Charma has to be Running Out

So Saturday I was fortunate to have a short day on the river and since it's the second week of bow season, I figured I'd take a couple hours and hike up to a spot I hadn't really checked out before. I knew I would have a few days off in the coming week so I wanted to do a little scouting beforehand. I also had Sunday off so if I did get into elk, I would have options. I had yet to hunt this year and given the fact that September is usually my busiest month on the river, I would take every opportunity to go out when I could.

I parked my rig and hiked about 2 miles up into some national forest land before I ran into some tracks on the trail. I had checked out a wallow about a 1/4 mile back and did some cow calling with no response. Feeling like there might be elk around, I put on my camo coveralls and started glassing the parks about a 1/2 mile away. Within 30 seconds I heard a bull whistle one time; real low and not very long. "Holy shit," thought. He was close so I knocked an arrow and got my release out and walked about 30 yards up the trail.

I thought I hear a cow squawk so I looked up the ridge. This bull was walking right to me. I didn't call to it or anything and it was walking right at me. At 15 yards and quartering towards me, I drew back. It went behind a tree so I let my bow down. At 10 yards it started walking parallel to the trail I was standing on. I walked with it at full draw and picked out an opening in the trees. When it entered, I let the arrow fly.

The bull ran about 5o yards and I cow called and it stopped. Standing there, I watched it for a couple minutes and it walked away. Knowing I didn't put the best shot on it, I found where it was standing, found a good pool of blood and then backed out. The next day, one of the outfitters I worked for went up there with me and we found the bull lying dead about 100 yard away. I literally hunted about an hour and a half this bow season before shooting this guy. I realize how lucky this is and if you have followed my blog, you'll remember my first bull with a bow was even luckier. Crazy.

We did have to work to get him out though. We caped him and boned the quarters and back straps and three of us packed it out. (Thanks Joe Bloomquist and John La Rue.) I had to take two trips and I have to say, I can't remember being physically pushed that hard in my life. Next time I'm shooting a cow.

Keep 'em where they live.