About 15 years ago I drew my first archery bull tag in AZ. I was hunting a unit that is insanely popular, but also full of elk. The unit contained a quiet area (no motorized vehicles means no hunting pressure) so I decided to hunt there. After months of scouting I had located a wallow that was being hammered all day. It was 3 miles in from any rd. So opening morning I hiked in and set up well before sunrise. The bulls were going nuts and I knew it was going to be a great morning. Several small bulls came in just after first light and I passed on shooting one. Around 11am it started to get hot and it sounded like the bulls had all bedded. Just as I thought about leaving I caught some movement about 100yds up the drainage. As the bull came through the trees I could see that he was a massive old 5x5 with the body of a horse. He was covered in dried mud. I grabbed my bow (compound) and got ready. The bull was about 60yds and closing. Just then I saw an odd looking stick appear from the backside of a large blown down ponderosa pine. The bull stopped dead in his tracks and I saw a red and white fletched arrow bury into his side. He ran 50yds right in front of me and dropped. The owner of the odd looking stick appeared and walked up to the elk. I gave a whistle and let him know I was there. We talked for a bit and I was pretty in awe of his bow. He was using wood arrows and green two blade head. On my way back to camp that night I couldn't get outta my head how cool it was to hunt with that stuff. I killed the next day off of the same wallow. I've finally made the switch to trad and really want to go back there and see if I can do what he did.
Topic: Cool story I don't get to tell much (Read 333 times)
