After 12 years of applying it all came down to 9 days of scouting and hunting. We hunted hard Wed. and Thurs., then an unlucky work schedule forced me to return to Salt Lake for the morning and afternoon of Friday. Back on the mountain Friday evening, and it was like the woods changed overnight with the cooler weather. Hunted hard again Sat. and Sun. We had multiple bulls in range over the first 5 days of the hunt...just none of the "big" guys.
Monday morning we decided to try and get in front of the elk. Even though they were bugling and tearing up the woods like crazy, at first light, they would start to make their way from the ridges down into the bottom of the canyons to bed on the north-facing pine slopes. The day before, we had been close, but again, it was little bulls that were in range. We decided to work down the edge of some private land where the elk had been partying the day before and hunt the public land.
Our plan would have worked to perfection except the elk were already in the canyon bottom and heading up into the pines at first light. My brother-in-law Josh and I couldn't believe it, but since there were elk screaming to our left as well (on the private), we decided to continue down to the bottom and hope the elk would work their way towards us. A couple minutes later about 100 yards from the bottom, a different, lone bull screamed above us, and he was CLOSE...maybe 150 yards but hidden. We picked up the pace to make it into some quakies, and he bugled again...this time maybe 100 yards. I braced the Knight .52 on a quakie and pointed it uphill on a trail where I thought the bull would come out, and Josh let out a couple chirps. The response was immediate, and all of a sudden Josh saw him. Due to the angle, I couldn't see him at first, but when I finally did, he was staring at us front on at 50 yards. The only shot I had was at his chest, so I put it right at the base of his neck and pulled the trigger. CLICK!! My primer didn't go off - you've got to be kidding me! Since I couldn't remember in the moment where I'd put the extra primer I carry around, all I could do was cycle the bolt and try again, so without moving the gun, I did just that, and pulled the trigger again. KABOOM!! This time the gun did it's job, and the elk dropped in his tracks. We found the bullet lodged just underneath his backstrap with the uphill angle of the shot.
All that was left was to quarter him and call the packer to come haul him out of the bottom of that canyon. I've hauled plenty of animals out on my back, and I have to say that the money spent to let the horses do it was some of the best spent funds I can think of.
