Pictures to follow after the season. But wanted to begin the thread anyway.
On the third day of the season and pre-flood I hiked into a basin above tree-line. It was now 2PM by the time I had made it through a mile of black timber from the trail to treeline. Trust me, old growth timber is no easy walk and a mile can take a long time (3hrs for me this section)
Since the thermals were gong up, I decided to set up a bivy camp and wait. Around 2:30 I heard the first bugle. Great, an outfitter is in the basin too I thought.
The bugles sounded just too textbook, some delivered right after another and all from the same spot. Classic rookie calling mistakes. Oh well.
I waited until the thermals reversed and headed up the basin. The bugles were just as regular as a mentronome. As I was wondering to myself what we would say to one another when I walked into the outfitters setup, I looked up to see a nice 5x high necking me from about 100yds away.
Ooops! Busted!
But the youngster was not of the deep thinking variety (yet) and he let me get away with just being there.
I decided to hunt him in the AM as the light had faded.
Bugles all night and WOW I never knew one little bull could make so many different sounds.
In the morning I was into the basin first light. Eventually I decided to return to camp and break it down to re-spike up high where I could glass the area, saving myself a lot of up and down hiking.
Big mistake.
By 10AM I was back up into the basin with all my gear. I looked over my right shoulder and saw 3 bull elk walking away across a rock stubbled slope. The last in line was a nice 6x6. Mister in the middle was an honest 350 class animal. The leader, covered from nose to tail and antlers too in a gray dried mud, looked like a ghost elk. He was a third larger than even the 350 class bull in body mass and his antlers took my breath away. The main beams easily as large as my forearms- not an expert judging big bull elk but I have only seen a few pictures of elk this big and they scored near the 400's.
Anyway, they were on their way out of the drianage. No chance to dog them, as I was at the ethical limit of my range in getting one out without meat loss already. Besides, ever try to dog elk that know you are there in open country?
Not possible.
I thought to myself, there go all the bulls in this drainage.
But around 1:30pm A bull gave his location call in the only timber just above my new spike camp. He eventually came down with his group of spikes and cows. I named him "red antler" for his red stained 6x rack. He was a nice herd bull and liked to talk. He took his group back up the mountain- one cow had got my wind and spooked, but he never did and only reacted to her, not to me.
That evening he/they came down the mountain again, red antler bugling every 30 seconds or so. It was thrilling! I stalked to within 50 yds when he stopped to thrash a bush, but ran out of cover. In the end I had to watch him go as the light faded and the group headed into the open sloped basin. Bull 2, me 0.
Next morning was easy to be up in the dark and hunting by light. Thats the nice thing about a spike camp. Six steps away from your sleeping bag and you are in the middle of elk country that takes 8 hours of hard hiking to reach.
I worked my way up the basin and found a spot to re-water. As I was about to fill my bottle six cow elk busted out of the weather stunted spruce above me in a rattle of rock and hoofs. They saw me I saw them and they went for cover and so did I. ****!
I waited, the wind was perfect right in my face and I knew they were still right there just a few yards away behind the thick cover.
Soon enough more rocks and hoofs and here comes two velvet covered spikes, followed by guess who? Mister red antler herd bull himself.
And I had him perfect too.
12 yrds, broadside. Just one step forward and his heart in the shooting lane.
But he never made that fatal last step.
I was at full draw, he was looking calm and then the spikes got my scent from the spot I had just vacated 3 or 4 minutes earlier. When the spikes spooked, the herd bull went full alert. My slight shaking and movement(by this time) behind my cover was enough to send him high gear. He then picked up my scent too and that sealed the deal for good.
Those elk in that basin had enough.
Wow! What a great experience and a great way to spend part of your life- above tree line in the American West, alone with the bulls and under the skies of the wilderness.
The next 5 day hunt was in the wet. Wool came through and I was warm and happy, if not exactly dry, but no elk. My 1978 Mitchell truck camper I had rebuilt was a haven at night- heat to dry out and a three burner stove with oven, dble bed over cab... Pretty nice to listen to the rain when you are warm and dry and cornbread is baking in the oven.
My sympathy to those who lost homes and loved ones in the flood below however, though until I came down I knew of none of the disaster.
More later.
Joshua
Topic: More Colorado Elk hunting.... (Read 718 times)
