Better Late Than Never, Hopefully

I always find walking up on an animal to be sobering. This morning was especially so as the sudden joy of making the shot faded as I thought about what my parents were going through and how much I wish my dad had been there with us. We were able to get a text through and he was on his way to help quarter which was a consolation. With his famous navigation skills, he was able to make the hour long trip in under 2.5 hours.

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I don't know if any of you have realized this, but elk are big. I have watched all of the gutless videos by @Big Fin innumerous times but it still felt like I was blindly hacking away at flesh and bone. Eventually, the elk was reduced to pieces small enough to pack out. The elk ended up dying 250 yards from a road but we took a 1/3 mile route to avoid the worst of the deadfall.

The kill was also sobering in that I realized how short my window is to pursue elk. My hip has never been the same after getting hit by a car two years ago. Training hikes with 30lb packs let me know that any pack out would at best be deeply uncomfortable. Packing out quarters felt like my hip was caught in a vise. I was lucky to make it 100 yards without stopping for a break. Adding in a bad back and knees, I figure I have a few seasons of elk hunting left if I stay somewhat close to roads.
 
I saved a patch of hide to tan for DIY chopper mitts. If anyone has templates I would be appreciative.

I fired my rifle at 8AM, and it was 9PM by the time we arrived home after breaking camp. A gourmet meal of Whoppers and beer was had. We hung the quarters in the garage, thankful for a brief period of cold in an otherwise warm fall. Three days of processing followed. Lucky for me, my BIL's flights were cancelled two days straight, so I got an extra helping hand for the processing (even though he hates it). Pro tip: don't feed the cat elk. They develop a taste for it quick.
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By now, you're probably wondering about that dog. On the last day of processing we get a call. He's been found sleeping in someone's barn. My mom was able to pick him up after 6 days of being on the run. Skinny as a rail and slightly traumatized but finally home.

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More celebratory beers were had. My dad decided to pack up and drive home with processing done and the dog found. The western hunting bug was implanted and the process has begun to bring everyone out for a group pronghorn hunt. So gimme the BEST 3-4 point pronghorn areas in Wyoming. Wives were convinced to buy their husbands preference points, so they'll be getting a nice surprise in a few years. It will probably be my dad's last big hunting trip.
 
Well done and congrats !
Next time take a couple of Mitch's beers from the Library, he does cans too.

Glad to see the dog was found and your cat looks like ours, from the back. She also loves all the horns and antlers that come home, especially pronghorn.
 
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