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Congrats, you've got the curse.....

EYJONAS!

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I've been on the fence of a story for a little while now on my 2020 elk adventures. Was I gonna contribute? Was I not? I am usually pretty good at busting some guys chops on this site for leaving us all hanging, waiting for an update or finding out what happened on their dream trip or hunt. Soooooo, I don't want to be that guy and I figure right now is as good as time as any to share a little adventure with you guys. Might be long winded might not be, it was an adventure that meant so much to me.

As we all know 2020 and even into 2021 the world has been off, so off in fact that after many, many years of applying for an elk permit my number was called. This was how I knew the universe seemed to be off, way off, I was speechless to say the least. I have had the great fortune over the years to assist on a few special permit elk hunts beside my family and friends and have been successful on some of my own "general" unit hunts. Yet, I have never been "the guy," holding said paperwork in pocket. Upon finding out I was flooded with emotion, it was a dream come true. The feeling of this is it, this is my year. The tag anxiety of don't f*** this up, this is your chance. To just relax and enjoy it this is what dreams are made of. I felt like a kid almost.....

Ever since I was a youngster, a hunt for a big bull has been such a dream of mine. I remember my Dad and Uncle going on horseback hunts in the hay days of the backcountry Gardiner park line hunts, Tom Minor, Taylor Fork etc. etc. I remember helping them get gear ready, oiling boots, saddles, packing trailers, watching Dad pack his bags dreaming of when it was going to be my time to go on my own hunt for a big bull. I'd wait up the night I knew they were coming home waiting to see if the tines would be sticking out of the pickup bed. For years this went on, this fire inside of me was out of control. The desire to hunt the bull was almost sickening, this would be what was the beginning of my obsession to elk hunting.
 
I've been around here a little while, some know that I am also obsessed with chasing Unlimited Sheep and Mountain Goats as well. This has impaired my thought process a little over the years but, always kept my focus on maintaining my applications for elk strictly rifle permit related.... I had accumulated a considerable amount of points. I wasn't going to burn them on a easy to draw archery permit, though it had crossed my mind a time or two. In the back of my mind though when it was my turn, I promised myself that sheep and goats would fall by the wayside and I would focus my resources to 100 percent hunting the bull.

2020 comes around and it's time to apply. What was I gonna do? With a good chance at drawing certain areas I thought, where do I want to be? What area gives me an opportunity to break off for a weekend rip if needed? Do I want to hunt areas that I have in the past with others? Who could I hunt with? Where does the big bull live? What's the access like? One thing is certain, if I didn't get a permit. I would chase the ram.........

April 15, 2020... the day the refresh button is literally worn out on almost every computer and cell phone in Montana. I can't help but walk around work staring at my phone in an oblivion. Refresh, Refresh, Refresh, the site goes down, Omg the they're out! Come on, "WORK YOU POS!"... it comes through SUCCESSFUL! ELK PERMIT! I literally push myself away from my desk and slam right into the wall behind me, taking a chunk of sheetrock out, WHAM! I can only imagine what the guy behind my office thought. I am walking around high-fiving people, like I just won the lottery. Then I collect myself, I double and triple check my numbers to make sure it's not a mistake. Rifle elk permit, I can't believe it this is it the year of the bull! I call my wife, dad, uncle, friends, people are literally getting sick of me.

Immediately that night the research begins, I call people I know that live in the area, send emails, send texts. Call the FWP warden and introduce myself, talk to anyone and everyone that I knew had some sort of knowledge of the area. This would go on for a matter of weeks, looking back on it I might have been jumping the gun but this is where my mind was with excitement. Through my time of conversation the one comment that keep repeating itself, over and over again from all of the locals and previous permit holders...... "Congrats, You've got the curse this year." I cant tell anyone how many times I've heard that. After awhile it resonated a little bit, it started the tag anxiety.
 
Summer comes, and it's not just any summer. We are in the middle of nothing that anyone would've ever expected, a worldwide pandemic. Having this major obstacle not only affect life as we know it was really something that weighed on me thoughts on this hunt. Not knowing how the reaction was from locals of an outsider coming down and asking around for permission in person I would make phone calls. TO introduce myself to as many as possible and maybe gather some knowledge. I wanted to make sure I maintained a safe but, interactive approach the best I could. I wasn't wanting to make anyone feel uncomfortable with what was going on.

As the summer progresses all I can think about is scouting. How's the summer going down there? When do I start? Where do I start? July? August? Cameras, how many? What's the environment like? It's fire season, it's dry, it's extremely hot, this is not good! BOOM! FIRES! Literally everywhere, spreading with no end in sight. Overtaking way points left and right. A panic starts...... shit, this is no f'n bueno! I start to over think things. Literally everything I have discussed, planned, scouted so far is on fire. WTF am I gonna do! Then, I have beers with one of my friends and he says....... "You need to relax, and remember that this is supposed to be fun. Do not loose sight of that." He is right, so I punt a little bit and look in other areas. I knew it was going to be difficult to find elk, lots of feed on the public was torched, the good feed would be where the water was and where the water was almost all private. No access to the majority of it. That's ok I'd still scout the area.......

Before the season begins towards the end of August, I decide I am going to scout for elk and sheep (I know right:rolleyes:). People think I am nut's when it comes to hunting sheep over elk but, it's a sickness I tell you. However, given the environment and from what I had already seen. If I could find a ram.. I would do a quick Mid-September sheep hunt then move to elk or hunt elk exclusively if I didn't find a ram. Plus it gave me the opportunity to shed a couple pounds and test some gear out too. A couple photos of the scouting trip...... taking me to 11k feet, and working off the summers GORDITA CRUNCHES and FRUITY BEERS ;). No Rams were found but, it got my legs workin, it also told me to focus on the bull now.
 
Scout 2 was me and a buddy get in the shit trip..... while it was a great time we never saw a living ungulate. It was hot, dry and smokey.

It was now time to focus exclusively on the wapiti.
 

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Elk scouting presented its obstacles as well. I needed to calm down, focus on areas vs. the big picture. I needed to pick areas apart. Scout early, and late in the days with a lot of downtime in between that really wasn't that enjoyable given how damn hot it was. However, through the last couple trips I managed to find a bull or two in the process and a couple worthy ones that I would be more than happy with.

Given the environment with little feed, most of the locals weren't seeing elk anywhere even very little for deer. There just wasn't places that were providing adequate feed and water on public so, I did my best to try and focus on certain areas where I knew elk would continue to frequent. I had 3 bulls that I seen a couple times that I my eye on. A couple other bulls that other people knew about as well, so going into September I was feeling pretty good about the opportunities.
 

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Hunting Trip #1

I'm not really high on hunting opening weekend, everyone is out, there are people setting up all over the place its a zoo. So I elect to wait till later in September and hopeful to catch some rutting activity. It always seems that given the year your hunting the "rut" is never normal. Its late, its early, its short, it doesn't happen..... whatever. In my mind Mid-September is when it starts, I've taken a couple archery bulls then and that was I was gonna do. So load up, wall tent, gear, Polaris Ranger (we'll get to this). I hit the road, solo, get to the area where I've been seeing bulls. Trailers and Tents everywhere, looks like Portland Oregon's tent city. I punt.....

Go to a completely different area, haven't scouted or anything because that makes sense right. Setup shop, get everything ready, have a couple silver bullets, load the ranger and go out. Cruising around I had a couple pins dropped on where I thought would be good so I hit it. Park, walk in about a mile, sit on a water tank. Mule Deer buck is bedded right next to tank. Perfect, this place is awesome its got green its got water there's deer here. Sit for a few hours and nothing. Then, I hear a faint bugle behind me. So I make a move working towards the bugle, I was jacked. Setup shop on what was the end of the road for me, with the bull bugle coming from private. I knock an arrow and call, this bull comes on a rope...... to 120 yards, a small 6pt. he stops, cautiously looking around, then another bugle OMFG its happening! This is great, but I'm running out of light. After the 2nd bull bugles the first one gets weary and retreats a bit, I don't ever end up seeing the second bull but I know where I am going on day 2.

Well, I should've known that the hunting gods would let it happen that easy, because as we've all experienced over the years the beauty and frustrations of hunting public land would set in. The next morning there was 2 quads parked where I had parked the day before, I go a little ways further and try anyways but I must of been hanging around where a bear or two was as well. There was literally berry puke everywhere I looked. I'd spend the day searching with not much action actually, no action at all for days 2, and 3. So I decide, it's time to punt again and a good buddy gives me a tip on where he'd seen a couple. Only problem....... its a 50 mile ride in the ranger, one-way.

The night of day 3 another camp comes in and sets up next to me, I mean right next too me. He's got horses, people with him, I can hear him pulling in during the night. This M******F****** is in MY spot! Oh, boy..... I come out of the tent, somewhat beered up (I know right big surprise). Make some small talk and offer to help him, even consider moving in the morning so he wanted to setup an area for his horses. He insisted no that it wouldn't be necessary. We exchange numbers, share a beer and get a game plan for the next day and go our separate ways.

Day 4........

The 50 mile ride sucks, and I mean really sucks. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels, however when I get to my destination. I lock eyes on a solid bull, working some cows. He's working them off of private, I do my best and attempt to try and get in front of them but the terrain and wind didn't help me as I was too late. I spend the rest of the day sitting on water. Nothing comes in..... about 330 I've had enough so I head back to camp and hunt close. Nothing was around and I was beginning to get the feeling of defeat for the trip.

Day 5.......

3:30 am, I fire up the ranger and beginning the drive. I hated every second of it, long, dusty just shit. But, I saw a bull in there I liked and I was going to try and find him. Went back to the area, only to find 3 new campers and trucks parked in areas there wasn't the day before. F*** Me I remember thinking. I hunt it out anyways, no elk, no bugles, its hot, there are 4 wheelers everywhere. Ah piss on it....... On the way out I smack the bottom of the ranger extremely hard on a rutted out road and a rock. Not thinking anything of it I begin to notice a sound, louder louder, then I get back onto the county rd. I notice the power is cutting out...... it dies, wont start, oh boy, this is not good, panic sets in, no service. I am 50 miles from my pickup and my ranger is F*****. An ol ranch boy stops, looks like you got trouble. He offers to save my ass and TOW ME. I said I am 50 miles away he says, "well, your gonna be awful dirty by the time I get you back. Off we go, I am literally red from head to toe from the dust, my gear is red everything is red, it takes over 2hrs to get to camp. Being pulled by a 4wheeelr and a 20ft chain. I get back and thank him offer to give him money, anything, he insists that I just pay it forward. I cant thank him enough, and pay it forward I did. That evening I came accross a kid after I had collected my thoughts and was up on the hill looking for some service that said he needed some help looking for a bull he had wounded. So I'd spend the the night helping him and his friends......... We were unable to locate said bull but we tried. I had heard he had found it a couple days later.

Day 6 I go home elk 1 Jonas 0....
 

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Hunt trip #2

I decide I'm waiting till October and cooler weather. Plus, I'm gong to another new area. I am gonna get the full experience I say. So when the time comes I load everything up and head out, solo again. I am trying another new area but, have some insight that some bulls have been in the area. I get into the zone, and setup my wall tent again. Get ready to rock and drive to the hunting area. I start into my hike and a mile or so I let out a faint cow call into a bottom..... BUGLE! I let out a faint bugle, BUGLE BACK! You bet, I work towards the call, he's starting to go pretty good into the evening. I continue to press on and get in there still having not seen him. I get to a ridge and let out a bugle........ nothing. Then I hear this, "pssst, hey pssst." My heart sinks, another hunter is calling at me. I turn around, "hey man did you see the bull?" Me, no, not yet. Him " he's f****** huge" great I think. Then his buddy shows up. We introduced ourselves and developed a plan. I didn't want to ruin their hunt and they didn't want to interfere with me. I offered to call and help pack. We didn't end up getting an opportunity on the bull that evening but, it was great to meet new hunters along the way. They actually gave me a ride back to my truck. We exchange a beer and laughs even phone numbers. I tell them I have a different plan tomorrow and we part ways...... so I thought. I get back to camp and eat some dinner and crash. The next morning I'm frantically searching for my binos ...... where in the hell are they. At 4 am I get a text from the guys on the ridge. We have your binoculars and rangefinder...... wow. What a dumbass, I am supposed to be meeting a buddy, in 30 minutes in the opposite direction. I tell them that I'll get them later and thank them for letting me know.
 
Enjoying a feast the night before I knew I left my binoculars in a strangers pickup......
 

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Fantastic story so far. Great story telling. The ups and downs, the suspense. Edge of my seat.
 

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