10-15-2009, 05:12 AM
I went with my bro-in-law to go spike elk hunting, I've never been hunting for a bull elk so I was excited. Opening morning we (about ten of us) saw three spikes and a big bull. I crouched down slowly and lifted my binos' spotting the big bull immediately and trying to verify the spikes. The next thing I know all hell broke loose...it was like the battle of Gettysburg. My buddy and I went the other direction in fear of a stray bullet [:/] not caring if we got an elk or not. I like to stalk an animal and shoot it without it ever knowing I was there. The ballistic free-for-all wasn't my style.
The militia scared some deer off the mountain and we saw some yote tracks, that was it.
The next weekend we went up by ourselves and everyone had left camp by then. The three spike tags in the camp were filled but they were 0 for 8 on the cow tags. My good buddy Rick who has been in the Navy for the last six years and is a...THE gun expert has never shot a big game animal before. Let the hunt begin.
Saturday: Nobody around at all, no road hunters, no atv's. We walked down a path that leads to two big bowls, nothing in the first bowl until I turned and looked back. There were six cows and a beautiful 6x6 bull grazing, too bad it's a spike only area. Nothing in the second bowl. Walking back to the truck we heard some bugles in the pines-thick, nasty, rocky, snowy pines. With nothing to lose Rick stayed on top and I was going to flush the pines from the bottom. About 1/3 of the way down there was a bugle straight across from me, I crept along quietly until I was right above him and peeked over the crest of the 'canyon'. I couldn't see anything so I ducked out and went lower out of sight. I got back in the canyon and followed the bugle so close that I could hear his breathing. I spotted a cow across the canyon and it was game on. After a few minutes of glassin' the pines I saw some elk and dropped lower into the canyon. I spotted the 4-point that had been hollerin' and it was with 5 cows and three spikes. There was a BIG bull higher in the pines but I couldn't shoot him. For whatever reason a couple of the elk started to move up the other side, one of them was a spike...relax, safety off, blamo! One shot in the neck just below the head dropped it. I let out a "whoohoo!" like an idiot and went to claim my prize. The shot was roughly 200 yards and I only had his head and neck in view because of the pines.
Rick came down and helped me gut the elk. He said he was going to go back to the truck, drive to the bottom and hike up to help me. It took him almost 2 hours to get back to the truck. The mountain looks alot different from the bottom [frown] and I never saw him. After 3 hours of dragging 'Sammy' (I had to give him a name since I kept yelling at him, he wasn't exactly pulling his own weight,lmao) I had no strength left. I left Sammy on his own and walked down the canyon for help. Rick and I headed back up and started dragging him out only to realize that there was no way to get him out before dark, bummer.
The next morning at 8ish we headed back up the mountain and there were fresh yote tracks in the snow and my head started stirring of thoughts of poor Sammy being chewed on by a pack. When we finally arrived he was lying right where we left him with only a couple mouse tracks in the snow and our previous foot prints.
I quartered him out and got as much meat from the carcass as I could. It took two trips to get him out.
Shot Sammy at 8:30ish am Saturday morning and got all of him in the truck at 3:50 pm Sunday. I hurt my wrist, twisted my ankle, somehow managed to cut my finger, sore as I can get and next weekend is the deer hunt. Hell ya!
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The militia scared some deer off the mountain and we saw some yote tracks, that was it.
The next weekend we went up by ourselves and everyone had left camp by then. The three spike tags in the camp were filled but they were 0 for 8 on the cow tags. My good buddy Rick who has been in the Navy for the last six years and is a...THE gun expert has never shot a big game animal before. Let the hunt begin.
Saturday: Nobody around at all, no road hunters, no atv's. We walked down a path that leads to two big bowls, nothing in the first bowl until I turned and looked back. There were six cows and a beautiful 6x6 bull grazing, too bad it's a spike only area. Nothing in the second bowl. Walking back to the truck we heard some bugles in the pines-thick, nasty, rocky, snowy pines. With nothing to lose Rick stayed on top and I was going to flush the pines from the bottom. About 1/3 of the way down there was a bugle straight across from me, I crept along quietly until I was right above him and peeked over the crest of the 'canyon'. I couldn't see anything so I ducked out and went lower out of sight. I got back in the canyon and followed the bugle so close that I could hear his breathing. I spotted a cow across the canyon and it was game on. After a few minutes of glassin' the pines I saw some elk and dropped lower into the canyon. I spotted the 4-point that had been hollerin' and it was with 5 cows and three spikes. There was a BIG bull higher in the pines but I couldn't shoot him. For whatever reason a couple of the elk started to move up the other side, one of them was a spike...relax, safety off, blamo! One shot in the neck just below the head dropped it. I let out a "whoohoo!" like an idiot and went to claim my prize. The shot was roughly 200 yards and I only had his head and neck in view because of the pines.
Rick came down and helped me gut the elk. He said he was going to go back to the truck, drive to the bottom and hike up to help me. It took him almost 2 hours to get back to the truck. The mountain looks alot different from the bottom [frown] and I never saw him. After 3 hours of dragging 'Sammy' (I had to give him a name since I kept yelling at him, he wasn't exactly pulling his own weight,lmao) I had no strength left. I left Sammy on his own and walked down the canyon for help. Rick and I headed back up and started dragging him out only to realize that there was no way to get him out before dark, bummer.
The next morning at 8ish we headed back up the mountain and there were fresh yote tracks in the snow and my head started stirring of thoughts of poor Sammy being chewed on by a pack. When we finally arrived he was lying right where we left him with only a couple mouse tracks in the snow and our previous foot prints.
I quartered him out and got as much meat from the carcass as I could. It took two trips to get him out.
Shot Sammy at 8:30ish am Saturday morning and got all of him in the truck at 3:50 pm Sunday. I hurt my wrist, twisted my ankle, somehow managed to cut my finger, sore as I can get and next weekend is the deer hunt. Hell ya!
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[signature]