Big Colorado Whitetails... I mean... Elk

[rmyoung1]

Perhaps one of the curses of hunting a well-regarded unit for the first time is that you show up with certain expectations. This fall I arrived in Colorado's GMU 61 with a cow tag. My hunting buddy, Doug, is set to draw a bull tag next year, and we figured that a cow-hunting preview would be a great way to learn a few things before the bull hunt. We counted ourselves ultra-fortunate when another gracious HuntTalker, Holden, reached out with invaluable information and generosity. Armed with good maps, insider info, and Holden's wife's freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies, our optimism soared as we rolled out of Delta two days before the start of the second rifle season. This was gonna be easy, right? How could we lose? We had more information than we could gather in a decade of hunting the place. And, besides, we've seen the TV shows. Sure, the pack-outs can be a real bear, but it looks like there are elk in every canyon in the unit. How hard could this possibly be?

We rolled into the National Forest and set up a posh wall tent camp at a spot Holden pointed out. He gave us a quick overview of our hunting area and told us he'd be back if work allowed. Life was good, and getting out of the cot the next morning to scout was easy. Pop-tarts and coffee in the cab of truck while picking out elk feeding on the oak brush hillsides only added to the self-confidence.

 

[rmyoung1]

Warm temperatures greeted us on opening morning, but who cares? This is 61, right? Elk love getting shot in this unit. And I was sure we'd be back at the tent by lunchtime with a notched tag. Well... we were back at the tent at lunchtime. It was hot. My elk tag sat undisturbed in my pocket, and we'd seen exactly one elk who sat a mile away feeding quite securely with 8 ba-jillion oak brush patches between us. The elk seemed to know that even if we could dodge the oak brush thickets that we'd have a little trouble hovering over the corn-flake-crunchy leaves that carpeted the hillside. Small doubts started to creep, but I washed them down with more sugar, and we headed out for our afternoon hunt.

 

[rmyoung1]

We didn't find anything that afternoon, and a quick text to Holden brought the suggestion to hunt a long aspen-covered bench not far from our campsite. It seemed like a good idea, and we hit the bench at first light the following morning. The crunchy leaves and thick aspen maze made it difficult to navigate, but a couple of miles from the main road we found plenty of elk sign. But the noise we made getting there was a problem. After two more days of hunting that bench, we knew elk were frequenting the spot, but getting in there without them knowing seemed impossible, even with favorable wind. We did find an open meadow at the far end that held deep grass and water. Doug fell in love with the spot, but my frustration mounted. I don't like stump-sitting. I enjoy glassing up game and executing a stalk. But my logical hunting partner didn't care too much for my preferences. After all, we were here to hunt elk. Right is right. Wrong is wrong. Futile hunting tactics are futile. And stupid is still stupid. Eventually, even I had to admit that he was making some sense, and I began to listen.

The aspen maze...

 

[rmyoung1]

Doug was right. The only way to kill one of these elk was to treat it like a whitetail and stay still. We made too much noise moving around. Even when we did manage to glass up an elk, the extraordinarily narrow shooting lanes made it nearly impossible to get off a shot at an alert elk. So... for the better part of the next two days we sat at the edge of that meadow, behind a make-shift ground blind, overlooking the water and feed. It was slow, but Doug talked me out of my frustration and we sat. And sat. And sat... until, finally, three hours before the end of our hunt, I glanced over to my left to see two cows and a calf feeding unaware at the edge of our waterhole. After a few moments to calm the sudden buck (or cow) fever, I settled the crosshairs on one of the cow's shoulders and let it rip. Few punched tags have been as satisfying. I'm thankful for these public lands, for hunting buddies old and new and for big Colorado whitetails... I mean... elk.

 

[fords4life]

Congratulations on a successful hunt! Everyone is different and a great learning experience.

 

[JohnCushman]

Awesome!

 

[Walkitoff]

Great write up, and great hunt my friend. Once in a while, we out fox em'.

 

[elkduds]

Little known fact: cow elk from 61 are the best-tasting elk, bar none. Excellent result for those difficult, dry, corn flake conditions.

 

[rmyoung1]

Little known fact: cow elk from 61 are the best-tasting elk, bar none. Excellent result for those difficult, dry, corn flake conditions.

I don’t doubt it. She was the fattest cow I’ve ever skinned out.

 

[zadvorney]

You have more patience than I do. Glad it paid off.

 

[marksjeep]

Outstanding. Congrats!

 

[1_pointer]

Sweet!! This season taught me all too much about overly high expectations...

 

[Duck-Slayer]

Congrats on the sweet taste of success and elk backstrap steaks all winter,
Matt

 

[Gerald Martin]

Congrats on a fine Colorado "whitetail" cow!

 

[el unit]

All meat, no bone. Yum! Good harvest!

 

[Redman]

Congratulations on a fine tasting elk!

 

[noharleyyet]

Enjoyed the story..congrats on quite a few delicious meals.

 

[MT_elk]

Congratulations!

 

[Lone Elk]

Congrats on the elk. Sometimes a change of tactics and just pure patience is what it takes to punch a tag. Nice write up, thanks for sharing.

 

[Rocky176]

I enjoyed your story, thanks for sharing. Congratulations. I leave on Tuesday for the 4th season. Hope I have a little of your luck.