Fishing kind of dropped off for a lot of people this September, which probably caused a lot of folks to either cancel trips or put them off until the weather cooled off. Honesty, I had really good days in August and September so I think a lot of the fear was from all the perception that the water was too warm and the weeds were too bad to catch fish. That perception came from guides that never left the dam. The reality was that fishing was good down low as long as you were willing to work for it and you never saw another boat. In the end, the down-turn of trips allowed me to spend some time up in the mountains. (BTW, I was busy early and have stayed relatively busy even through the first part of November so I'm up from last year. The time off in September was a blessing.)
The first weekend of bow-season I brought Jill out for a little early hiking and calling for elk. I didn't expect to really get into any because it had been so warm. The first morning we had a spike come within about 60 yards barking at us. We heard a few others we thought might be smaller bulls but for a first morning, I think she had a blast. The second morning we found a couple mature bulls bugling in a drainage and was able to get in pretty close before they moved off. No shots were taken but it was awesome to be able to get one all fired up. The bugles echoing down the drainage early in the morning is something everyone should get to experience.
I went back to that drainage a couple weeks later when I figured the bulls would be really hot and more susceptible to cow calls. I found that same bull but this time he was with cows. As I got close I worked my cow call on him but before I could get a look, he went silent and moved out taking his cows with him. I was a little disappointed and wondered if it was my cow called that turned him off so I went to town after getting out of the woods and bought a new call.
Later that evening I headed out to a place I had hunted last year. When I got there, I didn't see much for sign and thought something had pushed any elk that were there out weeks ago. But I hiked for a little while anyway and kept calling with my new call just trying to get comfortable with it. At some point I felt like it was sounding pretty good and was validated by bull bugling at me from about a quarter mile away in some aspens at the bottom end of a long park.
I skirted the park along the trees on the high-side looking down to where I was hearing the bull. I worked quick to try to get to a position where I thought the bull might come. I wasn't all that confident he would since it seemed like the bulls I've encountered earlier were more interested in taking their cows and running. As I got closer he bugled again but this time it sounded really close--he was looking for me...
I decided to get into position by a small sapling and get my face mask out just in case he came up into the park. Before I could even pull the mask over my head I looked across the park, which was only about 75 yards, and saw antlers pot up above the sage. "Fuck!" I thought as I dropped to a knee, dropped my mask and knocked and arrow.
I was right out in the open and he was coming quick. I didn't want him to see my face so I set my bow up in front of me to break up my silhouette a little. He bugled and chuckled with his head rearing back and then turned to look directly at me.
There's always this point in time when encountering such an animal when all these emotions and thoughts shoot through you and it all seems so surreal. I really didn't think he would come out like he did because it never works like you see on TV but he did. And the few times I have had bulls do exactly what they should, they're usually just rag horns--this one was a big 6-by-6; old bull that probably was a little past his prime and now was just looking for random cows he could breed. He had one tine busted off and looked like he had gotten his ass kicked a couple times. I couldn't take my eyes off him but at the same time, I was trying to hide behind my bow and not make eye contact. He was staring at me from about 65 yards away and I could tell he was trying to figure out what I was and if he should continue to investigate.
I didn't move and it was all happening so fast I couldn't even get nervous. The bull grunted and chuckled and then put his head down and quartered toward me. He got to 50 yards, then 40, 30, 25, and then it seemed like he was going to walk right over the top of me. He turned a little and started walking past me. The sapling I was kneeling next to was now between us so I turned to get a shot. When he cleared the tree I drew back and immediately he spooked. He took a few long strides and stopped to look back. He was about 45 yards and standing broadside.
I have the same bow I've been shooting since 1993. I've shot deer with it and have already shot two bulls out here with it; one of which was the bull from a couple years ago I shot that scored a net 306 1/2. One of my buddies calls it an antique and I've also had people refer to it as an anchor. Both bulls I've shot were within 15 yards and the biggest one was only seven yards. At that distance I could be shooting them with a re-curve and because of how busy I typically am during bow-season, I just haven't been able to justify spending a grand on an upgrade to only be able to use it a couple times a year.
A couple years ago I went to carbon arrows, which increased my speed and distance so this summer I put a 40 yard pin on my sites and practiced quite a bit at that distance. This bull was about 45 yards--right at my limit. I drew back and put the pin at the top of his back. I felt good about it. I felt like my arrow would drop right into his vitals. There was no wind. He was broadside standing out in the middle of the park. I had been practicing. It was all good. I touched the trigger on my release and let the arrow fly.
There are a lot of variables to bow hunting. I had accounted for most but not all. The bull was about 45 yards but was also a little down-hill. Had I accounted for that, I would have probably been better off ranging him at around 35 yards because my arrow sailed right over his back. He turned and headed out and I was left panting and shaking and cussing under my breath.
I pulled it together pretty quick and hit my cow call. I was shaking so bad all I could get out was a sound that resembled a cow elk having a seizure. It was enough to stop him though and as I caught my breath I was able to call him back to about 65 yards. I ranged him and again, he was out in the middle of the park standing broadside and although I thought about it, I knew that for me 65 yards was too much so I watched him walk away--bugling and grunting at me basically telling me he was done and I wasn't going to get another chance that night.
Regardless of the outcome, bow-hunting during the rut for elk is probably the coolest thing a person can do. It's not the kill so much as the interaction with the animals. This was a very success hunt for me and I was stoked to be able to get back out the next morning. Stay tuned.
Keep 'em where they live...
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