blueridge
Well-known member
I witnessed a unique new elk hunting strategy that I hope will NOT start sweeping the country.
At daybreak, after a brutal 2400’ climb in Idaho’s famous flatlands
, I finally found the herd way back and way up. 20+ cows and the bull of a lifetime. A dandy 7x7.
They were relaxed, feeding on the hillside amongst strips of timber I’ve known them to bed in from previous years. It’s a great secure spot for them: open hillside below and opposite, rock slide west and above, saddle to the east. I was tucked into a tree at the top of the opposite hillside 390yds away.
The play of 90% of successful elk hunters I know:
Wait, let them bed (you’re not pulling him away from his cows down and then up an open hillside), back out and circle around out of view and come into them downwind through the saddle (takes about an hour), get on his level, get close, start your calling sequence.
I watch them for over 1.5hrs. They’re starting to bed down. The bull is bugling, rounding up wandering cows. I can’t believe my opportunity! And then…
Out of the corner of my eye I see another hunter 200yds down the ridge I’m on walking straight towards the herd, right out in the open, blowing on a spike call. He was in the zone!! He would throw his head back as he blew. He WAS an elk!! The cows would love him. The bull would envy him. His method acting training would give him the trophy of a lifetime!!! His full hunter workshops will make him rich!
Do I settle in to watch the brilliance? Hell no, this fool is about to blow these elk into the next county! I whistle at him to get his attention to threaten his life. He ignores/doesn’t hear me. I grab my gear and try to get to the saddle to cut them off. It’s only 600 more vertical feet. Isn’t happening. I am still nowhere close when I see the whole herd disappear through the saddle. I sit down in equal parts anger and disbelief, watching this dude follow them up and over, never to be seen again. I had SO many things I wanted to say!!! SO many questions to ask!!! Answers, gone forever.
To the hunting pioneer, the inspiring innovator in the green/blue pants and brown shirt, the flowing brown hair with slight bald spot, whose chariot is a white pickup from West Virginia with topper and Kodiak sticker (was that too specific??), I have some unsolicited advice… before you come to hunt elk on our beautiful public lands again, perfect some Van Halen on that spike call. Your odds would be about the same.
At daybreak, after a brutal 2400’ climb in Idaho’s famous flatlands
, I finally found the herd way back and way up. 20+ cows and the bull of a lifetime. A dandy 7x7.They were relaxed, feeding on the hillside amongst strips of timber I’ve known them to bed in from previous years. It’s a great secure spot for them: open hillside below and opposite, rock slide west and above, saddle to the east. I was tucked into a tree at the top of the opposite hillside 390yds away.
The play of 90% of successful elk hunters I know:
Wait, let them bed (you’re not pulling him away from his cows down and then up an open hillside), back out and circle around out of view and come into them downwind through the saddle (takes about an hour), get on his level, get close, start your calling sequence.
I watch them for over 1.5hrs. They’re starting to bed down. The bull is bugling, rounding up wandering cows. I can’t believe my opportunity! And then…
Out of the corner of my eye I see another hunter 200yds down the ridge I’m on walking straight towards the herd, right out in the open, blowing on a spike call. He was in the zone!! He would throw his head back as he blew. He WAS an elk!! The cows would love him. The bull would envy him. His method acting training would give him the trophy of a lifetime!!! His full hunter workshops will make him rich!
Do I settle in to watch the brilliance? Hell no, this fool is about to blow these elk into the next county! I whistle at him to get his attention to threaten his life. He ignores/doesn’t hear me. I grab my gear and try to get to the saddle to cut them off. It’s only 600 more vertical feet. Isn’t happening. I am still nowhere close when I see the whole herd disappear through the saddle. I sit down in equal parts anger and disbelief, watching this dude follow them up and over, never to be seen again. I had SO many things I wanted to say!!! SO many questions to ask!!! Answers, gone forever.
To the hunting pioneer, the inspiring innovator in the green/blue pants and brown shirt, the flowing brown hair with slight bald spot, whose chariot is a white pickup from West Virginia with topper and Kodiak sticker (was that too specific??), I have some unsolicited advice… before you come to hunt elk on our beautiful public lands again, perfect some Van Halen on that spike call. Your odds would be about the same.
