With the final full day of our hunt dawning we decided to cover some ground closer to the ranch.This allowed us to lollygag around the ranch after breakfast since we didn’t have to ride more than 30 minutes to our lookout spot.
As daylight spread across the landscape, we worked our way along the ridges and fingers looking for elk. on our third ridge Brendan hissed “ELK”, and pointed at a tan blotch a half mile away. One ridge closer we determined it was a bull with a cow feeding near by.
We worked our way closer and tied the horses in a patch of trees.It was over 400 yards from there. The last piece of cover was an old knarled pine tree that we worked our way down to. The feeding bull was 344 yards away so I settled in to make the shot. My pack was too low to use as a rest on the steep hillside, so I put my elbows on my knees and tried to get my breathing under control.
My first shot missed. My second shot hit but he was still moving. My third shot knocked him down. He fell just inside the trees, but didn’t look quite right. After a few insurance shots that missed the mark he got to his feet and staggered into the trees and disappeared.
I was heartsick. I grabbed the horses as Brendan ran down on foot. By the Time I got there the bull had left a bloodtrail. Brendan took up the trail as I stood ready to jump the wounded bull. We leapfrogged our way through deadfalls and timber for an hour and a half. The trail would switch direction frequentlyand peter out but we would usually pick up blood again on a down log. The blood trail got better, but continued to go UP the ridge. Not a good sign when following a wounded critter.
After .61 miles according to the GPS, we were coming to the edge of the trees, leading to a saddle on the edge of an open valley. I spotted the bull bedded in the sage looking back on his backtrail. One shot through the neck from 150 yards put him down for good.
Upon inspection I found my first shot hit the leg high above the knee, which made the blood trail we had followed. The third shot hit behind the shoulderblade and passed between the ribcage and shoulder and settled in the brisket. It generated enough shock though to knock the bull off his feet.
The bull was a young 4×5 . After pictures I gutted him while Brendan went back for pack horses. Brendan and Mike the guide quartered him with an axe and loaded the pack horses. back at the barn, I jotted down the 11 mile round trip, and tallied my mileage for the past five days. I had covered over 90 miles on horseback and on foot.
We made it back to the ranch in time to meet up with Colby and Gene who had run on to a grizzly that morning after hearing our shots. At that point Colby had enough excitement for one day and he accompanied Gene in another direction to hunt the evening where Mike had killed his bull. They had no elk sighted, but brought back a number of shed antlers they had collected throughout the week.
We cleaned up our meat and skulls for the trip home and the next morning after getting some group pictures, we began our 1000 mile journey back to our careers and families.
