CO 2013 - "DON'T COME HOME WITHOUT AN ELK"

[Bryan pinick]

More!!!!

[DarkTimber]

I couldn't believe this was happening so quickly. I mean this was the first day, the first 30 minutes.  This was supposed to be a day for acclimation and setting up camp. But hey, here I was and I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As the bull stepped into a clearing I was finally able to see his antlers.  I didn't spend much time looking at them but I could tell he wasn't the herd bull but a satellite bull coming in to steal a cow.  Still, he appeard to be a nice 5pt and I had no intensions of passing on him. This was not a premium tag or limited entry area, this was a heavily hunted, over the counter area and I knew from past experience it typically took 7-10 days of hard hunting to produce one good oportunity at a bull within stick bow range. If that opportunity came on the first day or the last day I needed to take advantage of it if I didn't want to be eating tag soup, and if I wanted to go home!

The bull stood for a moment looking around then he began moving my way coming from left to right.  He stopped about 30 yards out shielded by brush. After about a 10 second pause he continued on looking for the cow to my right and below me.  I knew a shot was imminent.  I scanned ahead of him and found an opening between two Aspens at about 25 yards. I tightened my grip on the string and began telling myself,  "shoulder up, solid bow arm, pick a spot, keep pulling.....shoulder up, solid bow arm, pick a spot, keep".....THUUNNGG.  The arrow zipped through him so fast I didn't even see where it hit, but heard the unmistakable sound of the impact. The bull jumped ahead about 10 yards and stopped looking back at me, he had no idea what just happened. I already had another arrow on the string but I didn't dare move as he was burning a hole through me. He was now standing at about 35 yards and shrubs between he and I blocked his entire body.  All I could see was his head and neck.  I knew the trajectory of my arrow would clear the shrubs. Judging by the position of his neck he appeared to be quartering away. As soon as he turned his head away from me I came to full draw, picked an imaginary spot on the shrubs where I thought his vitals were and the shot was off. The flight looked perfect clearing the shrubs and again I heard the hollow sound of impact. The bull bolted for about 75 yards then all was silent.

The bull was between the closest Aspen tree in the middle of the photo and the one to the right of it on the first shot and was behind the shrubs on the far right side of the photo on the second shot

 

[Cyclic-Rivers]

   

[DarkTimber]

As soon as the bull left, I immediately knew I had made a huge mistake on my first shot.  Everything had happened so fast and I was so focused on the shot I had forgotten to stop the bull and shot him walking. If I had shot at the spot where I was looking my shot would have been much too far back on a walking elk at 25 yards.  I instantly got that nagging feeling in my stomach.

I motioned my bother up to me and replayed what had just happened to him.  I told him I was almost certain my first shot was too far back and was uncertain exactly where my second shot hit. I moved up to where the bull had been at my first shot and found my arrow buried in an Aspen log.  The feathers were covered in blood but the front 8 inches of the shaft confirmed my fears. I followed his tracks to the location of the second shot and found my second arrow buried in the dirt.

 

It was covered in blood and I immediately saw blood on the ground but because we knew my first shot was too far back and didn't know about the second we decided to give him 3 hours before taking up the trail.

[Hawkeye]

I'm loving this hunt!  Great telling of the story.

[subsonic]

Cool story! Thanks for sharing!

[DarkTimber]

The seconds seemed like minutes and the minutes like hours as I tried to occupy myself with anything I could to pass the time as we waited out my bull.  Finally after 3 hours had passed we slowly began following the trail.  The blood was heavy at first and easy to follow as the bull side hilled.  After about 50-75 yards we found two large pools of blood about the size of a basketball then the bull turned up hill.  I knew this was bad news and the blood trail immediately became harder to follow. We followed the trail up the hill for another 100 yards and the blood suddenly stopped.  The nagging in my stomach turned to nausea and disgust.  

The bull was moving up hill in the Aspens but was right on the edge of the dark timber and was only about 150 yards from the top of the mountain. I was almost certain the bull would go into the dark timber so my brother began searching there while I continued to look for blood. My search was fruitless, it was if somone had closed a valve and the blood was completely shut off. After a couple hours I finally realized there was no more blood to find and I began helping my brother search the dark timber and blow downs.  After several hours of combing we hadn't located so much as a hair. Finally my brother said what I had known all along but refused to believe.  "Aaron, without blood our chances of finding the bull in this country are like finding a needle in a hay stack". Disgusted in myself, we headed down the mountain and back to the truck. The 2-1/2 mile walk back seemed to take forever as I beat myself up the whole way.

[dhermon85]

And then...

[South MS Bowhunter]

And then what?

[Shan]

DarkTimber, Awesome storytelling, can't wait to hear the rest. Hope it turns out well for you!

[DarkTimber]

As we pulled back into camp my brother asked "What's your plans for this afternoon" but he already knew the answer.  "I'm going to finish setting up camp then I'm going back to find my bull" I said.  "Ok, I'll go with you and help".  I knew he'd be right there looking with me until I called it quits. Good hunting partners are like that and I'd been fortunate enough to be born with one of the best a guy could ask for. I knew two people searching would be better than one, but the truth is I just wanted to be alone.  So I told him to go hunting, I didn't want to waste any more of his time. He reluctantly agreed as he helped me finish setting up camp.

 

 

 

[False Cast]

Thank you for the story. You write well. I'm excited to read the rest.

[DarkTimber]

As soon as camp was set up I drove back to where I'd shot my bull and started the aready familiar hike in. As I climbed it seemed much tougher this time since I had alread put in 6 or 7 miles and this was the first day.  As I finally aproached the spot I'd shot the bull my legs felt like Jello.

I sat down to rest for a minute where the shot had occured, then with a clear head I began following the blood trail again.  Except this time I didn't have to look at the groud to look for blood, I already knew where it was.  Instead, I was paying attention to the direction of travel and trying to let the trail tell me where the bull wanted to go instead of me telling myself where I thought he should go.  As I followed the trail it was clear he was moving up the hill and to the left into the thick overgrown Aspens, not to the right into the dark timber like I'd suspected earlier. I stopped at the last blood and then intead of turning into the dark timber I turned toward the Aspens. About 20 yard from the last blood I found a track that appeared to be from my bull, then further on a couple more, but still no blood.

By now I could see the bull was heading back the direction he had come from that morning.  The problem was it was near the top of the mountain allowing so much sun to hit the hill side that the Aspens and brush were so thick you could barely see 5 yards. I'd literally have to almost step on the bull to find him.  Still, I had a new sense of hope and enthusiasim.  It was time to start sifting hay!

It was now about 5:00 in the afternoon and the thermals were coming up.  I knew I'd smell the bull long before I saw him in this thick country so I decided to start at the top of the mountain and work my way down until I covered the entire mountain side.  I made it to the top and hadn't  gone 100 yards when the smell of bull elk stopped me in my tracks.  Almost at the exact same moment the bull stood out of his bed 20 yards away.  He was slightly quartering toward me and an 8 inch Aspen was running right behind his shoulder. I knew I couldn't get both lungs with his body angle but if I hugged the shoulder I could get one lung and the liver and knew that would put him down quickly.  I also knew he was about to bolt and if that happend I'd never find him again.  There was no pre shot routine this time, in fact I don't even remember nocking an arrow.  All I remember is leaning out to clear the Aspen tree and seeing a dried up bloody spot on his side to confirm it was my bull.  The next thing I remember was the nock disappearing right where I was looking and seeing the arrow hanging by the fletching as he turned to run.

He crashed down the hill about 75 yards then all was silent again.  I sat down, emotionally spent.  I was almost certain of the outcome this time but decided to give him an hour just to be safe.  The blood trail was not difficult to follow this time and as I approached the last spot I could hear him I looked up and saw him laying against an Aspen. It was finally over!

There was no whooping or hollering, no back slapping or fist pumping.  I gently laid my bow on him, brushed his hide and thanked the Lord for giving him to me. I didn't feel like I deserved him.

 

[jsparky93]

There is no doubt that you DID deserve that bull!  Congratulations & thanks for the great story.

[DarkTimber]

It was now about 6:30 and I only had about an hour and a half until dark and I had a lot of work in front of me. I pulled out my camera and mini tripod to capture the memories and to share with my hunting buddies on Trad Gang and quickly took some pictures.

 


As soon as the pictures were taken and my tag was finally on him, I began preparring him to feed my family.  Within an hour and a half I had all the meat off and in game bags. I used some small Aspen limbs to make a rack to keep the bags off the ground and allow it to cool. It was supposed to be in the low to mid 30's that night and I knew the meat would be in great shape the next morning.  I stacked 3 of the bags on the rack and strapped the 4th containing a hind quarter to my pack.  I shouldered the pack just as it was getting dark, the weight felt good!  I turned on my headlamp and started down the mountain.  The good news was it was all down hill.  The bad news was the first half mile was damn near straight down and thick. When I finally reached trail at the bottom I felt like I was home free although I still had over 2 miles of trail to go.

As I strolled down the long, muddy trail my mind drifted off to someplace else, suddenly a willow bush caught my boot sending me face first into the mud, landing on my bow. The 80+ pounds on my back pushed me down into the mud and I struggled to get back to my feet.  I finally got back vertical and looked over my bow.  Other than being muddy it was no worse for the wear. I continued on paying more attention as I went.  

When I finally reached the truck it was a couple hours after dark.  I let the tail gate down then backed up to it setting my pack on it and letting it take the weight off my shoulders, I unstrapped the waste belt and unshouldered the pack. I laid back in the bed of the truck covered in blood, mud, and sweat, looked up at the stars and smiled from ear to ear. What a day!

[Hawkeye]

Great perseverance.  That's the way we SHOULD do it.  Congrats on a fine trophy, fairly won!

[monterey]

That's a great story and very nicely told!  Thanks for posting it.

[DarkTimber]

The next morning my bother and I were back before daylight to finish getting the meat out.  We decided one heavy load would be better than having to come back in twice so we split the meat in the third bag between us (he took more as usual)and we finished what we had started 24 hours earlier.  As we were packing down the mountain the herd bull fired a bugle from the other side. I tipped my hat and continued on.
 

Packing out a HEAVY load!

 

 


My brother with the last load and the antlers.

 


And a couple more random pics

 

 

 

 


For those interested, I was using a 62" Tall Tines recurve pulling 58 lbs at my 29" draw and was shooting Easton Axis 340 arrows and Abowyer Wapiti broadheads.  Total arrow weight was 595 grains.  

Thanks for tagging along!

[Spitz2]

great !
congrats man !

[hitman]

That was a fabulous story and a great hunt. Thanks so much for sharing your adventure with us. Really nice bull and a great job not giving up. I think bowhunters are so good at not giving up that they recover more game than gun hunters.