull for almost a mile, but he was gaining ground and didn’t seem to want to play with us. One interesting interaction that occurred during that call and chase session happened when Jon was running down a trail in front of me (it was his turn to be the shooter, so he was in front). While he trotted along in front of me, he suddenly snapped his head down to his right and started back/side-stepping around a bush. His eyes were nearly popping out of his head! I knew instantly what had happened, but listened to Jon tell about how he’d seen movement a few feet ahead of his quick steps and noticed a rattle snake on the path. Fortunately, the snake slithered into the bush along the trail and left Jon alone. One thing about Jon, he definitely seems to hang out with snakes!

We made the long trek back to camp, but stopped to admire the moon as we got near camp.

When we got to camp, we found Rod and Slevy already there. They had one whale of a story to share with us… They’d gotten down to the wallow at almost 1:00. After they waited a whole 30 minutes (what patience they have!), the action started. Rod was the shooter and he was ready. Two elk came in- a cow and a bull, with the bull about 50 or so yards behind the cow. The cow came right into the wallow area, but the bull was reluctant to follow- he was an old, wily bull who’d been around a while. Although neither Rod or Slevy were certain, he was either a monster 6 x 6 or a very nice 7 x 7. Any way you slice it, he was a shooter bull by nearly anyone’s standards. The cow showed no reservations, and she walked right in to about 5 yards from the boys! The bull started to close the distance and was following his gal, just like he was supposed to. However, as is often the case in that darn country, one little swirl of the wind resulted in the cow getting a whiff of the fellas at the wallow (of course, the fact that she was a mere dozen or so feet away at that point didn’t help matters). She probably didn’t get a good whiff, but it was enough to get her to act a little weird, bobbing her head, and taking a couple of awkward steps away from the wallow. The bull picked up on this immediately and got nervous. He made a line for a route away from the wallow. However, he crossed an opening at a fast walk and Rod let ‘er rip! The arrow sailed perfectly towards the sweet spot in the elk’s ribcage. It would have smacked those ribs too, if it hadn’t been for a small stick, about the diameter of a nickel, that was positioned a few feet short of the bull. The arrow hit the stick and angled sharply downward. It caught a tuft of hair on the back of the bull’s front leg, but nothing more. The arrow had literally nicked some fur, but that was it. Fortunately, the boys had brought down the video camera and the whole thing was on tape! They watched it over and over and it pretty clearly showed that it was just the slightest of touches to his leg and the bull would be fine. Rod recovered his arrow- there were a couple hairs on it and no blood. There also wasn’t a single drop of blood on the trail.

While the boys talked about what had just unfolded, they repositioned themselves with Slevy as the shooter. The woods had just quieted down when another bull came strolling in to the wallow. They’d literally just waited 15 minutes since the last bull had left! This guy was a 5 x 5 and he came in fast. However, he hung up at about 30 yards, with no easy shot presenting itself. Soon, the bull worked his way across the sidehill and Slevy had an open shot. Also, the bull was right next to a tree he’d ranged earlier- he remembered the tree was 30 yards. He drew back and let the arrow go. It looked perfect, heading just behind the crease of the shoulder and ribs. Then… the arrow fell harmlessly to the earth, just under the bull. What?!? “What just happened?”, screamed through Slevy’s head. The elk had no idea what’d just happened, but he knew something was terribly wrong. He boogied out of there before Slevy could even reach for another arrow. Slevy looked carefully at his bow, everything was perfect. He looked at the spot the elk stood- he’s right by the “30 yard tree”. Then, in the foreground of Slevy’s view he saw a second “30 yard tree”. What he hadn’t seen when he was ranging the small juniper at 30 yards was that there was one just behind it at 48 yards that looked nearly identical. The bull was standing by the “wrong 30 yard tree”! Grrrrrrrrrrrrr………. Slevy was miffed, to say the least! It was a bad luck deal and again, fortune refused to smile on us. So close, but no meat to pack out and nothing to fill our freezers.

But… it was early (remember, I said they had a whale of a story). Each of the boys had missed due to an unfortunate set of circumstances, but it was again Rod’s turn and they were apparently in one serious hotbed of bull activity. This time it took serious patience from what that’d grown used to that day- the poor guys had to wait for nearly 45 minutes before another bull came in! This one didn’t just wander in though, Slevy had bugled him in from a long ways away. Slevy would fire off a bugle and this dude would rip one right back, at first from 1000 or more yards. This game continued for a while, with the bull bugling back and sounding worked up, but not coming closer. After ten minutes of this though, the bull got closer with each successive bugle- 800 yards, 600, 400, 200… he was comin’! Slevy fired off one last bugle and the bull fired back from about 100 yards. Seconds later they spotted him- he was a nice looking 6 x 6. His rack had long fronts, he was nice, and at that point there was no doubt he was a shooter. He turned broadside at 48 yards and Rod had a wide open shot. Slevy softly whispered “just be patient, he’ll come closer”. Rod’s response was unspoken, but clearly, “No way!”. Most here don’t know Rod, but he’s a phenomenal shooter- he wins virtually every shoot he enters and went over two years of league without dropping a single X in competition. He's shot 300 60X's in multiple competitions. The dude can flat out shoot and he had a bull broadside and unaware, at a range he felt totally comfortable at. He drew, settled the pin a little higher than usual (it was a pretty steep downhill shot and he wanted it to enter high and exit low), and let the arrow go. They not only watched the arrow bury right where it should, they got it on camera! The bull tore off down the hill and sounded like he plowed over and through every tree within 150 yards. On the video we watched at camp it literally sounds like a steam engine barrelling donw the hill! Rod and Slevy said it was clearly a “death run”. They gave him an hour and got on his trail. It didn’t take long- they found him 150 yards straight down the hill, all piled up in the dark timber. Yes!!! Rod and Slevy quartered his bull, cut the horns off, boned out one shoulder, and hauled out what they could. By the time they got back to camp that night it was getting late- too late to finish up with any light. So, they decided to get what was left in the morning. It’d be a 1 ½ mile haul up the hellishly steep dark timber I showed in a picture earlier, but it’d be the best kind of climb.

Oh, BTW, this was a time when an unfortunate thing happened- Rod busted out his camera where his bull went down only to find that the battery was stone dead. Slevy didn’t bring his because he knew Rod had one. Major bummer!!! So, despite our best efforts, we don’t have any pictures of Rod and his bull at the location where it went down. Here’s a nice shot of Rod when he got back to camp.

We don’t drink much in hunting camp- maybe a beer or two at night, but that's typically about it. We go to hunt, not party. That night, though, we broke out a celebratory shot (or two) in honor of Rod’s bull. It was great! I shook my brother’s hand and honestly choked up a little bit- I was so happy for him. Everyone was happy for Rod, and Jon and I were envious that we’d missed out on the crazy action at the wallow!

The end of the trip was starting to come into view. I couldn’t help but continue to think about the bull Jon and I had botched that first night near camp. Jon dwelled on the 5 point he’d passed up the next morning. Slevy was still upset about the bull he’d lost. However, in spite of those thoughts we relished the success Rod had that day and really all felt as if the Team had been successful. It was great!

A little side note: at this point in the trip our feet, especially our heels, were taking a serious beating. I’ve got bone spurs on my heels, so they were really taking a whoopin’. Each night at camp I’d have to remove a blood soaked sock and wash off all the blood from my heels. Here’s a picture of my heel after I cleaned it up really good one night.

But it wasn’t just me- we all had sore feet and legs and most of us had multiple hot spots on our feet. Each morning included the taping-of-the-feet ritual, where we’d do our best to prevent any further damage by covering all of the tender spots with medical or athletic tape. Most of us were using many feet of tape per foot by this time in the trip. Also, even though we were making use of a spike camp, we were getting pretty dang stinky by this point in the trip too. We could wash up a little each night at camp, but we’d all pretty much run out of clean camo and we were recycling sweaty clothes. One final related note, this was the day that some major chafing set in for at least a couple of us. I don’t think I need to comment on that any further…

A final pic showing the highlight of the day!

[DonBo]

WOW! What a day...can't wait till tomorrow.

[FishGUY]

Scoot

Great story, thanks for sharing it with us.

[bmc]

Great story Scoot, keep it coming!!!!!!!

Brian

[Coach1310]

Awesome story!! Can I stow away in a cooler next year and come along???

Can't wait til tomorrow. Thanks again for taking the time to share.

[Scoot]

Day 6

We spent a good part of the next morning boning and packing out Rod’s elk. We experienced a burn in our legs on the climb back that was incredible! But… the pack out want remarkably well. The first 1/2 - 3/4 mile was though the nasty dark and fallen timber I showed in the last post. We took our time, as we weren’t in a hurry, and took lots of stops. Up to this point Jon had been running everyone ragged up and down that mountain. However, Jon had the heaviest pack on this climb out and it really did a nice job to serve as an equalizer for the rest of us after that! I didn’t realize how heavy Jon’s pack was or I’d have taken some of it from him. However, the side effect of slowing him down a little after that was certainly welcome!!! Sorry Jon, but prior to that you were an absolute machine, after that, I was happy you couldn’t shift into 5th gear anymore!

After we got back to camp it was late morning. There was a bedding area with a nearby wallow not too far from camp that I thought might be good to check out while Rod boned out his elk. Jon and I headed towards that wallow and Slevy had stayed at the self-pity wallow for a while. Jon and I did a blind set a couple hundred yards North of the wallow. I did some soft cow calling, but dropped a few slightly whiney, somewhat pre-estrus mews in there too. We waited for what seemed like an eternity, which was probably close to ten minutes. I then walked up to Jon to talk about our next plan. When I got up to him and asked him what the plan was, a bull busted through the dark timber away from us. Grrrrrrrrrrrr…….. He’d come in completely silent and we hadn’t been patient enough. When he took off he was a mere 50 yards from us! If we’d just been a little more patient, I have no doubt Jon would have shot that bull. The wind was perfect, the bull seemed to be headed to the perfect spot for where Jon was set up, and I was in a great spot to see and call from. We couldn’t buy a break!

Next Jon and I plodded around looking for the wallow. It was in a slightly different location according to each of our GPSs, but after walking past it on the East side, we came back to it and found it. We got in a good spot with regard to the wind and set up. Jon was the shooter and I was the photographer/caller. Here’s a picture of the wallow from the view of our crude, makeshift little blind.

After nearly an hour of nothingness, WADD (Western Attention Deficit Disorder- I can’t sit still when I’m hunting out West) got the best of me. I asked Jon if he wanted me to rip off a bugle and he said, “Sure”. I shot out a pretty non-threatening, run of the mill locator bugle. The call had no sooner left the bugle when I call back came about 250 yards away, up the mountain from us. After a minute I called back only to hear a return call from 100 yards away! The bull was hot and ticked off! He came in grunting and growling and we even heard him glunk a few times. He fired a bugle back, but hung up at about 80 yards. Quickly, his next bugle came from 150 yards… he was moving away as soon as he’d come in. We quickly moved to action- we ran after him, being sure to go around the North side of the wallow, so the wind would be in our favor. We closed the distance and fired off another bugle. The bull screamed back and was about 150 yards from us again. We repeated this and now he wasn’t more than 100 yards away, although we couldn’t see him because of the dense timber. Regardless of visuals, we were closing in on him and he was coming towards us. We moved a little closer and I’m convinced we were about to seal the deal, when that stinkin’ fickle wind smacked me in the back of the neck. It turned 180 degrees on us and was now blowing right at the bull. We tried to take quick action and scream at him immediately, hoping to beat the wind with a quick call and response from him. However, the jig was up and he never responded to another bugle. Have I mentioned “Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr………” yet??? We talked about it and what we think happened near the wallow is that he was coming right in when he crossed the path we’d walked when we hadn’t found the wallow immediately. That’s almost exactly where he’d turned tail and headed the other direction. If it wasn’t for bad luck, Jon and I wouldn’t have had any luck at all to that point! I’ll admit, we were getting somewhat frustrated, but we continued to have the time of our lives.

We went back to camp and ate some lunch. Jon and Rod decided to head to the wallow while Slevy and I decided to go “way down” again. Slevy and I had a busy evening together. Once we walked most of the way to “way down”, we got on a hot bull, but couldn’t close the distance.

Next, we walked right up on a nice 5 point, which was right behind a juniper bush in a relatively open park. We walked to within 30 yards of him before he saw us and we saw him. Unfortunately, these two things happened at the exact same time and he was gone in a blink.

Later, I fired off a locator bugle. We got a response from about 800 yards away, from an area that was over a rise where we couldn’t see. We scurried up a couple hundred yards ahead and climbed a small rocky area that gave us a better vantage point. I fired off another locator bugle, hoping to better pinpoint the bull that’d responded, now that we could see the country better. Suddenly, Slevy said, “Scoot, get down… he’s right there.” I ducked down and tried to knock an arrow. A completely different bull than had responded before had come charging out of his hidey hole to check us out. However, he didn’t go far before he crossed our wind and the it was over before it started- he turned 90 degrees and was gone before I ever even saw him. Her's a pictue I took of Slevy, not long after that encounter.

An hour later Slevy and I got on two bulls that were running together- one was an “unknown” bull and the other was a nice 6 x 6. Slevy got to within 80 yards of the nice 6. I, however, was behind him calling to the unknown bull, which was 100 yards behind the 6. I couldn’t see what was happening with Slevy, but I knew the unknown bull had hung up 100 – 150 yards out. Being the genius I am, I tried a “threat sequence” by imitating a pre-estrus cow that wants to go to the other bull (i.e., the one you’re hunting), but a spike bull is keeping her hooked out away from the other bull. The idea is the bull you’re hunting will take the stance of, “No way a little ‘ol spike is going to get that hot cow, I have to do something about this!) However, the nice 6 point heard this and promptly turned around and trotted off. I unknowingly had ruined Slevy’s stalk on the nice 6 x 6. I had no way of knowing what was happening, but I felt bad it’d worked out the way it did.

We noticed two things on this day: 1) the aspens really started to turn color, and 2) the bulls seemed to be more serious in their responses to our calls. Maybe things were making a change in our favor...

Jon and Rod got shut out at the wallow that afternoon/evening. Except for one thing, five minutes after they left a bull bugled from just below the wallow. Jon hustled back to the wallow, but never did see the bull. Jon said the wind was marginal at that point and he may have been smelled. Who knows… but no bull showed itself there. They left the wallow with some light left, hoping to stumble into a bull on the way back. Here's a pic Rod took of Jon on the walk back.

Day 6 was in the books. Rod was tagged out. Slevy had opportunities, but not been able to fill his tag. Jon had passed up a decent 5 point and joined me in the debacle near camp the first night. Besides messing up the bull the first night, I had drawn on a nice bull, but couldn't find a shot I felt comfortable with. The three of us had all come very close, but still had our tags in hand. Our time was starting to run a little short. Jon and I had talked about the likelihood of us all tagging out at this point. Jon said there's no way it could happen, simply due to the logistics of packing meat out. I remained slightly optimistic, thinking that maybe two of us could take a bull on the same day. I knew it wasn't realistic, but I remained hopeful...

[Coach1310]

Another good Chapter Scoot!! Thanks again for sharing. How many more chapters do you have?

[Scoot]

Thanks Coach. Tomorrow's report will be on the second-to-the-last day of the hunt. Only a couple more days left...

[Shack]

Thanks Scoot for doing this the way you are.

It makes it more fun

Great story so far also!

Thanks for sharing.

[spivak]

Great reports. I looked in my western reptile field guide and it is some sort of western species of garter snake. I looked a bit online and it sounds like there are many confusing varieties of Checkered, Blackheaded, and Wandering garter snakes. Looked closest to the Checkered in my book but their range is a little south of you. Harmless--drawn to wet areas.

[Scoot]

Thanks for the kind words, fellas- I appreciate it.

spivak- cool! Thanks for digging up that info. I had no idea what the heck that slinky critter was!

[youngie22]

Awesome trip; love reading your story. I hope to make it out there one of these years. can;t wait to hear how it ends.

[Scoot]

Day 7 (second to the last day)

The plan for Day 7 was for Rod and Slevy to head straight West of camp, past where Jon had passed on the five point on the second morning of the trip. Jon and I headed back to the wallow South of camp to start the day. Before we got there, we got a response to a locator bugle closer to camp. However, that bull vanished on us and we never heard him again. The wallow and the area around it was a complete bust for us that morning- we saw only a couple mule deer. Here’s a pic of a mulie doe we saw.

We decided to head back “way down” and sit wallows- I’d sit the wallow that was “way, way down” and Jon would sit on the wallow he’d shot his bull on last year, or one very near it. We spent several hours there, but it was remarkably quiet. I saw a 5 point cruising through the woods 70-80 yards from me at about 12:30, but he wasn’t headed my way and I couldn’t coax him closer with cow calls. Soon I noticed some nasty looking clouds to the SW of us. There was some lightening and it looked like it might rain hard on us. Since we were a long ways from camp, we decided to hunt back closer to camp in case the skies “opened up” us.

A side note- On the way back to camp, I stumbled into the rack of a nice bull when we were walking out of a little park. The bull looked to have been dead for a couple months, but his antlers were in good shape, minus some mice chewing on the 5th and 6th points on one side. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to take it or not, so I left it. Later that night, I asked a local fella at the trailhead about it- he said I could only take it if I had permission from a WY Game and Fish rep. He gave me the phone number of a guy and I called and left a message, explaining where the bull was, that it was on public land, where we were camping at, etc. I asked if I could take the bull or not and if I’d have to tag it if I was allowed to take it. I didn’t know if I’d hear back, but after dinner I tried to call home and found a return message on my phone. The gentleman returned my call and gave me permission to take the rack. Cool!

At about 4:00 we got pretty close to camp and it looked like it’d really start to rain hard soon. Also, several lightening strikes had hit the mountain not too far from us and started small fires. Here’s a couple shots of the results of these lightening strikes.

With the dark timber in the area serving as a giant tinder box, we didn’t want to be far from the (illusion of the) safety of the trucks. So we headed right into camp for a while. When we got there we found Rod and Slevy at camp. We figured they’d been scared back to camp by the storm too. However, once we got there Slevy had a great surprise for us- he busted out the rack of the bull he’d taken late that morning! Awesome! Although Jon and I were tired, sore, and even a little bit jealous, we were happy as could be for Slevy. He’d stuck with it and gotten redemption! We settled in for some grub and listened to the story of how Slevy got his bull.

Mid-morning found Rod and Slevy in the general area we call “Moon Pie Flats”. Moon Pie Flats is a bench near the top of a peak that has the Rocky Mountain version of crop circles- large circles (five to 20 feet in diameter) that are cut down 6 – 12 inches into the rocks. We have no idea what the heck they are… Once past there, they glassed an area that looked like it “should” hold a bull. Soon, Slevy spotted one. However, after trying to get on it, they lost sight of it. They got to the spot they’d last seen it and figured it had to have taken one of two paths- one went up, one went down. They chose up. After a while, the trail split- one went left, one went right. They went right. 100 yards later, they crested over the top of a rock only to find a bull immediately below them! This was exactly the stroke of luck they needed! The bull was a 4 x 5, and given that it was the second-to-the-last day of the hunt, there was no doubt he was a shooter. Slevy quickly knocked an arrow, Rod ranged the slightly quartering away bull at 48 yards (compensating for any elevation drop), Slevy drew, settled his pin in on a tuft of hair, and released the arrow. Slevy didn’t see his arrow hit the bull, but he heard it hit rock- not exactly what he was hoping to see and hear. The bull bucked and took off like a bat outta you-know-where. Slevy said out loud, “Are you kiddin’ me? I missed.” They watched the bull run off 100 yards away. He then stopped, looked back at the area he’d just left, and stood there for a second. “Slevy asked Rod, “How’d I miss?” When suddenly, the bull wiggled, his back end wobbled, and dropped! Slevy hadn’t missed at all- in fact, his shot was absolutely perfect and Slevy heard his arrow hit rock after the pass-through. They boys went over to bull, busted out Slevy’s camera and discovered that the camera’s on/off switch had been bumped. Sadly, Slevy’s camera was just as stone dead as Rod’s was at his bull. Unbelievable! So… sorry, but we have no in-the-field pictures of Slevy with his bull either. Bummer. However, here’s a shot of Slevy at camp with his bull.

Rod and Slevy boned out the elk in the field and made two very long trips getting it back to camp. I think it was at that point that Rod started to realize that shooting the first bull of the trip essentially makes you a pack mule for the rest of the trip! He had become our “callin’ and haulin’” boy. After two trips on his bull and two trips on Slevy’s bull, he was one whipped pup! Not a word of whining or complaining came from him, or anyone else though. That’s one great thing about this group- nobody felt sorry for themselves during the trip, everyone had fun, and nobody complained. You gotta love it!

One day left. Rod and Slevy were tagged out. Jon and I had come sooo close, but couldn’t seal the deal. We were happy as could be for Rod and Slevy, but Jon and I wanted to fill our tags and we were keenly aware that was very unlikely at this point. I was of two minds at that point: on one hand, I couldn’t help but think 2/4 was pretty dang good, but on the other hand I couldn’t help but want to fill my tag. I felt that Jon and I would have to get it done in the AM tomorrow, or the odds would catch up with us and we’d eat tag soup. Still, I kept reminding myself that 2/4 was great and that we’d all played a major role in filling the two tags we’d made good on. I conceded that regardless of the happenings of tomorrow, the trip was a major success and we’d all had a blast. With that in mind, maybe tag soup wouldn’t taste so bad…

[Coach1310]

Another great chapter Scoot! What a bummer that everyone seems to be having camera trouble. You are missing out at pictures you will look at for a lifetime. The memories are twice as good though! Can't wait for the final chapter. Thanks again for sharing.