nmelktrout
New member
Happy New Year, Amigos.
Here are a couple of photos from my recent elk hunt in New Mexico with my father. For the first time in many years none of my hunting brothers (Bmack or Casey) were available to join me on a hunt. Not only did that mean that I had to corral my old man without any help in some tough country, it also meant that I had less muscle to help pack meat out of hell holes. I shot this bull on the second afternoon of our hunt. Thanks to his mass, I completely under-judged his size when I first located him and then shot him. I knew I'd shot a good bull, but was floored when I actually walked up to him. It took us 2 days to pack the 275lbs (as weighed at the butcher) of boned meat up and out of the cliffed-out canyons that I killed him in.
My father killed this bull on the last day of our hunt. Tracking this bull ended up being one of the wildest hunting experiences of our lives. My father fell on his rifle the previous day and a chip-shot turned in to a long day of tracking that involved a mother mountain lion and her two sub-adult kitties getting on the blood trail, actually walking up and sniffing my backpack and ultimately running this bull up every steep slope they could find. Amazingly, they pushed the bull back to within a half mile of our camp where we were able to end the chase. They got into the carcass that night and were growling and screaming at us the next morning as we quartered him. The most incredible blood trail I have ever followed.
Here's to a prosperous 2015,
Cody
Here are a couple of photos from my recent elk hunt in New Mexico with my father. For the first time in many years none of my hunting brothers (Bmack or Casey) were available to join me on a hunt. Not only did that mean that I had to corral my old man without any help in some tough country, it also meant that I had less muscle to help pack meat out of hell holes. I shot this bull on the second afternoon of our hunt. Thanks to his mass, I completely under-judged his size when I first located him and then shot him. I knew I'd shot a good bull, but was floored when I actually walked up to him. It took us 2 days to pack the 275lbs (as weighed at the butcher) of boned meat up and out of the cliffed-out canyons that I killed him in.
My father killed this bull on the last day of our hunt. Tracking this bull ended up being one of the wildest hunting experiences of our lives. My father fell on his rifle the previous day and a chip-shot turned in to a long day of tracking that involved a mother mountain lion and her two sub-adult kitties getting on the blood trail, actually walking up and sniffing my backpack and ultimately running this bull up every steep slope they could find. Amazingly, they pushed the bull back to within a half mile of our camp where we were able to end the chase. They got into the carcass that night and were growling and screaming at us the next morning as we quartered him. The most incredible blood trail I have ever followed.
Here's to a prosperous 2015,
Cody
