seahuntr
New member
I haven't posted here before but I thought the story of my wife's first elk might be of interest to some.
My wife of many years has been hunting with me for a decade or two. Or more. Mostly as a hunter and tag holder but sometimes as just a companion. She has taken her share of deer and antelope over the years, and has had some opportunities on elk that in the end she passed on for her own reasons. She has been in some very tough conditions and situations with me, and has always been cheerful and positive in attitude, even when I have not. I tend to hunt alone or with her because I just haven't found many who can match my schedule, and she has been with me on countless hunts. I should add here that she is tough as nails after a 30 year fishing career commercial fishing in Alaska, the first half purse seining for salmon and the second half on our halibut longliner fishing offshore in the Gulf of Alaska We still do tough hunts, even though we are "of a certain age" ( let's just say we don't pay full price at the mo[vies any more, and she could be grandmother to some of you). She wears her years better than me, thank heavens, and she keeps herself in shape for hunting season. She even accompanies me on my archery elk hunts, though she doesn't shoot a bow, just for the love of it, and those are some pretty tough hunts. [
Backpacking in for archery season She has wanted to get an elk for a long time and has hunted hard for them. She has been applying for some limited permits here in Montana in different areas, just to mix it up a bit. This year she finally got drawn in what is supposed to be a good area, at least statistically, so I was excited for her to not only get an elk, but maybe a decent bull. We took a couple of scouting trips this summer, talked to the biologist, and some landowners. The biologist was pretty downbeat about her chances because it was her experience that as soon as the elk were pressured during the bow season most of them moved to a huge ranch in the middle of the unit and didn't leave. Of course the ranch doesn't allow hunting.. The good news was that the bull/cow ratio was crazy at almost 1;1 AFTER the season last year. She told us that there were always a few stragglers around but they would be hard to find. On both scouting trips we didn't see a single elk, but we got the lay of the land and got some permission from a landowner or two for later in the season, who reinforced the biologist report of slim chances. So our first week or 10 days would be on the public land, which we always hunt elsewhere anyway, and even lower chances.
After a very frustrating and unsuccessful archery season I was looking forward intently to a change of scenery and a chance to help Joy with her elk hunt, even if the chances weren't too good.
We got to our area a few days before the start of the season for some scouting and relaxing. The relaxing was good but the scouting, like our previous trips, turned up zip. With a pretty good winter storm forecast for the 3rd day of the season we made a plan to hunt the first day in one area, then if we were unsuccessful or hadn't seen much, use day 2 to move to an area where better roads would still allow us access to the public ground to hunt.
Up at 4am the first morning and a mile in from the road by daylight in a place where I thought there should be some elk. After walking and glassing until noon with absolutely no game spotted, we sat down for lunch pretty discouraged. I was afraid Joy was thinking about firing her sherpa. I took out my cellphone and was surpeised to find that we had service. Though I don't normally use the cellphone while hunting I told Joy I was so disgusted and bored I thought I'd call my brother in Hawaii and give him the critter report so far, which was one bird and a bunch of flies on our food. That was it! After a few laughs with bro at the absurdity of it all we hung up and ate lunch. Then we saddled up and continued on our trail of tears, all the while hoping against hope that we would see SOMETHING.
It was not to be. We hike out in the dark after one of the few completely blank days I had ever had. No deer, no elk, not even a rabbit. We had covered 8 miles and seen nothing but another bird and a bunch more flies. Through all this I was trying, without complete success, to match Joy's positive attitude. "We'll find them, it's only the first day", she said. And I replied that yes, we would, but inside I was having grave doubts. Instead of holding out for a good bull, or any bull for that matter, I was thinking of telling her that since her permit was actually for either sex she might consider taking the first elk of any kind that we saw within range. That is if we ever saw any elk within range.
The next day we were too beat( it's a bitch gettin' old) to get enthused and I didn't have a better idea, so we activated the original plan and moved camp some 30 miles to a different part of the unit. After over 40 years of elk hunting my first rule is if there aren't any elk around, you have to go find them. After getting camp set up I decided to use the few hours of daylight left to scout the area we planned to hunt the next day while Joy got camp squared away. The advertised storm was forecast to hit that night. My scouting hike turned up absolutely nothing, and I knew it was going to be raw weather the next day. I wondered if we should even go in the blowing snow and cold temps we were in for. I asked Joy what she wanted to do and she said she wanted to go for it.
So, up at 5 to look out the door. The snow was just starting to accumulate and the wind was howling and cold. But we both knew from years on the ocean that no matter how bad it is, it's almost never as bad as it looks once you are out in it. You can almost always find something to enjoy. A quick breakfast, Kiss the old dog goodbye, and on the trail by 6:30, and hour before light.
It was indeed a raw morning. We walked in a mile and cut up a ridge in blowing snow. after a few hundred yards Joy pointed out a nice muley buck that we had bumped out of his bed. Though we had deer tags we weren't interested in deer, at least not yet. The buck would go around a finger ridge or two below us, and we'd bump him again. With new snow I figured if there were any elk around we'd at least cut some tracks. After a couple hours of this we had seen no other animals but that buck and no other tracks in the snow but his. I'd had enough and I suggested we get down off the ridge into the timber that we had been above, and reverse direction and hunt our way back to the truck. Maybe we would run across that buck and have something to show for the morning, and a hot lunch was sounding pretty good.
We ducked down a side ridge and started back, slowly working the timber. After crossing a couple small draws we came below where I thought we had last seen the buck crossing a small clearing on a bench. Joy wanted to check the bench so we walked up the 20 feet or so to the edge and peeked into the clearing. We looked up across the clearing through the blizzard and saw a bull elk walking through the trees and scrub on the other side, about 150 yards away. There was a lot of junk and branches in the way but I could see horns, though not clearly. The bull was a complete surprise and we were a little bit stunned by the sight. We were not really in a shooting position so we ducked back down quickly and for a second I actually questioned what I had seen. I told Joy I knew I had seen horns but he was moving and I didn't know if he would still be visible. We got to our knees and quickly looked back over the rise. No elk visible. Now I was seriously questioning what I had seen. Joy asked what we do now. I was already thinking this was going to be a tracking session in the snow, which is actually one of my favorite things in life, but I said now we look around for a minute before making any moves.
I put the binos up and after a minute, through the snow I saw a dark brown elk neck with some horns over it through the trees and bushes. The bull was standing still, facing us, but he was looking 90 degrees to his right, our left, watching his backtrack.. I pointed out the neck to Joy but that was all we could see, and even that was obscured by branches, as were his antlers. Not a good shot. Joy dropped her pack and got her shooting sticks out, as I had taught her my second rule of elk hunting, which is that if something is happening, get ready to shoot because you never know what will happen and it may happen fast. There was some ground juniper in front of us that prevented a prone shot and there were no other rests around. Any stable shot was going to require those sticks.
I told her that I was going to move about 15 feet to our left and see if that spot would give us a better angle. I ducked down and moved over but when I looked up I couldn't see any part of the elk. I was afraiod he had moved off. When I got back to Joy I could see he had moved to a slightly more favorable position, still almost facing us but not clear enough for a shot. As we studied the situation in the glasses both Joy and I noticed there was a gap in the branches about a foot square that was centered on his left shoulder. Since he was facing slightly to our left a shot there would enter his brisket between his left shoulder and low on his neck and pass diagonally through his chest. Joy is an absolutely dead shot with her .270 featherweight. I told her I knew she could make that shot, that the perfect shot rarely presents itself, and one step by the bull in any direction and there would be no shot at all. After considerring it, she said she knew she could make the shot too. I told her if she felt that way she should take it, it was an entirely legit shot.
I watched her get down behind her scope, steady the sticks and take a deep breath. A second later the .270 barked. The bull turned, stumbled, recoved, and disappeared. Knowing how well she shoots and seeing the stumble I felt pretty good about the shot and so did she. We waited a few minutes, gathered our stuff, and began walking up the hill toward where he had gone out of sight. After about 20 yards our angle changed and I could see the bull lying motionless about 15 feet from where we had last seen him. Though I was as excited as Joy I held back to let her walk up on the bull. As I stood back looking at the elk through my binoculars I started to see that maybe he wasn't a small bull after all. I stayed back to let Joy walk up on her first elk and have a moment alone with her accomplishment. After a minute I walked up to find her standing over a magnificent 6X7.
We have never been interested in trophies, for us it's all about the hunt. But I'm really happy that her first elk was worthy of her dedication. She made a perfect shot in a tough situation, in nasty conditions. And she carried a fair amount of that bull out on her back. Who knows how many more years we will be able to do this together. Long after I can no longer get up the hill the memory of that hunt, and my wife's first elk, will never be far from my mind. I'm so proud of her.
My wife of many years has been hunting with me for a decade or two. Or more. Mostly as a hunter and tag holder but sometimes as just a companion. She has taken her share of deer and antelope over the years, and has had some opportunities on elk that in the end she passed on for her own reasons. She has been in some very tough conditions and situations with me, and has always been cheerful and positive in attitude, even when I have not. I tend to hunt alone or with her because I just haven't found many who can match my schedule, and she has been with me on countless hunts. I should add here that she is tough as nails after a 30 year fishing career commercial fishing in Alaska, the first half purse seining for salmon and the second half on our halibut longliner fishing offshore in the Gulf of Alaska We still do tough hunts, even though we are "of a certain age" ( let's just say we don't pay full price at the mo[vies any more, and she could be grandmother to some of you). She wears her years better than me, thank heavens, and she keeps herself in shape for hunting season. She even accompanies me on my archery elk hunts, though she doesn't shoot a bow, just for the love of it, and those are some pretty tough hunts. [
Backpacking in for archery season She has wanted to get an elk for a long time and has hunted hard for them. She has been applying for some limited permits here in Montana in different areas, just to mix it up a bit. This year she finally got drawn in what is supposed to be a good area, at least statistically, so I was excited for her to not only get an elk, but maybe a decent bull. We took a couple of scouting trips this summer, talked to the biologist, and some landowners. The biologist was pretty downbeat about her chances because it was her experience that as soon as the elk were pressured during the bow season most of them moved to a huge ranch in the middle of the unit and didn't leave. Of course the ranch doesn't allow hunting.. The good news was that the bull/cow ratio was crazy at almost 1;1 AFTER the season last year. She told us that there were always a few stragglers around but they would be hard to find. On both scouting trips we didn't see a single elk, but we got the lay of the land and got some permission from a landowner or two for later in the season, who reinforced the biologist report of slim chances. So our first week or 10 days would be on the public land, which we always hunt elsewhere anyway, and even lower chances.After a very frustrating and unsuccessful archery season I was looking forward intently to a change of scenery and a chance to help Joy with her elk hunt, even if the chances weren't too good.
We got to our area a few days before the start of the season for some scouting and relaxing. The relaxing was good but the scouting, like our previous trips, turned up zip. With a pretty good winter storm forecast for the 3rd day of the season we made a plan to hunt the first day in one area, then if we were unsuccessful or hadn't seen much, use day 2 to move to an area where better roads would still allow us access to the public ground to hunt.
Up at 4am the first morning and a mile in from the road by daylight in a place where I thought there should be some elk. After walking and glassing until noon with absolutely no game spotted, we sat down for lunch pretty discouraged. I was afraid Joy was thinking about firing her sherpa. I took out my cellphone and was surpeised to find that we had service. Though I don't normally use the cellphone while hunting I told Joy I was so disgusted and bored I thought I'd call my brother in Hawaii and give him the critter report so far, which was one bird and a bunch of flies on our food. That was it! After a few laughs with bro at the absurdity of it all we hung up and ate lunch. Then we saddled up and continued on our trail of tears, all the while hoping against hope that we would see SOMETHING.
It was not to be. We hike out in the dark after one of the few completely blank days I had ever had. No deer, no elk, not even a rabbit. We had covered 8 miles and seen nothing but another bird and a bunch more flies. Through all this I was trying, without complete success, to match Joy's positive attitude. "We'll find them, it's only the first day", she said. And I replied that yes, we would, but inside I was having grave doubts. Instead of holding out for a good bull, or any bull for that matter, I was thinking of telling her that since her permit was actually for either sex she might consider taking the first elk of any kind that we saw within range. That is if we ever saw any elk within range.
The next day we were too beat( it's a bitch gettin' old) to get enthused and I didn't have a better idea, so we activated the original plan and moved camp some 30 miles to a different part of the unit. After over 40 years of elk hunting my first rule is if there aren't any elk around, you have to go find them. After getting camp set up I decided to use the few hours of daylight left to scout the area we planned to hunt the next day while Joy got camp squared away. The advertised storm was forecast to hit that night. My scouting hike turned up absolutely nothing, and I knew it was going to be raw weather the next day. I wondered if we should even go in the blowing snow and cold temps we were in for. I asked Joy what she wanted to do and she said she wanted to go for it.
So, up at 5 to look out the door. The snow was just starting to accumulate and the wind was howling and cold. But we both knew from years on the ocean that no matter how bad it is, it's almost never as bad as it looks once you are out in it. You can almost always find something to enjoy. A quick breakfast, Kiss the old dog goodbye, and on the trail by 6:30, and hour before light.
It was indeed a raw morning. We walked in a mile and cut up a ridge in blowing snow. after a few hundred yards Joy pointed out a nice muley buck that we had bumped out of his bed. Though we had deer tags we weren't interested in deer, at least not yet. The buck would go around a finger ridge or two below us, and we'd bump him again. With new snow I figured if there were any elk around we'd at least cut some tracks. After a couple hours of this we had seen no other animals but that buck and no other tracks in the snow but his. I'd had enough and I suggested we get down off the ridge into the timber that we had been above, and reverse direction and hunt our way back to the truck. Maybe we would run across that buck and have something to show for the morning, and a hot lunch was sounding pretty good.
We ducked down a side ridge and started back, slowly working the timber. After crossing a couple small draws we came below where I thought we had last seen the buck crossing a small clearing on a bench. Joy wanted to check the bench so we walked up the 20 feet or so to the edge and peeked into the clearing. We looked up across the clearing through the blizzard and saw a bull elk walking through the trees and scrub on the other side, about 150 yards away. There was a lot of junk and branches in the way but I could see horns, though not clearly. The bull was a complete surprise and we were a little bit stunned by the sight. We were not really in a shooting position so we ducked back down quickly and for a second I actually questioned what I had seen. I told Joy I knew I had seen horns but he was moving and I didn't know if he would still be visible. We got to our knees and quickly looked back over the rise. No elk visible. Now I was seriously questioning what I had seen. Joy asked what we do now. I was already thinking this was going to be a tracking session in the snow, which is actually one of my favorite things in life, but I said now we look around for a minute before making any moves.
I put the binos up and after a minute, through the snow I saw a dark brown elk neck with some horns over it through the trees and bushes. The bull was standing still, facing us, but he was looking 90 degrees to his right, our left, watching his backtrack.. I pointed out the neck to Joy but that was all we could see, and even that was obscured by branches, as were his antlers. Not a good shot. Joy dropped her pack and got her shooting sticks out, as I had taught her my second rule of elk hunting, which is that if something is happening, get ready to shoot because you never know what will happen and it may happen fast. There was some ground juniper in front of us that prevented a prone shot and there were no other rests around. Any stable shot was going to require those sticks.
I told her that I was going to move about 15 feet to our left and see if that spot would give us a better angle. I ducked down and moved over but when I looked up I couldn't see any part of the elk. I was afraiod he had moved off. When I got back to Joy I could see he had moved to a slightly more favorable position, still almost facing us but not clear enough for a shot. As we studied the situation in the glasses both Joy and I noticed there was a gap in the branches about a foot square that was centered on his left shoulder. Since he was facing slightly to our left a shot there would enter his brisket between his left shoulder and low on his neck and pass diagonally through his chest. Joy is an absolutely dead shot with her .270 featherweight. I told her I knew she could make that shot, that the perfect shot rarely presents itself, and one step by the bull in any direction and there would be no shot at all. After considerring it, she said she knew she could make the shot too. I told her if she felt that way she should take it, it was an entirely legit shot.
I watched her get down behind her scope, steady the sticks and take a deep breath. A second later the .270 barked. The bull turned, stumbled, recoved, and disappeared. Knowing how well she shoots and seeing the stumble I felt pretty good about the shot and so did she. We waited a few minutes, gathered our stuff, and began walking up the hill toward where he had gone out of sight. After about 20 yards our angle changed and I could see the bull lying motionless about 15 feet from where we had last seen him. Though I was as excited as Joy I held back to let her walk up on the bull. As I stood back looking at the elk through my binoculars I started to see that maybe he wasn't a small bull after all. I stayed back to let Joy walk up on her first elk and have a moment alone with her accomplishment. After a minute I walked up to find her standing over a magnificent 6X7.
We have never been interested in trophies, for us it's all about the hunt. But I'm really happy that her first elk was worthy of her dedication. She made a perfect shot in a tough situation, in nasty conditions. And she carried a fair amount of that bull out on her back. Who knows how many more years we will be able to do this together. Long after I can no longer get up the hill the memory of that hunt, and my wife's first elk, will never be far from my mind. I'm so proud of her.
