I posted this in the photos section but figured I'd post it here and give a better story:
It was one of those mornings where you don't want to go. The bed covers felt like a hundred pounds of concrete and I had been up till midnight watching thursday night football (and enjoying a few brews) The 4am wake up buzz came and left with a punch of the snooze button, but the second buzz got me up. Haphazardly throwing things into my backpack, and grabbing a few granola bars instead of an actual lunch, I got into my 2 door honda accord and headed out of town.
Forty-five minutes later I was at the "trailhead," a crude pull out on the road just wide enough not to get my car stuck in the ditch but be off the road a safe distance. Suddenly the meal of football junk food from the night before decided it was time to exit. Frantically grabbing toilet paper and fumbling in the sagebrush I found a fence post. After the moment had past I regained my composure just in time to hear the valley unleash with bugles and cow mews below me.
At first light I spotted a big herd bull chasing a solid five point off. He was definitely the big man in town and showed so as he tore sagebrush and juniper up with his antlers, urinated on it, and then rolled in it. The cows headed up a coulee and I took chase. I could still hear two or three other bulls screaming around the badlands far off as I approached the draw they entered. Sneaking to the bottom of the draw I setup with a few cow mews, and after a couple minutes, a squealy bugle. Nothing.
A couple hours later I busted a bull out of some timber I had checked twice with my binocs. I finished my climb to the top of the ridge and sat on a ledge in despair. Pouting on my hill top I opened a granola bar and let out a few cow mews. A broad sagebrush flat was below me with ponderosa draws dropping to the prairie stream further below the flat.
Unexpectedly I spotted a bull dashing across the flat towards my ledge. I quickly grabbed my bow, and nocked an arrow. The ledge I was on was a wide grass covered table top that separated two drainages, and the bull disappeared under me since I was sat back about 10ft from the edge. I figured he was going to take the game trail to me right so I maneuvered to shoot that direction.
Moments past, no bull. He should have popped over the edge by now. I glanced to my left and saw the tops of antlers 15 feet in front of me, just over the edge. He was coming straight up the ledge to me. First his head came over the edge, his mouth panting from the run. I was tense, surely he was going to see me and the contents of my backpack strewn about in the grass. Suddenly I started to panic, I was on my knees flat on the ground, completely vulnerable in grassland open. The nearest object of safety was a ponderosa about 10 yards away. I’ve hunted elk my whole life and know they usually take off if something is not right. Usually. What if I was that guy, who made people say “usually.” Regardless of his reaction on way or the other, it was going to be extreme.
The bull started to fully crest the ledge and I could see his chest, then his legs, then his hooves. I could feel him there, I heard every step, every rock crunch was deafening. The bull had seen me and was fixed on me. Ears forward and straight on to me. The bull’s second front hoof climbed on to the ledge and he stopped. I always had imagined myself in this situation, solid as a rock, ready for the shot. My mind was racing- do I draw?- do I not move?- what if he comes at me?
Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. As he lowered his head to try and smell me, just a foot or two about me, I moved my shoulder. The bull spun around off the edge and I stood up and drew. My safety ponderosa blocked his view from me and I shot as he stopped.
As I watched my first bull elk fall down a hundred yards away from a perfect double lung shot, the herd bull came out of a draw. I had cow called a few times after the shot and it must have drew him out. He walked over to within yards of my bull, let out a perfect bugle, then left. I got to him about 10am, had him boned out at 1pm and all the meat packed into the trunk of my Honda by 9pm. The bull’s rack had to stick out the sunroof.
All public land, DIY, public access.
It was one of those mornings where you don't want to go. The bed covers felt like a hundred pounds of concrete and I had been up till midnight watching thursday night football (and enjoying a few brews) The 4am wake up buzz came and left with a punch of the snooze button, but the second buzz got me up. Haphazardly throwing things into my backpack, and grabbing a few granola bars instead of an actual lunch, I got into my 2 door honda accord and headed out of town.
Forty-five minutes later I was at the "trailhead," a crude pull out on the road just wide enough not to get my car stuck in the ditch but be off the road a safe distance. Suddenly the meal of football junk food from the night before decided it was time to exit. Frantically grabbing toilet paper and fumbling in the sagebrush I found a fence post. After the moment had past I regained my composure just in time to hear the valley unleash with bugles and cow mews below me.
At first light I spotted a big herd bull chasing a solid five point off. He was definitely the big man in town and showed so as he tore sagebrush and juniper up with his antlers, urinated on it, and then rolled in it. The cows headed up a coulee and I took chase. I could still hear two or three other bulls screaming around the badlands far off as I approached the draw they entered. Sneaking to the bottom of the draw I setup with a few cow mews, and after a couple minutes, a squealy bugle. Nothing.
A couple hours later I busted a bull out of some timber I had checked twice with my binocs. I finished my climb to the top of the ridge and sat on a ledge in despair. Pouting on my hill top I opened a granola bar and let out a few cow mews. A broad sagebrush flat was below me with ponderosa draws dropping to the prairie stream further below the flat.
Unexpectedly I spotted a bull dashing across the flat towards my ledge. I quickly grabbed my bow, and nocked an arrow. The ledge I was on was a wide grass covered table top that separated two drainages, and the bull disappeared under me since I was sat back about 10ft from the edge. I figured he was going to take the game trail to me right so I maneuvered to shoot that direction.
Moments past, no bull. He should have popped over the edge by now. I glanced to my left and saw the tops of antlers 15 feet in front of me, just over the edge. He was coming straight up the ledge to me. First his head came over the edge, his mouth panting from the run. I was tense, surely he was going to see me and the contents of my backpack strewn about in the grass. Suddenly I started to panic, I was on my knees flat on the ground, completely vulnerable in grassland open. The nearest object of safety was a ponderosa about 10 yards away. I’ve hunted elk my whole life and know they usually take off if something is not right. Usually. What if I was that guy, who made people say “usually.” Regardless of his reaction on way or the other, it was going to be extreme.
The bull started to fully crest the ledge and I could see his chest, then his legs, then his hooves. I could feel him there, I heard every step, every rock crunch was deafening. The bull had seen me and was fixed on me. Ears forward and straight on to me. The bull’s second front hoof climbed on to the ledge and he stopped. I always had imagined myself in this situation, solid as a rock, ready for the shot. My mind was racing- do I draw?- do I not move?- what if he comes at me?
Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. As he lowered his head to try and smell me, just a foot or two about me, I moved my shoulder. The bull spun around off the edge and I stood up and drew. My safety ponderosa blocked his view from me and I shot as he stopped.
As I watched my first bull elk fall down a hundred yards away from a perfect double lung shot, the herd bull came out of a draw. I had cow called a few times after the shot and it must have drew him out. He walked over to within yards of my bull, let out a perfect bugle, then left. I got to him about 10am, had him boned out at 1pm and all the meat packed into the trunk of my Honda by 9pm. The bull’s rack had to stick out the sunroof.
All public land, DIY, public access.
