After many years of Hunting as much as possible, with work and family taking priority, I scored early in the season on what maybe a "once in a lifetime" bull for this hunter. I cant remember the last year I hunted opening weekend but two years ago I found a isolated wallow and this year I took the weekend off from work so I could be sitting there at first light. Well Saturday was a long day and although I heard a few bugles far away I didnt see an Elk. Getting back to camp that night my friend had better news to report. He had Elk all over him far and near. We decided to hunt two different water sources on Sunday morning in that same area. Once again, hiking over an hour in the dark I was at a wallow by first light. Bugles above me by 2 diferent bulls sounded promising. After 1 hour or so and maybe 20 bugles the bull directly above me sounded as though he might be moving off. I cow called just 2 soft mews not knowing if he could even hear them. He did not scream back. 5 minutes later he screamed and was obviously about half the distance he had been the last hour. Very shortly after I could hear his horns and hooves making a racket as he came in hard and fast straight down the steep north facing timbered slope. And then there he was, tipping his head side to side to maneuver around tree branches, maybe 80 yards away. It looked like he was gonna sidehill to the far end of the water/ mud complex which would put him out of range but then he swung onto one of many criss-crossing Elk trails and descended down to the water directly in front of me 18-20 yards. I was on my knees and had a 20 inch pine tree out in front of me, blowdown behind and to my right side. All I could see of the bull was his front hooves in the water and his head and brow tines. His big right eyeball appeared to be looking at me so I did not move. While he sucked in what must have been over 5 gallons of water I waited, trying to keep it together. Taking a break from drinking he looked back up the hill he had come down and I took the opportunity to lean out around the tree and look at more of his body. I was surprised to see his body was broadside because previously contemplating his body position, judging only from his two front hooves and facial angle I had thought he was hard quartering toward me. Turned out he was turning his head to drink and was actually in a great shooting position for me. So then I rocked back to rest again on my heels and he turns back and begins to drink again. After another long drink he lifted his head again, muzzle dripping, and looked again back up the hill and away from me. I leaned out again to visually clear the big tree 8 feet in front of me and locked on to my aim point as I drew the bow. His flank was absolutely huge as I struggled to narrow my focus to one small point. As I reached full draw the bull was swinging his head around to focus on me when I let the Grizzly tipped shaft go. I'm sure he had a little time to jump the string but I thought I still got him good.
After a failed attempt to locate my buddy I returned to my little "hide" and tried to read my book and enjoy a little Skoal. When 2 hours had elapsed I took up the trai. After 10 yards I found first blood and then 50 yards later I lost the blood trail. Taking one trail I walked 10 yards out looking for blood when I looked up and could clearly see a big Elk 100 yard away through thick timber. It was meant to be. My wait was over. I had finally achieved my long awaited public land big bull dreams. My bull of a lifetime was down. I took my time walking up to him and at one point after studying his motionless form with binoculars, fell to my knees with relief and thankfulness. I took pictures and quartered and bagged the meat by myelf (not a ton of fun). This animal was so huge I couldnt roll him over until I had removed the meat from one side of him and cut off his head/horns. Still I struggled to get him over (didnt help he had drank so much water before the shot)
With my Blacks Creek Canadian pack I was able to haul out the first quarter, and everything in my daypack, 2 slow/hard hours back to the trailhead. Driving down the road I ran into my friend coming up the other way to check and see if my vehicle was still there. We pulled up window to window and he said, glancing at my bow in the passenger seat, that "I wasn't missing any arrows". Well it was my pleaure to correct him and show him the slightly shortened blooded shaft that had missed his detection.
2 hours later I had arranged for Grandma to watch my children the next day and we located another buddy willing to make the drive down and take a quarter out on Labor Day. This meant we only had to go in once more for the rest of the meat. It also meant the party could begin at the closest Saloon and then later at the big fire at our campsite. What a deal.....
Topic: SW Montana Bull (Read 5708 times)
