May be my last elk hunt grrr! FUN rest of the story!W/PIX

[wapiti]

Well MR. Spoiler just keep coming and you and I shall dance together tonight. He takes his sweet time and my mind begins to race! Why is he so cautious? How could a bull of that size give such a full and mature bugle? Has he been that close all this while? He has to know he is treading dangerously coming towards "elk"?  40 minutes or so pass and he is now 20 yards away, broadside and looking right through me to what ever he has imagined in his little tough guy head. I draw on him but do not shoot. Over the years I learned to NEVER shoot at an animal when he/she is looking at me. I let down and then it happens!! Another bull lets loose a very loud and intimidating call. He is close and in less than 10 seconds I see black legs shuffle this way. Then he appears, a very nice 5x5 and he looks PISSED. He moves slowly and steady towards Mr. Spoiler ready to kick some hind end! The little one has not said a word all this time and I now realize it was the 5x5 doing the  talking and lil tough guy was just trying to steal ahead of him and make off with a date or two. EVERYONE is nervous now! I draw at the little bull once again but he will not avoid me long enough to let me shoot with any confidence. The 5x5 hangs up at around 75 yards as he sees the nervousness of the raggy below him. After an hour of this we all tire and the small bull heads off and away, up the hill, the 5x5 in line. Once they disappear I begin to breath normal and my heart settles down. I continue my side sloping after 5 minutes of gathering my wits once again...............

[threeunder]

Awesome story!!!!
MORE!, MORE!, MORE!

[wapiti]

.......I walk all of 20 yards and stop to let out a bugle, wonder where the 1st bull is since all of this has occurred. I get an immediate answer once again, he is close. This is quickly followed by an even stronger voice but farther back up the hill. That one sounds like the 1st bull that answered tonight. He must be still up with his cows ready for a fight. I soon hear the mews when the bull close at hand bugles again. He steps out from behind a few trees and I shuffle my feet to get behind my own tree. This one is a 4x4, small yet thick, with no mudding of the hide and very light  colored antlers. Hmm, he acts like he is rutting but yet......... That thought is thrown in the dirt as he continues his approach. He takes a step or two and stops, I mew sweet nothings softly and he takes a few more steps and bugles again. We continue our evening waltz when he stops 30 yards out slightly quartering to me. I do not like the shot at all as most of the target is covered in bone. He takes a few more steps and and stops between two trees at 20 paces away, BROADSIDE! I am at full draw and just ready to relase when he looks right at me. I sometimes think elk have a sixth sense. I hold and hold until I have to let down as SLOWLY as I can. The only exposed part is my waist up as I stand behind a tree with a horizontal branch at about eye level. It must be good cover as he turns and looks ahead again. I quickly draw focused on "the pocket". I settle my breathing and release. Everything looks perfect UNTIL the arrow gets near the mark. He is 7 feet (measured with my arrow) behind and directly between two trees with smallish twigs/branches above his back. The arrow veers sharply up and to the left and strikes him very high and slightly forward over his shoulder. I quickly and instinctively look for depth of penetration and there is little. Maybe 4"!!!!!!! WTH? He responds with a quick quarter turn and heads downhill and away on a full run. He spins through the forest like a cutting horse rounding up cattle. That sick feeling returns with a vengeance. I try to remain calm but a fear quickly over comes me and I struggle to push away the thoughts. It is sundown and clouded over so the timber is dark even with its sparsity. I set my buyt down and wait a few minutes before going to look at the spot where he was hit.........

[wapiti]

More tonight....

[JamesKerr]

[wapiti]

.........21  paces and I didn't drop the bucket in the well! DAMN IT I say to myself. How can this happen twice in one year let alone twice in 3 days? I look at the torn up turf where he once stood and glance back at the two trees he stood between. Yep there it is, a twig of a branch that has to be the culprit. IDIOT! You didn't take the time to use your glass and look at the shooting lane. They hang around your neck in a harness with easy access and completely protected from the elements. I sit down to wait,unload my pack and rummage through to find my bright yellow flagging tape. I am in a downer mood from this situation. I growl some profanities at myself under my breath and then begin my wait..........

[wapiti]

....of a little over 20 mins. I am going to follow the trail and decide what I want to do. I follow his tracks and mark them every few feet. When he turns a bit I place a streamer of ribbon from a tree limb. I make about 50 yards and go back to get an angle on his direction. He is heading down as I remember from the shot and slightly less along the side hill than I thought. The ground is moist and he is leaving tracks and turned up duff off the forest floor. I get another 20-30 yards and I run out of light. With a wounded bull I am not going to stumble around in the dark and possibly spook him. I turn back and follow my steps back outand into the open. Cell service is available from atop aand I lean on the fence and call Dan. He has hunted this area more than I and I need his advice. It's late and I disturb his evening but like a true friend he greets my call with enthusiasm. I cry my sad song to him and ask, "Where do you think he will head"? He answers downhill to where most of them feed during the night. "Look around the stock tank. The lower one with the water in it". This gives me hope I can follow up and find him. Once more back to the Jeep. The walk is slow and I demand myself to get out of the funk and think positive. I arrive back at camp and Karen has dinner ready and a warm soul searching fire going in the old military wood stove.

 

[wapiti]

Sleep is difficult as the back is one big spasm. The hip feels like it is welded shut and I am sure I have a misplace my hunting knife, under my left knee cap! The terrain is not bad at all it is just the body is worn out. It speaks louder than I do now. It controls most of my activities. I say yes and it says "I don't think so Tim!" As usual I stretch and moan as I get up. Karen HANDS me a cup of coffee, She is a sweetie for sure. I think she even sweetened it by stirring the creamer with her finger of pure sugar. My spirits arise now as well and I am ready to face the day. I step outside for air and it is WET!! WET EVERYWHERE. REAL WET! It had rained that night at some point and brought REAL water to the area.  I make sure I have my rain jacket stuffed in the top of my fanny pack, kiss the "woman" goodbye and fire up "Rusty", ease the clutch out and I am off. The clouds are low and thick and I wonder why it rained so much. I sit in the Jeep and ponder the forecast before we left home. No rain in the forecast just cool and cloudy. I think, a sprinkle yes but....oh well. I can't change things and wrap the jacket around me and begin another days journey. One I hope ends soon with my finding the bull. I cross the fence and head right to "the spot". Following the flags I can find no tracks. They should be with in a foot of the surveyors tape but they are not there. Puddles of water everywhere. Ok lets get right to it, I think. I make a long zigzag march and find nothing. Not even a magpie barking it's annoying call. I walk back and grab the tape littering this special place. I head down hill to the tanks. I watch from a short distance for a long time. Scanning the area with my binoculars I look everywhere for signs of death. Nothing shows so I decide to do a "walk about" of where he may have gone. I reach the bottom, have found zilch and head up to side hill my way back. I know this is not the ending I wanted but I have to accept it. Failure is a bitter pill to swallow at times. This is one of those moments. It's around 1 PM and time for a snack back at camp.

[wapiti]

I eat a sandwich and rest my legs and back. 4 more ibuprofen settles with the lunch. The day has turned into an overcast chill accompanied by a sporadic drizzle/mist. Silk and wool is the name of the game now. Not heavy drag you down amounts but fight the chill and dampness kind.I stay warm enough and hope the weather holds and I can get out one more time. Late afternoon arrives with a mist in the air. It's enough to make me wet if out in it for long but not so much to keep me from hunting. I gather up my things and roll up the hill one last time before we have to leave..... So I am back in the same spot and no tracks and no sounds. I speak the best language I know to entice ANY elk to respond. SILENCE is the result. Something says to turn around and I do so slowly as there are bears around here. NOPE! It's a spike! His eyes bugged out he gets closer and closer wondering what the heck is going on. He stops outside of 30 yards and I enjoy the action. Finally he has had enough and walks away up and off into the forest. I am sure he is unhappy no one was there. Sundown has occurred and the hunt is over, or so I think. I hit the edge of the trees and behold a cow and a spike. She is a young one it appears and worth the effort to get close enough. I only move when the heads are down. I get around 35 yards and she is broadside munching on some sedge's. I don't even nock an arrow. I am wet and cold. My fingers are stiff and tight like a braided wire cable. 10 steps will be maximum and they are a long way from that. The only tree available is now between us so all I can do is sit and wait it out. It soon becomes too dark to shoot and I step out. Heads lift in surprise and I take a step. The pair walk back to the fence and leap  it with almost no effort, easily clearing the top wire. They continue to the trees and stop and stare as I walk along. 50 yards and a spike stands aside the trail. He trots to the fence and leaps it in stride. The now shadow that was an elk stops at timbers edge and watches as I continue my walk to the rig. Tomorrow we pack up and head home. If ever I had a success this was the year. The drive back is slow as I savior the hunt I so hoped for.

[wapiti]

-I hope you enjoyed the hunt. I sure did!!!

[wapitirod]

I wouldn't write things off yet, I also have stenosis as well as 5 levels fused and number six on the way.  The doc says I have the most aggressive arthritis she's ever seen.  I've been fighting it since I was 22 when I had an injury but for the past 10yrs it's gotten extremely bad with a total of 7 back surgeries in as many years.  The docs say this will be a continuing pattern because as we have to fuse one level the next takes the load and so far none have lasted longer than a year after a fusion.  I've also had three wrist surgeries and 6 tears in my right shoulder repaired.  I quit bowhunting in 04 and hadn't been able to draw a recurve for a few years before that so I went back to gun hunting. I've killed several bulls since then and sometimes it's meant resorting to road hunting and of course with a gun but I switched from rifle to pistol.  Last year I took my 72# Brack out just to see what would happen and to my amazement I was shooting like I'd never stopped and I was drawing the bow easier than I ever remembered.  I made a point of it this year that I was getting out of the truck and back in the woods with my recurve and I did.  I was on 5 different bulls although I didn't get a shot.  The coastal mountains of OR are probably the worst in the lower 48 to traverse, the only positive point is you have oxygen.  There are several guys on here that can affirm how rugged these mountains are.  I would just hunt on  my own terms, I'd find areas I could navigate and I normally had my wife with me just in case something happened or if I needed help getting an animal out.  I also have people I can call if I get one down in a bad spot.  I hope this gives you some encouragement, I should also mention I was permanently disabled in 07 at the age of 39.  I've had to use canes and walkers at times and even been reduced to crawling.  I have lost roughly 25% of the strength in my right leg but I refuse to quit.

[Bowhunter4life]

Your passion for the hunt is obvious, thank you for taking us along...

[wapiti]

Hoping more get to read the story posted above. I still smile thinking about the fun I have had through the years in the woods. This one didn't turn out as I had hoped but none the less was particularly sweet for me.

[Canyon]

That was a great story and mirrored our Elk hunt here in AZ. We had some very similiar experiences that ultimately resulted in no Elk coming home but great fun.

BTW I recall you had a warm weather cap you were selling in addition to the ones shown in your link. Are they still available?

[wapiti]

I quit making the knit caps as they were not popular enough to warrant stocking the material.
Kent

[knobby]

Thanks for the story. Any of us that have been at it very long have walked in those same shoes. Few things are worse than a "lost" animal, but only because we pour so much of ourselves into our bowhunting. It's who we are, and what makes us whole. It's obvious that your heart cares deeply for "doing the right thing" for our sport. Don't ever change that.
   I have a feeling you're not done yet. You have a very supportive wife, and a passion that will motivate you during your rehab.
   Good luck with your health and looking forward to next season's story from you.