This year I carved out way to little time for hunting. Most years, I get at least a couple handfuls of days hunting spring bear, hunt something in Wyoming, hunt for antelope, then get to put some time in for deer and elk in Montana.
Instead, my wife and I built a house (doing as much as possible ourselves) and I changed careers. Lets just say, don't sign up to build a house unless you don't have any other plans - grin. It's even taken me six or seven weeks to get around to writing this up! The first time I made it into the field, aside from a few brief trips to shoot rockchucks, was Friday afternoon prior to the Montana general rifle opener.
Friday afternoon I hiked in to a different spot than normal, tore my heals up, and realized I wasn't exactly in tip top mountain shape. I'm supposed to be meeting my friend Bob at a particular camp site he'll be getting to after dark, so I set up my bivy and head out to glass. It doesn't take very much glassing to realize that there are elk EVERYWHERE. I'm primarily hunting deer, and more interested in deer, but the freezers back home are pretty bare so I wouldn't mind if I could squeeze in an elk without screwing up my deer hunt. There are elk on almost every hillside I can see, but no particularly good bulls. After a little while, I spot a pretty good buck and watch him bed as it gets dark. If he's still there in the morning, I'll definently take him.
That night, Bob never shows up. Somehow he missed my camp, so he hikes two miles further to our Plan B spot, just to not find me there. He stayed there anyways.
Opening morning I sneek down to the vantage I had picked out. There is a herd of elk standing in front of me, in range, but I can't find the deer I had my eye on from the night before. The area is pretty popular, and I was sure someone was going to start shooting at the elk fairly soon. Without finding any deer, and with an empty freezer at home, I decided it might as well be me, so I range the bull in the group and he dropped at the shot.
The herd groups up and moves to the edge of the clearing they've been feeding in. I decide to stay put for a moment and see if the buck I was looking for doesn't happen to show up (sometimes I am not smart, when you are alone with an elk down you typically don't need more to deal with). I figure the odds are pretty low, but after ten minutes he actually does appear! Before I can get a shot off, he takes off, then I hear a string of shots pretty close, I assume that folks are shooting at the group of elk that are still in the area. A little worried that someone else might try to claim the one I shot, and figuring the buck is gone and that I didn't need more to deal with anyways, I head out to tag and process the bull I shot.
Cell service is pretty bad, but I managed to get a text out to Bob with the location I had an elk down, just in case he was in the area and managed to get it. Right around the time I finished boning the bull and skinning the head, he walks over the hill with two other guys in tow. He got my message and ran into two other guys he ran into who want to help carry my elk out?!?! Still not sure about why, but I sure didn't question it, especially with my feet in iffy condition. With the four of us, it wan't a bad pack out at all, especially for an elk five or so miles in. Still, I was tired, sore, and tore up when we got to the trailhead, and kinda wanted to head home and return to my camp the next weekend. Bob talked me into heading back up that day, and we got to the top of the mountain just in time for last light, and to see some elk he might have shot disappear out of range.
The next morning we are looking again for elk for him or deer for me. No elk appear, but we are seeing some deer here and there. Bob finds a deer he thinks I should consider, but I turn him down when I put the spotter on him. We find another that I think might be the deer I saw on Friday, and I start getting ready to shoot. Before I do, he says to stop, there is another buck. I look quickly in the spotter and decide that he is better yet. Due to a somehow bad initial range and some subsequent movement, the deer took three shots to put down, more than I like but he didn't get away. As we were walking up to him I confessed to Bob a couple of times that I didn't get a very good look at him and hope that he's at least decent!
When we got there I realized my initial impression through the spotter had not been wrong, he was a good buck and my best one yet!
So that was my 2.5 day season. I consider myself quite fortunate to have collected a good sized pile of meat and a nice buck despite a minimal level of time an effort put into the endevour. I owe a lot to my friend Bob, who not only helped me pack both animals out, but gave me some very good info on where to look for bucks. Despite more success than I probably really deserved, I'm already planning to have a lot more free time next year!
Instead, my wife and I built a house (doing as much as possible ourselves) and I changed careers. Lets just say, don't sign up to build a house unless you don't have any other plans - grin. It's even taken me six or seven weeks to get around to writing this up! The first time I made it into the field, aside from a few brief trips to shoot rockchucks, was Friday afternoon prior to the Montana general rifle opener.
Friday afternoon I hiked in to a different spot than normal, tore my heals up, and realized I wasn't exactly in tip top mountain shape. I'm supposed to be meeting my friend Bob at a particular camp site he'll be getting to after dark, so I set up my bivy and head out to glass. It doesn't take very much glassing to realize that there are elk EVERYWHERE. I'm primarily hunting deer, and more interested in deer, but the freezers back home are pretty bare so I wouldn't mind if I could squeeze in an elk without screwing up my deer hunt. There are elk on almost every hillside I can see, but no particularly good bulls. After a little while, I spot a pretty good buck and watch him bed as it gets dark. If he's still there in the morning, I'll definently take him.
That night, Bob never shows up. Somehow he missed my camp, so he hikes two miles further to our Plan B spot, just to not find me there. He stayed there anyways.
Opening morning I sneek down to the vantage I had picked out. There is a herd of elk standing in front of me, in range, but I can't find the deer I had my eye on from the night before. The area is pretty popular, and I was sure someone was going to start shooting at the elk fairly soon. Without finding any deer, and with an empty freezer at home, I decided it might as well be me, so I range the bull in the group and he dropped at the shot.
The herd groups up and moves to the edge of the clearing they've been feeding in. I decide to stay put for a moment and see if the buck I was looking for doesn't happen to show up (sometimes I am not smart, when you are alone with an elk down you typically don't need more to deal with). I figure the odds are pretty low, but after ten minutes he actually does appear! Before I can get a shot off, he takes off, then I hear a string of shots pretty close, I assume that folks are shooting at the group of elk that are still in the area. A little worried that someone else might try to claim the one I shot, and figuring the buck is gone and that I didn't need more to deal with anyways, I head out to tag and process the bull I shot.
Cell service is pretty bad, but I managed to get a text out to Bob with the location I had an elk down, just in case he was in the area and managed to get it. Right around the time I finished boning the bull and skinning the head, he walks over the hill with two other guys in tow. He got my message and ran into two other guys he ran into who want to help carry my elk out?!?! Still not sure about why, but I sure didn't question it, especially with my feet in iffy condition. With the four of us, it wan't a bad pack out at all, especially for an elk five or so miles in. Still, I was tired, sore, and tore up when we got to the trailhead, and kinda wanted to head home and return to my camp the next weekend. Bob talked me into heading back up that day, and we got to the top of the mountain just in time for last light, and to see some elk he might have shot disappear out of range.
The next morning we are looking again for elk for him or deer for me. No elk appear, but we are seeing some deer here and there. Bob finds a deer he thinks I should consider, but I turn him down when I put the spotter on him. We find another that I think might be the deer I saw on Friday, and I start getting ready to shoot. Before I do, he says to stop, there is another buck. I look quickly in the spotter and decide that he is better yet. Due to a somehow bad initial range and some subsequent movement, the deer took three shots to put down, more than I like but he didn't get away. As we were walking up to him I confessed to Bob a couple of times that I didn't get a very good look at him and hope that he's at least decent!
When we got there I realized my initial impression through the spotter had not been wrong, he was a good buck and my best one yet!
So that was my 2.5 day season. I consider myself quite fortunate to have collected a good sized pile of meat and a nice buck despite a minimal level of time an effort put into the endevour. I owe a lot to my friend Bob, who not only helped me pack both animals out, but gave me some very good info on where to look for bucks. Despite more success than I probably really deserved, I'm already planning to have a lot more free time next year!
