Mthuntinfool
Member
Well this is a few weeks late, but I wanted to share my awesome trip with all you hunt talkers. I was able to take a week off work and spend it hunting my old stomping grounds in the SW part of the state with my Dad, brother, and a good friend Joe. the first day started off slow looking for whitetails, hoping to find one for dad to take a crack at. the area used to hold lots of whiteys, and a good number of bucks, but it must have gotten hit hard by the locals. We only saw 5 or 6 deer total.
After that rather disappointing morning, we decided to check out the area where my brother and Joe had killed a couple nice 6 point bulls last year. lots of glassing turned up a fair number of mulies, but no elk. By late afternoon we had found a decent 4 point buck, and after trying to get our Dad to take it, I decided to take him, as I hadn't taken a nice mulie for 4 or 5 years. one shot at 270 yards with my .257 Roberts and I had my buck.
The next morning we headed out to try and find some elk or a buck for dad. The area we hunt is a checkerboard of private and public, so it makes it a challenge to locate animals where we can hunt at times. My brother spotted a nice whitetail buck, so dad and I slipped down to see if we could call him onto the public ground, about 400 yards. Dad has bad knees and heart problems, so I got him to a clump of willows and began rattling and calling. 5 minutes later this small 3 point came at a dead run and stopped at 20 yards. it was to perfect, and Dad decided to take him. one shot with the old ruger .243, and Dad had the first deer he had harvested in 27 years! it was great to be able to share it with him.
As we got back to the truck and got Dad's buck loaded, Joe spotted a heard of elk bedded on a high ridge over five miles away! We decided it was worth a closer look, so we got as close as we could with the truck, and lo and behold, they were bedded on BLM. Dad can't walk that far, so he told us to go give it a try, and he would watch them from the truck.
Long story short, three hours and 2.5 miles later, we were sneaking over the ridge they were bedded on. The snow was noisy, and suddenly a bull stands up only 30 yards away! I had never killed a bull, and as I whispered to my brother and Joe that we had been spotted, my brother told me to shoot it. Now this wasn't a big bull, just a small 5 point with part of his left horn broke off, but I was excited to have one in my sights! I could only see his head and neck above the ridge, and in my excitement, proceeded to shoot the ridge between us!
The next 30 seconds were a roller coaster of emotions from the low of missing and thinking I blew our opportunity, to the adrenaline of running over the ridge, to excitement of seeing one bull standing below me and my brother telling me to shoot.... The first shot was a double lung, and as he began to run I shot again, and my brother shot twice as well. he disappeared at the crest of a nasty brushy hell-hole of a canyon, and for a moment I was unsure if he was down.
On shaky legs I approached the rim of the canyon, as my brother turned to me with a big grin as he pointed to my bull laying below us. What an awesome experience, and to be able to share it with my brother, good friend, and for my dad to be able to watch the whole thing unfold from the pickup made it that much better! after some celebrating, picture taking, and a few prayers of thanks, we broke him down for the pack out. Two hours and two miles later, we finally arrived at the truck, exhausted but happy.
Sorry that was a little long winded, hope you enjoy the pictures. I want to give another huge thank you to my brother Skyler and our friend little Joe, If not for them I would have been hard pressed to get my bull of the mountain. I am blessed to be able to spend time doing what I love in this kind of country, making memories with good friends and family.
After that rather disappointing morning, we decided to check out the area where my brother and Joe had killed a couple nice 6 point bulls last year. lots of glassing turned up a fair number of mulies, but no elk. By late afternoon we had found a decent 4 point buck, and after trying to get our Dad to take it, I decided to take him, as I hadn't taken a nice mulie for 4 or 5 years. one shot at 270 yards with my .257 Roberts and I had my buck.
The next morning we headed out to try and find some elk or a buck for dad. The area we hunt is a checkerboard of private and public, so it makes it a challenge to locate animals where we can hunt at times. My brother spotted a nice whitetail buck, so dad and I slipped down to see if we could call him onto the public ground, about 400 yards. Dad has bad knees and heart problems, so I got him to a clump of willows and began rattling and calling. 5 minutes later this small 3 point came at a dead run and stopped at 20 yards. it was to perfect, and Dad decided to take him. one shot with the old ruger .243, and Dad had the first deer he had harvested in 27 years! it was great to be able to share it with him.
As we got back to the truck and got Dad's buck loaded, Joe spotted a heard of elk bedded on a high ridge over five miles away! We decided it was worth a closer look, so we got as close as we could with the truck, and lo and behold, they were bedded on BLM. Dad can't walk that far, so he told us to go give it a try, and he would watch them from the truck.
Long story short, three hours and 2.5 miles later, we were sneaking over the ridge they were bedded on. The snow was noisy, and suddenly a bull stands up only 30 yards away! I had never killed a bull, and as I whispered to my brother and Joe that we had been spotted, my brother told me to shoot it. Now this wasn't a big bull, just a small 5 point with part of his left horn broke off, but I was excited to have one in my sights! I could only see his head and neck above the ridge, and in my excitement, proceeded to shoot the ridge between us!
The next 30 seconds were a roller coaster of emotions from the low of missing and thinking I blew our opportunity, to the adrenaline of running over the ridge, to excitement of seeing one bull standing below me and my brother telling me to shoot.... The first shot was a double lung, and as he began to run I shot again, and my brother shot twice as well. he disappeared at the crest of a nasty brushy hell-hole of a canyon, and for a moment I was unsure if he was down.
On shaky legs I approached the rim of the canyon, as my brother turned to me with a big grin as he pointed to my bull laying below us. What an awesome experience, and to be able to share it with my brother, good friend, and for my dad to be able to watch the whole thing unfold from the pickup made it that much better! after some celebrating, picture taking, and a few prayers of thanks, we broke him down for the pack out. Two hours and two miles later, we finally arrived at the truck, exhausted but happy.
Sorry that was a little long winded, hope you enjoy the pictures. I want to give another huge thank you to my brother Skyler and our friend little Joe, If not for them I would have been hard pressed to get my bull of the mountain. I am blessed to be able to spend time doing what I love in this kind of country, making memories with good friends and family.
