Average Joe's 2019

Day 1

After a poor night of sleep, we were up and ready to go far earlier than we needed to be. The tent was thick with excitement. I savoured the warmth of my morning coffee and crushed a packet of ramen. The herd quit bugling around 3am, but we assumed they hadn’t traveled too far.

The wind was good, and the rain was supposed to hold off until midday. We walked a few hundred yards and I let out a bugle to locate the herd…. They weren’t far. Maybe 150yds. I bugled 2 or 3 times and did some cow calls. 4 different bulls responded.

The spot was fairly thick, but we didn’t really have much of a choice. We did our best to cut downwind, but only made it a few yards before the first bull appeared to our right, the down wind side. He trotted to about 50yds away, saw us, and turned around. I bugled at him and aggressively raked some trees. A different bull bugled to our left and ran toward us. I signalled to Alan to find a lane and get ready while I setup 40 yards behind Alan. I cow called twice and broke a few branches. He bugled, moved a few yards closer, stopped, and bugled again.

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He wasn’t in a clear lane for Alan, so I mewed quietly and broke a few branches to keep the bull's attention on me. The bull bugled, moved to the right a few yards and out of my sight…

THWACK!!!

Alan sent an arrow and the bull took off in the direction he came from. I bugled a few times and Alan have me a thumbs up with a giant grin on his face. The other bulls kept bugling. I looked at my watch…. We were only 25 minutes into the season.

I walked up to Alan and asked about the shot. He felt it was good, but he didn't see the arrow impact and couldn't tell for sure. I was concerned since the bull was slowly walking when he took the shot. I was hoping for the best.

We waited 30 minutes before checking the impact site.

As we were waiting, an elk randomly appeared where we last saw the bull Alan shot. It was a bull. Other than being a bull we couldn't see enough detail through the thick brush to tell if it was a different elk or Alan's bull. I lightly mewed at it, and it slowly walked away.

I didn't get a warm fuzzy from seeing that bull walk away from us the way he did. Something just didn't feel right.

After the 30 minutes passed, we examined the impact area and found some blood, but not enough to make me think it was a slam dunk. We followed it for about 60yds and found a small puddle in a meadow where it looked like he stood still for a moment.

We only found a few drops after that. So we decided to sit, eat lunch, and give him a few hours. Unfortunately, the forecast called for several days of nearly constant rain. My hopes of finding him were not very high. I didn't know what kind of hit it was, but I knew it wasn't a perfect double lung or heart shot and the evidence was less than encouraging.

We thoroughly searched a 400 yard grid before we decided to just walk in the direction we watched the random elk walk. The herd was still bugling off and on. We assumed the wounded bull would try to keep up with the herd if possible. So we cautiously walked their direction.

As luck would have it, just under a mile away from the shot, I spotted a bull standing in the bottom of a thick drainage. He was less than 100 yards away, but I couldn't get a clear look at him. It was 1 o'clock at this point, roughly 6hrs after the shot.

The rest of the herd was further down the mountain, and still bugling regularly. As the bull turned toward the bugles my heart sank. It was Alan's bull. He was hit really low, but left and right was decent. We needed to get another arrow in him, but the vegetation was just too thick to get it done before he walked off toward the rest of the elk. Alan made a quick move to see if he could close the distance and get another arrow in him, but the bull was gone.

Watching that bull walk away into the rain and fog was one of the toughest moments I've ever spent in the woods. The call setup was perfect, the bull was mature and came well into range. There was no way to turn back time to redo the shot. It was everything you dream about in the off season. Despite the discouraging evidence, there was still a chance we'd find him.

We gave him another hour. The spot the bull had been standing over had a handful of blood droplets, but nothing encouraging. We followed his track for another 300 yards, but found zero blood and no elk. The bugles from the rest of the elk were getting further and further away. I looked at Alan and his face was wrought with disappointment. I tried my best to stay positive, but the situation was what it was.

Unfortunately, in all my time hunting I've seen a lot of wounded animals, and from what I saw on that bull, I didn't think he was going to die. He didn't seem sluggish, and he never bedded down. The wound was extremely low, and if he was hit in a lung I would have expected a little more blood and different behavior. The bull looked fine. Having been on countless blood trails, I know ANYTHING can happen, but this one didn't look like it would have a happy ending. We decided to climb the mountain, give the herd some space, and we'd come back in the morning.

We walked up the mountain to the spot I'd seen the nice bull two days earlier. We heard bugles in that direction in the morning and figured it would be worth a shot for an afternoon setup. The wind was consistent and the rain and fog got a little bit thicker by the time we got to the peak. It was almost prime time.

I let out a soft bugle and a couple cow calls. And just like you see on TV, we got a few responses. They weren't very far, so we moved in for a closer look. We made it maybe 20 yards and spotted the first few elk feeding up the mountain. One of em was a small raghorn about 150 yards away. We moved to our right and tried to get in front of them. Just for fun, I let out a deep aggressive bugle with a few chuckles.

I immediately got an aggressive response from a large sounding bull… and CLOSE. He was between us and the raghorn. I caught a glimpse of him as he destroyed a few young aspen trees. He was definitely mature. Big enough for sure. I motioned to Alan to get ready, the bull was coming, and we had a good shooting lane in front of us. Alan moved forward and got into position. We both had arrows nocked. I ranged a few trees and started grabbing my camera, hoping to catch a few pics of Alan making the shot.

As I unlatched my camera from my shoulder strap, I saw the bull enter the shooting lane. He saw us and turned to walk away. I looked at Alan and asked, "Hey, you shooting? You shooting? You gonna shoot him?" No response and he wasn't drawing back. I was confused. "I'm shooting."

"Ok."

I drew back, floated my pin on the spot and executed the shot.

I couldn't see the hit through the mist that came off my soaking wet bow, but the shot felt good. The bull was quartered away so it was a high odds shot, and there was no way I missed him at that distance. Alan didn't see the hit, but it sounded like I either hit the elk or an invisible tree. I didn't see the bull run off, but he crashed for a few yards and the woods went silent…. Until another bull further down the mountain let out a bugle. (The rest of the elk were just getting warmed up)

We saw a spike and a few cows coming up the mountain but moving diagonally away from us, so we moved a few yards to the right to get a better look. Maybe my bull was with them. I pulled up my binos and there he was. Standing 70 yards away. He looked hurt as he walked away. I instantly went into kill mode. I didn't look for blood or where I hit the bull. I just saw that he was still standing and I live by the motto of "still standing, still shooting." So I had to shoot him again. The bull looked back over his shoulder as he struggled to trot away. I trotted after him. (I saw GIANT mule deer about 50 yards away from me as I was moving, but didn't think to pull up the camera to take a pic… it was killin time!)

The bull rounded a small ridge and stopped with his head low to the ground. I snuck to 50 yards, drew back, carefully aimed and shot. To my surprise, the bull stood up and booked it down hill. I didn't realize it before the shot, but he had actually laid down on the steep hillside. I thought he was just standing there. It wasn't until Alan said, "Dude, why'd you shoot him again? Look at the ground… and your gaiters. There's literally blood... everywhere."

My tunnel vision cleared and I was finally able to look around and see things.

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Sure enough, there was a path of blood nearly 3 feet wide on his trail. There was enough blood on the thin grass that even a downpour didn't wash it off before it stuck to my gaiters. I felt relieved, but was hoping my second arrow didn't give him a bump of adrenaline; enough to send him into the next county.

We decided to wait at the spot the bull laid down. At that spot there was a huge pool of blood running down the hillside. He was dead. It was just a matter of finding him. While we waited, the rest of the elk kept bugling and we were visited by a curious forkie.

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The rain let up and the fog lifted slightly. As I was eating some Starburst jelly beans, I noticed a large white-ish tan object through the trees about 100yds away…. It was my bull!

He was laying down at the edge of a meadow. His head was on the ground. He was dead.
 
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We spent the rest of daylight breaking down the bull and only packed out one load that night. It was plenty cold to have him hang over night. We'd get the rest of the meat the next day after looking for Alan's bull. Luckily, we didn't have too rough of a pack out… There was a road 240 yards away… downhill… through a meadow. It was BY FAR my easiest pack out.

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It's hard for me to figure out the right way to express what I was feeling as we broke down the bull. Even now after thinking it over for a few hours(unable to fall asleep thinking about Alan's bull and how this pouring rain isn't helping that situation), I still struggle to put the best words to the experience. I'm stoked we were able to kill a bull of that caliber, and I'm extremely thankful to be able to share it with a great friend.

But…. There was just something missing. The entire time, up to the point where Alan didn't draw back, I wasn't even considering shooting an elk. There was no adrenaline rush. It happened so fast, and I was so focused on getting my camera ready, hoping Alan would get the shot, that I never felt like I was hunting for myself. My hunt lasted about 5 seconds, or however long it took me to draw my bow back and shoot. I didn't feel like it was my turn. I had already lived this moment. I've felt the adrenaline and the incredible satisfaction that comes with killing an elk. But I wanted Alan to have it first. It sucked we didn't find his bull.

For months I had envisioned filling my tag after a long, grueling hunt, with tons of bugles and countless close calls that didn't quite pan out. I was hoping to play a multi day cat and mouse game with an ancient herd bull who I'd eventually outsmart. It all happened so quick, faster than I could digest, and my mind wasn't ready for it. I'm happy but with a pinch of regret/guilt.

[Looking back on it now several days later, I couldn't be more thankful for how it turned out. I wrote the above story late on the same night I killed the bull. I considered taking that last paragraphs out, but ultimately decided to keep it in there because it's actually what I was thinking. My lesson learned is to keep my expectations in check. I don't mean 'keep your expectations low,' or that high expectations are bad. I just think I had already written the hunt in my mind, and was disappointed when I read the actual book. It was sort of like conjuring up your own movie plot based solely off the trailer and then not enjoying the movie because you thought it would be different. This hunt reemphasized how important it is to embrace whatever happens, and to enjoy it for what it is, not what you wish it could have been.]
 
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Day 2

The plan for day 2 was to look for the wounded bull, and make a determination if Alan would punch his tag or keep hunting.

(Alan didn't shoot at the bull I killed because he wasn't sure about the bull he hit. I know some guys punch their tag if they draw blood, and that it's the law to do that in certain places. I don't have any issue with that, but personally, I'm going to keep hunting if I feel I put in the effort to search for the animal or I confirm it was not a lethal hit. Alan decided we had a little more effort to put in to the search, and we really couldn't confirm if it was a non-lethal shot. There was a good chance the bull would be bedded down and stiff or dead. So he made the right decision to give the elk a full 24 hours.)

We did a thorough grid search of every drainage and the whole side of the mountain the herd was on the day prior. We found nothing. We followed the day old tracks the herd left behind. They brought us to a spring fed wallow not too far from the last spot we saw the bull. After several hours of two professional hide and seekers methodically searching across the mountain and finding zero signs of a wounded animal, Alan made the decision to keep hunting.

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We quickly packed the rest of my elk off the hill and headed back up the mountain for the afternoon hunt.
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Evening of Day 2

We didn't hear many bugles in the morning, so we decided to get up high and finally check out the spots I hoped would be good for glassing.

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The vegetation was thicker than I'd hoped for, but it was decent enough to make me feel like I could see stuff. We were also glad that the rain finally stopped.

Alan spotted the first elk almost immediately. It was a raghorn 5x5. At this point, after the action packed day we had the day before, that little bull was no longer on Alan's target list. He told me he was going to pass on cows, spikes and raghorns… (I won't lie, I felt quite a bit of pressure after he upped his standard) It was still fairly early and there had to be more elk in the area, so we kept glassing.

After 30 minutes I picked out 4 bulls on the adjacent ridge. One of them was nice.

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He wasn't very far and the wind and terrain were conducive for a stalk. So we gave it a shot.

I cow called a few times when we got about 200 yards from the bull in the picture. A couple bulls (2 or 3) responded with unenthusiastic bugles. I raked a tree and they bugled at that too. I told Alan to move in and kill one of them. I'd keep them bugling.

I raked more aggressively and let out several bugles. Finally a mature sounding bugle responded and seemed to be coming closer… and closer… and closer. I could hear the bull walking.

Everything was out of sight on the other side of the ridge, but I assumed Alan was going to get a shot anytime now. The elk was close. The bull only needed to take a handful of steps, but the wind did what it's done hundreds of times before… it swirled 180 degrees and sent the elk up and over the next ridge.

We walked to the bed from the bull in the picture and I let out half a dozen bugles. By this point there were more elk bugling than what we could ever hunt in one afternoon. So we picked the oldest sounding one with the best wind and started walking toward it.

Before we dropped off the back side of the ridge, I half jokingly told Alan to keep an eye out… I bet there's a bull just on the other side of the hill coming to see what the commotion was all about. Well… I guess I shouldn't joked, because there actually was a bull right there on the other side of the hill. He had is pegged. I bugled at him as he turned and ran away. He bugled back. The game was still on.

The bull ran ⅔'s of the way up the adjacent ridge. So we went after him. We dropped a few hundred feet in elevation and had to climb about 800ft to get up to his level. Light was fading fast, so we had to move quickly. There wasn't much time to stop and call.

As we climbed, a few other bulls showed up in the patch of oak scrub we were trying to get to. There were elk everywhere, and we weren't far from them so we decided to setup and call.

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I ended up calling 2 spikes and a raghorn into easy bow range for Alan, but the bigger bull managed to skirt around us without giving Alan a clear shot. He wasn't dumb enough to walk through the wide open, instead he opted for the shoulder high oak scrub. He winded us and ran off.

We finished climbing to the top of the ridge where we ended the last 5 minutes of shooting light in a stare down with a big bull at 20 yards. All we could see was his head and antlers through a patch of fir trees and oak scrub. After about an eternity, I finally said "screw it, let's get back and get some sleep." I didn't care if he spooked. There were plenty of elk in the area and we were the only hunters around. No sense in wasting precious sleep time. The bull ended up running a few yards and bugled at us as we hiked past. So we just walked back to camp with lifted spirits after a fun afternoon of elk hunting.

It was almost like we were hunting out of season in a closed area. We couldn't believe it. Back at camp we actually checked and rechecked several times to make sure we were actually hunting in the unit and season our tags said we could hunt. It was unreal.
 
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Day 3

We wanted to see if we could relocate the bull Alan hit the first day, so we headed that direction well before sunrise. The hope was to find the herd, get in close, watch them and maybe see if we could confirm whether or not Alan's bull was ok. It was relatively windy, and we didn't hear any bugles close by. We did a quick search for Alan's bull in a drainage we didn't think we covered well enough the first time. We didn't find anything, and it looked like the herd left that side of the mountain. There wasn't any fresh sign, so we pushed further down the mountain.

We were almost to the bottom when we heard a faint bugle way up at the top. It almost sounded like it was on the other side of the mountain. I bugled, it bugled back. I bugled again, and it responded again. We climbed to the top of the nearest ridge to get a better idea of where the sound was coming from. I bugled again and the bull responded on the opposite ridge. After a few cow calls, the bull appeared in the open above one of the steepest drainages on the mountain. The him was nearly vertical, and there was a rock cliff on our side.

"There's no way he's coming over here." I said.

Alan responded, "There's no way I'm going over there for that bull." (It was a young 5x5)

"I guess I'll have to bring him over here."

"Yeah, if he comes all the way over here… I guess I'll have to shoot him," Alan laughed.

The bull bugled a few times on top of the ridge, so I hit him with some loud and excited cow calls. He turned and came straight down the steepest part of the drainage. He stopped half way down to rake a few trees and catch his breath. I kept calling. He kept coming.

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I looked at Alan and said, "dude… we better get in a better spot. He definitely coming. You ready to kill him?..... Oh, and don't miss."

I looked at my map and found a long, thin clearing just below us so we moved down about 30 yards.

The bull was coming on a string, and he only had one path to get out of the bottom of the drainage. I started getting a little excited, because I knew it was gonna happen. Everything was too perfect.

After a few cow calls and exchanging a few back and forth bugles with the bull, he finally appeared through the trees on our side of the drainage. He was coming straight for me, and would walk right by Alan. It was textbook…

Until it wasn't.

The bull saw Alan draw and stopped. I cow called and shuffled some leaves to hopefully calm him down.

It worked. He kept coming.

I put my eye to the viewfinder of my camera. The image was going to be epic! The bull stepped into an opening so I mewed quietly to stop him.

Before I could get my finger on the shutter, the arrow was on its way. The hit looked good, dead center up and down, slightly forward, but the bull was slightly quartered to Alan at the shot. I saw blood pouring out immediately. It was a good shot, but I missed it with my camera. 🤦‍♂️ Oh well.

We decided to sit, eat breakfast and wait 30 minutes before going to check the impact sight.

After 27 minutes I looked up the drainage and saw a brownish/cinnamon colored animal through a tiny gap in the trees. I thought it was a bear because it was round and really low to the ground. When I pulled up my binos for a better look, the first thing I saw was set of elk antlers... upside down… rolling down the steep drainage.

"Yeah… ah… I don't think we have to wait the full 30 minutes. That's your bull rolling down to the bottom of the drainage." I said.

"What?"

"That bull is dead. D.E.D. dead."

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We killed it in the bottom of one of the steepest drainages in the area, and as far away from a road as possible. Despite that, it still wasn't a very tough pack out. We were back to camp with all the meat in time to make a run to town for a delicious green chili cheeseburger.
 
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One of the projects I've been working on is a DIY re-barrel of my old 257 wby. It's been a good rifle, but the barrel was toasted.

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Since I already have all the tools for Savage barrel swap, I decided to go with a Howage barrel nut and a 1:7 twist to take advantage of a few new bullets which should extend the legs of Roy's favorite cartridge. I could have gone with any of the "modern precision cartridges" but the 257wby has a ton of nostalgic value to me. I'm glad there are finally a few bullets available to take advantage of the case capacity.

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So far the 128 Hammer shows lots of promise.

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I'm doing some validation this afternoon and also testing velocities with the 131 Blackjack.

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I'm on leave this week and have a couple options for hunting. Plan A is to go kill an OTC barbary here in NM. If I kill one tomorrow, I'll go to Oklahoma and chase after some OTC antelope with my bow. Dan might come out to Oklahoma for some deer hunt, so I'll join him if he does. Should be a busy week of hunting for me.
 
Reports and a few of my contacts say the unlimited tag 365 day season is crushing the barbary population. I think that's a good thing considering this should be prime dessert bighorn country.

That said, there's still a few out here and likely will be forever. I saw a dozen or so ewes, babies and small rams this morning. Nothing that got me excited. So I napped midday.

This afternoon I spotted a small herd with a decent ram in it around 5pm... Problem was they were about 3 miles away, and in this terrain that might as well be in Old Mexico. But I have it a shot anyways.

Managed to get to where I'd last spotted them with plenty of light left... But they moved 1400yds up the canyon.

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A quick 6 mile hike this afternoon has me drenched in sweat, but it was fun. I'll be back at it in the morning... Hopefully they're a bit closer tomorrow, maybe bigger too.
 
Reports and a few of my contacts say the unlimited tag 365 day season is crushing the barbary population. I think that's a good thing considering this should be prime dessert bighorn country.

That said, there's still a few out here and likely will be forever. I saw a dozen or so ewes, babies and small rams this morning. Nothing that got me excited. So I napped midday.

This afternoon I spotted a small herd with a decent ram in it around 5pm... Problem was they were about 3 miles away, and in this terrain that might as well be in Old Mexico. But I have it a shot anyways.

Managed to get to where I'd last spotted them with plenty of light left... But they moved 1400yds up the canyon.

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A quick 6 mile hike this afternoon has me drenched in sweat, but it was fun. I'll be back at it in the morning... Hopefully they're a bit closer tomorrow, maybe bigger too.
They look just like the rocks
 
Cliff hiking is not fun.

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I missed a decent ram a little while ago. They ran to the bottom of the canyon and I didn't see them come out yet. I'm gonna give em a few more minutes then I'll drop in after them. Hopefully I don't get cliffed out.
 
Cliff hiking is not fun.
But it sure does wonders for your hair,I think you scared
them into the next county.Ha!Ha! They are wating down there and
your going to shoot one.Then they get the last laugh cause you gotta haul
that sucker back out... 🔥
 
I'm still not dodging my elk stories..... things are not looking good here for the situation I am dealing with, so I have been busy.

In other news I drew a fantastic hunt down here in Florida that'll be Jan 31st through Feb 3rd.
It's on a closed Army range, so no shortage of deer.

I am 18 days away from being able to deer hunt and I cannot wait. I need a woods break right now!
 
Cliff hiking is not fun.
But it sure does wonders for your hair,I think you scared
them into the next county.Ha!Ha! They are wating down there and
your going to shoot one.Then they get the last laugh cause you gotta haul
that sucker back out... 🔥

They left the bottom of the canyon and were halfway up the other side of the canyon before I made it halfway down. The must have made a pitstop to grab some water before walking up the other cliff. It's too bad I'm not a little quicker. They weren't all that far from the truck at the bottom.

Back at it in the morning.
 
If your lucky they may repeat the pattern tomorrow and
you can sit on the tailgate and wait. 🔥
 

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