Well I’m home, Lori just told me that she didn’t get a chance to do the blog today, being Wednesday. I’m writing most of this today but some also Thursday am. I can understand her missing a day or so as she’s been a busy busy girl.
It was a great 5 or 6 days. It was tough hunting as the rut (the mating season) was supposed to be in full swing, but really hadn’t hit yet. It all has to do with the lunar cycle and according to the stars, should have been going on. Until this happens, the bulls don’t really respond to calls which makes finding them really really tough.
Anyhow, we arrived last Friday around 1pm. After unloading our gear, we broke out our rifles to make sure they were still sighted in from the ride with a few practice shots. Sure enough, Luke and I, (and I’m not bragging here) are always the best shots in camp, as we’re good out to 400 yards or 4 football fields. However shooting off a rest in a field is a lot different than shooting in the mountains through trees, in low light, at a elk the size of a horse which is 4 football fields away. More on this later.
The other guys in camp were Dave and Chuck from Oklahoma, who were both my age, although they seemed a lot older. Then we had 3 guys from California who were mid to late 40’s who were in commercial real estate brokers in San Francisco. They too were regular guys who were super nice. Two of them were bow hunting for the first three days before switching to rifles.
Our camp cook, Connie, who’s all of about 4’10”, had dinner ready for us and the guides. Luke and I were the only guys who had been there before but when you’re out in the middle of the mountains with no phone service or internet, you all get to know each other pretty quickly. She likes us a lot and was glad to see us. Her husband died years ago and she really has no money. She cooks in hunting camps each Fall for the cash and tips which we always give her at the end of the week. She also sends me home every year with fresh cookies for the boys and gave us both a big hug.
Each morning, we’d get up at 4am which always came early, and after getting ready, we we’d be out the door by 5am. We’d then hunt until about 9 or a couple hours after daylight, and then head back for breakfast. Then we’d rest until 3 or 4pm when we’d have a snack, get ready and leave and hunt until the sun went down around 8pm. Once back in camp, dinner would be waiting for us. This scenario would be repeated every day for the entire 5 days meaning we’d hunt 10 times.
I was with my buddy Chuck who I met last year, who lives in Steamboat when not guiding, for the whole 5 days. Turns out his neighbor is a guy named Mike Hodder who I went to Junior High and High School with, small World. The last night (Tuesday) we took Shamus who is from Montrose, with us. Turns out, for me, it took me until Tuesday night to get my bull. We had one guy bag his on the second day, then a couple the next day and so on. If I didn’t get one that night, I could have, and would have, hunted again Wednesday morning and if necessary, again that night. (Wednesday if you’re reading this Thursday am) I must have walked 30 or more miles again during the 4 days, as we averaged about 6 to 8 miles a day. This doesn’t sound like a whole lot but over half of it is up hill! Chuck did step on a ground hornets nest about 3 days in and of course when they swarmed, they went right after me. I was bit on the left hand and left tricep. My hand still itches really bad and it’s been 3 days or more.
With my bull, we set out at 5pm, drove the pickup truck while towing the 4 wheeler on a trailer, about 20 minutes down the dirt road. I know this road really well as I’ve been up and down it for 2 years in a row now. When we got to where we were going to hunt (there’s 8 or so different named areas on the ranch) we unloaded the wheeler, jumped in and drove as far up in the mountains as we could before we started walking. The three of us jumped out around 5:20 pm and 60 minutes later had hiked and climbed about 3000 feet in elevation to an area called Sue’s pond. We then set up watching a couple of trails waiting for it to get darker. After 20 minutes, Shamus said “let’s go”. I didn’t know what he had in mind but he’s a pretty darn good hunter so off we went. After climbing another 1500 feet or so though some bogs and ferns (which are weird at 9000 feet high) we started moving slowly down towards a few ponds. Seconds later Shamus whispered “stop”! Somehow this kid who must be in his early 40’s, saw 2 bulls and 7 cows (females) about 500 yards down the hill behind some ferns. I set up and tried to find the bulls through my scope. I could barely see them with the naked eye and finally found them in my scope. The problem was the bull had his ass facing me as if to say, well, you know what. It would have been unethical to take that shot plus I would have ruined the meat had I hit him. I held steady waiting for the bull to turn but he wouldn’t. Finally he turned just his neck towards me looking over his shoulder. After focusing my eyes, I squeezed off a shot. “Bam” went my 6.5 Creedmoor hunting rifle. Shamus quickly said, “your high” meaning my shot went over the top of him. I lined up and took another shot and thought I hit him but he didn’t flinch. Now sometimes these big animals don’t flinch and even run off after being hit. 10 seconds later, the second bull who was spooked, turned to run off. Then my bull and the cows, sensing something was up, followed. I didn’t want to take another shot for fear of wounding him and having him run off where I wouldn’t find him, so I let him go.
With 30 minutes of daylight left, we beat it down the hill to look for blood. It was so boggy and full of vegetation, it was hard to see, but we finally concluded I didn’t hit him. (Although I still think I did) So now I was bummed thinking I blew it. It would have been a really incredible long shot as it was through trees and downhill and a long ways away, but I’ve made shots like that before.
Shamus, telling I was bummed, said “shake it off and let’s go, we still have 30 minutes of light”. We soon found another trail and picked it up heading down towards what we call 3 Ponds. You see at night, the elk come out to feed, after being bed down all day, and always look for water. As we eased down the trail, the light was fading fast. Around a bend, we spotted a cow and a calf in a meadow, but no bull. We waited for a minute or so as the bulls usually follow the cows and calves but no one else came out of the woods. We then heard a bugle which is a bull calling cows. We all looked at each other and Shamus said, “he’s at 3 Ponds”. I looked at my watch and knew the sun would set in 7 minutes and I’d be out of shooting light. We literally ran down the trail being as quiet as possible. As we got close, Shamus laid down on his stomach to look through his binoculars and said “there he is”. I looked with my eyes AND through my rifle scope, and could not see him! After he said “look through those crooked Aspens over that dead tree” I somehow spotted him. This was no easy feat and frankly involved a lot of luck as there were 100,000 crooked Aspens and even more dead trees in the forest.
I couldn’t see his rack (antlers) but Shamus could and assured me that this was the bull we had heard. So, trusting his eyes, I lined up my rifle on his chest, with the sun now set and darkness seconds away, and gently squeezed the trigger sending a shot 200 yards or so down range through the trees, into his left shoulder. He instantly went down. Just to make sure he was not suffering, I lined up another shot and sent that down range too, even though we’d later discover he was done on the first shot. Now, for those of you that don’t like hunting, rest assured, I would never take a unethical shot at an animal (chancing wounding him and having him run off), or let him suffer. To me, and all hunters, they are a sacred gift, that is hard earned, and they need to be treated as such. I also don’t hunt for any animal. elk or pheasant or whatever, that I don’t eat. I’m not into the trophy hunting thing meaning killing just to kill.
45 minutes later we were on our way out of the mountains with my bull and would be back at the cabin by a bit after 10pm. Turns out Jim from California had also bagged his bull in another area the same night. In the end, as of Wednesday morning when we left, everyone but one guy, had success.
We found out, Dave from Oklahoma was headed to Montrose to hunt deer and Chuck, his best friend, had no way home. To save Dave a trip to the airport in Denver, I said he should ride with Luke and I to Vail and then Luke agreed to take him to the airport in Denver for his 5:30 pm flight home. Luke decided to take him the the Buckhorn Exchange for lunch as it’s a neat place. You see, after 5 days hunting with guys, you share a sort of a bond. We always went there with my Dad for dinner as a kid. I told my Mom we’d have to get back down there one of these days.
In the end, it was a great time, one I look forward to every year. I have to publically thank my lovely bride as she let’s me go which always means a ton of extra work for her. There’s something to be said though for a bunch of guys in a hunting camp in the Fall. It’s just one of those primeval things all men should do. So until next year (or maybe November for a quick deer hunt to the ranch) that’s all for hunting. Bird season, (pheasant, quail and chukar) starts September 15th! Hope everyone is well, take care, God Bless and Go Broncos as we’ll be at the game tonight meaning Thursday (depending on when you’re reading this)!