doitall
New member
I would like to share my first Bull Elk Hunt in the Utah mountains, after applying for 19 years. Finally getting that notice of being "successful". I'm sure many of you can relate to the frustration of years of "unsuccessfully" trying to draw a prized tag. I knew this area was that special, after scouting it for three years.
After plans were made with my family things just kept on changing, so I ended up going the first three days "on my own". The family would be coming down on Friday for the week end. I would not miss the opening day.
I left Salt Lake City on Tuesday morning camp trailer and wheeler all loaded up. Weather was just too warm, but a promised storm was to come.
Found my camp spot and got all sat up but could not resist I had to scout some more. I knew where I intended to be Wednesday morning at first sun. So I did not disturb that spot.
The next morning found me in the truck, on the ridge, after 8 miles of back country roads. It was just as I knew it would be but, the wind was blowing at least 20 miles per hour, I expected to hear the sound of Bulls In Love, but could hear nothing. That was Okay there would be nine days of nothing but hunting and I was ready for it. The first day I only saw two Bulls, 2 miles away and with two large canyons to cross I knew it would be beyond me. I haven't told you yet but I'm 62 years old and have struggled with leg surgery five different times in the last 40 years. It would be very important for me to carefully pick where I would shoot my Bull. That helps you appreciate my searching for that special place for me.
I chose to let those big boys go on, I'm sure they looked to be about 350 or 360 points. I decided to concentrate on my original plans.
The next morning was a calm day and I checked out another canyon on my way up the ridge and saw nothing and heard nothing. At 11:00 I was back at my first chosen spot and as soon as I turned off the motor on the wheeler I heard Elk. Not one, not two but lots of Elk. I carefully worked into the trees on the uphill side and watching the wind and moving very slowly, I sat to let things develop.
Not long after I saw movement across the meadow. It seemed that all the Bulls were on the constant move. The last time I ranged him it was 157 yards, I blew on the cow call and he never reacted at all, just kept on walking. Sense he would not stop and I was with no rest, I chose to hold off, knowing Elk were all around me. I saw two others cross that meadow in the next three hours, all were very shoot able for me, but too far out. I never saw a small Bull and only saw three cows.
I made one move about 40 yards to my right to come closer to where they were moving through. Wind was beginning to shift and I made some adjustments. I was prepared to wait it out, I was having a dream come true afternoon. For 6 hours I heard Elk bugling, never for more that 30 minutes was there silence.
Then I heard three Bulls coming down the ridge just where I wanted. They were bugling as they come down through the trees. It took about 30 minutes before I saw the first one. He was beautiful: I even said that to myself. I though, boy where did I put that camera, but I would not take the risk to move. I had previously ranged that hole through the trees and knew it to be 47 yards. His coat was beautiful, the neck and feet were black, its antler points I never even counted, I did not need to, they were dark, covered in some old mud and the points were white tipped. When he hit that hole in the oak there was no second thoughts just a big pang and a cloud of smoke. Yes, this was a muzzle loaders only hunt. The next 25 minutes were nothing I had ever seen before, and boy I have watched the outdoor channel for years and years, He reversed direction and moved to my left on a big run for about 30 yards and stopped, facing straight away from me. As I froze for 15 minutes and watch him I knew he had been fatally wounded as the point of impact was perfect. I watched him cough and bleed from the noise, he staggered and shook his head and had trouble standing, I expected him to fall over, and he did not What strength he had, how I admired his strength. I soon realized I should load back up. I quickly loaded 130 grains of powder and one 295 grain Powerbelt bullet. As soon as I put on the 209 primer I was ready for another shot. But I waited again another 10 minutes. I watched him stand, only looking straight away from me giving me no good follow up shot. I was beginning to shake, soon I realized it was snowing and getting dark. I only had on a tea shirt. He then jump to my left and as he passed me at 20 yards I hit him again on the opposite side once again threw his ribs but from the other side. He took three more steps before falling.
I never saw the other two that were with him and sometimes I wonder what they were. It makes no difference, he always will be a Trophy to me. What a truly exciting day.
I cut on him till dark, hung up the hinds in the small oak trees and went back to camp. The next morning I loaded up and drove back to Salt Lake to get my two big strong sons. The rest of the story is all about work, wow they are big. I have shot two cows before, but they had no comparison, What a job. He scored at 346.
Whether I ever get a limited entry Bull Tag again it makes no difference to me. This will always be my most memorable hunt.
As you can see from the pictures I was alone and could not make the traditional poses; head straight up and hunter standing ten feet behind him so he looks like a real monster. Then there's the great one; the low rising looking up as the antlers stand three feet over my head appearing eight feet tall. Oh just kidding everyone. They truly are great animals and can only be admired by one who has taken that challenge to get one, by fair chase, on public land and without paying half a years wages. May the good Lord bless you all with that GREAT DAY.
some more pictures latter.
After plans were made with my family things just kept on changing, so I ended up going the first three days "on my own". The family would be coming down on Friday for the week end. I would not miss the opening day.
I left Salt Lake City on Tuesday morning camp trailer and wheeler all loaded up. Weather was just too warm, but a promised storm was to come.
Found my camp spot and got all sat up but could not resist I had to scout some more. I knew where I intended to be Wednesday morning at first sun. So I did not disturb that spot.
The next morning found me in the truck, on the ridge, after 8 miles of back country roads. It was just as I knew it would be but, the wind was blowing at least 20 miles per hour, I expected to hear the sound of Bulls In Love, but could hear nothing. That was Okay there would be nine days of nothing but hunting and I was ready for it. The first day I only saw two Bulls, 2 miles away and with two large canyons to cross I knew it would be beyond me. I haven't told you yet but I'm 62 years old and have struggled with leg surgery five different times in the last 40 years. It would be very important for me to carefully pick where I would shoot my Bull. That helps you appreciate my searching for that special place for me.
I chose to let those big boys go on, I'm sure they looked to be about 350 or 360 points. I decided to concentrate on my original plans.
The next morning was a calm day and I checked out another canyon on my way up the ridge and saw nothing and heard nothing. At 11:00 I was back at my first chosen spot and as soon as I turned off the motor on the wheeler I heard Elk. Not one, not two but lots of Elk. I carefully worked into the trees on the uphill side and watching the wind and moving very slowly, I sat to let things develop.
Not long after I saw movement across the meadow. It seemed that all the Bulls were on the constant move. The last time I ranged him it was 157 yards, I blew on the cow call and he never reacted at all, just kept on walking. Sense he would not stop and I was with no rest, I chose to hold off, knowing Elk were all around me. I saw two others cross that meadow in the next three hours, all were very shoot able for me, but too far out. I never saw a small Bull and only saw three cows.
I made one move about 40 yards to my right to come closer to where they were moving through. Wind was beginning to shift and I made some adjustments. I was prepared to wait it out, I was having a dream come true afternoon. For 6 hours I heard Elk bugling, never for more that 30 minutes was there silence.
Then I heard three Bulls coming down the ridge just where I wanted. They were bugling as they come down through the trees. It took about 30 minutes before I saw the first one. He was beautiful: I even said that to myself. I though, boy where did I put that camera, but I would not take the risk to move. I had previously ranged that hole through the trees and knew it to be 47 yards. His coat was beautiful, the neck and feet were black, its antler points I never even counted, I did not need to, they were dark, covered in some old mud and the points were white tipped. When he hit that hole in the oak there was no second thoughts just a big pang and a cloud of smoke. Yes, this was a muzzle loaders only hunt. The next 25 minutes were nothing I had ever seen before, and boy I have watched the outdoor channel for years and years, He reversed direction and moved to my left on a big run for about 30 yards and stopped, facing straight away from me. As I froze for 15 minutes and watch him I knew he had been fatally wounded as the point of impact was perfect. I watched him cough and bleed from the noise, he staggered and shook his head and had trouble standing, I expected him to fall over, and he did not What strength he had, how I admired his strength. I soon realized I should load back up. I quickly loaded 130 grains of powder and one 295 grain Powerbelt bullet. As soon as I put on the 209 primer I was ready for another shot. But I waited again another 10 minutes. I watched him stand, only looking straight away from me giving me no good follow up shot. I was beginning to shake, soon I realized it was snowing and getting dark. I only had on a tea shirt. He then jump to my left and as he passed me at 20 yards I hit him again on the opposite side once again threw his ribs but from the other side. He took three more steps before falling.
I never saw the other two that were with him and sometimes I wonder what they were. It makes no difference, he always will be a Trophy to me. What a truly exciting day.
I cut on him till dark, hung up the hinds in the small oak trees and went back to camp. The next morning I loaded up and drove back to Salt Lake to get my two big strong sons. The rest of the story is all about work, wow they are big. I have shot two cows before, but they had no comparison, What a job. He scored at 346.
Whether I ever get a limited entry Bull Tag again it makes no difference to me. This will always be my most memorable hunt.
As you can see from the pictures I was alone and could not make the traditional poses; head straight up and hunter standing ten feet behind him so he looks like a real monster. Then there's the great one; the low rising looking up as the antlers stand three feet over my head appearing eight feet tall. Oh just kidding everyone. They truly are great animals and can only be admired by one who has taken that challenge to get one, by fair chase, on public land and without paying half a years wages. May the good Lord bless you all with that GREAT DAY.
some more pictures latter.
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