This evening was so close. Three nice bulls spotted. One was below us, but he was busted off beyond the 4th point. We could hear some bugling, even in this strong wind, so we moved in to see what was making the noise. It was a gamble to leave a bull that was by himself, and looked to be in a very vulnerable location. but it seemed like a chance worth taking.
We darted west toward the bugling, knowing it would again be close to the private. When we got there, two good 6 pointers were in the meadow bugling at each other, trying to sort out who owned the three cows. The cows could have cared less, as they fed without regard to the noise.
I looked at the GPS and could tell the one bull was at least 150 yards onto the private, but he was slowing coming out way. The other bull was right on the line, plus or minus a few yards.
We watched to see what they would do. The bigger bull dropped down into the draw, putting him squarely onto the public. We raced down his direction, trying not to be seen by the other bull and cows. If he kept coming down, he would be about 200 yards below and well into the public ground. It would also be a straight upwind shot, which in this very strong wind, would have been a much better deal.
Using some trees and rocks for concealment, we dropped down to cut him off, estimating his direction. When we reached the best location for an ambush, the bull emerged from the draw. Not right below like we had hoped, but for some reason, he took a hard right, putting him back close to the boundary.
This boundary is not marked with fences and I have found corner pins out here that make it appear that my GPS is off on the north/south grid by 150' at times. That kind of variation is too much, even though I think my first good shot at him was about 100 yards into the public. As he walked away and Troy and I struggled for good lanes that worked for both of us, he was just too close for me to take the chance.
Many wonder how we draw the number of tags we do. It is really pretty simple. We are accustomed to hunting the public/private interface that most hunters stay away from. It is that public/private situation that gives us ample tags and some great animals to hunt. But, it requires a lot of patience, knowing you have to error on the side of caution and pass opportunities that would be slam dunks if you were on big chunks of public.
Today, we had to pass on those bulls, as they were either on private, or too close to private - live by the sword, die by the sword. Today, we died by the sword, but tomorrow is a new day, and in spite of a terrible weather forecast, I am feeling good about our chances. We have been stomping these hills for four days, and I feel we are getting a lay of the land, even though the elk are completely unpredictable in their patterns.
After that bull moved off, Bart and I tried everything we knew to get the other bull to drag his cows down the hill and onto the public. They would have no part of it. As filming light left us, we watched as the bull stood among the three cows and bugled his brains out. Cool to watch, but sure wish he was on our side of the boundary.
Tired and weary. We have been hitting it very hard, as we knew we only had three hunting days for this episode. Tomorrow is the last full day. We might be able to sneak in a morning hunt on Tuesday before flying back out.
Looks like we will be competing with both the elk and the weather tomorrow. It is raining on the tent, as I type this. Rain and cameras do not get along very well. Rain, strong winds, and cameras are a recipe for disaster, or at best, frustration. Glad I don't have Troy's job tomorrow. Hunting will be miserable enough. Filming the hunt will be more than I would care to deal with. But if anyone can pull it off, Troy would be that guy.
A few random pics.
Bart smiling yesterday afternoon, about fifteen miles ago. He will still be smiling fifteen miles from now.
Some sunrises are hard to do justice with a camera. This was one of them. Troy got the goods with his professional set up and given the excitement in his voice, he must have liked what he shot.
A sunrise, looking south at the prairie grounds.
Mid-day snack at Camp OYOA. No one is getting fat around here.
