Khunter
Well-known member
game on! Lovin’ it.
Low Density, High Hopes
- Thread starter trb
- Start date
Johnny Bravo
Well-known member
- Joined
- Feb 15, 2022
- Messages
- 1,349
I going to make a turkey sammy from leftovers and when I get back there better be the next update….lol. Can’t wait for the grip and grin.
Day 4 - The Shot
About 5 minutes after sunset, I saw antler tips moving as he fed just out of view above the lip. I had ranged everything, and every possibility was between 75 and 95 yds. I continually peeked through the sights to line up the potential shooting lanes. He crept closer to the edge every couple minutes. I could see him licking the leaves off the tip of the bitter brush. One big step forward and suddenly he was broadside, but with a large rabbitbrush covering his entire midsection.
The clock was ticking, and as many of you know, those last 10 minutes of legal shooting light are pretty damn dark. This was either going to happen, or I was going to need to back out and try again tomorrow.
About 15 minutes after sunset, and therefore 15 minutes before last shooting light, and less than 5 before no longer being able to see through my sights, he stepped past the rabbit brush. I was not going to take a frontal shot, but I pulled the hammer back. In doing so, he either caught my hand or head moving, or he heard something, and took one more step past the rabbit brush, quartering to me at a 45 degree angle, his left side exposed and craning his neck in my direction. I lined up the best I could in the uncomfortably dark sights, and fired. Through the plume of smoke, I saw his antler turn as he wheeled away and dipped back into the PJs.
I ripped my ear pro out to listen for clues, but heard only a couple hoof beats then nothing. I waited 15 minutes, and moved up. Where he stood, I found first blood. I did not like the color.
About 5 minutes after sunset, I saw antler tips moving as he fed just out of view above the lip. I had ranged everything, and every possibility was between 75 and 95 yds. I continually peeked through the sights to line up the potential shooting lanes. He crept closer to the edge every couple minutes. I could see him licking the leaves off the tip of the bitter brush. One big step forward and suddenly he was broadside, but with a large rabbitbrush covering his entire midsection.
The clock was ticking, and as many of you know, those last 10 minutes of legal shooting light are pretty damn dark. This was either going to happen, or I was going to need to back out and try again tomorrow.
About 15 minutes after sunset, and therefore 15 minutes before last shooting light, and less than 5 before no longer being able to see through my sights, he stepped past the rabbit brush. I was not going to take a frontal shot, but I pulled the hammer back. In doing so, he either caught my hand or head moving, or he heard something, and took one more step past the rabbit brush, quartering to me at a 45 degree angle, his left side exposed and craning his neck in my direction. I lined up the best I could in the uncomfortably dark sights, and fired. Through the plume of smoke, I saw his antler turn as he wheeled away and dipped back into the PJs.
I ripped my ear pro out to listen for clues, but heard only a couple hoof beats then nothing. I waited 15 minutes, and moved up. Where he stood, I found first blood. I did not like the color.
Day 4 - Night
In addition to blood, luckily the soft ground made for easy tracking. Within 10 feet of first blood, I had a trail. There were arced spurts of blood with every step, punctuated by a larger splotch or two. I’ve certainly seen more blood on a trail, but it was a good sign. The downside was the dark color. But it was too much blood for a muscle.
Then, sub 100 yards away, barking. I hoped it was his 2 buddies, but then the last bark had some wheeze to it. I had never heard of a hit elk barking. Back to not feeling great.
I sat and waited about 30 minutes, and texted a couple friends to gut check my interpretation of the scene. Eventually I decided to push on slowly and carefully. I came to two larger piles of congealed blood. It was cold, but these were so congealed they must have come out of him already clumped, there was no splatter. My later interpretation of this is that it was coughed up.
After this, the trail thinned considerably. He was also turning back towards the lip of the mesa, and somewhat towards some creek bottom private. I was down to a couple drops every 5-10 feet. I was no more than 75 yards from the initial hit, shining my headlamp around looking carefully drops on the orange clay, when I heard a sound over the edge that sounded like someone blowing their nose, then a few footsteps.
F*ck. I had bumped him. With petering blood, and towards private.
I have never left an animal overnight before, but I backed out, and got in my truck, and drove back to camp. A truly awful feeling.
That night, my local public land management agency contact swung by my camp to talk through the situation over a beer. It was appreciated, and luckily he knew the landowner so that the only issue now would be finding him, not access. Regardless, it was a restless night.
In addition to blood, luckily the soft ground made for easy tracking. Within 10 feet of first blood, I had a trail. There were arced spurts of blood with every step, punctuated by a larger splotch or two. I’ve certainly seen more blood on a trail, but it was a good sign. The downside was the dark color. But it was too much blood for a muscle.
Then, sub 100 yards away, barking. I hoped it was his 2 buddies, but then the last bark had some wheeze to it. I had never heard of a hit elk barking. Back to not feeling great.
I sat and waited about 30 minutes, and texted a couple friends to gut check my interpretation of the scene. Eventually I decided to push on slowly and carefully. I came to two larger piles of congealed blood. It was cold, but these were so congealed they must have come out of him already clumped, there was no splatter. My later interpretation of this is that it was coughed up.
After this, the trail thinned considerably. He was also turning back towards the lip of the mesa, and somewhat towards some creek bottom private. I was down to a couple drops every 5-10 feet. I was no more than 75 yards from the initial hit, shining my headlamp around looking carefully drops on the orange clay, when I heard a sound over the edge that sounded like someone blowing their nose, then a few footsteps.
F*ck. I had bumped him. With petering blood, and towards private.
I have never left an animal overnight before, but I backed out, and got in my truck, and drove back to camp. A truly awful feeling.
That night, my local public land management agency contact swung by my camp to talk through the situation over a beer. It was appreciated, and luckily he knew the landowner so that the only issue now would be finding him, not access. Regardless, it was a restless night.
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Day 5 - The Morning
I was setup on the opposing slope at first light to glass before getting on the trail. I felt there were enough conflicting pieces of evidence from the night before that I truly had no idea what the outcome of this would be. Either extreme self loathing, or elation. No in between.
With nothing making itself obvious to me on the slope after about 45 minutes of legal light, I crossed the drainage to get back on the trail with the benefit of sunlight. I quickly retraced my steps and came to where I had bumped him. I slowed way down, was at times on my hands and knees. Luckily, the trail did not peter out, but continued, as much on plants as the ground.
It took me probably 30 minutes to go 50 feet off the edge and onto the N facing slope where he had apparently fled. I was so focused looking down, that when I finally looked up, I was almost caught off guard by the scene in front of me, followed by an indescribable wave of relief.
I was setup on the opposing slope at first light to glass before getting on the trail. I felt there were enough conflicting pieces of evidence from the night before that I truly had no idea what the outcome of this would be. Either extreme self loathing, or elation. No in between.
With nothing making itself obvious to me on the slope after about 45 minutes of legal light, I crossed the drainage to get back on the trail with the benefit of sunlight. I quickly retraced my steps and came to where I had bumped him. I slowed way down, was at times on my hands and knees. Luckily, the trail did not peter out, but continued, as much on plants as the ground.
It took me probably 30 minutes to go 50 feet off the edge and onto the N facing slope where he had apparently fled. I was so focused looking down, that when I finally looked up, I was almost caught off guard by the scene in front of me, followed by an indescribable wave of relief.
In all, he travelled less than 300 yards. It was well below freezing the night before, but it was a race against time on the meat, so after a few quick pics I got to work. Let me just say that working on a large animal in rigor by yourself is an absolute bitch.
I did lose the tendies, but everything else was completely fine. I usually do them and heart last, so I didn't get to them until about 1 pm or so. In retrospect given the situation, maybe I could’ve pulled back straps off first and gotten the tenderloins out ASAP, but I was worried about the area around the ball joints, which turned out to be totally fine.
Rolling over showed that the entry was fine left to right, but probably a few inches high based on the steep uphill angle of the shot. His lungs were full of blood but I think it just took them a while to fill up from the high shot. I remeasured the shot at 76 yards, but the issue was light through the sights/my error.
Back at camp
I did lose the tendies, but everything else was completely fine. I usually do them and heart last, so I didn't get to them until about 1 pm or so. In retrospect given the situation, maybe I could’ve pulled back straps off first and gotten the tenderloins out ASAP, but I was worried about the area around the ball joints, which turned out to be totally fine.
Rolling over showed that the entry was fine left to right, but probably a few inches high based on the steep uphill angle of the shot. His lungs were full of blood but I think it just took them a while to fill up from the high shot. I remeasured the shot at 76 yards, but the issue was light through the sights/my error.
Back at camp
Nothing but appreciation after this hunt for the kind folks in the area, both locals and public wildlife and land managers. An incredible experience on public lands that I will not soon forget.
In closing, I’d just like to say, humbly, f*ck Mike Lee.
The End
In closing, I’d just like to say, humbly, f*ck Mike Lee.
The End
