I was fortunate enough to punch my 2015 elk tag the other morning on this great bull. Overall it was a pretty great season as I heard bulls every day I was out and saw 9 different bulls; this one was just the first that gave me a shot. I heard him bugling cross canyon from me, got the wind right and dropped down into the hole through some old growth after him. I spent about 15 minutes with him bugling 150 yards away before he decided to come in and give me a 25 yard shot. My arrow deflected and hit a little farther back than I wanted, but I got lucky and he was down within sight. He then did me the favor of rolling down the hill into a root ball pit from a fallen tree and onto another rotten log which made quartering him and getting him ready to go a bit more of a challenge than normal. I had a sliver of cell service and was able to get a GPS point sent to a friend who showed up after a couple hours to help with packing. Overall he was only half a mile from a road, but it was typical north Idaho steep, brushy and covered in downed logs. After 5 hours of packing the last load was to the truck. Maybe hunting elk in these nasty jungles agrees with me?