Aussies in Montana (long & pic heavy)

OzzyDave

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Jan 29, 2019
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QLD AUSTRALIA
While I’m stuck “working” from home, I thought I’d recount my September 2019 Elk hunt in Montana, so bear with me:

After nearly 12 months of planning, I met up with my 2 Aussie hunting mates Robbo and Graham, in San Francisco Airport, for the start of our Montana adventure. A few more hours on the next tin bird and we’d be in Bozeman. A few days to wash away jet lag and “acclimatise” before the main event, our archery Elk hunt. For us flat landers, we knew the elevation would be an issue, so wandering around for a few days certainly helped BUT we knew we’d be tested.

”Washing away jet lag”
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We filled our pre hunt days with trips to sports stores, buying gear we may or may not have needed. We worked out quickly that there is no such thing as warm rain in Montana. Second or third day in town, we had sleet and a little snow on the higher peeks around town - brrrrr. A quick trip to the Montana Fish & Wildlife office in Bozeman for our compulsory Bow License, filled in a couple of hours. The other 2 fellas purchased an OTC Turkey tag, while I went all in and bought an OTC Black Bear tag. I managed 100% on the bear ID test. We figured it was better to have the tag in your pocket. One of the high lights of our pre hunt days was a day trip to Yellowstone National Park. We jagged a few seats on a fully guided tour, picking us up and dropping back to motel door. The first coffee stop was Gardiner. I reckon not 30 seconds after getting out of the van, I heard a bull elk screaming. This bull came sauntering up through the asphalt car park, in and out of the parked cars, screaming at a small group of cow elk on a little grassed area. He pushed around “his” cows, bugling dominance at every chance. The bugle seems to reverberate clean through your body. It was a great photo opportunity. Seeing, in the flesh, how the bulls interact with the cows, would hopefully help us in the days to come. We mixed with Elk and Bison, at times in spitting distance, in truly spectacular wilderness surrounds.

“Filling in time pre hunt - Robbo left Graham right)
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“The car park bull”
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“Magnificent Yellowstone”
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The day had finally come. Our chosen outfitter, picked us up from our motel in a big, dual cab pickup, a real novelty for us. We don’t see too many of these Downunder. In the hour or so drive to the hunting cabin, we bounced questions off Doug. I kept telling the guys we had to slow down and pronounce our words when speaking. I sat in the front seat and “translated” several times over the trip. Our Aussie slang threw them many times. We would learn they absolutely love hunting with Australians. We take it for granted, having the ability to hunt all year round with our bows. We each had a Big Game license in our pockets. I’d gone into the draw and was succssful on a Pronghorn Antelope but Elk would be my priority.

After the introductions etc, our gear was squared away in rooms and bows checked. A few quick practice shots were in order. We were partnered up with a guide and would be straight into it that afternoon. It was getting real now. Frank, my guide, drove us a leisurely 40 minutes to the property I would be hunting. We hiked up to a small rocky out crop and hunkered down amongst several small pines for an afternoon glassing session. About 20 minutes before dark the temp dropped dramatically. I heard my first bugle and totally forgot about the cold. They were waking up and on the move. Glassing the opposite, sunlit ridge, we could occasionally pick out the herd wandering down off the mountain. Dark took over pretty quick in the mountains and we had to retreat back to the car for the trek home.

“The rock outcrop we glassed from”
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That night after dinner the plan was hatched for the next morning. We’d be up well before the sunrise and smash down some breakfast. First light was not long after 7am, so we planned to be in place to try and catch the herd as they made their way back to the bedding area. The plan was sound BUT the elk didn’t follow the plan. They were well and truly most of the way up the mountain before sunrise. The swirling wind wasn’t going to help our cause. We cut higher on their side of the ridge, hoping to get above them. The pine was pretty thick up here and visibility was no more than 50 yards. The herd of Elk were certainly more talkative, making them easier to locate. We were making our way slowly towards and large clearing and then it happened. At first a rumble of hooves, then turning to a full on stampede, coming our way down the slope. A satellite bull had pinched 8 or so cows off of the herd bull and was running them straight towards us. The cows slowed to a trot and then milled around. He bedded them in a clearing downslope from me. I was caught mid stride, in a half crouch, with a branch a foot in front of my face. There was a cow bedded less than 20 yards from me and a 6x6 bull at around 60yards, screaming his disdain back towards the herd bull. My adrenalin was off the scale. I could feel a cramp coming on, so I knew I had to try something. Slowly lowering down into the small depression I was in AND - BUSTED. The 20 yard cow bolted like she’d been hit by lightning, taking the other 7 cows with her. The bull had no idea what had just happened and tried to round up his hard won prizes. Rookie mistake, I know but an excellent experience to have these animals so close. The wind started playing silly buggars again. Not wanting to push them out of their bedding area, we backed out, finishing the morning laying amongst the sage brush on the opposite, sunny slope. I think I only fell asleep twice.

“Contemplating what could have been after first encounter””
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Day 3 and the talk over dinner the previous night was that we had “weather” coming in. The word was that the colder weather would get the elk more active. It was definitely colder this morning, with a little ice on the windscreen. I was still giving myself upper cuts for yesterdays screw up. Frank was full of encouragement and kept my mind off the whole thing. This morning, we would be in position before the sunrise and glass from the shaded ridge. In the pre dawn darkness, we could hear the faint elk bugles. It was still and cold. The frost clung to the grass along the creek banks, crunching under our boots. We were in position just as the first rays hit the ridge. Up high we could make out a good bull raking trees. He was shredding small pines like they were twigs. Simple plan, get over there and kill that bull. It took the best part of an hour to get from our side to the opposite ridge. The chatter and bugling had all but stopped. Once we got close to where we thought the bull was, Frank put me out front. It was hard to see under the densely packed pines. A couple of steps, listen, then repeat. Just as I crested the small rise in front of me, I made eye contact with a bedded cow elk. She was maybe 15yards. I froze. She looked away but knew something wasn’t right. As she stood I lowered my profile, trying to be the best impression of a sage bush. The group weren’t spooked but moved further up the mountain. I didn’t see the bull but he would have been with them. I was kicking myself again but Frank’s calming influence settled me. He suggested we sit here for a bit and “see what might come along”. I sat in beside a clump of sage, arrow on the string. All my senses were in overdrive. The group that had just vacated could be heard mewing and chattering up the mountain from us. Maybe 5 minutes passed. I was running ranges through my mind to a couple of trees above me, guessing 40 yards, when Frank gave me quiet - “Pssst, left left”. My eyes darted left. There were guard tines poking through the pines above us. A bull was sneaking in. He had not made a single noise. On his current path, he would be at the 40 yard clump in seconds. He was taking slow, purposeful steps, sniffing the air as he went. There was a 1 meter gap between the pines, that he would pass. As his head went behind some thicker brush, I drew. The bull stopped. I was full draw for what felt like an eternity. He then took another few steps towards the clearing. Frank gave a low mew sound, stopping the bull perfectly in the gap. I remember the red 40 pin on his shoulder and then the arrow was away. The orange vanes disappeared right into the triangle, zipping through and continuing up the mountain. The bull kicked and sprinted off. Frank said urgently “get another arrow ready.” My confident response was “that bull is dead Frank!”. The steepness of the slope allowed me to lay down and watch the bull through the binos. He went maybe 70yards and stopped. The raspy, coughing noises told me a certain lung shot. He lay down and in seconds was done. Frank said we should give him a few minutes, so we had a cursory look for my arrow, looking in the general direction it had travelled but it was gone. Buggar the arrow, lets go get my bull. We didn’t find blood until 20 or yards from where he went down. Laying in a small clearing was a healthy looking 6x6 bull elk. He wasn’t one of the big guys we’d seen but it would do me. I notched my Montana bull elk tag on the 26th September 2019. The radio call went out for some assistance to get him off the mountain. We had the obligatory photo session and started the field dressing. The steep slope worked in our favour, using gravity as our friend. Once the internals were out, the ViperTrick damage was evident. The chest cavity was full of blood, hence the lack of a trail. Both lungs were punctured and one of the arteries above the heart were severed. With the cavalry arriving, we went about getting him off the mountain and onto the trailer for the trip home. It still amazes me that not one person even looked twice, as we drove through the 2 small towns on our way back to the lodge. On our return, he was caped and dressed out with military precision. These guys had done this one or 2 times before. The pressure relief valve was released, for me at least.

”Right in the sweet spot - that bull’s dead Frank”
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“One happy Aussie bowhunter”
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“Tagged out”
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Over lunch the next day, the guides discussed options for me. On another lease “just down the road” the guys had set up a hay bale blind, on an large, centre pivot alfalfa field. Here, there were probably a hundred or so Pronghorn. The trick would be to get them to the blind. I followed Doug down in another pickup. We would park one vehicle outside of the field and use the other to drive into the field. The idea was to park his truck to hide the view of me setting up the buck decoy and getting into the blind. It seemed to work and after the pickup departed, the antelope went about their normal business. They were funny critters to watch. The dominate male was very impressive but never came any closer than 400 yards. Other, smaller males would saunter in his direction. He would start trotting and then run full tilt towards them, snorting and carrying on, running them off his patch. The legs go a thousand mile an hour but their heads don’t move. The light rain had now turned to sleet, so I’d clipped up most of the blind windows - it was proper cold for a Queenslander. About 2 hours in and I was thinking of pulling the pin - these things aren’t gunna fall for this. Low and behold from my right, comes an antelope, strutting towards the big buck and his harem. He passed me at about 100 yards and didn’t even give the decoy a second look. He kept on his path to the larger group. The big guy was ready for him and went to action. I thought, this just might work in my favour here, so I started to ready myself. The decoy was at 18 yards, I’d ranged that about 50 times. The dominant buck chased the intruder straight towards my blind. At about 60 yards out the intruder noticed the decoy. His head went up with a sort of “hey, who are you?”. He kept coming, oblivious to my presence. At a closer distance I had the opportunity to get the range finder on him - 38 yards. Right, I’m gunna take him if he offers a shot. He turned more broadside but still quartered on. I put the 40 pin on the front of his shoulder and let it go. Just as the arrow left the string, he took a half step forward. The arrow was on him in a blink and hit him just behind the shoulder, right on the crease - BUGGAR. He bolted out to about 100 yards and lay down. Right, I thought, he’s hurt bad. Probably 10 minutes went past and yet another bigger buck came close to the blind. The action must have made him curious. He was 30 only yards from me, so I got the phone out and took some pics and a little bit of video. Looking back to my animal, he was now laying on his side. There were no chest movements visible through the binos. I gave him another 20 minutes and saw no movement at all. Exiting the blind, I moved slowly towards him with an arrow on the string, just in case. I need not have bothered. He was long gone and had started to stiffen with rigor. Antelope tag notched 27th September 2019. A few pics and then figuring how to get him to the pickup, about 1km back. I figured, work smarter not harder and drove the pickup out to him. By the time the guys got back from the afternoon hunt session, I’d all but finished the caping. I was just finishing up around the face when Doug rolled in. He was as thrilled as I was that I got an antelope. Black Bear tag to go.

“Bonus Antelope“
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I was out with Doug in his very new side by side buggy one morning, doing some reccy work. We got down into a valley floor and something caught his eye. The ground was disturbed and all tore up. Looking in the creek bottom, we spied a dead elk, a VERY fresh mountain lion kill. It was like a CSI episode tracing the tracks back to where the lions had grabbed the elk and then wrestled it into the creek. We had obviously disturbed them, because it was snowing and there was no snow on the elk carcass, it was that fresh. Doug then looks up into the trees and says “they’re watching us right now”. I have to say, every hair on my neck was up and does the same when I recount this event. The sudden realisation that 2 large predators are watching you will do this. I suggested that we not be here and get out of dodge. Doug didn’t take much convincing either.

“Fresh Mountain Lion kill”
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“Big cat tracks”
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“Mother nature turned it on for the Aussies”
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With a few days to go, Robbo had tagged out also. His guide was chauffeuring us around into some other hunting areas. He talked about heading over to Moose Hill. Remembering the “hill” we tracked the black bear up, I candidly asked it there was such a thing as Moose Flat. He looked bewildered and then got the joke. Robbo and I saw a few nice Whitetail here but they were elusive in the shifting breeze. With the sleet coming down, we pulled the pin and decided on a trip back to town and grab a six pack. Robbo and I wandered into the tavern, still in our camo. There were 2 older guys sitting at the bar, with their backs to us. Well, when I asked for a couple of beers, their necks near snapped they turned that quick. They don’t get too many Aussies in these parts. We had a quick beer, grabbed a six pack and said our goodbyes. A quiet couple of beers were in order with dinner that night. The magnificent Montana adventure was drawing to a close. So many memories and a trip of a lifetime. Thanks for the company lads.

I want to say a big thank you to all the folks on this forum that provided answers to my many questions prior to my hunt.
 
Sounds like an awesome adventure. Congrats on a successful trip.

Are you able to hunt in Aussie at the moment?
 
It was a trip of a lifetime for sure. What an excellent experience. The outfitter and his crew were #1.

No hunting In my state BUT if you have a letter from a primary producer / farmer saying you are allowed to control feral animals, it’s possible. A heap of travel restrictions Still in place and plenty of hefty fines being handed out for “none essential travel”
 
What part of QLD? I’ve got friends in Buderim and I sailed a 35’ boat from Fiji to Southport a year ago.

Great write up and great hunt.
 
Looks like a fantastic trip! Thanks for sharing and glad you guys had such a good adventure
 
Looks like an amazing time!! How did you like the elk meat? How does it compare to anything back home?

We all loved the Elk. We had several meals with it. I liken it too grass fed cow. I bet if I fed it to folks here they couldn’t tell the difference.
The Antelope was a different story - I could take it or leave it. Very strong herby flavour to it, the one we ate anyway.
 
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