It took about a half hour to get to the pinion. I looked to the north and somehow the big herd had seen or smelled us and have moved off to the northwest, making lots of noise and ruckus along their path.
From our glassing location, the wind was strong from the west. I had hoped the wind would be a strong west out on this point where the bull had bedded, as I had planned my approach from the east. The ridge ran from the north, tapering to the south. There were small rock rims along the west face and this bull was bedded at the base of the most accessible rock clump on this west face.
A huge relief as I dropped my pack at this lone pinion and felt the 15 mph wind blowing steady into my face from the west. So far, so good.
I pointed to Troy a little dead snag of a tree that I had marked as just being slightly to the south of where the bull had bedded. If he was still there, he was right in front of us 100 yards. We moved forward with the greatest of caution, using the rocks as our stepping stones, as the grass was too dry and noisy.
We were now within 20 yards of the rock ledge. I had guessed this pile to be 8'-10' high, so we would soon be able to see over the crest to what might below. The big herd stood across the drainage looking at us with bewilderment. They seemed curious as to our efforts. Obviously, not many people walk into this roadless grasslands to chase these elk.
It was now six inches at a time. One step every minute. At ten yards I stood atop a smaller rock to look down. Nothing. I was sure I could see most everything below. I turned to Troy and shrugged my shoulders - we must have missed out.
We eased forward to five yards. We strained our eyes to see the elk we hoped might be there. Nothing.
The bull across the ridge bugled. Instantly a bugle was returned below us, but I could not tell where from. It was hoarse and raspy, as if bugling was more effort than the bull wanted to expend. I looked at Troy. He was as confused as I was.
Steps were now infrequent and inches at a time. We stood still for minutes, waiting for the noise maker below us to give an exact reading. Still nothing. I told Troy he must have moved further down the ridge when the other group had moved out.
We took one more step forward. Before I could peak over, Troy put his arm on me and leaned back. He had seen the bulls rack right below him. I leaned forward six inches and could now see the butt of an elk and the top tines. We were less than ten feet away.
I looked at Troy to make sure he was rolling. He nodded.
The wind blew even stronger in our faces, concealing our presence from the bull. With hand signals, I told Troy I could lean forward and shoot the bull in his bed. Troy indicated that he wanted a standing shot.
Troy calls the shot for filming, so I agreed.
I moved forward six inches and could now see everything other than the bull's eyes. He was panting heavily in the heat. He was rolling his head and flicking his ears to keep the flies at bay. I could hear the rustling of his fur as he shook his head. He laid his rack on the rocks and it made a loud clank.
I could not believe he was this tight to the rocks. I had never been this close to an animal I intended to shoot. Amazing.
I was locked and loaded as Troy moved forward more. I thought he would eventually skyline and bring the bull to his feet. Nope. As Troy put the tripod on the edge of the rock pile, he had to point almost directly down with the camera to get any footage. Surely the bull would see him and I could shoot.
We stood their for ten minutes with the camera rolling and me shaking like a leaf, hoping the bull would stand and give us a shot, rather than run off wildly spooked.
Finally I saw the bull rock back and forth as though he was getting ready to move. As I came to full draw he rose to his feet and looked up. He must have thought, "What the hell are those things above me?"
He slowly turned broadside to start moving to a new location. Troy said to take him. He was so close, I really couldn't tell where I was holding, but instinctively thought I was on his ribs higher up and would drive the arrow out the bottom on the far side of his chest.
I released with no further delay. I heard a smack and the bull jumped forward, then turned back to look at the arrow. I asked Troy if I had missed. In the hustle and turmoil, the bull noticed us and starting walking to our right. How could I have missed?
I knocked another arrow in disbelief that I could have missed. The bull was facing away at 25 yards. Troy was demanding I shoot as quick as the bull turned. I was ready. All the bull needed to do was turn.
I watched as he started to stagger. He dropped his head and he started swaggering and staggering. It must have been a good hit. A second later he fell to his side and rolled one time.
I looked at Troy. We both questioned if this had really happened. Neither of us had ever been that close to such a great animal for such a long time.
I sure hope the TV footage is as good as it looks on the view finder of the camera. I am still amazed that it worked according to plan.
I looked at the shot. It entered about 2/3 up the ribs just behind the shoulder blade and exited just above the brisket on the far side. That bull was dead on impact. Whew, what a relief.
Then, the work started, It was hot. We had to get the bull boned and in the shade of the pinion tree ASAP. We were done with that task and loaded with the first loads of meat by 3:00 pm.
We packed until 9:00pm last night and then drove the hour back to camp. All meat is salvaged and on ice at this time. We are finishing out TV stuff today and will hopefully be in ABQ tonight.
I really thought this would be a tough hunt, and it was. The terrain is difficult and demanding. The quality of the bulls in the roadless area is exceptional. It is hot, dry, and desolate. Can't wait to come back.
The bull I shot has a deformed pedicle on his driver's side. It emerges from his head just above his eye. It is extremely heavy, but short. The other side is long with seven great tines. Had the other side matched the passenger side, he would be close to 340. As it is, with symmetry being a penalty, I have no idea what he will score, and I do not really care.
The measurement of this experience is not inches or scores, but the satisfaction of coming to a new area, analyzing the landscape and conditions, formulating a plan, and having it all come together in a manner that most guys told me was impossible without the benefit of trees and cover.
Add to that the challenges of capturing on film and sharing it with a great guy like Troy, and it will be hard to top the memories this hunt will provide. I only hope the episode does justice to the amazing experience this hunt represents.
Knowing I will never again shoot an elk one foot in front of me and six feet below me, the memories of this one will last a lifetime.
Thanks Troy. You are not only a remarkable cameraman, but a great friend.
