2021 kamikazee elk
- Thread starter TRS_Montana
- Start date
Khunter
Well-known member
great stuff!
Duck-Slayer
Well-known member
Great write up so far! Wish I could come up with well written words like that lol 
Matt
Matt
D
Deleted member 20812
Guest
Glad it worked out for you. That’s a pull getting to where you camped. Much respect…
TRS_Montana
Well-known member
There are as many paths to fulfillment as there are people on this planet.
When I was talking to some (seriously badass) hunters about this district, one made the comment "I'd hunt opening weekend, but it would take something pretty special for me to pull the trigger."
Two hundred steps were between me and the bull. Two hundred steps full of an adrenaline-fueled episode of reflection that seems to be a consistent occurrence after I kill an animal. I can only infer that what the hunter was talking about by "special" was a bull of the caliber represented by the Emperor.
Let me tell you what "special" means to me.
40 years ago, my dad went out and bought a 12-gauge Remington Wingmaster and a box of 00 buckshot, grabbed a steak knife, walked into the Virginia woods and taught himself to hunt. Years later, my folks moved to Montana where my dad bought his first rifle: a Remington Model 700 chambered in .270 Win. He hunted in the mountains, hills, and plains of Montana with that rifle and took a handful of animals. As I grew up, my dad taught me everything he knew about hunting. Today, hunting is my escape when shit gets hard. Hunting is a huge part of what keeps me (mostly) healthy, both mentally and physically. Hunting allows me to wrestle with the concept of mortality year after year and reminds me that we all will stare in resignation one day in the direction of the proverbial shots. Hunting affords me a depth of connection with my kids that I would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere. Hunting is my bridge to nature, and nature is life.
As 200 steps became 100 became 10...I looked down at the rifle in my hands. The same Remington Model 700 that my dad carried in the mountains before I was born. I looked around me at the same hills and mountains my dad hiked over 30 years ago. I looked up at the biggest bull I've shot in my life.
Yeah...I'd say this was pretty damn special. With that, I said a quick prayer and got to work.
EPILOGUE (of sorts)
After I got the bull quartered up and bagged, I gulped my last drop of water and stared longingly at the bottom of my food bag. It was about 8:45 when I started the ~1.75 mile walk back to camp. When I reached the top of the hill I was camped near, I called my closest friend and gave him the cliffnotes. Now...when you're 8.5 miles from the trailhead, with no food, an elk to pack out, and on the tail end of a pretty intense weekend...your chances of survival are only as good as the friends you have.
By 11:00am, 5 of the best friends a guy could ask for had negotiated pretty steep terms with their families and signed on to the extraction team. One of them literally pulled a bike out of the box and put it together for this trip. I got the text from my buddy that they were on the road, so I packed up camp, stashed it along the trail and headed back to the elk with my bike.
We had agreed to meet at a prominent landmark that was about 1 mile from where I shot the elk. Which meant I had to move ~190 lbs of meat and antlers 1 mile. I can do this.
I wanted to do it in one trip, and I wanted to see what my bike set up could handle...so I sent it. A boned out hind quarter and change in each pannier bag, and meat from the fronts, backstraps, and scraps on my back. I tied the headgear on top of my bike rack, and we're off!
Holy. Shit.
If I end up with early onset ANYTHING...I'm 100% certain it started on this 1-mile trip. Here's what my set up looked like. It looks relatively benign in the pictures.
.
I had service here, so I facetimed with the fam and hung out for a little while to recoup a bit. After a while, I start shuttling meat/gear down the trail a little ways and then the extraction team shows up.
There is nothing I can say about these guys that will do them justice. One guy shows up on what I'm guessing is a 1996 Raleigh commuter bike with broken shocks. Another guy is riding a loaner bike that's chain falls off every time he tries to put it in a gear lower than 4th. He's also about 12" inches too tall for it. Almost all of them cancelled commitments and plans to do this. To hike/bike 15 miles roundtrip with an elk on their backs. Humbling is the word that comes to mind.
We talk for a while about the hunt and the country we're in. I eat about a 1/4th of everyone's food. Then...we saddle up and head out...excited to plan next year's hunt.
When I was talking to some (seriously badass) hunters about this district, one made the comment "I'd hunt opening weekend, but it would take something pretty special for me to pull the trigger."
Two hundred steps were between me and the bull. Two hundred steps full of an adrenaline-fueled episode of reflection that seems to be a consistent occurrence after I kill an animal. I can only infer that what the hunter was talking about by "special" was a bull of the caliber represented by the Emperor.
Let me tell you what "special" means to me.
40 years ago, my dad went out and bought a 12-gauge Remington Wingmaster and a box of 00 buckshot, grabbed a steak knife, walked into the Virginia woods and taught himself to hunt. Years later, my folks moved to Montana where my dad bought his first rifle: a Remington Model 700 chambered in .270 Win. He hunted in the mountains, hills, and plains of Montana with that rifle and took a handful of animals. As I grew up, my dad taught me everything he knew about hunting. Today, hunting is my escape when shit gets hard. Hunting is a huge part of what keeps me (mostly) healthy, both mentally and physically. Hunting allows me to wrestle with the concept of mortality year after year and reminds me that we all will stare in resignation one day in the direction of the proverbial shots. Hunting affords me a depth of connection with my kids that I would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere. Hunting is my bridge to nature, and nature is life.
As 200 steps became 100 became 10...I looked down at the rifle in my hands. The same Remington Model 700 that my dad carried in the mountains before I was born. I looked around me at the same hills and mountains my dad hiked over 30 years ago. I looked up at the biggest bull I've shot in my life.
Yeah...I'd say this was pretty damn special. With that, I said a quick prayer and got to work.
EPILOGUE (of sorts)
After I got the bull quartered up and bagged, I gulped my last drop of water and stared longingly at the bottom of my food bag. It was about 8:45 when I started the ~1.75 mile walk back to camp. When I reached the top of the hill I was camped near, I called my closest friend and gave him the cliffnotes. Now...when you're 8.5 miles from the trailhead, with no food, an elk to pack out, and on the tail end of a pretty intense weekend...your chances of survival are only as good as the friends you have.
By 11:00am, 5 of the best friends a guy could ask for had negotiated pretty steep terms with their families and signed on to the extraction team. One of them literally pulled a bike out of the box and put it together for this trip. I got the text from my buddy that they were on the road, so I packed up camp, stashed it along the trail and headed back to the elk with my bike.
We had agreed to meet at a prominent landmark that was about 1 mile from where I shot the elk. Which meant I had to move ~190 lbs of meat and antlers 1 mile. I can do this.
I wanted to do it in one trip, and I wanted to see what my bike set up could handle...so I sent it. A boned out hind quarter and change in each pannier bag, and meat from the fronts, backstraps, and scraps on my back. I tied the headgear on top of my bike rack, and we're off!
Holy. Shit.
If I end up with early onset ANYTHING...I'm 100% certain it started on this 1-mile trip. Here's what my set up looked like. It looks relatively benign in the pictures.
.I had service here, so I facetimed with the fam and hung out for a little while to recoup a bit. After a while, I start shuttling meat/gear down the trail a little ways and then the extraction team shows up.
There is nothing I can say about these guys that will do them justice. One guy shows up on what I'm guessing is a 1996 Raleigh commuter bike with broken shocks. Another guy is riding a loaner bike that's chain falls off every time he tries to put it in a gear lower than 4th. He's also about 12" inches too tall for it. Almost all of them cancelled commitments and plans to do this. To hike/bike 15 miles roundtrip with an elk on their backs. Humbling is the word that comes to mind.
We talk for a while about the hunt and the country we're in. I eat about a 1/4th of everyone's food. Then...we saddle up and head out...excited to plan next year's hunt.
Last edited:
TRS_Montana
Well-known member
Thanks, man. And thanks again for the help!
D
Deleted member 20812
Guest
Shit man, what a very cool summation of a snapshot in time.
That’s a great bull and a fantastic story. Congratulations.
csutton7
Active member
Well done and very well written.
Art Vandeley
Well-known member
Great story and pictures, well done
A wonderful effort all around. Outstanding prose with some excellent photos.
You are hereby awarded the medal for paternal piety, 35,000 calories of any choosing, six days of rest and relaxation and since you had the crew come in and help, you are awarded the Bea Arthur award of excellence.
You are hereby awarded the medal for paternal piety, 35,000 calories of any choosing, six days of rest and relaxation and since you had the crew come in and help, you are awarded the Bea Arthur award of excellence.
Montana4Life
Member
Fantastic writeup and bull. Thanks for taking us along!!
Hem
Well-known member
Being a mountain biker i really liked your approach.
Awesome hunt, great story.
Loved the fact you killed with your Dads rifle.
Big congrats.
Awesome hunt, great story.
Loved the fact you killed with your Dads rifle.
Big congrats.
BillDoe708
Active member
Print this with photos, bind it and make sure your kids and grandkids get copies.
And keep that rifle in good shape.
And keep that rifle in good shape.
Sask hunter
Well-known member
- Joined
- Sep 20, 2016
- Messages
- 2,958
Congrats nice bull!!
