The Elk Hunt

It was a dark and stormy night. Thunder cracked, and lightening flashed all around us....oops, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start again: It was the best of hunts, it was the worst of hunts....

I've been putting in for a bull elk permit for the last four years trying to draw a license for a specific area that I wanted to hunt. I've been seeing lots of bull elk in this area in past seasons and coupled with the fact that I've never harvested a bull with a muzzleloader rifle I was really excited when I finally got drawn this year. Long story short, with three people hunting this promised land for three days and not even seeing or hearing a single animal I was pretty discouraged. In contrast to last year when we hunted deer here, not a single bull was bugling and it almost seemed like aliens had beamed all the elk out of the area. This was the first time I've been in the area and not seen and heard lots of animals. Comparing notes with some other hunters it was apparent that our experience was not unique. Nobody else was seeing anything either.

Well it was time for a change of venue so we loaded up the gear and moved locations. I detoured back to Pauls cabin to get the ATV and Steve spent the night with some other friends. Steve managed to bag a deer that evening and then the next day Steve and I reconnected at the backup area. Weather was moving in.

Steve and I hiked into a nearby area for a evening hunt as a few drops of rain began to fall. I found a bit of cover to sit in while I called. After about an hour I glanced over my right shoulder to see a bull elk break cover 150 yards down the clearing and wander out into the meadow. At first I though he was going to walk right to me, but quickly he changed his mind and began to trot across the meadow straight away from me. I quickly blew a squeal meant to simulate a challenge from a small bull. As luck would have it he stopped, turned and began coming right to me once again. I had repositioned with the rifle over a fallen log and waited motionless as he slowly walked into shooting range. Finally at about 50 yards he stopped and began to smell the air. It was now or never so I pulled the trigger and scored myself a really nice elk.

OK back to the intro... The rain, which until now had been minimal, now broke full force and, as Steve walked up from his hunting position to give me a hand, the lighting moved in. It really only took us about an hour to get the quarters off the animal but the light was fading and we and all our gear were soaked to the bone. The lightening was hitting scarily close and here we were completely exposed in the open meadow. By the time we got back to camp it was almost completely dark. The meat would have to wait til the morning to get hauled.

Next morning I took a one wheeled cart supplied by another friend hunting in the vicinity into to pick up the rest of the meat. Steve was already in the field hunting the same place so the plan was to meet up about 9:00am. Wheeling it down the trail I was reminded of a scene from Monty Pythons Spam-a-Lot where the guy is picking up plague victims in the street. As I approached the meadow I began to call, "Bring out your dead." Not funny? Well I guess you had to be there. I guess the cart was somewhat easier than hauling it on your back but getting the 300 pound payload over all the dead logs in the path was a real chore.

Well that was about it. We did beat the bushes for another three days but couldn't get Steve into any animals until the last day. He did finally run into a small group of animals but couldn't get a shot. That's why they call it hunting...nothing is guaranteed and the only elk I saw this year is now chilling in my freezer.