Vanish and FireTiger's 2020 Journal

This was Saturday of labor day weekend and as I had been spending all day in the elk woods, I had no idea how busy things were around base camp. I tried to take a creek bath and had seven people stumble into my little hole in the willows! It was a bit silly. Dad had been spending a few hours each day fishing and had been doing pretty well (30+ fish days) despite the creeks being very low. He must have been hitting the water just before everyone else. :D In the evenings, he'd hike up to some meadows just above camp and watch the deer play, with a couple bears, too.

I decided to return to the general area I had been hunting the previous couple of days, but once again new territory nearby rather than ground I had already hunted. There was a particular drainage that looked quite appealing on the map, and I had heard bugles that way the morning before ( the "unreachable" area ). It looked gross to hike in to on the topo, but I was getting used to those kinds of climbs. Not sure what it will be like to pack something down that steep but I'll deal with it when it happens. ( Yay trekking poles?! )

Right before I left, Dad told me we'd have to leave on Tuesday, as he would run out of one of his medications. To be honest, I was a bit annoyed. As I mentioned, I had packed for 15 days. I had discussed with my Dad before I even agreed to pick him up how long I intended to be ready for, so this was a bit of a shock. I'd only get 6 days hunting before having to pull out. This was a reason I was planning to go solo in the first place. I knew I'd be able to go back, however, so I tried not to let it get to me and put it down as an oversight.

I left base camp around 2pm after lunch with Dad; self cleaned, dishes cleaned, laundry done. The hike in was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be, though it was dang hot. I met up with my first elk before 3pm. A small bull and two cows were chilling under a couple of the few dark pines left on the hill. I don't know if you noticed, but like 80% of all tree mass up there is dead. This makes even the north sides pretty open, and if you can find a group of pines that are alive, there is always an elk bed under them.

Easing further up the hill, I ran into more bedded elk. I decided this was pushing my luck, so looked at the satellite and picked an area to chill out in that might be an exit from the bedding area. Indeed, as the afternoon wore on, I heard the same growling bugle I had heard from across the ravine the morning before. Something told me this was a big bull. Over the course of time, I just kept thinking of the T-Rex from the movie Jurassic Park when I would hear this bugle, and thus the elk became known as "The Dinosaur." Its totally cheesy and naming animals is something I don't usually do, but I couldn't get it out of my head!

As afternoon turned to evening, the bugles picked up. It seemed as if the elk were on the move, but not toward my trail. I decided to close the distance. The Dinosaur wasn't far, within 400 yards, and I had a feeling he was far from alone, so I stayed stealthy. The trail became more and more obvious as I approached where the elk had been bedded. This photo by far does not do it justice, but I was pretty sure I hit the National Park Campground of elk bedding areas. Trails so clear of debris you could run a wheelchair through them. Giant beds under every tree. A waterhole that looked like a group campfire ring. It was amazing. Definitely dropped a pin on this place!

uc


The problem was this is where the elk had been and no longer where they were. The Dinosaur was uphill from me at least 200 vertical feet. It was closing in on 7pm, so there was only about an hour of light left. I tried some calling just to confirm.

uc


This calf was one of many I called in that week. I appear to be really good at cow calling calves. Anybody have thoughts on why that might be?

A few bugles rang out below me. It certainly wasn't the same bull, but this one was headed uphill, toward me. I repositioned a bit and shortly had yet another calf come by, this one with mom in tow. I held put, as so many of the cows I'd seen had a bull following, and sure enough, he stepped out at 24 yards. (Video screencap = low quality, sorry)

uc


It was a small raghorn, not what I am looking for. Ah darn, but I kind of figured that would be the case. As it was now past 720pm, climbing up after the dinosaur seemed like a dangerous idea, as I already had 1200ft to drop. Going down that hillside in the pitch dark would be something I wanted to reserve for a special occasion.
 
Sunday was one of those days where you wish you could wire a camera into your brain. The action was too close and too intense to bring out the phone.

Shortly after leaving the truck I heard bugling. This was by far the lowest I had heard it so far, and it sounded like The Dinosaur. I identified the meadow they were most likely hanging out in and headed that direction, guided by bugles every 30 seconds. I missed them by seconds, as just as I arrived I saw elk disappear into the timber above me.

I looped back around and headed uphill. I hit the first high meadow section and could tell they had slowed down. Working my way through the trees, I caught sight of a cow. I crept up the hill, making sure she didn't spot me, until I saw another elk. There were elk within 30 yards of me, so I held still. Over time, at least half a dozen elk milled around right in front of me. I thought I caught the sight of antlers through the branches. The Dinosaur bugled up ahead. The closest cow decided it was a nice space and bedded, facing right at me. Ugh. The ground I was standing on wasn't the flattest, so I wasn't exactly comfortable. This went on and on. The antlers I saw eventually appeared right above me, behind the rear of a cow. They came as close as 12 yards. The bull was a busted up raghorn, missing his left beam above his brow tines.

It was half past seven when this all started. The thermals had been steadily pulling downhill but under the morning sun they started to waver around half past eight. This group of elk started to become suspicious, and eventually had enough, trotting up and away. The Dinosaur had since stopped bugling. I had a good idea where he, and his presumed herd, were hanging out, but with the fickle breezes decided it was not a play I wanted to make.

It being already fairly warm, and wanting to hunt a place where it seemed like the thermals and day wind might play together, I decided to make the hike all the way over to the waterhole I had sat a couple days prior. Just prior to my arrival, I was distracted by a calf playing nearby. I turned back to the trail and there were elk all over where I was planning on sitting, and they knew I was coming, all staring at me. Oops. I didn't see any bulls in the stampede, but who knows.

uc


An hour or so later, a cow appeared out of nowhere as they seem to do. She drank and played in that waterhole for at least 20 minutes. After a few hours, I got restless and decided to still hunt some bedding areas. It had worked earlier in the week. The wind had been stable at the waterhole, but I swear it decided to start swirling shortly after. I couldn't seem to get near the elk without tipping them off. I had a couple small bulls trot through but otherwise it ended up being a waste of energy.

As evening approached, I started finding elk again. I called in more calves. :D About 530pm, I was nearing the big meadow where I'd had the encounter with the big bull a couple nights prior. In the same area I had been standing when I first spotted the elk the other night were three bulls just chillin' on the shaded edge, including one quite good six. I was about 300 yards away with a steady wind in my face. Another bull was coming out to join them. Just down the hill from the meadow, The Dinosaur let rip. The wind did a 180 and all the bulls left the meadow. Come on! At least the Dinosaur was still bugling, but that wind was just being a jerk.

I decided the thermals should be switching again soon, so looped beneath the suspected herd. They were on the move now, based on the bugling. At times I could hear cow calls, so I knew I was close. Wouldn't you know it, it seemed like they were moving right back where I had been in the morning, and towards that bedding area where they had been the day before. I picked up the pace until I bumped a couple of cows, then slowed back down again.

At this point, there was a good bench above me. I was just down from it where something on top could not see me. I had good elk trails to follow, but it was darn steep. I could hear elk walking above. The hillside started to curve in and flatten slightly, so I paused to listen for the next bugle. After standing for a moment, I realized there was a bull right in front of me. Less than 30 yards away fed a respectable, heavy six point. Between us stood a cluster of trees, so even if I wanted to shoot I could not. I took a breath, knocked an arrow, and attempted to adjust my feet for a shot later. The bull had no clue of my presence.

He fed a bit closer, casually bugling once in awhile, and turned uphill slightly. It wasn't the Dinosaur (whom I still hadn't seen) but yeah I was going to shoot for sure. He was only moving one slow step at a time. Analyzing his trajectory, I saw a gap in the trees where he would most likely pass broadside at about 15 yards. There was a sooner place where I may have been able to kneel and shoot, but I told myself to be patient, there was no rush. Honestly, I think I was mentally notching my tag. The bull needed two more steps to expose the vitals. His head would be behind a great big cedar. It was perfect.

Of course, that's not what happened. It was at that step I had waited for where the bull changed it up. He stopped feeding and started walking. I still hadn't drawn, intending to do so when his head was behind the cedar. Instead, he quickly passed behind that cedar and turned to walk across, instead of up the hill. This put him almost face on to me with not a thing between us. He closed to seven yards, moving from in front to my right. This is an awkward position for a right handed shooter. His head went behind a different big tree and I drew. This did not work. He jumped up the hill at the movement, onto the bench above. I could still see his antlers but not his body. I really kick myself here as I'd had a pound of patience and just needed an ounce more. There really wasn't anywhere for him to go. All I'd had to do was let him go back to feeding. Then I could most likely have turned, drawn and shot.

Instead, he was now on edge. There were other elk calling and he started to relax. He began to feed above me, based on the position of his antlers, so I decided to ease up the hill. Just below the top, I drew back. With one more step he would be exposed. The same instant I took that step, he took a step down the other side of the knob, and his vitals were covered by deadfall. Kidding me, right? This again happened a few minutes later. He finally had worked around back to where I had come in from, and something made him nervous, so he turned and slowly walked away.

Well, that was a bummer. However, it was 645pm and the Dinosaur was still going nuts a couple hundred feet uphill. This time I was going to opt for the hike in the dark...
 
Uphill I raced. Turns out I was out of water, so it could have been more fun. I circled to keep the wind in my favor as I climber the steep slope. I stayed on the back side of the ridge until it sounded like I was parallel or even ahead of his bugles. When I felt like I was in position, I found an elk trail and dropped over towards the meadow. Before I had made it a few steps down I started seeing elk. There was a small bull, and then another, off to my left. In front of me were several cows.

Finally, the Dinosaur revealed himself, and he was everything you dream that herd bull to be. Tall tined, long beamed, wide and pissed off. I was moving toward the edge of the meadow at a snail's pace; essentially shuffling 3 inches at a time. The scene was one from television. The herd bull had 30-40 cows balled up on the low side of the meadow, while five satellite bulls sparred, fed and watched with jealousy from the upper end. When one cow would get a little too far out of line, the Dinosaur would bugle ferociously and then run over, hooking her back to the others. If a satellite looked too long, or got a little too close, he would charge over and remind the smaller bull who was boss. I say smaller bull, but two of the satellites were quite large antlered, including one nearly as big as the herd bull himself.

To me, this is a thing of tv, books and magazines. There are few cows where I am usually hunting in early September. When you find a bull, he's usually alone or with a couple other bulls. If you do find a herd, its like 7-10 animals, not 50. This was the first time I found myself in a true elk rut herd situation. It seemed to me, that my best chance was to keep quiet, sneak to the edge of the meadow and hope the Dinosaur chased a cow in front of me.

The elk were all very slowly working towards the upper end of the meadow. I made it to an intercept position, but with so many eyes I had to stay in the cover a bit. I managed to sneak one photo when there was a bit of a blowup as the Dinosaur chased the largest satellite the complete wrong direction from me. Of course you can only see the two smallest bulls. :D

uc


It was a great show. There is a part of me that is glad I botched the opportunity earlier in the evening just so I could watch this unfold. Several times my plan worked, just too far. The herd averaged about 95 yards out from me, and the Dinosaur got as close as 72 yards. The two big satellites were about the same. It almost seemed like they knew they needed to be far enough out in the meadow to not be vulnerable. I had heard some calls in the timber, both cow and bull. The elk would respond, but they would never go investigate, so I decided to just keep quiet and watch rather than try something desperate.

Unfortunately, the light faded and so did that opportunity. I was able to back out without alerting the elk. The hike down in the dark was not as bad as I was worried it might be. I'd now traversed the lower side of that hill 3 times and had a good idea of where to trend towards and where to avoid. I made it all the way to road without issue. Upon stepping into the road, despite having one trekking pole in use, I must have hit one of the small rocks kicked to the side by the traffic and went flying ass over tea kettle. My bow launched out of my hands and rattled down the road. After a couple breaths I decided I was not injured. I'd have to check my bow the next day.
 
Day six started off on the right foot. I was up early and made it all the way to the meadow from the night before earlier than ever. I had a good feeling the elk had not moved far from where I had left them. I figured I should set up on the downhill side of the meadow with the hope the herd would move back through where they had been the evening before. Right as I got into position I noticed a bull feeding about 100 yards ahead. This got me all excited, and I decided I wanted to be mobile so I eased off my pack. I heard the Dinosaur bugle right where I had left them. I don't know if it was me putting me pack down or the herd signaling it was time to move, but the bull in front of me went from calmly feeding to lifting his head, turning around and straight up left.

The herd did not work back through this drainage. Instead, they headed over the ridge, but still seemed like they were heading toward the campground bedding area. I followed them until I was about 200 to 250 yards from them. I know this because there was a big ridge at 350 yards, and they were below and closer than said ridge. It sounded as if perhaps the Dinosaur was being challenged as there was a solid back and forth going on with at least one bull bugling every 30 seconds.

I think I made a mistake at this point. I was so confident they would come into the bedding area that I did not push into aggressively into the elk. While waiting, I had two guys ( one hunter ) walk right up behind me. We got to talking, as they recognized I was on the elk first and we figured out these were the same guys I had run into in a totally different area on opening day; the only people I had actually seen hunting on the whole trip. They asked if they could circle around and try to get into them from the opposite ridge and I gave the OK.

I'm not sure what happened but the elk never came into the bedding area. I know nobody shot the Dinosaur as I heard him bugling closer but downhill from me. I waited all dang day ( called in a couple cows at 500pm ) and at 530pm I finally heard him and a couple others again, downhill. I thought they were coming up, so got in position. About this time, I got a message on my InReach from FireTiger that a severe snow storm was on its way and I should consider leaving as soon as possible, perhaps skipping the evening hunt ( HAH, I'm at 12,000 feet already! ). I had heard from Dad that others had mentioned an incoming storm. Considering the elk seemed to be downhill, I ran a quick loop of some of the high meadows and then dropped down after them. I figured either I would get into the elk, or I would ditch out a little early. Ended up being the latter as I totally lost them.

I got back to camp prepared to argue with Dad about leaving now versus waiting until the morning. I was concerned that if we got anywhere near the amount of snow projected that we'd be stuck up there for several more days. Yes, I have chains, but hell if I wanted to use them on that road. I was surprised to find him on board regardless of the projected 2am arrival at his house. We had camped packed up just a few moments after the light failed. The drive back was extremely uneventful as there was never a person in our lane during the entire 5 hour drive.
 
Yup, broke my quiver during the fall. A couple of the plastic pegs sheared off. Two screws good as new.

I also scraped off about a one inch square chunk of the coating on one limb corner. I hope its just cosmetic damage. My old 90s bow will be in the truck as a backup on the next trip.

The sight was knocked slightly askew but it reset upon touching it. Some shooting yesterday confirms it is still accurate.

uc
 
Alright, finally getting to the difficult part. This post is only related to the rest of the hunt and contains no bugling bulls, merely providing context. This would be my Fresh Tracks Season 2 moment.

After a short sleep at my parents on Tuesday night, I made the four hour drive home. The storm was just getting underway and I was mostly ahead of it, thankfully. The temperature was dropping quickly as I was driving. The wind was rough. My old truck gets awfully loud in the wrong wind directions.

Tuesday finished out with cleaning up my gear and doing the repairs as I mentioned, with some welcome home time. I hadn't been expected home for another week, so FireTiger was excited to see me and hear the stories over takeout pizza.

Wednesday morning was spent continuing to clean and re-pack, as well as texting all my buddies about our hunts. It seemed everyone was having a good start to the season, and one bull had been taken. I was in the middle of a conversation with @Lostinthewoods when I received one of those messages that you never want to get.

The story goes back almost 5 years, but the important part is we learned FireTiger was pregnant back in May. We had been prepping for this for a long time, and its why she missed both her elk hunts last year, and why she hadn't put in for any mountain hunts this year. Anyway, this day she'd had a routine checkup and the doctor informed us of the terrible news that our baby girl was no longer showing a heartbeat. We were pretty far along, so this wouldn't be simple. The next 36 hours were a bit of a blur. I'm not going to give a lot of details but it was difficult for us both, and its hard to imagine how much worse for FireTiger. Considering everything we had done to this point, the statistics of this happening were far worse than drawing a non-resident desert sheep tag.

I'd hard to say luckily, but there have been no complications for FireTiger. The medical staff was excellent and the people in our lives have been incredibly supportive.

Edit: I can't imagine how this would have gone if I hadn't decided to splurge on the InReach. I would possibly still be on the mountain and this would have all happened without me.
 
Man, really sorry to hear. I'm sure your whole hunttalk "family" will keep you in our thoughts and prayers. I know I always enjoy following along with your adventures. Wishing you and FireTiger well in this really tough time.
 
So sorry for both of you. That has to be a real kick in the gut. Hope you both are OK, and don't forget you can vent here! We've got your back.
 
Alright, finally getting to the difficult part. This post is only related to the rest of the hunt and contains no bugling bulls, merely providing context. This would be my Fresh Tracks Season 2 moment.

After a short sleep at my parents on Tuesday night, I made the four hour drive home. The storm was just getting underway and I was mostly ahead of it, thankfully. The temperature was dropping quickly as I was driving. The wind was rough. My old truck gets awfully loud in the wrong wind directions.

Tuesday finished out with cleaning up my gear and doing the repairs as I mentioned, with some welcome home time. I hadn't been expected home for another week, so FireTiger was excited to see me and hear the stories over takeout pizza.

Wednesday morning was spent continuing to clean and re-pack, as well as texting all my buddies about our hunts. It seemed everyone was having a good start to the season, and one bull had been taken. I was in the middle of a conversation with @Lostinthewoods when I received one of those messages that you never want to get.

The story goes back almost 5 years, but the important part is we learned FireTiger was pregnant back in May. We had been prepping for this for a long time, and its why she missed both her elk hunts last year, and why she hadn't put in for any mountain hunts this year. Anyway, this day she'd had a routine checkup and the doctor informed us of the terrible news that our baby girl was no longer showing a heartbeat. We were pretty far along, so this wouldn't be simple. The next 36 hours were a bit of a blur. I'm not going to give a lot of details but it was difficult for us both, and its hard to imagine how much worse for FireTiger. Considering everything we had done to this point, the statistics of this happening were far worse than drawing a non-resident desert sheep tag.

I'd hard to say luckily, but there have been no complications for FireTiger. The medical staff was excellent and the people in our lives have been incredibly supportive.

Edit: I can't imagine how this would have gone if I hadn't decided to splurge on the InReach. I would possibly still be on the mountain and this would have all happened without me.

I'm so sorry for you both. I have some friends who've undergone similar circumstances. I'll be praying for you guys.
 
Really sorry @vanish. That must be gut wrenching, especially for firetiger. Keeping you guys in our prayers.
 
It's never easy! My wife experienced the loss before or daughter was born, then once again before the birth of our son. Both my wife and I went through this but I consider myself secondary as it was really, really hard on my wife. Hold your wife close, be there for her as life has a way of turning out in the end. Your family is in our thoughts and prayers!
 
Gastro Gnome - Eat Better Wherever

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