Fresh Tracks returns to Colorado

[Big Fin]

Kind of busy lately, so apologize for my absence in posting much over the last week. Was down here in Colorado doing my annual OTC elk hunt. Joining me was Hunt Talker, Still Kickin’ (Mark), who was here with a third season mule deer tag.

Not sure why we thought it would be good to try getting two episodes in five days, when last year, it was only by a stroke of luck and shooting the wrong buck that we were able to get even one episode. But, I am not the smartest guy around, so we showed up, two camera guys, two hunters, two tags, and determined to find a way to get a mule deer episode and an elk episode.

First morning was a bust. The area I normally hunt down here had six trucks at the parking spot (a very small parking spot), and I could see more ATV lights coming up the road. Not sure why this place became so popular all of a sudden. Surely not from our filming here, given the tough luck we have had at times. I later came to find out that most these guys had come up higher, as the lower road had been blocked off where it crossed private, and also some rumor or a huge deer having been seen.

With that unfolding circus, I told Mark and the camera guys, Brad and Matt that we were going to find a different spot. I needed to find a spot that had an opportunity for both elk and mule deer, which isn’t too easy, given the deer migrate much lower than the elk. I looked at the map, found a spot with very few roads, and told Mark we would go to the trail head and split up from there.

I did have a cow tag this year, in addition to my bull tag, so that seemed to provide a safety net, if need be. Yet, the area I picked was not an area that my cow tag was valid, so this was bull elk or nothing for me. It took us almost an hour to get there, so by the time we got near the trailhead, it was well past sunrise. Such is life when you are not familiar with the local changes.

My GPS said we were about a quarter mile from the trailhead when Mark started convulsing in some language I had not yet heard from him. We are both of Finnish ancestry, so I thought maybe he was speaking in Finn. Then I looked to where he was pointing. Holy crap.

Up on a hill, about a couple hundred yards off the road was a really, really, really nice buck. What are the odds of that? This would be the biggest buck we have ever shot on the show, by a long shot. It would be the biggest typical mule deer kill I would ever be associated with.

Not being road hunters, we were not the least bit prepared for an encounter. Our gear, our blaze orange, and all our gear was in the back of the truck, under the topper. The camera guys had been filming some clips on our way in, so they were ready. I was still wearing my Merrel Mocs.

Brad instructed Matt to get out and film the buck while he filmed Mark and me chattering in the truck. Mark decided that he did not want to shoot a buck just off this old mining road, so he told me to hurry forward to the parking area and he would get his gear gathered up and hustle back down the road to, in hopes he could stalk them up the ridge and maybe get a shot. Matt stayed and filmed while we pulled up the road a couple hundred yards to the parking area.

It was chaos. I tried to help Mark get his gear organized. In a hustle, he left without his backpack or shooting sticks. I walked to the edge of this parking spot and could see the doe leading the buck up the hill side. Catching up to them was going to be tough, especially for a guy who lives at 600’ elevation and was now scrambling up a rocky slope at 6,500’. I watched as the doe lead the buck over the crest of the ridge to the north side of this basin. The GPS said it was 1,000’ of elevation gain in less than a mile. Wish I could cover that much ground in such short order and make it look so easy.

As I was getting my junk organized, even changing into my boots, Mark came back to the truck to retrieve the remainder of his gear. He was questioning his decision. I told him to not feel pressured to do anything he otherwise would not do, just because of the pressure a TV show might cast on the situation. Mark is not fond of the road hunting gig, so I was not the least bit surprised when he told me to drive up the road and he would come back and take up the trail.

I had ranged the buck while Matt was filming him. Sitting in the driver’s seat, the TBR said 185 yards. I got a really good look at the buck while Matt was getting set up and we were trying to figure out what to do. He was only about 25” wide, but super heavy, tall, and with deep back forks and great fronts. Obviously, the burn area added some darkness to his horns.

It was decided Mark would go after the buck in hopes he would be able to find the doe. Brad would go with him while Matt and I would go high in hopes that an elk would make himself visible to me. I am not fond of hunting Junipers for elk, as they are so thick that it is super hard to get any footage. But, that is where we found ourselves. I would climb up high enough in hopes to get to the elevation where the junipers transition to the oak jungles.

Not much found on my trip. Saw a lot of deer, but nothing that would divert Mark’s attention from the buck he was chasing. I saw some elk sign, though pretty old. Good news was it looked to be mostly single tracks, bigger tracks, making me think it was the occasional bull that was hiding from hunters in these Junipers. They sure were hiding from me.

Around noon, I got back to the truck and met up with Mark. Seems the buck had made the ridge and disappeared into a big mess of Junipers. Damn the luck. As hard as I tried to console Mark that it was no big deal from a show standpoint, I don’t think I was very convincing. With the number of deer we were seeing, I was pretty confident that in five days, he would get a chance at a mature buck, and do so in a manner he came here for – spot and stalk.

 

[Big Fin]

A plan was made for Matt and I to head to some openings to the east, thinking bulls might feed out there as the sun dropped to the west. Mark would gain enough elevation to watch the ridges where the buck had disappeared, hoping the doe might bring him back out in an opening and allowing him to get a stalk on him. Plan was to meet back at the truck after dark.

Just as we were getting packs loaded for this evening hunt, I looked up at the hillside and with my naked eye, spotted a rag horn bull walking through some thick junipers on a small bench. No way, I must be seeing things. Matt confirmed I was not delusional, as he was hustling to get a clip of the bull.

I ranged the trees where he just disappeared – 351 yards. What the heck he was doing was beyond me, but he sure caught me by surprise. We scrambled up the hill to a small spot I thought would allow us an opening in the junipers and maybe provide a shot.

If you have never tried to catch up with an elk in the Junipers, just take my word for it. It is tough. Somehow, once they disappear, it is nearly impossible to guess which way they went. The knob I hoped would provide some view down into the thicket did not; just a view of a bunch more Juniper tops. I felt about as stupid as can be. A bull wanted to be a TV star and I still couldn’t get it on film.

Having completely spoiled the soup on that bench, I decided to carry out the evening plan as agreed to. I had trouble stepping over my lip as I pouted my way up the ridge. My mind was distracted by the fact that a bull had come that close and not only did I not kill him, we didn’t even get any footage of him creeping through the mess of cedars.
A good hike, for sure, even if all I saw four elk; all cows. The area we had moved to was not part of my cow tag unit, making them off limits. Oh well. Still four more days to go. Matt and I did see plenty more deer, including a young 4X4 that Mark probably would have been interested in, had he not see such a lunker that morning. I returned to the truck and learned Mark saw many does, but no bucks that would get his finger on the trigger.

We headed back to the motel, talking of what we could do that might give him a chance to get back on that buck and maybe put me on some elk. Can’t say we had any bright ideas, but we decided to try get to the ridges above that basin at daylight and glass for the big old buck the next morning. Sounded good to me.

We were up well before light, loaded, and on the road to this new area, albeit a long drive from where I had planned to hunt. Yet, with the image of that big buck in my mind, it was pretty easy to get loaded and head the Titan up that rock pile in the darkness.

We got to the ridges above at the perfect time. Unfortunately, down below, along the road where we had seen the big dude the prior morning, were two hunters on ATVs. They shot a buck and the valley cleared of any deer. We watched the deer scramble up the ridges, vacating this basin, and in the process saw only a nice 3X3. Dang it, had someone beat us to the punch and shot the buck this morning?

Later that morning we would see those guys at their camp. We stopped to ask what they shot. It was another nice 3X3. They were very pleased. Good for them. We hunted the rest of the morning, seeing no elk and very few deer. A few more hunters were making their rounds along the ridges, causing us to think about trying some other areas in the evening. This area laid out better for morning hunts, so we figured it best to find an area conducive to evening hunting.

A search for a better evening location took us to a spot here last year we had seen some deer and elk on the same hillsides. Logic said that would give us both a chance to fill our tags, however slim that chance might be. By 2:30, Matt and I were hiking north, up some steep ridges where we could glass an old burn. Mark headed south where a finger of public land formed a peninsula surrounded by private. Again, the plan was to meet at the truck after dark.

Matt and I found our way up the ridge. I was amazed at how many elk tracks were hidden under this canopy of Junipers. Had to be plenty of elk to make that many tracks. Not much for deer tracks.

By 4:00 pm, we had reached our perch and settled in to glass the hills. Just before 5:00, I was watching a decent four point buck down below, when I saw a bleached yellow animal walking among the cedars. Eventually he emerged in a small opening. I ranged this raghorn at 740 yards. Dang it, that likely put him on the wrong side of the fence, on some private to the west.

I told Matt to get the tripod up and film the bull. I tried to sort out where the fence went when it disappeared into the juniper hillside to our south and west. I looked at the GPS and the map. The GPS said it was 480 yards to the property boundary. Though I could not see the fence where it went through that mess, if my GPS and rangefinder were correct, the elk were a couple hundred yards on to private.

As we watched, a total of six branch antlered bulls and a mix of cows and calves crossed that opening, moving downhill, further into private. Had they bedded on public and traveled down to private? Hard to tell from my location. Within twenty minutes, the elk had completely disappeared in the brush down on the private.

I told Matt to pack up. We would use the remaining light to bushwhack and find the property line, hoping I could find if they had bedded on public or private. We headed across the ridge, following where it dropped steeply, on a path that would take us to the area I best estimated the elk had been using.

Before getting too far, we hit the fence line, a very well-marked fence line. I followed the fence west gaining some distance to the location the elk seemed to have come from. Then hitting a corner where the fence went north, now taking us further away. I concluded the elk had bedded on private, but only by a couple hundred yards. It was soon dark and we were following our path off the mesa and down this thick mess of cedars.

It was well past dark when we got to the road. We walked back to where Mark and Brad would be parked and likely waiting for us. As we rounded the last corner, Mark was sitting on the tailgate, head lamp on, and smiling big. Getting closer, I could see legs and antlers tucked underneath the topper.

Mark was smiling and talking pretty fast. He was very excited, and I was excited for him. In the truck was a nice mature 25” buck that was one most hunters would be happy with, especially their first mule deer. I don’t know the details, so he will have to chime in with what unfolded. Brad confirmed it was a great stalk, a great shot, and excellent footage. Exactly what Mark had hoped for and erased all his worries that he should have shot the bigger buck to satisfy the TV show demands.

Mark and his buck. A very happy hunter and a very happy film crew.

 

[Big Fin]

With a deer episode in the bag, it was time for me to ratchet up the elk hunting. My goal was to get back in and find the group that contained the six bulls and be there as they fed up to their beds, wherever that bed might be. It would require an hour and half head start on the sunrise, even following the GPS track from the night before.

I woke and was not feeling very good. Actually, was feeling really bad. But, the thought of catching up with those bulls gave me incentive to take a double dose of meds and climb in the truck k. Brad drove us to the trailhead, and then headed back to the motel. He and Mark would spend the day taking care of Mark’s deer while we hunted elk.

The hike up to the glassing location seemed to take forever. My head was pounding. My face was swollen and my joints were aching. We got there just in time. The sun was just rising. A few hunters were on ridges across the basin from us. They must have had access to come in from the private. Another hunter was walking down through the private-land Junipers where the elk had fed at dark just twelve hours ago. None of that was helping the cause.

Not sure where the elk went to. They could have disappeared into the thick canopy of cedars. They may have been spooked when the guys came in from the private land down below. Or, they may have fed to their beds early and were safely tucked in by the time shooting light arrived. Whatever the reason, I didn’t see a bull and I told Matt I was headed back to get some rest and see if I could salvage the evening hunt.

I called Brad and Mark and told them to meet us at the trailhead. They said it would be about two hours, which was fine, given it would take that long for us to hunt our way off this ridge. What had been a morning of hope was replaced with the notion that the hunt was half over and I had yet to get a shot at any of the seven bulls I had seen. Hardly even any footage, let alone a shot.

Matt and I snuck down the ridges, glassing as we went. Bumped a few deer and crossed another burn that was home to many cows of the bovine type. Having a cow tag in my pocket, I was expecting to at least have a chance on a cow by now. My mind had pretty much checked out as I climbed over the dead trees and snuck around/under the clutching Juniper limbs.

About half way down to the trail head, I rounded a couple rocks, and as I always do, glanced out an opening provided in the canopy of limbs. Something very yellowish was standing across the draw. It moved. I pulled up the binos. A small six pointer. Before I could point it out to Matt, he disappeared.

I got ready, in case he came into a small shooting lane. I ranged it at 420 yards. Not taking that shot with only a dead tree to lean against.

Matt continued the task of setting up the sticks and mounting his camera. Further below, I see another body sneaking through the trees. His head was cleared in a small opening - another six pointer. The range was 374 yards. I loaded a round, in the event another bull was further down.

As quick as it started, the two tan rumps walked through a very small opening, maybe three feet wide, and down into another mess of trees. I stood and watched for a long time, glassing every opening, however small, hoping to get a bead on where they were headed. Short version, they were never seen again.

Now up to nine bulls and the amount of footage was miniscule. I felt lucky to be glancing through that small opening when the bulls happened to step out. Yet, equally unlucky to have them in these tight quarters where we could see very little and at distances that are not my specialty.

By the time we got to the truck, I was feeling completely crappy. I told the guys I would head to the motel and take a nap, trying to recoup for the evening hunt. I don’t remember falling asleep, but remember Mark waking me up to ask if I was going to hunt the afternoon. He looked at me and said,

The crew was waiting outside and plotting a strategy to rescue the elk episode we were trying to get. I walked out and told them I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to hunt, rather trying to rest in hopes I could get out the next morning. They decided to head to the hills with Mark and finish his interview for the mule deer episode.

A few hours they returned. I felt a little better. We went to dinner, and then returned to the motel where I took another dose of meds and dove into the covers without any idea of what the plan would be for the morning.

 

[Big Fin]

The alarm sounded and I felt immensely better. I told the guys we were going higher, up into the snow, however crunchy it would be with a week of warm temps to melt and freeze it. Mark had bought an elk tag in the event he saw one while deer hunting, so he joined in this morning.

I knew of an area that was off limits to motorized travel. Not a big area, but once in the midst, you would be at least a mile from a road in all directions. I was not sure what might be there, but with the pressure in the oaks and junipers, it seemed the aspen belt would be a good place to try locating a bull that might have been pressured further up the mountain.

At a fork in the trail, Mark and Matt went straight while Brad and I headed higher. There were some elk tracks, but hard to tell the freshness of such with the daily melting and freezing. Good news is that they were large tracks and had a long stride, all in groups of two or three elk, making me rather confident that they were made by bulls, not cows.

I tried to be quiet, but that was impossible. I finally told Brad that we had to bust our way up to a bench, knowing it would be noisy, then wait and see if the hunting pressure below might push some elk our way. And that is what we did.

We found a small bench where I could see a couple hundred yards in most directions. The thick stands of mature aspens did not make for much in the way of shooting lanes. I kept thinking about how three years ago my brother had a chance on a nice bull, only to have an aspen jump into his shooting lane. Odds that happening again were pretty high in this location.

We were set up about ten minutes when Brad saw a coyote coming down a trail that would take him right past us. He was obviously on the hunt. I lip squeaked on the back of my hand and the dog stopped at 120 yards, giving me a broadside shot. I told Brad that a reddish phase hide like that one was hardly worth anything. But, we played the scenario the best we could.

Tired of us and probably catching out scent, the coyote whirled and headed further up into the aspens, at a very brisk clip. I glassed as the dog trotted away.

 

[Big Fin]

Brad had the camera on me. He instructed me to turn to the camera and tell how tempted I was to shoot that coyote. I turned and looked down from the stump I was standing on. As I started to give my testimony, I noticed something moving in the aspens down below, right over Brad’s left shoulder.

“Holy $h4+, there’s an elk.” Brad was sure I was jerking his chain until I put the recently removed round back in the chamber and snuck down from our current position, using three huge aspens to hide me from the elk down below. Brad was right on my tail.

We had moved down about thirty yards. The bull was now facing from my left to my right, slightly quartering toward. I was above him at about a 25 degree angle in elevation. The bull’s head was behind some aspens. I could see antler tips as he turned his head back and forth, gauging the wind and probably wondering if he had just heard human voices.

Brad was slightly to my left. With the camera zoomed in, Brad said he could see a fork in the closest antler. I moved straight behind him. In my binos, I could see three points on the near side beam. I couldn’t tell if it would meet the five inch browtine requirement. No matter how hard I tried, I could not see the far side antler.

I had no shooting rest from Brad’s position. I had to move back to the right and lean on the big aspen. I ranged the distance. I was getting readings out to 280 yards, which was not surprising with the narrow shooting lane and the gaps I was trying to read between. Twice in a row I got 235, giving me confidence in that ranged distance. I set the CDS dials and went back to inspecting antlers.

The bull had been looking up at us the entire time. Finally, he turned and looked back over his left shoulder, giving me a view of his far side beam as it laid over his shoulder. I could count four tines, for sure. I told Brad I was going to shoot.

“I’m good.” Brad is always “good” before the shooter is “good.”

I leaned against the aspen, spreading my legs wider to sturdy my base. With the scope dialed to 10X, the bull was obvious, but the shot angle was narrow from this position. I was either going to kill the bull or hit a tree, unless I shot high or low.

I had a quartering shot from above. An aspen blocked most the front shoulder and another aspen completed the frame by cover all of his stomach and rump. The gap was about eighteen inches wide. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. I was not steady enough to shoot.

Brad reiterated that he was ready. I took another deep breath. This time, the cross hairs didn’t move until the instinctive comfort caused the trigger to break. The recoil took me off the bull. He had not moved an inch. In some rather adult language I told Brad I must have hit one of the trees, though I really didn’t think so.

As I kept the crosshairs on the bull, another bull climbed out of some brush and exited off the bench behind this bull. I put the scope on him and could tell he was not the same bull, rather a nice six point. I came back to the bull I had first shot at and saw another raghorn looking at me even closer than this bull.

I told Brad I was sure it was a good shot, but I must have missed. Brad told me from his angle, he could see the bull had lowered his head. I moved over to Brad’s position and the bull was still in the same tracks, but his head was lowered, not the normal alert position one would expect from a bull that just heard a rifle shot.

I told Brad I was going to shoot again. I moved back to my try and started to range the distance again; wanting to make sure I was not set wrong on my CDS. I got 239 this time.

Before I could bring the rifle back to my shoulder Brad shouted that the bull had collapsed. WTH? I looked. Sure enough, he was laying there in the snow, right where he had been standing. He was trying to lift his head. The other raghorn headed toward the safe trail plowed by the six pointer, having seen enough.

I kept the crosshairs on the bull for another minute. No movement. Brad turned the camera to me. I gave my best version of what had just happened, but I admit to still being almost confused. I told what I thought happened, though I suspect my confusion did not provide for a lot of confidence in my story.

Brad and I captured more of the moment. It had only taken a few minutes and this hunt went from bleak, to complete. I told Brad I was going to head down and make sure the bull was dead. I got there and put the barrel on his eyeball. No blink. Yup, he was dead.

I have never seen a bull behave that way after a hit, so I wanted to perform an autopsy. We took some pics and called Mark and Matt. A plan was made that I would quarter the bull while Brad hauled our non-essential gear back to the truck, where Mark and Matt would follow him back up the mountain to help with the loads.

Here is what happened. The bullet entered from above, just behind the fifth rib. Perfect windage hold. It went in right where the ribs curve downward, breaking that rib and mangling the near lung with a pop-can diameter hole, then plowing a path through the chest, down and back, into the liver, with the .308 Win 180 grain Trophy Bonded Tip coming to rest on the hide, low in the brisket on the far side. From that angle, only one lung was taken out and the liver was mashed.

Seeing how long a bull could stand on its feet with only one lung destroyed, it made me wonder about archery hits that only get one lung. The bullet performed as expected, creating a lot of havoc along the way. Still impressed by how long that bull stood on his feet. In retrospect, I should have shot again, but with other bulls trotting around, tight shooting lanes, and my confidence in the shot, I was afraid I might end up with two dead bulls had I shot again.

So, my quest for a Colorado OTC public land bull was fulfilled. Not a big bull, just a raghorn. Yet, for a public land hunt, seeing twelve bulls in four mornings and two evenings of hunting was all I could reasonably expect. If not for the challenges of getting all this on camera, earlier hunts would have solved the Colorado OTC elk riddle prior to this.

In the past, we had a relationship to promote OTC elk hunting in Colorado. That ended last year. Even without that agreement, I wanted to show people that Colorado is a great place to hunt elk on public land, albeit the expectation of big bulls being much less than other states.

And with that, we have two episodes from Colorado. A mule deer hunt on an easy-to-draw unit and OTC elk hunt. These easy to draw and easy to complete hunts are a big part of what we want to teach in this show. Anyone could do this hunt and do it for a price within reach of most. And, you would probably be able to shoot one of the nicer bulls we saw, rather than burden yourself with the hassles of filming.

Now, on to Wyoming where Spitz and I have a week to try tag two bulls.

Not a record breaker, by any stretch. Yet, happy to get this hunt on film and show people the public land elk hunting opportunities that are out there.

Brad, the camera man and pack mule.


A 5X3 will work for me.

 

[JCS]

You have finally broke the Colorado jinx for elk.

 

[recon6036]

Sounds like a great hunt. Congrats Big Fin and fellow Yooper, Mark!!!!!!!

 

[WyOpitz]

Awesome, can't wait to see it unfold on TV!!

 

[schmalts]

Congrats to both of you guys on a great hunt!

 

[BigRack]

They should lengthen your show to 1 hour.

 

[jones39]

Sounds like it will make great episode!! Too bad we have to wait until next year before we see it. Congrats!!

 

[L. I. Yankee]

congrats to both.....

 

[pseshooter300]

Congrats to both

 

[ashersdad]

Nice job Randy! Can't wait to see both episodes.

 

[Big Foot]

Well Done. Sounds like good times in Colorado.

 

[MtnWest]

Way to get it done fellas. Congrats to you both, look forward to seeing the episode.

 

[1_pointer]

Well done! Sounds like a great trip, congrats!

 

[kansasdad]

Glad I'm not trying to get it done AND make a compelling tv story. Glad you fellas made it happen again.

 

[sbhooper]

I have never done the OTC thing, but a buddy of mine went on his first elk hunt a years ago in an OTC unit and killed a 330 bull. It was the biggest bull that the guy he went with (from the area) had ever seen in there. You just never know what will happen, even in an OTC hunt.

I can't wait to see the show.

 

[DSull]

Awesome!