Elk on Aldo’s boot prints

I’m a stubborn sort... the kind of guy who, even as a young boy tarried at the deep, bubbling pool because it looked like a good place for a fish... even if I didn’t catch any. So, the following morning, I still planned to hit that high basin. The day before I couldn’t see 100 yards, but perhaps the next day would be different. I awoke to temperatures in the low teens, clear skies, and no fresh boot prints at the trailhead.
The hike up the blowdown-filled trail revealed no other headlamps, and I reached the basin at first light. Right on cue, a bachelor band of six bulls fed across the top, angling toward to the safety of the thick aspen regrowth.
I hustled up the trail as far as I dared and laid my pack down in the trail. The largest bull in the bunch was in the lead and clearly feeding his way toward bedding cover. But he managed to linger long enough for me to rest my 7mm Wby across my pack and touch one off.
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Looks like a beautiful place to harvest a bull! Congrats!
 
I had a lot to be thankful for that Thanksgiving weekend. Wild places conserved by forward-thinking people. A dad who regained enough strength to join me on the trip. And the blessing of this elk-hunting endeavor which brought a smile to a year that needed one. Praise to the Creator of Aldo’s mountain! And thanks to some fine guys here on HT who graciously shared info and insight @Blacktailbc @npaden @jabber @Gr8bawana
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Great Hunt! You got me re-thinking my potential choices for '21.
 
Great story and bull! Congrats! Very special your dad got to make the trip and up to the kill site.
 
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