***2015 Best Elk DIY Public lands hunt / Elk harvest write up posting thread ***

May 16, 2015
83
0
Congratulations. Thanks for sharing your story and the pictures. Perseverance pays. Did you ever determine the cause(s) of the misfires? Would have been a real disappointment if only the first opportunity had presented itself.
 

FitToHunt

Active Member
First Time Wyoming Solo Archery Hunt

I'd be lying if I said I've got a knack for story telling, but I did have the most epic hunting experience of my life this past year so I'd love to share it.

2015 was the first year I ever tried to apply for some out of state hunts ( I live in Washington) after dreaming of doing it for years. After some research I settled on applying for a Wyoming General season tag and paying the extra $$ for a special application to almost guarantee that I drew. I settled on hunting the Greys River area and started my intense google maps scouting :) I got the time off work, bought all my new light weight back packing gear, and started flinging arrows daily from every distance and position imaginable. With my new single pin HHA sight I increased my confident range from 60 yards to 75!

Then came Aug 31st about a week before my trip. I was in the kitchen with my father when all of a sudden he started to slur his speech and his right arm went limp. I'm a 6 year FF and EMT, so I knew immediately what it was. A Stroke!!! No need to panic, I've seen this 1000x at work. Called 911 immediately and within 15 mins we were in the back of the ambulance headed to the ER. His condition went from bad to worse. After the TPA and several scans, it was determined he had a severe hemorrhagic stroke and would need a life saving operation.

At the time my dream elk hunt was the last thing on my mind. The doctors managed to keep him alive, while still being unconscious and in very critical condition.

Fast-forward several days. His condition began to stabilize slightly and the other things in life started to enter my thoughts. It was my mother that brought up my upcoming trip. She knew how much it meant to me and so did my dad. She was sure that's what he would want. The thought of being 1000 miles and no cell service away made me very anxious, but after a little good news from the docs and some kamikaze shift trades at work, I decided to leave about 2 weeks later than planned.

The drive alone from Seattle to Wyoming had me second guessing my choice, but once I reached the Western Montana area just at sunrise and saw the fall colors starting to change and the fog hanging to the river bottoms. The hair on the back of my neck started to stand up and I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be. THIS IS ELK SEASON!!!!

After about a day and a half of driving logging roads, checking my GPS, exploring trail heads, sleeping in my truck, and talking to locals. I settled on a spot to hike in several miles, packed all my necessities into my new slumberjack pack, and set up camp.

The rim of the valley below was where my camp was set just inside the tree line and next to a little stream. My first hike up to the vantage point I started hearing bugles immediately and in the middle of the day! Good sign. I started to explore the valley below and it was full of fresh sign. Lots of rubs, fresh tracks, and more massive wallows than I could count. I focused my efforts on the edges of the ultra steep, thick, nasty timber. For the first several days I was seeing more and more sign the deeper down I went, and several times came so close I could smell em'. But, i kept getting the feeling they were just a few steps ahead of me. I did a little bugling and cow calling at first light with no responses. By about day 5 the temp was rising and all day light vocalizations had stopped completely.

After a week I was starting to smell worse than I ever had before and the thought of another freeze dried meal was turning my stomach. I was beginning to fantasize more about a pizza, a cold beer, and a hot shower. But this was elk season. This was what I had waited all year for. So I decided to slip my boots on over my blistered feet again, and try something new.

The past few nights I was still hearing the occasional distant bugle well after day. I set my alarm for 2 am, got all geared up in the frost, and set out in the dark for the northern most tip of the upper rim. I sat in the pitch black for a few hours under the most brilliant night sky imaginable, and at about 5 am the valley below began to explode with sound. One bugle after another. All told, I think I was sitting above 6 bulls total in the darkness. I made mental notes of where each on was, and decided to make a stalk on the biggest, meanest sounding one of all.

At first light I set out straight down at what I hoped was the herd bull. The wind wasn't perfect but it was consistent so I was able to adjust. The trek down was much stepper then I thought. I had to butt slide several areas. I think it took me about 30 minutes to get to exactly where that bull would be standing in my minds eye, and.... Nothing. I trekked further up the draw... Nothing. I had one last area. A pinch point between this draw and the one I knew they were using. If I made it to that spot in time, they'd have to cross me... Nothing! It didn't make any sense. How could so many bulls disappear without even seeing one running away?

I marched back to camp excited, but confused. After a quick lunch and a power nap it was time to fill up the water bladder from the stream, toss down a couple mini-snickers and head back out. I retraced my steps for the morning hunt. After spending several hours back tracking to the spot I'd sat out in the pitch black last morning, I realized what had happened... There was a totally separate draw within the draw I was hunting. This one was more open, but much steeper, and more rocky than the first one. With a tiny creek running through the bottom. I turned up wind an headed straight down into it. I got almost to the bottom and about half way up on the other side was a bull with several cows. I checked the yardage. 120yrds. There was a little timber and several large rocks between us, but otherwise it was totally open.

By now it was close to dark and I had to decide if I was gonna make a very open stalk on this bull or let him disappear into the night. I made a mental pathway to take and my "spot of no return"... I went for it. I wasn't running, but I was moving as fast as humanly possible without just crashing through the brush. Somehow, I made it to that spot undetected. But by then ever elk around was aware something had moved and was looking around. I ranged the bull. 90 yrds. I ranged the closest cow 77 yrds. The other cows seemed to sense something was up and started to move away over a small hump, out of sight. The bull followed. For some reason that closest cow didn't budge. And right as the bull was starting to disappear, he decided at the last second to go get his lagging cow. He charged her, horned her in the rear and pushed her back into the group... This left him standing broad side exactly where she had just been... 77 yrds.

My single pin was set at 75, so I let it fly... Drilled him! Boiler room!
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archerramon

New Member
Feb 2, 2015
12
0
2015 Colorado Public Land DIY Archery - Sweet Dreams of Bugling Bulls

After hunting the first 10 days of the season, I drove home to regroup and spend time with my family. 3 days later it was time to make the trek back to elk country. I arrived on the eve of the muzzle loader season opener. I was hoping that I still had my area all to myself, and was fortunate to find no one else had set up camp.

hiking bow n shed.jpg

As the days passed, I explored a couple of other more remote areas where we had spotted elk during the summer scouting trips. There were a few bulls working the other areas but nothing too exciting. Now back at base camp, the next few days had me working a huge bull. I’d easily put this bull in the 370/380 class maybe even bigger -- a true monster bull with 50+ cows working the rims of the mountains around me and I could only close in as close as 100yds. On my last attempt, a HUGE storm came in catching me off guard. Now exposed on the mountain with little to no cover and lightening all around, it was time to RUN back to camp. Getting back at camp with 30 minutes of glassing light left, I set up the spotting scope making the most of the time, I got a great look at my next target. The fog cleared enough to expose him. He wasn’t giant like the monster I had played chess with on the mountain that evening, but he was real pretty. I came up with a plan to work the bull the next day, ate dinner and then crawled into my sleeping bag, welcoming that sweet dream of bugling bulls.

Before I knew it, my alarm woke me at 0 dark 30 the next morning. After a few sips of coffee and a granola bar, fueled mostly by excitement for the plan I had laid out, it was time to go. I hiked down about a mile in the dark, to a knob that was roughly 1,000 yards from where I had last seen the bull the night before. I did not want to get in too close without knowing exactly where he was, for fear of bumping him or other elk in the dark. I knew I needed to be patient, to not blow them out.

It didn’t take long to find him. The wind was in my favor, with cold morning air consistently running downhill, so I decided to move in and call from about 300 yards away. A small 6 charged down the ridge from ½ mile out stopping suddenly only about 100 yards. The small 6 bugled a few more times then began to feed. “What the heck?!?” An excited young bull like that shouldn’t hang-up!” Then my bull showed up at the bottom, approaching the hill to my position. The same thing happened. “He hung-up too?” Then the third bull joined them. All three bulls were stopped and hung-up in the same exact spot, all within a few minutes of each other. So, I watched them. All three would occasionally bugle while they fed, working their way towards a densely covered northerly slope covered in JP. As we came on 9:30 a.m., they fell quiet and I felt confident I knew where they had bedded for the day. Note to self: They had no cows around. Move in tight (but not too tight), work the early evening hot thermals going uphill and make this happen! With the hang-up on my mind, I walked to a point where I could clearly see where the bulls had stopped coming. The obstruction became obvious -- a 20-foot cliff band was preventing the elk from closing the last 100 yards. Another note to self: Get on East side of cliff band you dummy you’re not hunting mountain goats!

Cliff Band.jpg

After a quick nap back at camp it was a quick 1.5 mile hike and I was in my first position close to where the bulls bedded. I received no responses after a series of very light cow calls thru my Elk Reel call, which were some contact mews. Move #2: I moved 75 yards closer to the bedding area and repeated the light cow mews. No response. Move #3: I squeeze in a bit tighter to the bedding area by another 75 yards. I got halfway thru my first mew and my bull, the growliest of the three, responded. Then, the squeaker 6 sounded off with his juvenile bugles, followed by the other mature bull, deeper and further into the JP. All three were on their feet moving in. Game on!

My bull cleared a small opening about 100 yards away, giving me a really cool show of tree raking, bugling and glunking. I gave the bull one last assembly call and demanding mew. I stopped calling and went silent. At that point, I knew that with his ability to pinpoint my location from a distance, I shouldn’t give him too much.
It went quiet. With an arrow knocked and my release hooked on my D loop, I waited. Listening and looking without moving a muscle, I scanned with my eyes only. Suddenly, the silence was broken. Not by the screaming bugle of a bull, but by deep breathing over my right shoulder, just two yards away from me. Standing on the other side of the Juniper tree was my bull. I was facing east, he was facing west. The bull began to step west, as though he was going to peek around the tree to see the cow he had pinpointed five minutes earlier! I drew my bow and very slowly turned 180 degrees to the east thinking I might have a 3 yard shot. The bull decided to double back in the direction he had come from. I had been sitting at full draw now for one minute. I turned 180 degrees back to the east where I started my draw as the shakes kicked in. My breathing was starting to fail me, my muscles began to ache. After another 30 seconds he stepped out to five yards. No Shot!!! His vitals were completely covered. Now at full draw for what seemed like five minutes, I was shaking uncontrollably, my breathing loud and erratic. I was fearful he could hear me, and as he got nervous and the bull buggered off. I think he did hear me.
“Dang it!!!” I thought, my chance at that beautiful bull was blown. But then, within moments of him stepping away, the squeaker 6 bull came in -- bugling all around me. After a couple minutes I heard the growl of my bull, proceeded by rocks tumbling, tree limbs breaking and the bull glunking. He showed himself, coming in on a string at 50 yards. With the small 6-point buck still in my space at ten yards, and my bulls head behind a tree limb, I drew my bow.

My bull now at 40 yards, bugling and glunking, and I could see his eyes rolling back in his head ready to fight. Now at 30 yards, he was closing in fast. He was glunking and making really low, guttural sounds I wish everyone could hear at least once in their lives. Spooky yet magical. Twenty yards and bugling still straight at me.
In my mind I thought, “No need for range finder, top pin, top pin, chip shot!” (I had switched to an adjustable single pin site this year so there’s only one pin, but old habits are hard to break)…18 yards. “Turn, turn, give me your shoulder, turn…” I don’t like the frontal shot even though I know it’s lethal. 16 yards, “Turn, turn dammit!” My pin was lined up and waiting for the bull to turn …15 yds. “Turn...” Then at no more than 8 yards, as though he got close enough to hear my thoughts, he turned and gave me a marginal quartering towards shot, with his front shoulder blade still back covering up the “perfect shot” I waited a split second longer and as he reached for his next step and his shoulder cleared. It was no longer a marginal quarter towards shot. “Execute the shot…rotate”. My trigger release fired…Thwack! My arrow and its green illuminated knock (1st year lighted knocks are legal in Colorado) glowed brightly behind the shoulder, the arrow buried deep within an inch of its fletching.

dead elk2.jpg

The bull ran past me at five yards on the opposite side of the tree, crashing into every JP in his path. Ten seconds later the crashing stopped. I heard a groan, rocks rolling, and a crash, followed by the last exhale of a majestic bull. It was over. 30 seconds was all it took. It was a quick, clean and ethical kill. Ultimately my bull piled up within 50 to 60 yards from where he was hit, and expired within 60 seconds. I was in disbelief that my dream season was over. I just killed a beautiful 340” bull, 48” bigger than any other bull I’ve killed to date.

I was anxious to run down and grab him. But I could hear my dad in my mind, “Give him at least 30 minutes”. I sat down, collected my thoughts, chewed on some Sweetwood meat sticks, drank some water, and watched the small 6-point finally booger and disappear over the hill. In this part of the unit, I had good cell phone reception so I texted my wife a short message: “Shot and hit a bull.” Then, after the 30-minute wait, I texted: “On blood trail.” After following the carnage of JP trees, rolled rocks and ripped out sage brush (like King Kong clearing a path in the jungle), I saw the hide of my bull, and that’s when I called home. Tears flowed, and I am man enough to admit it. Being able to share this moment of success with my wife on the phone, as I put my hands on his antlers for the first time, was a special moment, never to be forgotten.

My wife knows how much hunting, and more specifically archery elk hunting, means to me. I’ve got a “pass” to disappear every September to chase my sweet dreams of bugling bulls. So to her I said, “Thank you. I love you. I’m coming home with our bull and our meat to feed our family and share with our closest friends.”

With my bugling bull withdrawal setting in as I write my story, I can only think that it’s time to get ready for the 2016 DIY Archery Elk Public Land season! Only 11 months to go! Back to the range. Hike and train around local mountains, set up cameras at water holes, organize your camo clothing, take inventory of your best elk calls, gather your camp gear, tune your broadheads…Good luck
out there, be safe fellow elk chasers, and sweet dreams of bugling bulls!

2015 bull bow up.jpg

Sub# 692258
 

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25contender

Veteran member
Mar 20, 2013
1,638
90
Midnight tonight is the deadline!! If you have a entry now is the time to get it in!! Mark
 

huntabsarokee

Member
Feb 27, 2012
51
0
Northeast PA
Since the deadline is over thought I would now add a few more pictures to my story. Didn't want to go over the limit. Forgot about it until now that in pic 2 we both had on our Eastman's hats.





 

dukhnt

New Member
May 7, 2014
8
0
Congratulations. Thanks for sharing your story and the pictures. Perseverance pays. Did you ever determine the cause(s) of the misfires? Would have been a real disappointment if only the first opportunity had presented itself.
I switched brands of primers and that seemed to do the trick.
 

Ebelljr

New Member
May 5, 2016
8
0
Ridgecrest ca,
Great Hunt! Great pictures. I was wondering what unit you drew? I was lucky enough to draw a tag this year for 16D and was hoping to gather some information from anyone willing to share. Im lookig for good map info and recommendations on possible areas to scout. I'm looking for a local rancher that would be willing to take me in and drop me off at a dry camp. Any recommendations would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.