I finally got comfortable with the state of things at work and was able to leave home a little after 2pm. The drive was easy, but as I approached my destination, the mountains were completely shrouded in clouds. The rain started as soon as I hit National Forest. Upon arriving at my camping location, I got suited up and the rain gear on, but hesitated. I thought to myself, "This is dumb, nothing is going to be moving in this steady rain." Then I'd talk myself up again .., "You came out here to hunt, go do it!"
Finally, I convinced myself to pack light and climb the nearby ridge - at least scout the route up for the morning. I had never truly hunted this location before, though I had drawn the route on my map 3 years ago. There's no trail here, its straight into the beetle killed timber deadfall uphill to a ridge gaining 700 or so feet, then you can follow the ridge to the mountain, then another 1000 ft to the top. Grabbing just the "essentials", I finally headed up the hill with the plan to scout to the mountain, but no farther.
It took me longer than anticipated to gain the ridge, and my lower half was already soaked (I intentionally wear quick dry rather than waterproof pants, but my boots are shot as far as waterproofness goes). I couldn't help thinking "Yep, I'm an idiot. Look at me getting all my gear wet the night before the big hunt." I looked around for a few minutes, then let out a couple of cow calls for the heck of it.
I didn't feel like an idiot when a bull immediately responded from the mountain. Kicking it into high gear, I quickly covered the ridge top and got to the base of the mountain. Calling again produced more responses, not in the same area, but much closer. The next twenty minutes was me giving a call or two, then moving at first 100 yards, then 20-30 yards as I closed the distance. There were at least four distinct bugles. The wind was variable from the SE to the SW, but the bulls were uphill to the South of me, so all was well there.
Finally, one bugle was distinctly closer than the rest, so I focused on him. Give a call, quietly sprint 20 yards to the next pine, and wait. I repeated this a few times until I got one angry, close bugle. Time to shut up and let him come find me.
I saw the bull slipping my way about 80 yards out, and quickly to 30 yards when I drew. All I knew was his brow tines were plenty long enough to be legal. He passed by me on the downhill and I had to turn my body and replant my feet. One twig cracked and he stopped and drilled me with his gaze. "Awww no, did I just blow it?". I had no shot. I wasn't settled in either, so I just held steady at full draw. Steadily enough, apparently, because after 20 seconds he took two steps and bugled.
Settle in, he's close, 20 yard pin. Slightly quartered to - tight to the shoulder. Extreme downhill, so a touch high thinking of the exit, but also very close, so a touch low ... center mass it is. THUMP. All I could see was the fletching sticking out. He burst downhill, so I let out a few cow calls and he stopped. I couldn't see him anymore, but 5 seconds later was a massive crash.
"Holy crap ... That just happened. Seriously? I haven't even been here for much more than an hour. That really just happened."
I hadn't noticed, but the rain had stopped at some point. Earlier in the year, I had said I didn't know if I could hunt elk in the rain, as they can go a long ways on a fatal shot and tracking is hard enough. I debated for about 2 minutes on what to do, but the light was fading and the forecast was precipitation for the forseeable future.
I could see tracks from where I was standing, so I put an arrow in the ground and moved down to where I had shot. Within a few feet I found 8 inches on my arrow broken off, with all but the fletchings covered in blood. Marking this on the gps, I moved down to the next track and then scanned with my binoculars. It only took repeating this 3 or 4 times before I saw the bull piled up against a tree.
It wasn't until I walked over that I first got a good look at him. I'm not even sure I can describe what I was feeling at the time. I don't know if I've ever really seen a bull this size while hunting, let alone taken one. I know he's not like a 300 class elk, but this is an OTC unit and I don't pass up any legal bull.
As anybody who's hunted elk knows, though, this was just the start of the adventure ...