MTGamecock
Well-known member
. . . And I wasn't even hunting for elk.
It was pretty warm this weekend, so for the third archery opener in a row, I decided not to venture into the backcountry to hunt elk and instead stayed close to town to hunt for deer in the creek bottoms. My plan was to take a couple of days off work next week and the next and spend consecutive 4-day weekends hunting elk a couple of hours from the house. I spent a good bit of the summer hiking in that area and hung a couple of game cameras in promising places. I re-packed the wheel-bearings on my camper and did some seasonal maintenance on it to get it ready. I've shot my bow nearly every day since early April. For the past month, I've been getting my gear together and stocking the camper. It was shaping up to be an epic elk season. I've taken three cows during rifle seasons since 2020, but this was finally going to be the year I got a bull.
But for this weekend, I'd stay close to home and see if I could get a deer to put some meat in the freezer. I only took up archery about 3 years ago, having killed two deer so far - a doe and a buck - so I thought the prospect and challenge of taking another deer with my bow, even a doe, prior to my elk hunting trips sounded beneficial. Besides, nobody wants to cut up and pack out an elk in 80-degree heat, right?
So, yesterday morning, I drove about six miles from the house to a little block management spot just a few hundred yards off the highway along a creek bottom. My son and I have hunted this spot a number of times during Montana's two-day youth hunt each year and have found it to be a pretty reliable spot for seeing deer. We've never seen trophy caliber deer down there, but it's a good spot for meat hunters with a pretty easy "drag-out" for a deer. The entire area is only a couple hundred acres and although it backs up to some public land, there are a number of houses in the the area, each with their own tracts of 20 - 100 acres or so. After 6 years of hunting this spot, we've never ever seen elk or any halfway recent sign of them.
I set up in the dark under a little clump of junipers on the edge of a clearing where I'd seen deer before. About 10 minutes before legal light, I heard a near-perfect bugle off to my right and downstream that I guessed to be maybe 600 yards away, most likely on an adjacent property. I thought to myself what kind of jabroni is trying to bugle in a bull on opening day around here?
Another 20 minutes passed with no more bugle attempts from the neighbor. Then, off to my right, I heard movement through the grass. Really close movement. And big.
The view to my immediate right was obscured by a couple of other juniper trees, but as I peeked left and right through the boughs, I could finally make out a couple of shapes moving through the nearly waist high grass and willows. My god, those are elk! After several attempts, I was able to nock an arrow in the low light of my juniper cave. Then, I sat and watched the animals slowly move among clumps of willows and scattered junipers, grazing in lush grass along the way. Two cows became four, four became eight, and eight became 16. The closest cows were now maybe 20 yards to my right with a heard of 20 - 25 or more stretched out behind them. Here and there, I spotted a couple of spike bulls. Then, like a lightning bolt in my brain, I remembered the jabroni next door and his bugle. That was a bull elk, you idiot! I pulled out my binoculars and scanned among the elk, hoping to see a legal bull among them, but could not will one into existence.
By this time, the lead cow was moving from my right to a position directly in front of me. I was going to lose my concealment in a matter of seconds with only about 20 yards separating us. I calculated that if I continued to glass the elk to my right, the lead cow was almost certainly going to spot my movement. If she spooked, she would almost certainly bolt, taking the entire herd - and my chance at an archery elk - with her. As much as I wanted to get a bull, I wasn't about to come away from this opportunity empty handed. So, I drew and held on the cow, hoping that she might continue walking on by, unaware of my presence. But that was not the case.
When she got directly in front of me, she turned her head and looked straight at me. Straight into my soul. This was the moment of truth. She didn't know yet that I was a threat, but I had her attention. From that moment, there was nothing I could do to make her lose interest in me. So, I let the arrow fly. I didn't see the arrow in flight, but everything felt good. I heard a distinct "fwap" of the arrow hitting its target. She spun around and reversed direction trotting and then walking back in the direction she'd come and then turned and walked away from me toward the creek.
The other elk immediately became agitated and made a 90 degree turn, moving toward my rear. My cow, however, stopped about 60 yards away and just stood there. OK, that's not normal - she's definitely hit. I alternated between watching her and catching glimpses of the herd moving up and away from me. That's when I saw the jabroni that bugled earlier step from behind some willows. And now he was bugling again as his harem was running away from him up to the high ground. I am not an experienced enough elk hunter to look at an elk rack 100 yards away and make any sort of educated estimate as to a score. But I'm telling you this was a nice freaking bull. Perhaps some of you have nicer bulls hanging on the walls of your homes, but this dude was an absolute wall-hanger for me. As he stood there belting out a long bugle followed by several chortles, with his breath visible in the frosty air, I watched him with a sense of awe - and, I'm not going to lie, a tinge of disappointment in missing an opportunity with this majestic animal.
Finally, the bull and the rest of the herd moved beyond my line of sight and into the hills behind me. I turned my attention fully on my cow. She was now walking slowly down to the creek and the thick vegetations surrounding it. Oh, no, this can't be good. Why hasn't she collapsed by now? I waited an agonizing 15 minutes that felt like hours. Then, I got up and went after her. I found a pretty good blood trail just a few yards from where she was standing when I shot her. That was a good sign. I saw bursts of bright red blood here and there, so felt confident that I had pierced a lung. Between the blood trail and the disturbed vegetation, it was pretty easy to follow her path down among the willows and brush of the creek. I nocked another arrow and proceeded slowly.
I'm a believer in prayer, although I admit that God hears from me disproportionately more often when I need something. This was one of those times. Lord, if this elk isn't already dead, please grant me another clean shot on her. I did not relish the prospect of a follow-up archery shot on an elk still strong enough to run. After about 25 feet of sneaking along, she walked out between two clumps of willows and stopped right there. Broadside. About 20 yards away. She never saw me. My prayer was answered. I think the clouds parted and the sun shone down on that elk as angels sang in the background. I let another arrow fly and watched it find its mark. The shot was perfect. I heard her tear through the thick vegetation along the creek and thrash around in the brush, but I knew she wasn't going far. I went back to get my pack and other gear.
She expired in the bottom of the creek with a steep bank on both sides. I knew the second I spotted her that I would need some help with this pack out. I was only a few hundred yards from the truck, but dealing with her in the creek at the bottom of that gully wasn't going to be easy. Fortunately, after a few quick phone calls, I found a hunting friend of mine about half my age who said he could meet me in about an hour to help me deal with her. After tagging her, that gave me enough time to run home and get my elk gear, including my frame pack and game bags. About 4 hours later, we had her quartered and packed out.
The postmortem revealed that my first shot did indeed pierce the lung and probably the liver, but instead of being broadside, she was quartered slightly toward me. So, while the arrow entered in a good spot, it left an exit wound that was distinctively a gut shot. I don't know if she was standing slightly quartered to me before the shot or if she turned slightly at the last minute. The later would be consistent with her spin and the direction she moved after the shot. The 2nd shot was a perfect pass-through of the vitals.
In conclusion, my elk season - at least to the extent it is represented by my punched elk tag - was over a little after sunrise on opening day. On the one hand, it was a completely unexpected stroke of luck to get my first archery elk while deer hunting. On the other hand, there is a vein of disappointment. All the planning, all the prepping, all the work, all the effort, and all the anticipation I put into my upcoming hunting trips vaporized the second my arrow hit that cow. And my first bull will have to wait for at least another year.
Make no mistake, I'm satisfied overall. Maybe someday I will have enough experience as an elk hunter to have the patience to pass on a cow in order to have a chance at a bull elk, but I'm not at that point yet. I became addicted to archery about 3 years ago and shot a doe on my first archery hunt. Last year, I shot my first buck and this year I harvested this cow elk. Maybe next year I can step up to my first bull.
It was pretty warm this weekend, so for the third archery opener in a row, I decided not to venture into the backcountry to hunt elk and instead stayed close to town to hunt for deer in the creek bottoms. My plan was to take a couple of days off work next week and the next and spend consecutive 4-day weekends hunting elk a couple of hours from the house. I spent a good bit of the summer hiking in that area and hung a couple of game cameras in promising places. I re-packed the wheel-bearings on my camper and did some seasonal maintenance on it to get it ready. I've shot my bow nearly every day since early April. For the past month, I've been getting my gear together and stocking the camper. It was shaping up to be an epic elk season. I've taken three cows during rifle seasons since 2020, but this was finally going to be the year I got a bull.
But for this weekend, I'd stay close to home and see if I could get a deer to put some meat in the freezer. I only took up archery about 3 years ago, having killed two deer so far - a doe and a buck - so I thought the prospect and challenge of taking another deer with my bow, even a doe, prior to my elk hunting trips sounded beneficial. Besides, nobody wants to cut up and pack out an elk in 80-degree heat, right?
So, yesterday morning, I drove about six miles from the house to a little block management spot just a few hundred yards off the highway along a creek bottom. My son and I have hunted this spot a number of times during Montana's two-day youth hunt each year and have found it to be a pretty reliable spot for seeing deer. We've never seen trophy caliber deer down there, but it's a good spot for meat hunters with a pretty easy "drag-out" for a deer. The entire area is only a couple hundred acres and although it backs up to some public land, there are a number of houses in the the area, each with their own tracts of 20 - 100 acres or so. After 6 years of hunting this spot, we've never ever seen elk or any halfway recent sign of them.
I set up in the dark under a little clump of junipers on the edge of a clearing where I'd seen deer before. About 10 minutes before legal light, I heard a near-perfect bugle off to my right and downstream that I guessed to be maybe 600 yards away, most likely on an adjacent property. I thought to myself what kind of jabroni is trying to bugle in a bull on opening day around here?
Another 20 minutes passed with no more bugle attempts from the neighbor. Then, off to my right, I heard movement through the grass. Really close movement. And big.The view to my immediate right was obscured by a couple of other juniper trees, but as I peeked left and right through the boughs, I could finally make out a couple of shapes moving through the nearly waist high grass and willows. My god, those are elk! After several attempts, I was able to nock an arrow in the low light of my juniper cave. Then, I sat and watched the animals slowly move among clumps of willows and scattered junipers, grazing in lush grass along the way. Two cows became four, four became eight, and eight became 16. The closest cows were now maybe 20 yards to my right with a heard of 20 - 25 or more stretched out behind them. Here and there, I spotted a couple of spike bulls. Then, like a lightning bolt in my brain, I remembered the jabroni next door and his bugle. That was a bull elk, you idiot! I pulled out my binoculars and scanned among the elk, hoping to see a legal bull among them, but could not will one into existence.
By this time, the lead cow was moving from my right to a position directly in front of me. I was going to lose my concealment in a matter of seconds with only about 20 yards separating us. I calculated that if I continued to glass the elk to my right, the lead cow was almost certainly going to spot my movement. If she spooked, she would almost certainly bolt, taking the entire herd - and my chance at an archery elk - with her. As much as I wanted to get a bull, I wasn't about to come away from this opportunity empty handed. So, I drew and held on the cow, hoping that she might continue walking on by, unaware of my presence. But that was not the case.
When she got directly in front of me, she turned her head and looked straight at me. Straight into my soul. This was the moment of truth. She didn't know yet that I was a threat, but I had her attention. From that moment, there was nothing I could do to make her lose interest in me. So, I let the arrow fly. I didn't see the arrow in flight, but everything felt good. I heard a distinct "fwap" of the arrow hitting its target. She spun around and reversed direction trotting and then walking back in the direction she'd come and then turned and walked away from me toward the creek.
The other elk immediately became agitated and made a 90 degree turn, moving toward my rear. My cow, however, stopped about 60 yards away and just stood there. OK, that's not normal - she's definitely hit. I alternated between watching her and catching glimpses of the herd moving up and away from me. That's when I saw the jabroni that bugled earlier step from behind some willows. And now he was bugling again as his harem was running away from him up to the high ground. I am not an experienced enough elk hunter to look at an elk rack 100 yards away and make any sort of educated estimate as to a score. But I'm telling you this was a nice freaking bull. Perhaps some of you have nicer bulls hanging on the walls of your homes, but this dude was an absolute wall-hanger for me. As he stood there belting out a long bugle followed by several chortles, with his breath visible in the frosty air, I watched him with a sense of awe - and, I'm not going to lie, a tinge of disappointment in missing an opportunity with this majestic animal.
Finally, the bull and the rest of the herd moved beyond my line of sight and into the hills behind me. I turned my attention fully on my cow. She was now walking slowly down to the creek and the thick vegetations surrounding it. Oh, no, this can't be good. Why hasn't she collapsed by now? I waited an agonizing 15 minutes that felt like hours. Then, I got up and went after her. I found a pretty good blood trail just a few yards from where she was standing when I shot her. That was a good sign. I saw bursts of bright red blood here and there, so felt confident that I had pierced a lung. Between the blood trail and the disturbed vegetation, it was pretty easy to follow her path down among the willows and brush of the creek. I nocked another arrow and proceeded slowly.
I'm a believer in prayer, although I admit that God hears from me disproportionately more often when I need something. This was one of those times. Lord, if this elk isn't already dead, please grant me another clean shot on her. I did not relish the prospect of a follow-up archery shot on an elk still strong enough to run. After about 25 feet of sneaking along, she walked out between two clumps of willows and stopped right there. Broadside. About 20 yards away. She never saw me. My prayer was answered. I think the clouds parted and the sun shone down on that elk as angels sang in the background. I let another arrow fly and watched it find its mark. The shot was perfect. I heard her tear through the thick vegetation along the creek and thrash around in the brush, but I knew she wasn't going far. I went back to get my pack and other gear.
She expired in the bottom of the creek with a steep bank on both sides. I knew the second I spotted her that I would need some help with this pack out. I was only a few hundred yards from the truck, but dealing with her in the creek at the bottom of that gully wasn't going to be easy. Fortunately, after a few quick phone calls, I found a hunting friend of mine about half my age who said he could meet me in about an hour to help me deal with her. After tagging her, that gave me enough time to run home and get my elk gear, including my frame pack and game bags. About 4 hours later, we had her quartered and packed out.
The postmortem revealed that my first shot did indeed pierce the lung and probably the liver, but instead of being broadside, she was quartered slightly toward me. So, while the arrow entered in a good spot, it left an exit wound that was distinctively a gut shot. I don't know if she was standing slightly quartered to me before the shot or if she turned slightly at the last minute. The later would be consistent with her spin and the direction she moved after the shot. The 2nd shot was a perfect pass-through of the vitals.
In conclusion, my elk season - at least to the extent it is represented by my punched elk tag - was over a little after sunrise on opening day. On the one hand, it was a completely unexpected stroke of luck to get my first archery elk while deer hunting. On the other hand, there is a vein of disappointment. All the planning, all the prepping, all the work, all the effort, and all the anticipation I put into my upcoming hunting trips vaporized the second my arrow hit that cow. And my first bull will have to wait for at least another year.
Make no mistake, I'm satisfied overall. Maybe someday I will have enough experience as an elk hunter to have the patience to pass on a cow in order to have a chance at a bull elk, but I'm not at that point yet. I became addicted to archery about 3 years ago and shot a doe on my first archery hunt. Last year, I shot my first buck and this year I harvested this cow elk. Maybe next year I can step up to my first bull.
