MT archery elk - We're baaack!
- Thread starter Big Fin
- Start date
If 1,000 words are worth a picture, then 10,000 words should DEFINITELY be worth a picture...
Can you drive over and take a picture of the rack and post it for us?
npaden
Well-known member
If the 2nd hand info is correct he still needs to shoot a bear too! I think I'm going to go ahead and go to bed.
As tired and worn as I am, the eternal optimist in me is now taking hold. I will watch these cows all afternoon, see what they do, and have myself in a position to take action when the evening comes.
I tell Troy of my find. He laughs and asks how far from from public. I tell him they are about 200 yards. He replies that the song is getting old, tucks his eyes back under the shade and continues to catch some much deserved rest. I keep watch.
Soon, one of the raspy sounding bulls works his way over to these cows and is giving them commands. This has Troy's attention. We cannot make him out, for the thick trees, but can see a big body moving among the cows, with an occasional antler glimmering in the sun. All good signs, but we have been down this road before, so I plan to keep my enthusiasm curbed until an elk is on the ground.
Watching the elk come and go and new groups appearing in different openings gives cause to discuss what we would do tonight, if an opportunity arose. I told Troy that raghorns are off limits. I would shoot a cow before a raghorn. Nothing against raghorns, but figured a cow would be better eating and more likely to offer a chance.
Troy is great at making bets. Even if you don't agree to it, it is a bet in his mind.
Today, he announces the following bet. If I shoot an elk this evening the bet from yesterday is negated. In other words, I wouldn't have to fund an all expense paid trip in here for him to hunt without cameras. I did not agree to that one, but since he announced it, in his mind, it is a bet and I lost yesterday, regardless of the fact I did not accept his bet. If I don't shoot an elk, some other obscure payment is to be made. I can't even remember now, but it was funny at the time.
We sit there until 4pm, at which time some bulls start getting serious about their vocalizations. They have "struck up the band." Fun to listen to, even if you can't see them among the trees.
Finally, around 4:30, a group of cows comes off the face and streams out of the trees. They are looking back on their trail. The bugling is pretty loud. Out steps a very nice six point. He is harassing them, but they pay attention to his advances.
Soon, over twenty cows rotate feeding and bedding a mere 100 yards off the boundary. In the meantime, another really nice six point and a spike show up to test the air. Like the other bull, they are ignored.
By 5:00 pm, the ruckus on top of the ridges is getting carried away. Someone has thrown down. We hear the smashing of antlers. Through the trees, one nice bull is trying his hand at logging, though not near as proficient as Troy. Cows are chirping and whining. Someone has ants in their pants.
Now, Troy and I have our packs loaded and ready for any opportunity that might come. All the sounds are coming our direction. More elk are showing up. We now see over forty cows on the open slant 450 yards right across from us.
A deep bugle is coming down to join them. Almost like waiting for Christmas, we sit in suspense to see if he is as big as he sounds. He continues his tirade as we hang on his every echo. When he yells, another big bull further south replies. Not sure if they are friends or enemies, but they seem to have quite a conversation going on.
Finally, he emerges. Holy crap! His body and antlers match his bugle. He is the boss of this gathering. He chases one young cow and she denies his pleas. She stops as he approaches. He starts to rise on his hinds and she runs off. The drama continues for a few minutes and she finally lays down to protect her dignity.
He is not happy. He takes a few runs at the smaller bulls. Bulls I would gladly shoot if he needed me to help him in his cause. They scatter like scared cats. One unfortunate pine will not live to see another summer as the big bulls reduces it to an oozing pitch stump.
Having made his point, he goes and finds a bed in the shade of a pine. All the elk, cows and bulls alike, give him a wide berth.
Troy films it all and we are now nothing but smiles. Even if they don't give us a chance, this kind of stunt is what all elk hunters love to watch.
I am now making plans. We are south of the elk, on a ridge straight east of them. The bottom that separates us is public and heavily timbered. A trail runs the course of this drainage north to where the elk seem headed. The dry creek bottom eventually gives way to a big meadows with trees getting more sparse as one gets further north. The best feed is right in the bottom, about 250 yards into public.
I tell Troy I intend to wait for some cloud cover that will allow us to sneak off this ridge to the game trail that travels up the bottom to the scattered timber. I want to wait until the last light, hoping it will provide a steady downhill wind that will allow us to ease uphill with less risk of detection.
Troy is all excited and ready. I tell him we will depart at 6pm. By that time we now have over 100 cows bedded or feeding in the openings across from us. Many bulls are making their way in and out of the mass of elk turbulence. Some of them rivaling the big bull who came and let us film so much of his antics.
The wind is still fickle. I tell Troy that we are going to wait longer. Even though the elk are up and feeding and now within yards of the boundary, the wind has screwed us too many times this trip and I will not let it happen again. Troy is like a racehorse in the gates and Lexington Downs. I am more like a sedated over the hill old fart hoping for one last hurrah.
Finally, at 6:20, the wind has been blowing constantly down the drainage. Exactly what we would hope for as we sneak up the creek bottom. We shoulder our packs. I take one last look at the cows leading the procession toward the public land and the rich green grass that stands there.
Off we go. All in.
I tell Troy of my find. He laughs and asks how far from from public. I tell him they are about 200 yards. He replies that the song is getting old, tucks his eyes back under the shade and continues to catch some much deserved rest. I keep watch.
Soon, one of the raspy sounding bulls works his way over to these cows and is giving them commands. This has Troy's attention. We cannot make him out, for the thick trees, but can see a big body moving among the cows, with an occasional antler glimmering in the sun. All good signs, but we have been down this road before, so I plan to keep my enthusiasm curbed until an elk is on the ground.
Watching the elk come and go and new groups appearing in different openings gives cause to discuss what we would do tonight, if an opportunity arose. I told Troy that raghorns are off limits. I would shoot a cow before a raghorn. Nothing against raghorns, but figured a cow would be better eating and more likely to offer a chance.
Troy is great at making bets. Even if you don't agree to it, it is a bet in his mind.
Today, he announces the following bet. If I shoot an elk this evening the bet from yesterday is negated. In other words, I wouldn't have to fund an all expense paid trip in here for him to hunt without cameras. I did not agree to that one, but since he announced it, in his mind, it is a bet and I lost yesterday, regardless of the fact I did not accept his bet. If I don't shoot an elk, some other obscure payment is to be made. I can't even remember now, but it was funny at the time.
We sit there until 4pm, at which time some bulls start getting serious about their vocalizations. They have "struck up the band." Fun to listen to, even if you can't see them among the trees.
Finally, around 4:30, a group of cows comes off the face and streams out of the trees. They are looking back on their trail. The bugling is pretty loud. Out steps a very nice six point. He is harassing them, but they pay attention to his advances.
Soon, over twenty cows rotate feeding and bedding a mere 100 yards off the boundary. In the meantime, another really nice six point and a spike show up to test the air. Like the other bull, they are ignored.
By 5:00 pm, the ruckus on top of the ridges is getting carried away. Someone has thrown down. We hear the smashing of antlers. Through the trees, one nice bull is trying his hand at logging, though not near as proficient as Troy. Cows are chirping and whining. Someone has ants in their pants.
Now, Troy and I have our packs loaded and ready for any opportunity that might come. All the sounds are coming our direction. More elk are showing up. We now see over forty cows on the open slant 450 yards right across from us.
A deep bugle is coming down to join them. Almost like waiting for Christmas, we sit in suspense to see if he is as big as he sounds. He continues his tirade as we hang on his every echo. When he yells, another big bull further south replies. Not sure if they are friends or enemies, but they seem to have quite a conversation going on.
Finally, he emerges. Holy crap! His body and antlers match his bugle. He is the boss of this gathering. He chases one young cow and she denies his pleas. She stops as he approaches. He starts to rise on his hinds and she runs off. The drama continues for a few minutes and she finally lays down to protect her dignity.
He is not happy. He takes a few runs at the smaller bulls. Bulls I would gladly shoot if he needed me to help him in his cause. They scatter like scared cats. One unfortunate pine will not live to see another summer as the big bulls reduces it to an oozing pitch stump.
Having made his point, he goes and finds a bed in the shade of a pine. All the elk, cows and bulls alike, give him a wide berth.
Troy films it all and we are now nothing but smiles. Even if they don't give us a chance, this kind of stunt is what all elk hunters love to watch.
I am now making plans. We are south of the elk, on a ridge straight east of them. The bottom that separates us is public and heavily timbered. A trail runs the course of this drainage north to where the elk seem headed. The dry creek bottom eventually gives way to a big meadows with trees getting more sparse as one gets further north. The best feed is right in the bottom, about 250 yards into public.
I tell Troy I intend to wait for some cloud cover that will allow us to sneak off this ridge to the game trail that travels up the bottom to the scattered timber. I want to wait until the last light, hoping it will provide a steady downhill wind that will allow us to ease uphill with less risk of detection.
Troy is all excited and ready. I tell him we will depart at 6pm. By that time we now have over 100 cows bedded or feeding in the openings across from us. Many bulls are making their way in and out of the mass of elk turbulence. Some of them rivaling the big bull who came and let us film so much of his antics.
The wind is still fickle. I tell Troy that we are going to wait longer. Even though the elk are up and feeding and now within yards of the boundary, the wind has screwed us too many times this trip and I will not let it happen again. Troy is like a racehorse in the gates and Lexington Downs. I am more like a sedated over the hill old fart hoping for one last hurrah.
Finally, at 6:20, the wind has been blowing constantly down the drainage. Exactly what we would hope for as we sneak up the creek bottom. We shoulder our packs. I take one last look at the cows leading the procession toward the public land and the rich green grass that stands there.
Off we go. All in.
lbirch
Member
The last time I read this much in one night was in '97 while studying in college. I'm more of a picture guy with subtitles now.
idnative1948
Well-known member
Damn! You!
Summitthunting
Well-known member
Gonna be a late night, I likey.
montanadogs
New member
Guess I'll have to finish it in the morning. Great read, better then a lot of books.
Gerald Martin
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jul 3, 2009
- Messages
- 9,713
Sipping... Savoring every morsel. Great read! Carry on.
T Bone
Well-known member
I'm up all night. Write on Finn.
Up North 8
New member
A gripping tale....
[REFRESH....]
[REFRESH....]
jore07
New member
This is a great read, excellent story telling. Can't wait for more.
OK, getting close now.
The Montana FWP sunrise charts say sunset is around 7:30PM. We get a half hour past that, so I have until around 8:00. But, with the steep ridge to the west of this drainage, I know final shooting light will come way after the time we reach final filming light.
When we start, the sun is still above the ridge to the west. The elk are in the shade and we are in the sun. To avoid any unnecessary disclosure, I drop back behind our ridge and go a little further south, taking us completely our of view from the elk. They continue to rumble, giving us audio contact of what is going on.
Within five minutes we are safely in the bottom of the drainage. The wind is blowing even stronger in our favor down here. The sun is now out of sight as we dropped 100' of elevation to this trail. The trail is thick with hoof prints. They have traveled here today, no doubt. Makes me wonder how many are further down the drainage and now off limits as our odor drifts down to them. Can't worry about that.
We go forward as quietly as we can. The sound and smells increasing with each passing step. Things are going too well. Things never go this good, or at least not for long.
Finally, we reach a gap in the trees where I can see the openings ahead where I anticipate the elk will feed into, if they continue their same course. I tell Troy I am dropping my pack here. I cannot have any unnecessary movement or sounds. I am taking nothing but my GPS, bow, range finder, and binos. He likewise drops his pack, grabbing extra tapes and batteries.
We move forward with the wind steady in our face. The rutting just 100 yards to our left is frantic. They are on public at this time, but only a few yards to our favor. I want to get further ahead, but not too far ahead, for fear an uphill draft to their direction will spoil the stew.
We pause for a minute, letting them get further ahead of us. The trees are now sparse enough that I can see two cows feeding directly ahead about 150 yards. A string of thick pines runs another 40 yards in front of us, giving us cover to get more distance.
It is now such close quarters, I dare not go any further ahead. We find the best cover we can, twenty yards uphill from the trail that took us here. And hopefully, right in the midst of where the rut-fest will occur in the coming hour.
We sit and listen. Fighting bulls, screaming cows, and pounding hooves get my blood pressure rising. Troy sees antlers 50 yards to our left. Will he cut through the string of pines in front of us, presenting a shot, or will he go further out and check the cows? He stays on the other side of the pine row, emerging in front of us at 110 yards. Damn, close, but no cigar.
That bull is followed by a big group of cows. They take the same path. None cut through this string of pines that is serving as such great cover. I have ranged all obstacles in this opening. Straight in front is 25 yard shooting. To my left is nothing but short pines whose limbs allow no shot. To my right is close stuff at 25 yards if they take the trail we took and 45 yards if they get to the cusp of the creek below us. All makeable for me, if conditions are right.
As we sit there, the rutting is all we could have hoped for. One nice satellite bulls takes the initiative and leads a group of spikes and some cows way east, far into the public. Though he was 150 yards out in front, for him to so boldly go claim the turf to our east, helps our odds of the remaining stampede following his lead, either fully, or partially.
I was wearing one light shirt and another slightly heavier shirt, neither of which was a good choice for this cooler day when I am in the shade and the sun is now going down. The wind is giving me reason to stay lower and try to stay warmer.
Troy is filming the festivities around us. We have elk to our left 75 yards, behind the string of pines. We have elk out in front of us from 100 to 200 yards, all doing the crazy things elk do when they are rutting. Two spikes have been fighting for five minutes, as if the winner will get anything more beneficial than a butt whooping from some bigger bull.
The cows seem comfortable. A third of them find a nice little flat spot and bed down, content to watch the evening's entertainment. Troy looks at me and we both smile.
Seeing my shaking, Troy tells me I would be lucky to make a two-yard shot, let alone a twenty-two yard shot. I assure him when the adrenaline kicks in, all will be fine. Secretly, I share some of Troy's concerns.
Troy tells me he hears foot steps coming down the same path we took, Yeah, right. We walked that path thirty minutes ago and left out packs two feet off the trail. I look and see him to be correct. Three cows are coming our way, almost down wind from us. The path will take them to about 20 yards. They step out, feeding as if all is well. They look our way and stare us down. We don't move. Finally content, they move forward to join the party.
Right behind them a bull screams. He is about 35 yards away, but behind a group of small pines we had used for cover to get to our location. I tell Troy to get ready. We set up. The bull turns and heads back to grab two cows that are trailing behind. He horns them and they jump forward and down the hill a ways. They come out of cover 85 yards from us. Not a chance I am shooting there. If they had only stayed the course, I would have some 25 yard shooting. More bad luck.
We sit as still as we can. Troy is panning left, right, back left, wherever the mayhem is happening. We watch the two biggest bulls posture and now their herds have co-mingled. Neither is happy, but they seem to have mutual respect for the others hulking size and huge antlers. One is the big boy who performed so marvelously for the camera earlier. This is all happening 100-150 yards out.
All I need is for a hot cow to drag one of those big boys our direction. They better do it soon, as Troy is telling me that filming light is fading fast. What? We still have over a half hour of shooting light. He tells me we have about fifteen minutes. No way. That means I have to give up the last twenty minutes of legal shooting light. Producing TV sucks at times like this.
I am now concerned that all is lost. The big party is 100 yards away. No one wants to come to our part of the field and share any love with us. Can't blame them, but I am praying otherwise.
The lull in the close action makes me realize just how cold I am. I am now shivering so bad and the wind continues to hit me, I worry about a shot.
Troy taps me and tells me he hears more elk coming from the trail we had traveled to get here. I can hear footsteps. I look through an opening in the trees and see four cows coming our way. Damn it, where is the bull?
The cows step out in front no, more than fifteen yards. Should I take one? I have a tag. The meat will be great. The episode will end with a kill. It is an easy shot. Those questions are answered when a bull screams about 100 yards behind these cows. He screams loud and is panting and glunking. He means business.
The cows know something isn't right and move downhill and away from us. The one cows stands in front of a small dead snag, looking back at us. I range it. 38 yards. Doable, if I can hold still.
My attention is taken when the bull screams again, this time much, much, closer. I can see his antlers in between the limbs of the pines right in front of us. I tell Troy I am moving forward a few yards. I need every yard I can get, in case the bull veers off as some of the others have.
He is now growling. I look right and see him at about 25 yards, coming right down the trail. As he reaches the final pine tree, I rise to my knees and come to full draw. He stops and looks right at me. All I can see are his front legs below the pine limbs and his right antler sticking out from the tree. He has a couple whopper tines.
I hold. I hold. I dare not move. This is the last big chance. I cant my bow slightly down, locking my elbow to relieve the pressure of being at full draw for so long. I am still waiting. Over a minute has now passed. I am shaking from cold, adrenaline, and the strain of being a full draw for this long.
I tell myself to ignore the antlers. Come to my anchor, make sure the sight is fully centered and try watch the arrow through the sight if a chance comes. As I am going through these mental gymnastics the bull decides he has had enough. He quickly spins 45 degrees and starts trotting toward where his cows had exited.
Sorry, but the word limit to any one post is 10,000 characters. I have exceeded that. The rest of it will get posted immediately in a new thread.
The Montana FWP sunrise charts say sunset is around 7:30PM. We get a half hour past that, so I have until around 8:00. But, with the steep ridge to the west of this drainage, I know final shooting light will come way after the time we reach final filming light.
When we start, the sun is still above the ridge to the west. The elk are in the shade and we are in the sun. To avoid any unnecessary disclosure, I drop back behind our ridge and go a little further south, taking us completely our of view from the elk. They continue to rumble, giving us audio contact of what is going on.
Within five minutes we are safely in the bottom of the drainage. The wind is blowing even stronger in our favor down here. The sun is now out of sight as we dropped 100' of elevation to this trail. The trail is thick with hoof prints. They have traveled here today, no doubt. Makes me wonder how many are further down the drainage and now off limits as our odor drifts down to them. Can't worry about that.
We go forward as quietly as we can. The sound and smells increasing with each passing step. Things are going too well. Things never go this good, or at least not for long.
Finally, we reach a gap in the trees where I can see the openings ahead where I anticipate the elk will feed into, if they continue their same course. I tell Troy I am dropping my pack here. I cannot have any unnecessary movement or sounds. I am taking nothing but my GPS, bow, range finder, and binos. He likewise drops his pack, grabbing extra tapes and batteries.
We move forward with the wind steady in our face. The rutting just 100 yards to our left is frantic. They are on public at this time, but only a few yards to our favor. I want to get further ahead, but not too far ahead, for fear an uphill draft to their direction will spoil the stew.
We pause for a minute, letting them get further ahead of us. The trees are now sparse enough that I can see two cows feeding directly ahead about 150 yards. A string of thick pines runs another 40 yards in front of us, giving us cover to get more distance.
It is now such close quarters, I dare not go any further ahead. We find the best cover we can, twenty yards uphill from the trail that took us here. And hopefully, right in the midst of where the rut-fest will occur in the coming hour.
We sit and listen. Fighting bulls, screaming cows, and pounding hooves get my blood pressure rising. Troy sees antlers 50 yards to our left. Will he cut through the string of pines in front of us, presenting a shot, or will he go further out and check the cows? He stays on the other side of the pine row, emerging in front of us at 110 yards. Damn, close, but no cigar.
That bull is followed by a big group of cows. They take the same path. None cut through this string of pines that is serving as such great cover. I have ranged all obstacles in this opening. Straight in front is 25 yard shooting. To my left is nothing but short pines whose limbs allow no shot. To my right is close stuff at 25 yards if they take the trail we took and 45 yards if they get to the cusp of the creek below us. All makeable for me, if conditions are right.
As we sit there, the rutting is all we could have hoped for. One nice satellite bulls takes the initiative and leads a group of spikes and some cows way east, far into the public. Though he was 150 yards out in front, for him to so boldly go claim the turf to our east, helps our odds of the remaining stampede following his lead, either fully, or partially.
I was wearing one light shirt and another slightly heavier shirt, neither of which was a good choice for this cooler day when I am in the shade and the sun is now going down. The wind is giving me reason to stay lower and try to stay warmer.
Troy is filming the festivities around us. We have elk to our left 75 yards, behind the string of pines. We have elk out in front of us from 100 to 200 yards, all doing the crazy things elk do when they are rutting. Two spikes have been fighting for five minutes, as if the winner will get anything more beneficial than a butt whooping from some bigger bull.
The cows seem comfortable. A third of them find a nice little flat spot and bed down, content to watch the evening's entertainment. Troy looks at me and we both smile.
Seeing my shaking, Troy tells me I would be lucky to make a two-yard shot, let alone a twenty-two yard shot. I assure him when the adrenaline kicks in, all will be fine. Secretly, I share some of Troy's concerns.
Troy tells me he hears foot steps coming down the same path we took, Yeah, right. We walked that path thirty minutes ago and left out packs two feet off the trail. I look and see him to be correct. Three cows are coming our way, almost down wind from us. The path will take them to about 20 yards. They step out, feeding as if all is well. They look our way and stare us down. We don't move. Finally content, they move forward to join the party.
Right behind them a bull screams. He is about 35 yards away, but behind a group of small pines we had used for cover to get to our location. I tell Troy to get ready. We set up. The bull turns and heads back to grab two cows that are trailing behind. He horns them and they jump forward and down the hill a ways. They come out of cover 85 yards from us. Not a chance I am shooting there. If they had only stayed the course, I would have some 25 yard shooting. More bad luck.
We sit as still as we can. Troy is panning left, right, back left, wherever the mayhem is happening. We watch the two biggest bulls posture and now their herds have co-mingled. Neither is happy, but they seem to have mutual respect for the others hulking size and huge antlers. One is the big boy who performed so marvelously for the camera earlier. This is all happening 100-150 yards out.
All I need is for a hot cow to drag one of those big boys our direction. They better do it soon, as Troy is telling me that filming light is fading fast. What? We still have over a half hour of shooting light. He tells me we have about fifteen minutes. No way. That means I have to give up the last twenty minutes of legal shooting light. Producing TV sucks at times like this.
I am now concerned that all is lost. The big party is 100 yards away. No one wants to come to our part of the field and share any love with us. Can't blame them, but I am praying otherwise.
The lull in the close action makes me realize just how cold I am. I am now shivering so bad and the wind continues to hit me, I worry about a shot.
Troy taps me and tells me he hears more elk coming from the trail we had traveled to get here. I can hear footsteps. I look through an opening in the trees and see four cows coming our way. Damn it, where is the bull?
The cows step out in front no, more than fifteen yards. Should I take one? I have a tag. The meat will be great. The episode will end with a kill. It is an easy shot. Those questions are answered when a bull screams about 100 yards behind these cows. He screams loud and is panting and glunking. He means business.
The cows know something isn't right and move downhill and away from us. The one cows stands in front of a small dead snag, looking back at us. I range it. 38 yards. Doable, if I can hold still.
My attention is taken when the bull screams again, this time much, much, closer. I can see his antlers in between the limbs of the pines right in front of us. I tell Troy I am moving forward a few yards. I need every yard I can get, in case the bull veers off as some of the others have.
He is now growling. I look right and see him at about 25 yards, coming right down the trail. As he reaches the final pine tree, I rise to my knees and come to full draw. He stops and looks right at me. All I can see are his front legs below the pine limbs and his right antler sticking out from the tree. He has a couple whopper tines.
I hold. I hold. I dare not move. This is the last big chance. I cant my bow slightly down, locking my elbow to relieve the pressure of being at full draw for so long. I am still waiting. Over a minute has now passed. I am shaking from cold, adrenaline, and the strain of being a full draw for this long.
I tell myself to ignore the antlers. Come to my anchor, make sure the sight is fully centered and try watch the arrow through the sight if a chance comes. As I am going through these mental gymnastics the bull decides he has had enough. He quickly spins 45 degrees and starts trotting toward where his cows had exited.
Sorry, but the word limit to any one post is 10,000 characters. I have exceeded that. The rest of it will get posted immediately in a new thread.
I tell myself to ignore the antlers. Come to my anchor, make sure the sight is fully centered and try watch the arrow through the sight if a chance comes. As I am going through these mental gymnastics the bull decides he has had enough. He quickly spins 45 degrees and starts trotting toward where his cows had exited.
I am not sure what noises I was making, but the bull was not paying much attention. Troy let out a loud whistle. The bull stopped and looked back, almost broadside, but slightly quartering away. I had no time to range, but saw he was standing right behind the dead bush his cow had stood at a few minutes earlier.
Though I had gained a few yards in moving foward, he was also a few yards further away. As I had rehearsed, I anchored, centered the sight, brought the 40 yard pin to a muddy spot where I thought would take the arrow out behind the opposite shoulder.
With no conscious shot, the arrow was on its way. I watched through the sight as the white fletching disappeared from view. It appeared to be a perfect arrow. A loud crack was equaled by the bull racing east further into the public, then sprinting up toward the big herd further north. I watched as he reached a little flat spot. He started spinning in circles. The other elk watch him behave strangely.
In less than 45 seconds he was on his side, dead from one lethal broadhead. I turned to Troy in disbelief. I didn't know what to say. Had this really happened? He was equally stunned as I was. He did not get a good look at the bull, rather focused on filming. But, he thought it was a good one. I assured him of such.
We had to run back and get our packs. By the time we got to the bull, all filming light had expired, but we did as much TV as we could with the aid of head lamps. By the time we got to photos, it was pretty much dark.
I will post the picture now, so some of you can go to bed. I will post one more reply with a lot of additional commentary relevant to how the footage will look on TV.
Thanks for following along. Your encouragement and support is greatly appreciated. Troy is not only a dear friend, but when you see this episode, will once again prove himself to be the best field producer in all of outdoor TV.
A few pics, as promised. Thanks Troy. You da man!
Big Fin is happy!
Holy G3s Batman. Lawnboy and I put a tape on that one 28.5".
A broken G2 from his time while in velvet. Oh well, nets are for fishing.
I am not sure what noises I was making, but the bull was not paying much attention. Troy let out a loud whistle. The bull stopped and looked back, almost broadside, but slightly quartering away. I had no time to range, but saw he was standing right behind the dead bush his cow had stood at a few minutes earlier.
Though I had gained a few yards in moving foward, he was also a few yards further away. As I had rehearsed, I anchored, centered the sight, brought the 40 yard pin to a muddy spot where I thought would take the arrow out behind the opposite shoulder.
With no conscious shot, the arrow was on its way. I watched through the sight as the white fletching disappeared from view. It appeared to be a perfect arrow. A loud crack was equaled by the bull racing east further into the public, then sprinting up toward the big herd further north. I watched as he reached a little flat spot. He started spinning in circles. The other elk watch him behave strangely.
In less than 45 seconds he was on his side, dead from one lethal broadhead. I turned to Troy in disbelief. I didn't know what to say. Had this really happened? He was equally stunned as I was. He did not get a good look at the bull, rather focused on filming. But, he thought it was a good one. I assured him of such.
We had to run back and get our packs. By the time we got to the bull, all filming light had expired, but we did as much TV as we could with the aid of head lamps. By the time we got to photos, it was pretty much dark.
I will post the picture now, so some of you can go to bed. I will post one more reply with a lot of additional commentary relevant to how the footage will look on TV.
Thanks for following along. Your encouragement and support is greatly appreciated. Troy is not only a dear friend, but when you see this episode, will once again prove himself to be the best field producer in all of outdoor TV.
A few pics, as promised. Thanks Troy. You da man!
Big Fin is happy!
Holy G3s Batman. Lawnboy and I put a tape on that one 28.5".
A broken G2 from his time while in velvet. Oh well, nets are for fishing.
gman82001
Member
- Joined
- Aug 13, 2011
- Messages
- 357
Wohoooooooo now I really fired up way to go randy
Up North 8
New member
Woooooooot!!! Super intense hunt!
