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Sweet and sour 2011 archery elk hunt in unit 1

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Sweet and Sour

The 2011 archery elk hunt was a roller coaster of emotions for my Dad, brother and I. From highs of crazy rutting activity, getting in close and taking three very nice bulls; to lows from stolen elk /trail camera, virtually no rut activity and squatters. I know some of you are scratching your heads or asking yourself "what?" because these are the reactions I'm getting from friends when I tell them about our hunt. Stolen trail cameras are unfortunately becoming common but steeling elk I thought was as rare as the Hale-Bopp comet. Unbelievably this was the second year in a row a bull elk was stolen from us. Yes, I did say the second year in a row. I know there are some of you whom have not been drawn in a while so you may not be feeling all that bad for us but if it was you, well let's just say you would be a little upset. Sadly poor ethics are becoming more and more common place in our archery community and hunters in general. We all need to do more to educate ourselves, others and especially the youth on what good hunting ethics are.

 

I used to hate it when I was stuck listening to an elderly person telling me that "things just ain't how they used to be". I think I am now one of those elderly people, at age forty by the way. I guess I'm just old school when it comes to hunting and respecting other hunters. We scout hard, using valuable time and lots of money to determine our hunting locations and tactics. During the hunt we hunt even harder and respect others when in the field. It seems now there are some "new generation"(not so much youth but just "green") hunters out there whom watch a hunting video or TV show and think "oh ya, that's easy enough" and go out buy a bow or whatever weapon they choose. They get into the field and realize it isn't as easy as seen on the high definition screen. They then resort to following other hunters into the field, stealing cameras/memory cards, stealing someone else's kill or sitting in someone else's tree stands(hence the term squatters).

 

My father once told me that sitting in someone's tree stand without permission was like messing with his wife (no offence to the female hunters). The heat of the moment is more than likely going to get someone hurt. Crimes of passion they were once referred to as. Let's just say that I'm glad it was me who caught this guy in my father's tree stand or things could have got ugly. But I digress and will get into the story of this year's hunt.

 

The scouting started early and often for us. Many trips up north with long hikes and trail cameras spread out from one end of the unit to the other. As the hunt neared we were quickly narrowing our hunting areas down to a hand full. We had some decent bulls on camera along with wolves and lions. We also had a few huge mule deer bucks on camera and a few scouting days were spent on trying to get a shot at one of these monarchs. The day before the hunt I watched a huge heard bull fighting off a smaller 6x6 and a decent 5x5 all while keeping his heard of at least fifteen cows from wandering too far. When this big bull finally came into the clear I was shocked to see a 350 class six point on the right side but he was broke off just below his G3 on the left. Yes, that's right he was already broke off on September 8th! I knew then the rut was rockin! Remember this bull because he will return later.

 

There were LOTS of other hunters all around us. We actually ran into a few people we knew and they were camped not too far from us. There were extra permits in this unit this year and it seemed all of them were hunting where we were. This dampened our spirits a little but not much because we do most of our hunting a long way from the roads. This was pivotal to our success because this year there seemed to be a lot more people driving up and down the roads, stopping calling and then driving again. I don't understand this type of hunting but to each his own. One last thing I will say about this; guys if I can hear your diesel truck from two miles away, everything in the woods does too.

 

Opening day was fairly uneventful. My father passed up a small 5x5 and small 6x6. I never saw an elk, but did hear some bugles and was close to a few. My brother was into them as well but was never given a shot opportunity. My brother was very limited to the amount of days he could hunt and was going to shoot the first decent bull he could get a shot at. My father and I were there for the entire hunt and had our sights set on taking a big bull. More than taking a big bull we just wanted to have a better hunting experience than we did the year before.

 

Last season we were lucky enough to be hunting but one evening I caught up to my dad just after dark where we had predetermined we would meet. He advised me he had shot a bull earlier but that the shot was back. He said he spent a little time looking for blood but then decided to flag everything and let the bull sit overnight. After a long sleepless night we drove into the area where he had shot the bull. As we were driving in I noticed a blue Chevy avalanche parked at the entrance of an old logging road that was closed. Neither of us thought anything of it because it was about a mile away from where we were going to start our track and the last time my father had seen the bull he was headed in the opposite direction.

 

As the sun came up we were on the blood trail. It started out fairly easy to follow, however about a quarter of a mile into it we were losing blood. We at times were down on our hands and knees finding specks of blood. Then my father said"do you hear that?" As I listened I could barely hear a vehicle driving cross country snapping limbs. My father turns to me and said the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard, "they better not be in here stealing my bull!" I literally laughed! I remember telling him how silly that sounded and no one would want to tag a bull they found dead. My father took off running to our left and up the hill. Later we realized too late, we were in a draw and the noise was echoing off the sidewall, therefore sending my father into his panicked run in the wrong direction. As I continued the blood trail it turned and started heading down hill like a mortally wounded elk will do. By the time my father came back out of breath I had stumbled onto the crow covered fresh gut pile. With no other broad head holes in the vitals left behind and the evidence the bull left behind of his bed where he laid and thrashed around before expiring overnight, it was clear to me this person or more than likely persons had stumbled onto this bull that morning. The thieving hunters from the blue Chevy avalanche had walked up that closed road and found the bull which had died not ten feet from that exact road.

 

We were quick to our truck and drove up and down as many roads as we could trying to located the blue Chevy avalanche. The more we drove my father calmed down, conversely I was getting to the point I was seeing red. I knew we would never find the perps because they were probably halfway home, wherever that may have been. We had little to give to the game and fish officer we saw later that day but a very general vehicle description. All I could do was have dreams of the person(s) chocking on the elk meat or a falling mount that gored the sorry thief.

 

As the 2011 season went on it seemed the rut got better and better the first week of the hunt. We were into elk every day and seeing respectable bulls. On the Sunday of opening weekend my brother came back to camp that night to let us know he had struck first. I won't tell the story because I wasn't there and it is his story to tell but after a quick discussion it was decided to take up the blood trail first thing in the morning.

 

At first light we were walking down to where my brother had GPS'ed his shot. We were welcomed with screaming bulls all around us so of course my father and I tried to set up on the closest. The big bull had at least twelve cows with him and was not willing to leave them for our seductive calling. We were able to slip into a hundred yards and get a good look at him. He was a very nice 6x6 and had he made a mistake would have caught an arrow from my dad or I. After listening to him scream at us while walking in the opposite direction we decided to get back to the task at hand. My brother started to show my father where he had shot the bull the evening before. I started following the bulls tracks that were sunk deep into the wet ground where he ran off. No blood just big tracks running away from the shot location and interestingly away from his cows. I knew the bull was hit hard and must be hurt bad to leave his cows so I kept following the easy sign. As the bulls tracks made a sharp turn to the left I noticed he lost his footing and almost went down. I turned to tell my brother this but he was still back looking for his arrow/sign at the shot location. As I made the left hand turn around a stand of jack pines I looked up and smiled. Lying in the middle of the meadow was my brother's bull. He had not gone 150 yards before piling up. Not one drop of blood was ever found, due to the bull bleeding out internally. This was definitely a monster high point in our 2011 elk hunt.

 

With my brother's bull taken care of and him headed home to responsibilities, my father and I were once again hard at it. With the bulls not yet responding to calls we were splitting up either running and gunning or sitting tree stands. I know some don't like to sit tree stands during the rut but we have had lots of success with them during the rut period if you can find out where the elk like to either bed (routes going to or from) or where they like to chase hot cows you can ambush the call shy heard bulls. One afternoon I was set up in just one of those places, a tree stand with trails near a bedding area. The bulls started bugling early at 4pm and sure enough were crossing through this ridge by 530pm. I had a total of nine cows walk directly under me and then down wind. I must say the new cover sent "Final Step®" created in part by Rex Jensen really does work! I had these cows directly down wind and they stopped threw their noses in the air. Then they turned and walked directly under me to my tree. I could hear them smelling all over and even at times it seemed they were pawing the tree I was in. I couldn't look down for fear of spooking them.

 

As the cows wandered around my tree trying to figure out what juniper tree (juniper cover scent) the smell was coming from, I noticed the heard bull coming down the trail screaming at another bull that was getting to close. I was thinking this was going to be it but as he cleared the trees I noticed he was the broken bull I had seen before the hunt started. He was so massive and had great length to all his tines. His thirds were exceptional. I kept telling myself if he wasn't broke I would shoot that bull. He came into an opening and stopped at 12 yards! He looked at his cows that were still trying to figure out where the juniper cover scent was coming from. As the monarch stood there watching his cows sniff around I saw the old bull do something that almost made me laugh loud enough for the cows to hear. The bull laid his head back allowing his massive rack to lay vertical along his back and then I watched him close his eyes. He was taking a power nap! He was basically saying "Ok ladies you figure out what is going on while I catch a few ZZZ's". He did this twice only to open his eyes the second time and the look on his face was Oh ya, hey there ladies. He then started to strut and push one of the cows back into line. He then stopped right under me at 8 yards quartering away. Trust me it was hard to pass this guy up and I even attached my release to the string twice before finally deciding it was just too early to shot this broken fighter.

 

After they left I was starting to think I might have made a big mistake. That was a heard bull and one that even broken was still keeping other bulls from taking his cows. Not twenty minutes later I saw a bull walking down a nearby trail by himself. I figured he was a satellite but couldn't see how big he was and thinking maybe he was the one who broke mister big, I decided to give a few soft cow calls. He snapped his head around and came in on a string. He was a small 6x6 that I guessed to be about 300 or 310 and after passing on the heard bull I was not going to shoot this guy. He walked straight to my tree, under it and then proceeded downwind without as much as even picking his head up. I was sold early on with the cover scent and it was reinforced multiple times throughout the hunt.

 

September 14th will be a day I will go over and over on sleepless nights. My father had been into this area a day or two before and reported two herds using a bench to rut on. With hunting pressure severe I decided to walk the mile and a half into this area to get away from hunters and check out this rutting ridge myself. During my hike before daylight I was rewarded with numerous bulls bugling their heads off. As I approached this ridge I ran into a small heard with a decent bull. I was able to get to within 70 yards but decided the bull wasn't what I wanted. I watched/waited for them to feed off because the bench I wanted to get to was on the other side of this small heard. I could hear at least two deep growling bulls screaming at each other on that ridge. Finally I was able to slip up to the edge and peek over. I was immediately rewarded with several cows and one huge bull. At 200 yards he stood out like a beacon. His sword tines where over twenty inches and his whale tail seemed to touch his rear end when he screamed his threat to a nearby bull. The other bull then materialized to my left and was frantically trying to recover a stray cow. He was able to circle around and take the cow back to his cows farther down the ridge. Mr. Big (guessed him at least 360) screamed his threat to the smaller (340 ish bull) and the smaller bull would scream back.

 

As the two bulls continued to be preoccupied with each other I slowly slipped up to cut the gap. As I got to about 150 yards I heard a cow call to my left. Frozen I thought I was busted due to how close this cow was and being down wind. As I turned to look I was relieved to see two hunters about 80 yards to my left. Not knowing who was there first and me being closer to the two bulls at this point, I decided to continue my stalk. As I continued slowing trying to keep cover between me and all the elk in front of me, I noticed the smaller bull lost his pesky cow again. This cow really wanted to peel off from the smaller bulls heard and go to the bigger bulls. Mr. Big noticed this and started in their direction screaming his warning to the smaller bull. The smaller bull seemed to scream back undeterred by the bigger bull's threats. The smaller bull ran and herded his stray cow back down the ridge and I thought he was avoiding a conflict, oh was I wrong! Just as he got his stray cow back where he thought she belonged, he turned and screamed a bone chilling bugle I have not ever heard. It sounded like his vocal cords would tear apart. Running back up the hill he and Mr. Big began to circle one another posturing. I couldn't believe it, I was about to witness this and knew exactly what to do as soon as it happened. The smaller bull was smarter and waited until his posturing gave him the high ground. He then charged Mr. Big and when they first collided it sounded like a shotgun blast. I was up and running as fast as I safely could with and arrow nocked. I was thinking I was going to run right up to within twenty yards and shoot Mr. Big, however when I was about 70 yards away the smaller bull whipped Mr. Big and pushed him towards my right. I went down to my knees hoping to have enough cover where I was and watched the smaller bull stop and bugle his triumph. Mr. Big was about 50 yards to my right and behind some small jack pines. Mr. Big sat there looking back at the smaller bull probably trying to decide if he had enough for one day. Mr. Big must have decided to go his own way and fight another day because he started walking away to my right. I came to full draw as he cleared the last tree. I cow called and he stopped in the open looking at me at first lazily, and then snapped his head up alert realizing I was not a cow. I shot as he started to run and I watched my arrow hit him a little back.

 

As I sat there in disbelief to what had just happened within the blink of an eye, I was sure my shot, while back, was a solid hit. I figured a liver hit at worst and possibly the back of the lungs. The two hunters I had previously seen came up and congratulated me on the stalk and shot. It turned out they were the people I knew and where camped nearby. As we sat whispering about one of their successful hunts a few days prior, I looked down the draw where the bull had ran, my heart sank when I saw the bull standing. If the hit was as good as I had originally thought he should be down by now. We sat and watched the bull slowly walk and break my arrow off. He then bedded down and my spirits went up a little thinking we could just sit and watch the bull expire. One of the guys whispered as long as no other hunters push him you should be good. He no more than said that and we caught movement down the draw. It was two hunters, the front one stalking my bull with an arrow nocked. I cow called and waved the people off which thankfully they did. As they tried to slip away the bull caught movement and his head snapped up. He then stood and walked up and over the ridge.

 

The range of emotion I felt ran from rage to panic while trying to figure out what my next step was. After thinking about it for a half an hour I decided to mark everything and pull out of the area to give the bull some time. I went back to camp and reported to my dad what had happened. We loaded our packs for the day and headed back to the last point I saw the bull. We searched for hours trying to figure out which direction this bull had went but with no blood and fresh tracks all over this ridge we were getting very frustrated. We decided to split up and start making circles to either cut some sign or find the bull. I originally shot the bull at 7am and it was now near 3pm. I figured we were searching for a dead bull after eight hours but I was wrong. I found him about three tens of a mile from the last point I had seen him walking over the ridge. He was bedded and he saw me as soon as I saw him. He stood and looked at me from about 100 yards. I decided to try to slip in closer and to clear the trees between us to get a second arrow in him. As I was about 80 yards from him the wind changed and he turned and walked out faster than I could keep up with him.

 

Devastated I regrouped with my dad and we discussed our options. As badly as I wanted to try to keep on him the smarter thing to do was to let him sit overnight. This may have been the worst mistake I ever made but at the time seemed the right thing to do in order to keep from running the bull into the next state. If you have ever been in this situation you know what a hard decision this is and sleep that night is nonexistent.

 

The next morning we went back to where I had last bumped the bull. Of course with no blood and tracks everywhere we were back to making small circles in the general direction I had last seen him. We started with small circles and then widened them as the morning sun rose. Around 7am I started hearing crows. My dad was in agreement that my bull had died overnight and the crows had located him for us. I was running most of the way up the ridge where the crows congregated. I was stoked thinking I was about to tag the biggest bull I had ever taken. My dreams were short lived when I got close and noticed the only thing left was a gut pile! I was furious! The second year in a row we have had bulls stolen before we could recover them. I was screaming profanities and starting to follow the drag marks to run down the worthless person that calls himself a hunter. My dad stopped me and wanted to inspect the gut pile to confirm this was the bull I shot. OK why not, it is better to be sure before making false accusations. There were no other wounds in the vitals other than the two blade broad head hole in the bottom of this bulls liver. I was now on a mission to find this person(s). Unfortunately we followed the drag marks to the road where the truck and trailer tire marks were all that was left behind.

 

We spent the rest of the afternoon driving around looking for my bull in the camps nearby. Mysteriously a few camps had pulled out that morning never to be seen again. This person(s) knew someone was going to be looking for this big bull so they left the area as fast as they could. If you are reading this post and I wouldn't think someone who is a member here would stoop to this kind of low, all I can say to you is I hope you're proud of a lie. You must be telling everyone what a mighty hunter you are to have taken such a big bull with your bow. You are probably known by most of your friends as being full of crap due to the amount of farfetched stories you come up with. All of us know at least one person like this and we avoid you like the plague. This bull will no doubt get a few people to want to listen to you for a while but we all know hunters like you are just full of BS. Enjoy your lie while it last.

 

To say I was depressed is an understatement. I took the next two days off and went into town to spend time with my family. I was uplifted by their presence and enjoyed my time spent with them. My wife is an inspiration to me and can bring me up no matter what is troubling me. My kids enjoyed the time away from the heat of the desert. My batteries were recharged as they say. I was ready for the last four days of the hunt. As I was leaving them my wife told me "you will get a bull soon now that your good luck charm has paid you a visit." I knew she was right because the last bull I killed she was actually standing right beside me when I shot him.

 

The next morning found me in new country and nearly two miles away from my truck at first light. I spotted a small bull rubbing a tree just before getting into my tree stand. He wasn't what I wanted with four days left so I made a wide circle around him and climbed into my tree stand. As it got lighter I could hear three different bulls screaming all around me. I knew that at least one of them would be coming through this area to bed down for the day. A few soft cow calls later the bull to the north of me was headed my way. I caught movement in the trees about 150 yards away but couldn't get a good look at his antlers. Then the bull I thought had already passed me and was in his bed screamed south of my location. Being down wind I wasn't paying much attention to him. I underestimated the cover scent. The next time he bugled he was closing fast and the bull to the north of me decided he wasn't interested in fighting and turned around. Now I was paying plenty of attention to the approaching bull to the south. His next bugle was a challenging scream to the retreating bull. He then cleared the tree line and I decided immediately if he got in range I would shoot him. As he passed a cluster of trees I had previously ranged at 40 yards I drew. Instead of following the trail and giving me a 20 yard broad side shot, he walked right toward my tree. He stopped at 15 yards facing me and screamed so loud I thought I would fall out of my tree stand. I had to fight to keep from shaking and held and held and held. He stood looking for the retreating bull or the cow he had heard call earlier from my location. With the wind at my back he finally raised his massive head in the air and started sniffing so loud my ears began to ring. He stiffened but didn't bust. He put his nose to the ground smelling and trying to figure out just what it was that he was smelling. He picked his head up and I swear looked right into my eyes. He took one step to his left exposing just enough vitals and I released. The arrow buried almost to the fletching's even though I hit the back of the shoulder. He bolted but I was able to stop him at 70 yards with a cow call. He was behind a tree and his front shoulders down into a draw to the west. Before he walked down the draw I saw his back legs go weak.

 

I waited almost an hour before taking up the trail. I wasn't taking any chances on bumping this bull before he expired. 150 yards later I found him and he was done. I can't explain the emotions I felt of finally taking such a nice bull with all that had happened. I wasn't taking any chance though and quickly tagged him, pulled a lock and chain from my back pack and locked the antlers to a tree! If someone was going to steal this one, they were going to have to cut of the antlers in a few different places to do so. I shot this bull at 630am and we were not able to get him to the meat locker until 330pm due to how far away from the main road and the canyon he decided to die in.

 

My father was not as picky when the broken bull walked close enough to get a shot. Unfortunately even after two days of searching intently for him we were not able to recover him until the critters had devoured most of him. This bull has just a ton of mass the picture doesn't do justice to. He has 11" diameter bases! We were ecstatic to just finally find this true warrior of the area.

 

Thank you for taking the three hours needed to read this very long post. I just hope that at least one person will read this and decide to do the right thing the next time they find a dead animal they didn't shoot. I spent half a day looking for someone that had shot an elk where I was hunting one day. I stumbled onto a blood trail and GPS'ed/flagged the location. I then back tracked the blood looking for the rightful shooter so they could leap frog to that location. Not finding anyone I drove around looking for someone whom might have shot one in that area but to no avail. I hope this wasn't someone who shot an elk and after the first hundred yards of looking gave up. The blood trail I found was very easy to follow and I'm sure the elk didn't go far. I didn't go tracking it because I didn't want to bump it or push it out of the area. These are the little things we should be doing for our fellow hunters and teaching our youth to do. I had a camera stolen and had a young man walk in front of another camera flipping me the bird. Some of us are forgetting or never being taught the basic hunting ethics. Things like this will only undermine future hunting and hunting opportunities.

 

The pictures below are as follows; Me, my brother and the last one is both my father and I.

 

Lance Lines

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It was a long read but well worth it. Congratulations on all the bulls and thanks for sharing your hunt with us.

 

My friend shot his first bull and I told him to come get me before he tracked it since he was within 10 minutes of me. He came and told me he thought he could see it down and I then told him to get back to the spot before someone steals it. He said, "someone would do that". I headed for camp to get my elk hauling buggy and when I got back to him two guys were standing over his bull and had gutted it. They took off and it all worked out. You are right, there are some low life scum bags out there. :)

 

TJ

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sucks what happened to you guys the last couple of years. you are some good hunters over there. good job guys!

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Great write up Lance. Congrats on the great bulls and 3 of them at that. Good to see a fellow Thatcher hunter gettin the job done!

 

Greg Martin

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long and great write up...seems like it is geeting worse every year.....nice looking bulls on the bright side.

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Thanks Steve, Lance & Shawn for saving me one. When all I see is spikes on my rifle hunt in that unit next month, I'll know why..... :P

 

PS. Nice write up!

Rusty

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izzat steve? dang, i thought i got old. and his poor kids look just like him. you guys had a sorta hard time on your hunt but you still brung home the backstraps. sure seems like a lotta folks had a hard time with other hunters this year. we had 3 bull tags in 1, 2 years ago. i archery and 2 late hunt. we didn't have any trouble with other hunters but we did with treehuggers. on both hunts and some of em were the same guys. dorks in a lexus suv with california plates. they screwed with us by greens peak and boardshack knoll on the archery hunt and then up on escudilla in the late hunt. what are the chances of that? they musta put a gps tracker on my truck. didn't do em any good tho. we got 3 nice bulls. Lark.

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Great story! It is horrible that you had two bulls stolen. Slob hunters are everywhere. Congratulations to all of you on some very nice bulls!

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A couple of years ago we had a similar experience with people stealing our elk. My brother shot a cow elk opening morning after he had tagged and gutted it out he left to go get the quad. When he got back his elk was gone! The most terrible thing about it was it was a juniors only hunt. So we have this picture in our minds of a dad taking his son out to teach him hunting and instead he teaches him how to steal. Anyways those are great bulls. Congrats!

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Wow - great write up, and I'm so sorry for your loss. I can't imagine why anyone would ever steal someone else's bull. I've found lost bulls before and always call G&F and give them the coordinates in hopes that the hunters might bump into them as well while looking for the bull. There is no worse feeling than losing one, and you guys did all you could to find them, just too late it seems. I mean, what satisfaction is there in finding someone else's bull and claiming it as your own?

 

I'm glad you guys ended up taking some really great bulls despite all the problems. As for lost trail cams, in one area I was hunting (unit 1) I found 3 different trail cameras that all belonged to the same hunter/hunters. They weren't locked down or anything, and I was surprised, given the number of other hunters in that area that no one had taken them. One had been turned around to face the tree it was attached to, so I turned it back to their salt lick. I don't like touching anyone else's stuff but I figured this was an OK thing to do.

 

I'm glad you had success on your hunt despite all the problems you guys ran into.

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Good story. How do you know the elk were dead when the people "stole" them? I have been in the other people shoes once before. I found a bull hit too far back with no hunter to be found. Searched and searched and couldn't find anyone who had shot a bull. With a bull suffering and will soon die, what do you do? I finished him off and ended my hunt. I don't feel bad about it at all.

 

I agree though, if it is dead then call the fish and game, or locate the hunter. I hate scumbag hunters just as much as the rest of you.

 

I was afraid that unit would turn into problems with as many tags as are in there now.

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Good story. How do you know the elk were dead when the people "stole" them? I have been in the other people shoes once before. I found a bull hit too far back with no hunter to be found. Searched and searched and couldn't find anyone who had shot a bull. With a bull suffering and will soon die, what do you do? I finished him off and ended my hunt. I don't feel bad about it at all.

 

I agree though, if it is dead then call the fish and game, or locate the hunter. I hate scumbag hunters just as much as the rest of you.

 

I was afraid that unit would turn into problems with as many tags as are in there now.

 

Well to answer your question I know for sure my fathers elk was dead. The hit he placed on his bull was square in the scenter of the liver. The blood in the bulls bed was all dried up and there was no new fresh blood anywhere. Same for mine this year other than my hit was low and at the base of the liver. The gut pile was in his bed with no new fresh blood. If these elk were still alive when the perps found them then I should have seen fresh blood and there should have been another wound in the vitals left behind. No one would have shot the bull in the head with archery equipment. Sure they could have cut his throat, hit a artery in the neck or hind quarters but then there should have been fresh blood. One other thing, our trucks were parked not a quarter mile from where these guys drug the bull out to the main road. If they wanted to find the rightfull hunter they wouldn't have to look far. No these guys got out of the area as fast as they could.

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great write up!

congrats on the success! 3 very nice bulls!

sucks someone would do that!

I have heard stories of this happening.... but thought they were just stories because no one would really take an animal someone else shot and claim it as there own!!!???? It may sound as if things are worse but part of it is the fact there is this forum to tell the stories so we here so much more about it. There are scumbags throughout the world....sad to say; even in hunting! maybe next hunt take pictures of all the other camps/vehicles and if it happens again you can see who pulled out and hunt them down! j/k

 

james

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Ya that will go over well. Taking pictures of every camp, I'm sure people will like that.

 

Its just a tough situation. It sucks that this happens. It sucks that peoples honesty and integrity have gone out the window. Doing the right thing because its the right thing, seems to be nonexistant and a thing of the past for these folks.

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