Mike pretty much nails the spirit and essence of our hunt with his post, but I'll add a few details from my perspective. I'll start on the morning where I kill my bull and Mike and I have just dropped down and sprinted to the patch of timber we think the elk are heading to. We probably sprinted a quarter mile, and once we got to the cover, I went for the bush straight ahead, and Mike went for a juniper about 50 yards under me. Once I backed up into the bush and got situated, I immediately started having doubts and wondered if they were going to go to the other patch of timber back the way we'd come from. I looked back at Mike to give him a "you made us pick the wrong spot" look, but I when I looked back, I saw the head of a cow about 75 yards away moving perpendicular to my position uphill from me. She was moving steadily, and when she was directly above me, she walked right in front of a perfectly round juniper bush, nipping at it as she went. Then I saw a calf and another cow were behind her. I realized it was the herd we'd been watching and grabbed the string knowing the bull couldn't be far behind. Sure enough, after 30 seconds or so, I saw his horns through the grass, then his whole body as he followed the cows in front of him. I was going to shoot right when he got to the round juniper directly above me. I figured it was about 40 yards. Long shot for sure, but I've been practicing out to 40 since we got drawn. As he approaches the bush, I start to draw then instantly let down as my top limb is in a branch. Unbelievable. In my doubt and haste, I hadn't thoroughly checked my positioning. Scooting out from the bush to redraw, I was sure they'd be spooked. They had no clue. I drew, anchored, thought "don't miss low", and released. It was right on the money before dropping under him. Low... He bounded a few steps and stopped. I nocked another one and let it go. This one missed low too. I hung my head but honestly wasn't too distraught because I knew it was a really long shot. It wasn't like missing at 20-30. I noticed that I could still see the bull and the cows that were before him. They were looking around but not overly alerted but by now were way out of range. Then I looked up and saw there was one more cow heading down the same trail. I nocked another one and prepared to kill her when I saw there was a young bull behind her. I knew I had to hold a little higher on what was sure to be my last shot, and when he got to the round juniper I was already at full draw. I let it go and it felt perfect immediately. I heard the arrow hit, but at that range, couldn't really see my yellow fletchings against his tan hide. My mind wouldn't let me believe I'd really hit him but I watched as he trotted off a tuft of hair that slowly started to grow and turn red...
When my mind registered that what I saw was blood, perfectly behind his shoulder, I dropped my bow and tore down the hill toward my brother. I was parallel in the air like a free safety when I tackled him. After 5 minutes of the most intensely unscripted emotion (hug wrestling, yelling, crying, praying) I've ever felt, I calmed down enough to decide that we needed to give him an hour to be sure. We hiked up to where we'd dropped our packs, prayed some more, and played back the moment on repeat. When an hour was up, we went to the bush I shot from. We stepped it off to the bush where he was standing when I shot, and there, stuck 4 inches in the ground, was my blood covered arrow. It was 61 paces from where I'd shot from. I doubt I would have even shot if I'd known he was 60 yards away, but there's just no way to judge distance when you're not used to the size of these animals. We followed a high lung type blood trail about 90 - 100 yards and found him at the end of it. We thanked God for the unbelievable blessing that this animal was, the clean, quick kill, and being able to do it together.
My bow is also a beast. 60" 64#@28" Centaur. Jim built it for himself back in 2000 then sold it a year later. Don't know how many hands it's been in since then, but it's found it's final home in me!
Fast forward two days, and we're back to the spike camp and Mike is heading to some timber about 1/4 mile from me in hopes of intersecting a bull of his own. I was sitting against a little juniper on a bald hill, and had elk and bugling bulls all around me. There was a big herd in one drain, two bulls together directly in front of me, and a solo bull on a ridge to my left. All in the open or in sparse cover where I could see them well, and all slowly moving towards the cover where I knew Mike was waiting. As I'm soaking in the majesty of this morning, I hear thundering hooves behind me. I turn to look and see a young bull with some velvet still on, galloping down the hill I'm on. I start to text Mike because he's heading right towards him, then I just call him. When he says "oh crap I see him", I drop the phone and start watching through my binos. I'll never forget what I saw... The bull went behind a juniper and I lost him. At this point, I don't know where Mike is other than he has to be in the vicinity of this bull because he said he saw him. I kept watching knowing I'd have to see the bull come out the other side eventually. 20-30 seconds later and I saw the bull through some trees. It looked like he was stumbling...
Then, Mike emerges from a juniper that was fully in my view the whole time. He is simultaneously running and pulling an arrow from his quiver. Then he stops to shoot, starts running again, draws another arrow and shoots. Then he's out of sight. At this point, I can't believe what I've witnessed and am trying to control my excitement. Then I see him again. This time he's walking towards me, bow in hand, both arms extended skyward. I knew what that meant and lost it again. My shirt came off (not sure why), I threw on my pack and started sprinting towards him. We celebrated, praised God again for His almost laughable kindness towards us and then started butchering Mike's elk. Then Mike ruined the moment by sticking his knife in his hand. He yelled an expletive and when I looked up from the ham I was working on, he was already turning green. He sat down and told me he was going to pass out and to please catch his head. He then passed out and I caught his head. I laid him down then dug out CLEAN underwear (I wouldn't have wrapped his wound in used underwear. I also have no idea why I had clean underwear in my hunting pack. That's a mystery) to wrap his hand. I got him patched up, finished boning out the bull, then loaded meat, skin, and horns, and we started back to our scout camp. Mike complained that I wouldn't let him help finish boning and packing the meat 3 minutes after he'd regained consciousness. Big brother said "no" though so he drank water and laid down for the final 10 minutes of the process. We made the truck by dark, and were thoroughly and completely spent. Praise God for this experience. All of it.
Topic: New Mexico Elk Hunt (Read 1854 times)
