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| Mid-Summer calf elk needing a friend. |
As you might expect, the dating pool in Montana isn't very expansive. Put the parameters around that pool that consist of my own personality flaws along with having higher than reasonable expectations, a narrowly focused political perspective, opinions, and most of my time doing 'man' things, and my options for finding my soul mate are pretty slim. However, I have met some amazing women, even felt the love for a couple, but much like my archery hunting for the last few years, I just haven't been able to seal the deal. (Many of my long-time clients suggest that I'm more of the 'catch and release' kind of guy. We could spend hours on why I'm still single but...let's not.) So, in an attempt to broaden the pool of eligible women, at some point years ago, I decided to enter the world of on-line dating. Let me just say this; that world is often cruel and heartless and for every ortho-quinone of dopamine produced by a potential match, it's almost always offset by the norepinephrine released from being ghosted by a majority of the women I have connected with. However, I have had some fun and unique encounters, and this is one that will go down in the books as one of the most unique first dates of all time.
I was talking with a gal from Idaho who is originally from Australia. We hit it off through text messaging and eventually talking on the phone. She suggested she should come up and visit and see where things go after meeting face-to-face. The problem was, it was September, and I was just about to start my week of time off to chase elk. Trying not to sound disinterested or rude, I danced around the importance of this time of the year to me and suggested there might be a better time like around the beginning of December... (I didn't suggest December, but I was trying to put this meeting off until at least the end of the elk rut. Funny how one time of the year gets one species crazy horny chasing the opposite sex while another species becomes totally oblivious to mates, even if said mate was half-naked sporting a lace teddy with a beer in her hand and the Packers playing on the big screen in the background.)
The Australian, we'll call her Jenny, was quite persistent and assured me she would love to come hike with me while I chased elk, and she wouldn't screw anything up. She told me she was tough, which she was, as she was raised on a cattle ranch in the Sunburnt Country and can handle her own.
Not wanting to hurt her feelings I agreed but was emphatic about getting here on-time so we could get up in the mountains before it got too late in the evening.
"Ok," I said, "But we have to leave my house by 1 o'clock--no later so please get here on-time."
"I'll be there." She responded. "I promise. Wheels up by one."
Jenny rolled into Helena around 1:40 pm. For those of you that know me, I'm super annal about being on-time--especially when it comes to hunting and/or fishing. I don't make the rules. I don't control how the sun moves across the sky or what time elk decide to wake up and do their thing. I am, however, hyper-aware of the timeframe for getting opportunities at elk and that window only comes once a year for a very brief time.
As Jenny knocked on the door, my inner-dialog was in the middle of a sort of UFC battle where a nice guy wanting to cut her some slack for putting in the effort and making the trip was getting destroyed by a goon that had him in a headlock, punching him in the face, scolding him for ever agreeing to this. Meanwhile, elk were most likely bugling up a storm right now while I was there trying to be accommodating to some bimbo because she had a hot body and an Australian accent! (To be fair, she wasn't a bimbo. She may, however, have been aggressively pursuing companionship.)
As I opened the door, I tried hard to hide my anxiety for her being late and welcomed her in. I also tried to explain to her, in a kind way, that we needed to get going. I guess she either didn't see the furrowed brow or I was really good at hiding it, because she asked if we might take a few minutes to hang out and then she tried to kiss me.
I side-stepped and asked her what we needed to get out of her truck before we could get going, which you'd think might be deflating for some women. Jenny, however, was as persistent as a bear on a beehive and somehow, my face must have been covered with honey. She came in for another shot and I realized the only way we were going to move past this incredibly targeted advance was to placate and move on.
"Ok, we gotta go." I demanded.
We threw the gear in my truck and headed up into hills. Of course, we wound up trailing another truck going 15 miles an hour. My head was reeling. I just kept cursing myself in my head for caving. I should have just said no but I didn't so I would have to just make the best of it.
We got to my spot where I would normally park, backed the truck into a little turn-out and turned off the ignition. We both strapped on our boot Gaters, I got my pack on and bow sling, double checked my gear, making sure I had my range finder, release and anything else I might need, and we started up the mountain. Figuring we had a little ways before getting to where the elk might be, I explained the importance staying close to me so I could whisper to her if needed, and so that she always knew what was going on in front of us. If I stopped, she needed to stop. If I got down on my knees, she needed to drop down. She needed to be right on my hip.
She did a pretty good job of hiking and was a lot quieter than I expected. We hiked straight up a ridge, and she was able to keep up. Along the top of the ridge, and only about 20 minutes into the hike, I swore I heard a cow elk calling.
"Wait," I said as I put my hand out as a sort of stop sign. "Did you hear that?"
"I think so," she answered.
"I think that's a cow elk right down there below us." I explained.
I pulled my cow call to my mouth and gave out a little, "mee-ewe."
From a couple hundred yards down to the bottom on the drainage, a bull lit up a bugle.
"Shit," I said. "It's right down there. We gotta make a move. Stay right on my hip."
We took off down the ridge at a little quicker pace than what we were at on the way up. I wanted to get down to where the elk were before they moved out. On the way, I caught movement and stopped.
"Fuck," I whispered as we bumped right into a spike elk, which in this area, isn't legal to shoot. "Don't move," I whispered back to Jenny.
The young bull was fixed on us for a few seconds, trying to figure us out. It didn't take long, and he spun and lumbered down the side of the ridge back to where I was sure the rest of the herd was.
"Shit," I whispered to Jenny. "That could be all she wrote."
I cow called again and again the bull bugled back. This time he was much closer.
"Let's get down to the creek bottom," I whispered. "Then we'll call and see if we can't get him to come in. But stay right next to me and if I stop, you gotta stop."
"Ok," she agreed. "This is so cool."
We got to the bottom of the drainage and crossed the creek. There were a few junipers that lined the creek and created a bit of a curtain between us and where the woods opened up into sporadic aspens and lodge poles. I took my bow off its sling and knocked an arrow. I cow called as we peered out from the curtain of junipers.
"Russ," I heard Jenny whisper.
I looked back at her. She was to my left and little behind me.
"What?" I mouthed the word without making it audible.
"It's right there," she half whispered while nodding a gesture towards the bull.
With her vantage point being just off of mine, she could see the bull making his way towards us from our right to our left. It was behind an aspen where she could see it, but I couldn't.
"Just don't move." I whispered.
The bull stepped out in front of us. It wasn't huge but definitely a bull I would shoot. I quickly took inventory of his head gear and was sure I saw five tines on both sides. He hadn't seen us or winded us, but he knew something wasn't right. He turned to walk back to his harem to make sure he kept his cow group intact.
I took up my grunt tube to my mouth, wedged the diaphragm call between my tongue and the roof of my mouth and gave a bugle that wasn't too aggressive, resembling a smaller bull trying to get in on his action.
This either created just enough curiosity for the bull or frustration causing him to turn back to investigate. He walked right back to where he had retreated from just a few seconds before and stopped broadside, well within my bow range.
I drew my bow back, settled the 40-yard pin right behind the bull's shoulder, and gently pulled the trigger on my release. I then watched as my arrow sailed right over the back of this bull. The bull spun as the arrow smacked a log behind him and he busted out of sight.
It was only then that I took the time to do what I should have done before drawing the bow back. I pulled my range finder out and ranged a log the bull was standing next to. The log was only 25 yards out. With the terrain, I was sure this bull was between 35 and 45 yards away. My 40-yard pin should have been the right pin but, I was off, and the bull was gone; fortunately, unscathed.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I whispered with the intervals between the word becoming shorter and shorter with every utterance of it.
"That was incredible," she whispered.
"I missed, though," I said with absolute defeat.
"Yah, but, oh my god....that was so intense."
The "what-ifs" occupied every synapse of my brain for the rest of the hunt. Had I shot that bull, it would have only been a few hundred yards from the truck and downhill the whole way. How easy that would have been? And how crazy would it have been to have to pack this thing out with a woman who had never done anything like that before? A woman I had literally just met a couple hours ago.
That was Jenny and my first and only date. Turns out, she was a bit of an adrenaline junky who had different ways to find her fix that were manifested more through chemicals than experiencing life. We talked a couple times after that but we both knew we had different plans for sharing time with a partner. We both got a good story out of the deal, and I guess should be grateful for that. I also grabbed another box to check on the ever-growing inventory of characteristics I should be screening for in the dating scheme.
Well, it's another day and the 2024 archery season is about to come to a close. I better get out there chasing another story. By the way, keep tuned in for another dating story that ends with a much better outcome.
Keep 'em where they live...
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