Adventure In The West....

[Wannabe1]

Man, you guys are killing me!     Can't wait to get home to the late season and hopefully share my first trad story with ya'll.

Whip, Beachbowhunter: Thanks fellas for sharing your adventures. I was there with you everystep of the way, if only in my mind and heart. Take care and straight shooting!

[Whip]

I made it to Denver Thursday evening and picked up my good friend from back home, Ohne Raasch.  He flew out to meet me for the next leg of my trip - elk hunting in southern Colorado.  Ohne and I had been applying for preference points in the Colorado elk draw for a number of years.  We finally took advantage of our accumulated points to draw tags for unit 76, which is a limited entry unit near Creede.  Our research told us that there were good numbers of bulls, with an excellent chance at some real nice ones.

After saving preference points for so long we wanted to give ourselves the best chance we possibly could at success, so we booked with an outfitter.  The one we chose was Sammy Fraizer, and we would be packing in to a remote valley by horseback.  

We had originally been scheduled to pack in on Saturday, but since Sammy's muzzleloader clients the previous week were all successful early, we were able to go in on Friday instead.  We met at the trailhead and loaded gear onto the horses for the trip in.
 

Not long after begining the ride it began to rain, and it was wet the whole way in.

 

Camp consisted of a comfortable wall tent with a wood burning stove for the main gathering place and cook tent, and seperate dome tents for sleeping.

 

Bob, a hunter from Connecticut, would be in camp with us.  The rest of the party consisted of Sammy, the outfitter, Pat and Bob, who would serve as guides, and Kate, the cook.

[Whip]

Wind threatened to blow down our dome tents during the night, and combined with anticipation of starting the hunt in the morning, made sleep difficult.  We woke early, grabbed a light breakfast, an climbed on the horses in the dark to begin our hunt.  The cold wind blew snow that stung our eyes and made glassing a challange.
 

We spotted a couple of elk early, but it wasn't long before it started snowing harder and harder, and soon we couldn't even see across the valley.

[Whip]

With visability down to less than a couple hundred yards, we made our way along the top edge of the black timber above timberline.  Coming to a slide area, we spotted a small lone 5x5 bull.  Ohne had his heart set on something bigger, but I was more than willing.  This would be my fifth elk hunt, and my stated goal was to take any legal bull.

The bull was below us, and I circled back and down to get to his level, with the guide following behind me to call when I was in position.  As a crept to the edge of the trees I saw antler tines and part of an elk.  I could tell immediately that this was a much bigger bull!

This new bull had been bedded, and for whatever reason, he now stood and started walking into the woods directly below me, and his path would bring him to less than 25 yards.  He lumbered up a small bank, passing behind a small deadfall, and giving me a chance to bring my bow into position for the shot.

As he stepped out, I drew and released, and watched my arrow sail harmlessly 3 inches over his back!  I couldn't believe it! The opportunity of a lifetime, and I had just blown it!  This bull was the stuff dreams are made of - extremely heavy mass, long tines, width - he had it all.  

Bob, my guide, watched the whole thing and was dumbfounded when I missed.  He estimated the bull would have scored in excess of 300 points.  I didn't care.   I just knew how badly I wanted him and now I had blown it. I had made the classic bowhunters mistake.  As soon as I released the arrow I knew I had failed to pick a spot and focus on it.  All I saw was this huge beast lumbering through the timber so close I thought he could hear my heart pounding.

To say I was devastated is a huge understatment.

[JC]

I feel for ya brutha. When I missed a chipshot this past summer at an oblivious hog I was seriously thinkin bout gettin me a couple of tattoos.....all with "PICK A SPOT" in various obvious places I can see as I draw my bow  

[tmccall]

LOL  Not a bad idea JC!  BTW  Great story guys and I'm really enjoying the pics!!!

[beachbowhunter]

Joe, those dang antelope in WY look like they're living in a freaking jungle compared to where we were chasing them!
 
  :mad:

[IB]

JOE !!!!! After the spanking we took on the stump shooting...My money was on you ALL the way. I did forget to consider the SPOT issue.    

This is a real treat BUD      


It's very easy to want to share our home with the likes of fellow Trad gang, when they are  ALL like the ones I have been BLESSED with this year. My family has growin 10 fold this fall and we LOVE IT. Door is ALWAYS open and TECATE in the frige.  

[beachbowhunter]

Vance, I'd love to come and visit for a spell. And when I do I'll bring the GOOD Mexican beer...    Around these parts, Tecate is right up there with Pabst Blue Ribbon.

[Boris196]

Great stories and pics!!  

I feel like I was standing on the mountain with you on that hunt.  

Thanks for sharing.

[Whip]

Day two found me up in the same canyon, this time we split up with Bob and I going one direction, and Ohne and Pat another.  Right away we spotted a couple small groups of elk, each with a medium sized bull and 4 or 5 cows/calves.

We were spotted trying to sneak on the first group, but that just cleared the way to the second.  This bunch was higher on the side of the mountain, and we made our way up to their level in front of the direction they seemed to be feeding, and found a well worn trail.  

Here we made a costly blunder.  Bob, the guide, had me circle back away from the direction the elk were coming from and set up above the trail.  I hadn't been there 10 minutes when I heard a stick break.  Something large was in the timber.  It took awhile, but before too long I could see cows working their way through the trees toward me, directly on the trail I was watching. A nice 5x5 followed close behind.

As they came out in the open they hit the spot Bob and I had stopped at and it was obvious they knew something was up. Although the wind was in our face, the cows smelled the area we had walked shortly before, and turned around suspiciously.  The bull turned broadside at 40 yards, but that is just too far for me, even if my confidence hadn't been shaken the day before.  All I could do is watch them walk away.

Another leason learned.  I had thought to myself when we were setting up that we should have moved in closer to where we expected them to appear.  But hey, he's the guide, and I followed blindly along.  As I have mentioned, this guided hunting was new to me, and I wasn't sure what to expect.  They did a good job for us in getting us into areas and knowing the best way to approach animals based on the terrain. And they were nice guys and fun to be around. But when it came to crunch time I think they were more aclimated to rifle hunters than bow hunters - short range traditional shooters like myself in particular.  

I wouldn't be quite so passive the next time an opportunity presented itself.


The view from the "front porch" at camp.
   

This is the main valley, and our hunting was in side valleys off of it, mostly just above timberline.

   

Me and my best friend, Barney.

   

[beachbowhunter]

Joe, which Predator pattern is that? Sure looks like it worked in that terrain.

[Whip]

I love Predator just about anywhere - next best thing to a ghillie or ASAT leafy suit.  The one I had out there is fall brown.

[Steve O]

Ummmmmm, I think you are forgetting something, like THE REST OF THE STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

             

[Shaun]

Good stuff Joe. Keep after em, we're with ya.

[cjones]

Awesome story! Keep it up.

[Whip]

Sorry for the delay... Now where was I again....
On day 3 Pat took Ohne and I up to a spot they called the Golf Course, which was a series of wide flat benches above the timber.  The ride up on the horses was exciting to say the least!  The moon hadn't risen yet, and even when it did, was barely more than a sliver.  Imagine riding a horse up a steep mountainside trail, winding in and out of large pines, when you can't see your hand in front of your face.
   

All I could do was hope Barney could see better than I could!  We left the horses and hustled the rest of the way up the mountain on foot.  Arriving at the top, Pat parked me in a group of trees and took Ohne to a spot up a bit higher.  There were two bulls within sight as dawn broke, and a third was bugling just over a rise.  Up to this point we hadn't heard much for bugling, so it was music to my ears.

There bulls I could see appeared to be feeding away from me, so I cow called a few times and got ones attention.  He turned and began drifting my way.  The bugling bull also sounded like he was getting closer, and eventually appeared followed by a cow and calf.  They were coming, and looking at my position, but eventually drifted by too high on the mountain.
   

They also ended up going past Ohne at about 80 yards, going right up over the top rather than drifting down toward the timber as we had hoped.

[Whip]

We saw a large group of elk, including a couple of very nice bulls, head into a small stand of timber about a mile away.  They didn't come out, so obviously this was where they would spend the day.  Ohne and I decided to head over there and take stands on trails leading from the timber in the hope that when they decided to move they might give us an opportunity.

We spent the entire day on the side of that mountain, and never saw an elk.  But the sun was warm, and the scenery breathtaking, so it didn't matter much.
   

Hard to image how this rock could balance for years like this.  We often would hear and even see rocks randomly falling and rolling down the mountain.  My stand for the day was very close to this one, but I calculated carefully that it should miss me if its time to move happened to come.

   

   

   


   

[RayMO]

Thanks for sharing Joe    . How in the world did that rock get there  :D    :D

[Whip]

Day 4 found us headed back to the Golf Course area, but a further east of yesterdays spot.  Same scary ride up the mountain, but I sure appreciated having a horse under me rather than having to do it all on my own.  The oxygen at 12,000 feet is not nearly as plentiful as I need it to be!  I have asthma, and as a result my lung capacity is not what it should be.  Pat, our guide, did a great job listening for how much I was gasping for breath and stopping when I needed a blow.  Once I caught on to that it was easy to stop him when I wanted just by breathing hard          I prefer to take my time - I'll get there eventually.

When we reached the top this morning we immediately saw a lone bull about 200 yards away raking his antlers on a small tree.  The morning thermals carried the wind strongly from him to us, and there was a small group of pines between us.  Ohne and I worked up to the group of trees with him taking the left side, and me on the right.  Pat stayed back in the treeline to call.

A couple of cow calls got his attention, and he bugled at what he thought were unseen ladies. After about 10 minutes he couldn't take it anymore and took a couple of steps our way.  I remember thinking this is going to be the one!

Cautiously the bull made his way down the hill toward us.  He was obviously looking for love, and just knew it was waiting for him just inside the trees.  He stopped about 20 yards out in front of our little group of trees and let out another screaming bugle.  One of us was going to get a shot - it was only a matter of which way he would turn.

The bull turned to his right, which would take him away from me.  Ohne waited for the bull to get perfectly broadside, and when Pat stopped him with a cow call, let the arrow go.

At the hit the bull took off.  Ohne wasn't sure of the shot, thinking it might be too far forward.  But to me it sounded good.  Deep penetration, just up from the leg. That has to be lungs!

We waited 1 1/2 hours to give the bull time, and then went to inspect the site of the hit.  Blood was very sparse.  I climbed to the top of a rise so that I could look out ahead of Pat and Ohne as they tracked in case they might jump him.  This was the view I ended up with.
   

Bull Down!  And the celebration began!  It was so cool to be a part of this.

   

In his last slide down the hillside the bull broke off the brow tine on his left side.  We looked and looked, but could not find it.  He was still a very nice 6x6 bull, and the taxidermist can always put the point back on.