MontanaBlades
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2023
- Messages
- 127
Like most of us, I was unsuccessful in drawing a tag for either a bison, sheep, or goat (successful with moose in 2023). As another point was added to my preference list, I wondered what would get me excited about hunting season this fall. As I look at my wall of antlered mule deer and whitetail deer, next to my moose, I notice something missing. Folks, I've decided this year will be the year I go all out for my first bull elk.
I have harvested a few cow elk in the past, but I have not been successful with a bull. In 2023, members of this community shared with me the joy and the excitement when I got my bull moose. This bull moose was a joy to pursue, and sharing the experience with all of you kept me focused and on task. My goal for this year is to document my journey by scouting, scouting, and scouting with an occasional post as I did with my moose. I want to chronicle my adventures with like-minded people. Nothing more, nothing less. So, here goes, elk season has officially begun.
Two weeks ago, when I decided to do this, I set off on my expedition with my horses. Recently, I acquired a second horse to help me get in farther, and just as important, to help me get out. This first trip ended in disaster. I wanted to check out a few places to see if they currently contain and hold elk or have in the past, by examining old poop and rubs. I got off to a late start due to family obligations, but I was eager to be in the mountains to ride and explore. As I parked near the trailhead, I saddled one horse, leaving the other horse unsaddled (to get some exercise and for me to practice leading a pack). Also, in tow or leading, are two golden retrievers just as excited about the adventure as I am.
Before setting out, I surveyed the skyline. To the east, beautiful blue sky. To the south, some ominous big thunder bangers. The internal debate between the devil on my right shoulder, urging me to go for it, while Jesus on my left shoulder advised me to hold back. In the end, I decided to make a run at it. After three miles, according to my On-x, the rain started to sprinkle. That blue sky to the east, in the direction I wanted to head, succumbed to the treacherous dark clouds. I had no data on my phone to check the radar. I also had no rain gear to put on. In the distance, and heading my direction, lightning and thunder. The question: Do I find a tree to wait out the storm, or do I tuck tail and run? How big is the storm? This unknown, combined with the growing darkness and thunder, was too much, and I decided that I had better head back and cut my losses.
As I did a 180, the light rain soon turned into heavy rain (cue Forrest Gump). As the thunder grew louder and flashes of lightning, I became increasingly worried that I was a duck on the pond for electrocution, as I crested the ridge to get back down to the forest service road. The rain wasn't cold, and the horses were handling the crackling of the thunder better than could ever hoped. In the last 200-300 yards or so, the hail began pelting us. Alas, the rig and horse trailer. By this time, the rain was becoming cold. The hail was starting to sting. And the wind wanted to take my hat to the next county. I opened the horse trailer and muscled one horse in a tiny 2-horse trailer. Next, time to unsaddle the mare as the lightning seems to be striking only a few hundred yards from me. I got the back cinch undone and was moving onto the breast collar when I accidentally discharged bear spray all over my left cheek, left ear, neck, and pectorals. The canister was attached to my binocular harness for quick access. This is when I took note of how things could get worse.
I couldn't see. Blinded, burning, raining, hailing, I knew I had to get this second horse in the trailer, or things would get even more out of control. The struggle was real trying to get my bino harness off not to repeat the mistake. Fortunately for me, the rain was pouring down, which helped relieve the burning sensation temporarily. With the bino harness off, the front cinch untied, I threw the saddle off into the ditch. This mare was a Godsend for loading into a trailer. She loaded right up and without a fuss. I still couldn't see, having made my way from the trailer to the pickup bed, where I had a case of Costco water. I must have gone through 7-8 bottles in attempts to get the burning orange residue off my skin. It took a good hour and a half before I could see again. Without that water, I would have been in serious trouble.
Soaked, burned, and defeated, I headed home.
July 13, 2025
The weather forecast calls for no wind, 2% chance of rain at 10 pm, and a high of 100. I set the alarm for 4:30, and I was out the door by 5 with my gear, coffee, water, and a granola bar. By 5:30, I loaded just one horse and two goldens, and we set sail back to the original destination. By 7:15, I was heading up the trailhead, confident that this outcome would be much different. By 7:30, I had combat poo as my coffee kicked in.
I conducted "e-scouting" before my visit and placed waypoints to explore potential elk habitat, focusing on areas with food, water, shelter, and north-facing slopes. I watched the YouTube videos, and now it's time to put knowledge into action and explore. Once I got to these points, I was only mildly disappointed. I saw a little fresh poo, a little old poo, and some of last year's rubs (or some other years). But it wasn't the volume I was hoping for, but I knew if I set up a trail cam here, I was sure I would capture the one elk, not the herd. I glassed at a few spots and smelled the remnants of the damn bear spray. I didn't tear up. I crested a second hill, which offered great strategic glassing. After an hour or so of hanging out, I spotted only two separate mountain white-tail deer frolicking. The thermometer was rising, and it was becoming an endurance contest. I saddled up and told those goldens, let's go home. I checked my Apple Watch, and it was high noon and 83.
Hopefully, next week will prove to be more fruitful. I do think we have to go much deeper.
I have harvested a few cow elk in the past, but I have not been successful with a bull. In 2023, members of this community shared with me the joy and the excitement when I got my bull moose. This bull moose was a joy to pursue, and sharing the experience with all of you kept me focused and on task. My goal for this year is to document my journey by scouting, scouting, and scouting with an occasional post as I did with my moose. I want to chronicle my adventures with like-minded people. Nothing more, nothing less. So, here goes, elk season has officially begun.
Two weeks ago, when I decided to do this, I set off on my expedition with my horses. Recently, I acquired a second horse to help me get in farther, and just as important, to help me get out. This first trip ended in disaster. I wanted to check out a few places to see if they currently contain and hold elk or have in the past, by examining old poop and rubs. I got off to a late start due to family obligations, but I was eager to be in the mountains to ride and explore. As I parked near the trailhead, I saddled one horse, leaving the other horse unsaddled (to get some exercise and for me to practice leading a pack). Also, in tow or leading, are two golden retrievers just as excited about the adventure as I am.
Before setting out, I surveyed the skyline. To the east, beautiful blue sky. To the south, some ominous big thunder bangers. The internal debate between the devil on my right shoulder, urging me to go for it, while Jesus on my left shoulder advised me to hold back. In the end, I decided to make a run at it. After three miles, according to my On-x, the rain started to sprinkle. That blue sky to the east, in the direction I wanted to head, succumbed to the treacherous dark clouds. I had no data on my phone to check the radar. I also had no rain gear to put on. In the distance, and heading my direction, lightning and thunder. The question: Do I find a tree to wait out the storm, or do I tuck tail and run? How big is the storm? This unknown, combined with the growing darkness and thunder, was too much, and I decided that I had better head back and cut my losses.
As I did a 180, the light rain soon turned into heavy rain (cue Forrest Gump). As the thunder grew louder and flashes of lightning, I became increasingly worried that I was a duck on the pond for electrocution, as I crested the ridge to get back down to the forest service road. The rain wasn't cold, and the horses were handling the crackling of the thunder better than could ever hoped. In the last 200-300 yards or so, the hail began pelting us. Alas, the rig and horse trailer. By this time, the rain was becoming cold. The hail was starting to sting. And the wind wanted to take my hat to the next county. I opened the horse trailer and muscled one horse in a tiny 2-horse trailer. Next, time to unsaddle the mare as the lightning seems to be striking only a few hundred yards from me. I got the back cinch undone and was moving onto the breast collar when I accidentally discharged bear spray all over my left cheek, left ear, neck, and pectorals. The canister was attached to my binocular harness for quick access. This is when I took note of how things could get worse.
I couldn't see. Blinded, burning, raining, hailing, I knew I had to get this second horse in the trailer, or things would get even more out of control. The struggle was real trying to get my bino harness off not to repeat the mistake. Fortunately for me, the rain was pouring down, which helped relieve the burning sensation temporarily. With the bino harness off, the front cinch untied, I threw the saddle off into the ditch. This mare was a Godsend for loading into a trailer. She loaded right up and without a fuss. I still couldn't see, having made my way from the trailer to the pickup bed, where I had a case of Costco water. I must have gone through 7-8 bottles in attempts to get the burning orange residue off my skin. It took a good hour and a half before I could see again. Without that water, I would have been in serious trouble.
Soaked, burned, and defeated, I headed home.
July 13, 2025
The weather forecast calls for no wind, 2% chance of rain at 10 pm, and a high of 100. I set the alarm for 4:30, and I was out the door by 5 with my gear, coffee, water, and a granola bar. By 5:30, I loaded just one horse and two goldens, and we set sail back to the original destination. By 7:15, I was heading up the trailhead, confident that this outcome would be much different. By 7:30, I had combat poo as my coffee kicked in.
I conducted "e-scouting" before my visit and placed waypoints to explore potential elk habitat, focusing on areas with food, water, shelter, and north-facing slopes. I watched the YouTube videos, and now it's time to put knowledge into action and explore. Once I got to these points, I was only mildly disappointed. I saw a little fresh poo, a little old poo, and some of last year's rubs (or some other years). But it wasn't the volume I was hoping for, but I knew if I set up a trail cam here, I was sure I would capture the one elk, not the herd. I glassed at a few spots and smelled the remnants of the damn bear spray. I didn't tear up. I crested a second hill, which offered great strategic glassing. After an hour or so of hanging out, I spotted only two separate mountain white-tail deer frolicking. The thermometer was rising, and it was becoming an endurance contest. I saddled up and told those goldens, let's go home. I checked my Apple Watch, and it was high noon and 83.
Hopefully, next week will prove to be more fruitful. I do think we have to go much deeper.
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