I slept hard and the 4:30AM warmth of my bedding made me wonder if perhaps I was slightly delusional, expecting that bunch of elk to still be 1 mile away about where I had left them. Maybe I could sleep in a little, bide my time so to speak. I lay there a couple minutes and knew if I gave in to this thinking I could never raz another hunter about being lazy. So I sat up and put my feet on the floor,  that universal symbol for getting shit done.

Dawn found me glad I was in the woods early. If nothing else, the view was worth it.

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I hunted into daylight to be on the edge of the thick timber that I hoped still held Blackleg and his gang. These little spots of meadow cupped the bottom of the wet timber and are great places to hunt. The only trouble is the wind, it saws back and forth, up and down. I have never been able to count on consistent thermals here except during the middle of the day. I did not know yet if this was just a goose chase, but hunted like it mattered. You just never know. I had been thwarted many a time in my elk quests by lapses in focus and this day, no way.

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Just as I walked into the photo above I heard Blackleg throw out a tending bugle just upslope from this spot. Game on!!

This is the pocket of timber the elk were in. I had been in there before. It was not a big area, maybe 100 yards wide and 800 long.
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It says a lot about my confidence as a caller at this point in my life that I feared using calls to draw out this bull. It was a perfect situation to call: 1) I knew exactly where he/they were, 2) no other hunters about that I could tell, 3) there were some good spots to call from just inside the thick pocket of timber.
But I didn't dare. Even though I was confident enough in my skill as a hunter to "back out" I had called at bulls before and every time watched them run the other way so fast it was depressing. Not what you would call a confidence building history.
I did know, from hard experience, that going after Blackleg in that nest of deadfall, tight spaced timber, soggy ground and dead dry limbs everywhere was not a smart option. How many times, as a new elk hunter, all enthusiasm and strong legs, had I "snuck" up on elk in such timber? A bunch. And every time, I congratulated myself on my woodsmanship and stealth for getting so close. Yet as I approached the bow range I needed in that timber, as I saw my distance to them shrink, they always saw me too. Every time. You can get close. Very close. But they will see you too, just when it counts.



I could hear the bull soft call to his cows into late morning. I played the wind, moving as soon as it began to shift my scent stream toward the elk. This went on for most of the day and I began to fear that my game was a self-defeating one. Sooner or later they were going to wind me. The black legged bull had also gone silent. Maybe they had bedded in there. I circled above the pocket and tried to determine if while I was below or aside them they had left the area. In the end, I pulled out and sat away from any chance they might get my wind. I went back to camp empty.

The next morning I was back at it, not at all sure the elk would be there in such a small area. They had to move on sooner than later. 12 or so elk can't/won't feed in such a small space forever. Dawn came and I heard no bugle. Just when I was thinking of hunting through the mess of wet timber Blackleg bugled a tending call. I was so relieved and this time decided to be less timid. I crossed below them here:
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The thermal was straight downslope this early. I crossed to the N and using an open dry timber hogback, betted that my scent stream would stay narrow and off to this side of the pocket holding the black legged bull. My plan was to get above them. I circled closer to the edge of the pocket until about 30 yards outside its edge. I waited. I may have wandered around a little time to time, never going far. When I did move it was into the open timber. I may have tried entering the snarl, but it was immediately evident that was a stupid idea.
This is what the open timber was like:
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AWESOME STORY!!

And this-  "So I sat up and put my feet on the floor,  that universal symbol for getting shit done." 

This is fact!

Great pics to go with the narration!

    Great story, keep it coming just what I needed on this drizzly morning.

As the morning clocked away I knew I couldn't stay where I was for much longer. I heard some crackings inside the pocket. Nearer? The bull bugled a round up call and I knew they were now "on the move". This was different. My chance, if I ever had one, was literally leaving.
The bull bugled again and it was plain the elk were coming my way, edging the pocket to take advantage of the easier going. It was no picnic walking up the middle of the snarl. I moved ahead toward the edge of the pocket, knowing my shot distance had to max out with about 10 yards inside the edge, not someplace short of it. The elk would be in that transition line from thick timber to open timber. I was looking into something like this, less the wallow:
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I began to see cow elk, a patch of tan here, a movement there. I set my legs and knocked an arrow. My god it was finally going to happen?
Then I saw the bull. My palms were sweating so bad I repeatedly wiped them on my pant leg but the wool wasn't much help.  The bull was now just below me and moving up along the edge of the dense timber. The wind was just beginning to clock toward the elk and I knew it was going to have to be soon or they would surely get my wind now. On he came and I did not count points. I knew he was a six-by and my heart rate was already trying to run redline even as I told myself: breath in breath out relax relax relax relax. The bull was coming and then he was broadside. He had to pause to find clearance for his antlers, his head behind timber. I raised ElkMaster, focused on the crease so neat and so perfect and I remember the undulations of his muscles under the tan blonde hair. It was 20 yards maybe and as I expanded into the shot half my mind was saying over and over: finally finally finally.
The arrow was away. The bull must have seen me draw, or something, for he tried to reverse direction but his antlers were still snagged somewhat in the branches of the tree. He was still perfectly placed as the arrow, like some mythical thing, arched across the distance between us as it held course for his vitals.
In that moment I felt an elation only born from hard work and perseverance. I felt rewarded in that private way hunters are when they know they did it right. The arrow was in slow motion. Then it was inches from the bulls side. I remember this clearly like it was just a moment ago. Then it was in the ground under and behind him. He got clear and in thunder and snapping branches charged away down the hogback and crashed into the woods.

What just happened? He seemed mighty spry when he left and something inside my brain was telling me he was untouched.

I didn't feel deflated but the adrenaline dump was there. I walked over to where the bull was standing and after a few moments of searching, found my arrow. It was a big let down, seeing the shaft and feathers so dry. I could see right where the bull had been standing under the tree, where his antlers had gotten caught, everything. And right in front of this spot was one, just one, 1/4 inch diameter supple branch from a tiny mountain alder.

My arrow had deflected down under the bull just inches from his side.

Right then, I understood karma. I figured it was, even in my deep disappointment, fair that I had missed. That it was after three days of hard hunting only made it more significant. I was paying dues owed, somehow, and in this way I managed to accept that I was only human after all and the wilderness owed me nothing.

The End. Thanks for reading along.

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What some awesome story telling!  Hope there is more!

Great story thank you for bringing us along. 👍👍

Hands down the best storytelling i've seen considering no animal is down yet-keep after them!

I have a lot of "no animals were harmed" stories....

Wow, had my adrenaline going! Great story.

Someone said we need more hunting stories this is exactly what we need thanks so much for taking us along

Enjoyed the story.  I thought I was the only one with "just a tiny little 'ol limb" issue. 

Excellent hunting story and pictures!  Thanks for sharing.

 

That Sir, was a great story well told!   

Thanks for taking the time to put your hunt in written words, you are blessed with a talent few people have.  You kept me anticipating each installment.  In my mind, there recounting of the hunt above is only part of your adventure.