I give it another half an hour, then decide to scout out a nearby clearing. Sure enough, that calf is standing on a trail on the edge of the clearing, but it spots me at the same time as I spot it and hauls butt out of there. I glass the surrounding country, but just some muley does. After regrouping with my Dad, he says he likes where he is sitting and I tell him I am going to still hunt the next ridge to the north.
I backtrack a bit to get the wind in the best position and push over to the next ridge. Immediately, I can hear cow calls. Hmmm, hunters, or elk? Some of them sound pretty sweet, but I can hear what sounds like a hoochie in there, as well. I got fooled once last year, when I swore it was a couple of hunters just squeezing the crud out of their hoochies and it turned out to be 3 calves with their moms.
I figured it couldn't hurt to call to them. It seemed like they shut up immediately after my second set of calls, so, right or wrong, I wrote them off as hunters. Still, I couldn't help but feel like calling. I moved west along the ridge and set up again. Almost immediately, a cow elk started moving in on me. Naturally, it came it an angle I hadn't anticipated. Instead of coming from the thicker cover to the west and down, it came in from the other side of the ridgeline. I still had a shot once she cleared a blowdown at 24 yards.
It was not to be, however, because as soon as she hit that blowdown she pulled a gentle 180 and left just as quickly as she had come. She never stopped, never changed pace. Well, at least there's elk around!
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