I've been a lurker here for a couple years, and haven't posted much as I'm a relatively new hunter without much knowledge to add. I'm pushing 40 years old, but didn't grow up hunting. I started about 5 years ago. So far I'd been on several javelina hunts, a couple deer hunts, and a late season elk hunt. In 5 years due to bad luck and my lack of skill and knowledge (but not due to a lack of effort) I hadn't even had a shot. Well, this year I got lucky and was drawn for early season rifle bull elk hunt in 6a north. (sorry to those with tons of bonus points who never get drawn, I know how lucky I was.) I had two friends on the application too, so we took 3 of those 50 tags. My friends both hired a guide as they wanted a big bull. I'm a little low on spare change these days due to the economy, so I couldn't afford one. But I had something better, my soccer friend Joe (JoeyBari) here on Coueswhitetail, and another friend Sam. So I'll tell you how the weekend went.
It started out Friday morning at 4am. Sam had been helping another guy with an archery hunt in the same unit, and knew there were some bulls in an area where they were unsuccessful with the bow. We got into the woods and had 3 bulls bugling around us. As the sun came up, they were on the move. We couldn't decide which bull was bigger by the sound, but as they were moving in the same direction, we figured we had a herd bull and a couple satellites. I eventually got to see both satellite bulls running around, and could have taken either with my rifle, but passed as they were both 5x5's. This was hard to do having 5 years of no shots while hunting. It was now after 9am, and while tracking, listening for, and occasionally seeing one of the satellites, I managed to stalk within 40 yards of the bedded down herd bull and it's cows. The only problem with that was I didn't know he was there. He was being fairly quiet now, and I was so focused on the satellite bull leading me to him, that I didn't notice he already had led me to him. He and his cows stampeded down the hill and out of sight. But I got a glimpse of him and I wanted that bull. We saw the direction he went, and he made a left turn, so we took off to try to cut him off. Amazingly he didn't go too far, and he was bugling a little more now. Well, we got ahead of where he was going, and found a position on a small hill to wait for him to come to us. I had a shooting lane and good cover. Before I know it, a cow passes through my shooting lane in front of a fallen tree just on top of the hill. Then another cow. Then another. I know the bull is coming any minute. I kneel down on one knee, raise my rifle, and wait. My heart is pounding and I'm a very shaky. Here he comes. And then he crosses my shooting lane. Well, if you don't know my luck hunting, this is a perfect example. He crossed my shooting lane alright, but instead of passing in front of that fallen tree like all his cows, he passed behind it, slightly more down hill. All I saw was his head and antlers above the fallen tree crossing 60 yards in front of me.
Ok, no worries. He didn't see us, and they weren't moving too fast. We took off and got in another position to cut him off. I don't get as far in front of him, but as I'm trying to cut him off, I see a cow pass 100 yards in front of me. Then another. I put my rifle on the short branch of a pine tree to help stabilize my shot. Another cow passes. Here he comes again. "Get ready" I think. My tree branch shooting rest breaks with a nice cracking sound. The bull never passes this shooting lane. I don't know if this is my lack of skill or luck this time, but the bull is gone. It's 11am when we give up and go get some lunch. Our afternoon we wait by a waterhole, but nothing happens. One of my friends gets his bull with his guide. Shot him from 300 yards at Mormon Lake. It was a pretty nice 6x6 bull.
Saturday morning Joe is with me and we check out an area he and I previously scouted. It is empty of animals. Can't find or hear elk anywhere. We decide to go back to the area that Sam and I had all the action. During the drive, I find out my other friend shot his bull. A 370 bull shot also in Mormon lake from long distance. I'm happy for both my buddies, but now it is my turn. Joe and I get to our area and immediately hear bulls bugling. Game on. Joe is an excellent elk caller, and as I've learned this weekend, he has a knack for pissing off bulls. It doesn't take long for him to get this bull coming to us. I am pretty certain it is the herd bull, and he is angry at Joe. We can't see him, but he is getting closer busting through trees and kicking up rocks just over a ridge. I'm in position and Joe is about 30 yards behind and left of me. Joe described it best when he said it was like the TRex busting through the trees in Jurassic Park. Again my heart is pounding, I'm shaking. That bull is coming over that ridge. This is it. It's going to happen. Boom! The blast of a rifle. Again, we have a problem. It wasn't my rifle. Boom! That elk that I wanted wasn't mine. Someone else got him first. My heart just sank. The mother of all four-letter words came out of my breath as I slowly exhaled. I don't know how to describe my emotions as there were many jumbled together. Disgust, frustration, sadness, self pity, jealousy, anger, plus a few more. I kept thinking about the missed opportunities of the previous day. I was trying not to be discouraged, but Joe could see I was. He said sorry, but it wasn't his fault. I need to get over it. Amazingly, as if she could sense it, my wife back in the valley sent a text message saying, "Good luck. Don't worry. You'll get yours today." She had heard that my friends both got their bulls.
While we were away, Sam glassed up a bull and his cows in the reeds at Mormon Lake. He sent a text that if we didn't get anything this morning, that we should come take a look at it. The morning action went dead with those shots, so we headed back to camp to talk to Sam. We decided to go look for this bull he had seen in the afternoon. We head out on top of mesa on the north side of the lake to look for bulls. There is a lot of action out in the middle, and hunters are trying to get at those. We are sitting looking for bulls in the tall reeds, and Joe and I are starting to think Sam is crazy. There are no animals in these reeds. That is until I just happen to catch an antler move in the reeds at the exact moment my binos are pointed at it. The we see a cow get up and move around. After sitting up there for an hour, the afternoon is getting later and we see several bulls and cows get up and start heading into the main water of the lake. Sam wasn't crazy. There were probably 50 elk that were invisible in those reeds. As we looked at them, we saw several good bulls. Joe would range them. "That one is 520 yards. He's big." Joe asked me if I thought I could make a 500 yard shot. I'll admit I was considering it, feeling the pressure of two friends already tagged out. But I didn't want to do it like that. I hadn't practiced 500 yard shots. I definitely didn't want to wound an animal and not be able to recover him. And I didn't just want to be a target shooter, I wanted to be a hunter. Joe said, "Lets go." Where are we going? "We're going down there." Okay. I knew it was too late to get in the truck and go somewhere else that afternoon. "How are you going to get to the elk," Sam asked. "We are going to call them in," replied Joe.
Fantastic. I had my doubts. "Those elk won't come out of the protection of those reeds" is what I thought to myself. I guess I shouldn't doubt Joe and Sam when it comes to hunting. I positioned myself in some tall grass about 25 yards from the wall of reeds on the edge of the water. Joe was 20 yards or so behind me, also hidden in the tall grass. Joe starts with some cow calls, and I join in too. He throws in the rare bugle too. Before long I hear elk moving and sloshing around in the water just beyond the wall of reeds. Eventually a cautious cow comes out. She looks around and comes to within 20 yards of me before returning to the reeds. A few minutes late, another cow comes out. It isn't as cautious. It comes to within 15 yards of me. She is so close I can hear her chewing on the grass and yellow flowers in her mouth. She moves right down wind of me and her alert sensors go off. She immediately pops her head up, ears at full attention. She looks for me for about 10 seconds, then slowly trots back into the reeds. That was really cool. Joe later told me he thought she might step on me. Our calling continues. I see the tips of some antlers running around kind of crazy. I can't tell for sure, but I'm thinking it is a small bull. It's moving around like it is nervous and it isn't bugling. As the sun is starting to set, the bulls are going more nuts. I have a bull just poke his head out of the wall of reeds. He's looking around for where Joe's cow calls are coming from He's a 5x3, and his right antler doesn't have brow tines and comes out of his forehead instead of on top. He cautiously comes all the way out of the reeds starting out to my right. After a couple minutes he is 20 yards directly in front of me. I have my rifle scope dead on him and think how easy this could be. Meanwhile there is an angry bull to my left getting closer and closer. I can't see him in the reeds. He sounds huge to me, and the grunts that follow his deafening bugles make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I want to point myself more to the left in case he comes out of the reeds, but I can't move with this smaller bull right in front of me. As the smaller bull moves left, he puts his head down into some tall grass and I quickly shift my body to the left hoping big boy comes out. Then I hear another close bugle to my right. These things are everywhere. This is crazy. I turn my head right slowly and look for the source of this new bugle. I don't see anything. I slowly move my head back to the left and guess who came out to play. There he is. A 6x6 bull, 50-70 yards away. He's facing me. He's staring down the 5x3, who stops broadside right in front of my scope. I know I'm going to have a shot soon. I remember thinking "Am I really going to do this?" And at that moment, the 5x3 moved out of the way the 6x6 turned broadside like it was divine intervention. This bull wasn't as big as either of my friends bulls or the bull I missed out earlier in the morning. I didn't care. He was my bull. I'm looking at the spot right behind his shoulder, trying to steady my shaking reticule on it. I close my eyes and take two slow deep breaths. I open my eyes and he is still there. My gun is steady. I pull the trigger. He drops right there in thick mud. I am shaking again, but even worse than before. My ears are ringing. I get up on one knee, thank God, and look at Joe. His arms are in the air like I just scored a touchdown. He gives me double high five and I say thank you.
So everyone please give a round of applause to JoeyBari. Thanks to Joe and Sam from bringing me from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs in one day. And thanks to Bill, Clint, and Kory for helping us pack him out till 1:00am in the morning. I hope everyone here on Coueswhitetail.com have friends and experiences like mine this weekend! Here's my first big game animal.
