Deerhunter85
09-19-2015, 08:57 PM
Well I’ve been meaning to post this for some time now but I just haven’t had a lot of time this year. It has been a roller coaster of a year with the birth of my son, crazy work hours, the passing of my grandfather, and my good friend and coworker being diagnosed with AML (acute myeloid leukemia). So for the most part it has been a hard season but my little boy is a bright light in all the gloom and so was the conquest of the beast my wife has nicknamed Titan who now hangs on our living room wall and is the very point of this post.
Not too much of a background for this one as the hunt ended a few hours after it began. But for those of you who like a bit of a read to go along with the pictures I will do my best. Last October my wife, kids, parents, and I left the Island and headed out to the Kootenays to see family for Thanksgiving. This trip was mainly to visit family with the hopes of getting some hunting in if the chance presented itself. Well, the chance did come and we only had 1 morning to make something happen. The night before, my dad and I discussed where might be the best place to go with such little time to put in and not being too familiar with the area. We tried contacting a couple family members and others we knew in the area for some help but didn’t receive much input as none of our family there hunts. After a while we narrowed it down to two locations but which spot to choose? In the end we chose the closer location for our hunt as it gave us more time to be out.
The morning of the hunt wakes us up well before the sun is breaking over the mountain peaks and filling the valleys with its rays. We grab our lunches and head out the door into the crisp cool air. As any good hunt should we started off by hitting up the local Tim Hortons for breakfast and then headed into the mountains. We found ourselves at the foot of the mountain just before daybreak and began to unload the ATV from the truck; getting our gear out and ready. As we began our climb up the mountain I wished I had brought my balaclava to keep my face warm from the below zero air rushing against my face. Oh well, live and learn right? As we carried on we hit a few side roads not wanting to possibly miss a deer or a herd of elk on the way up. We spent some time on foot slowly walking, listening, glassing and calling once in a while hoping to hear that awesome and always exciting return call of a bull elk. No luck. Only a couple of grouse that were very skittish and flew before we could close the distance to a hundred yards. All the deer and elk sign we were seeing was very old and after an hour and a half we decided to just get to the top of the mountain before really starting to put some time in on foot.
By the time we have almost reached the top of the mountain the sun has begun melting away the frost on the branches of the trees and roadsides. It is probably 8:15 as we take a spur road to the right and assent a little higher. As we are slowly moving along, I am carefully studying the slash to the left as dad is focused on driving and watching the hill in front. Just as I start to turn my head back to the hill in front of us I hear dad shout out “ELK”. I look up to see a dozen or more cows about 4 hundred yards off, trucking up the ridge out of the Christmas trees below. We study the group closely but there is no bull to be seen. Dad speeds up a little to close some more ground just in case the bull is still in the trees or on the right side of the road in the cut below where we think the cows came from. We both start focusing everywhere for a bull. I mention to dad that there must be a bull here with so many cows together and no calves!? Unless some other lucky hunter has shot him already. No sooner had I said that, I see this mass of antler bobbing up and down in the trees the cows had previously come out of. I tap on dads shoulder and say “BULL BULL BULL!”. Dad hits the gas a little more to close the distance from us to him to about 200 yards before hitting the brakes and letting me off. The bull then disappears behind a ridge that is running straight up the cut into heavy timber above. Dad continues up the road a little further on the ATV as I run up the cut as fast as I can, loading my gun all the while trying to make it to the ridge before the bull enters the timber. Dad turns the ATV and starts driving into the cut on the opposite side of the ridge from me. This forces the bull to change his direction which then put him back over the ridge towards me. I see his antlers begin to appear and bring my rifle up to start counting points. I can see six points on his right side as he slows and turns his head back towards dad atop the ridge behind him. I can now no longer hear the ATV’s motor so I assume dad is off and loaded with his sights set on the bull now too. I am waiting for the sound of his .300wsm to ring out and for this bull to hit the dirt, but no shot echos out. I wanted dad to shoot this bull as he has been hunting elk for far longer than I have and has yet to take one home. A couple of years earlier I was fortunate to draw a coveted Campbell River Roosevelt Elk tag and took a nice bull home then. So in my mind, it was dad’s turn to take one home. But when what seemed like an eternity went by with no shot (even though it was probably only a matter of seconds), I decided to shoot. The bull was now starting to pick up his pace again to hightail it out of there and I couldn’t let this guy get away. BOOM! My rifle rang out and my bullet found itself buried deep into his lungs. The bull started running full tilt across the top of the cut towards where we came from and was now headed for the thick timber again. He’s covered over a hundred yards with no sign of slowing. I can see the blood pouring out his side, a little more with each stride but he isn’t going down. I can’t let him reach the trees or our job of getting him home is going to be ten times harder. I put my crosshairs on his shoulder and my .270wsm barks again. The bullet enters in just behind the first and he hits the dirt, debris flying in every direction. There is no movement for a brief moment as the dirt settles and the small logs return to the earth. Then miraculously he gets back up on his feet again and starts running down towards the road. He makes it another 60 yards when dads lets a round off hitting him 1 ½” to the left of my first shot. This time he goes down for good. I begin to make my way up to him and he just keeps getting bigger and bigger. My thoughts are now going back to the images of him running through the Christmas trees and the awe I felt about how much mass he had. I pick up his antlers and I can’t get my hands all the way around. I start counting points, 7 on one side and 5 on the other. He has broken off one point on his right side and two on the left, making him an 8x7 if he was all intact.
Dad makes his way over and we take some pictures and get him in place to start cleaning him out. Dad leaves me to do the dirty work as he goes off to see if there are any other legal satellite bulls close by in the surrounding cut blocks. By the time he gets back I am all finished and starting to clean up. (Oh the perks of a father/son hunt huh Dad?) By late afternoon we had the elk back in town and hanging from a back hoe all ready to skin and quarter. It became an impromptu family event as aunts, uncles, cousins, parents and grandparents showed up to both help and watch, there were even cookies being passed around for refreshment, haha. My two girls ages 2 and 4 were both excited to see their Daddy’s conquest as well as explore the inner workings of a dead animal. My wife was particularly horrified when my oldest gouged her finger into the eye socket and then later watched intently as we cut around the man parts. Future hunters in the making right Sweetheart? ;) I hope you enjoyed “your short story” because I CLEARLY enjoyed telling it.
A special thanks to Scott from "The Bone Zone" for doing an awesome job with the euro mount. He got the mount back to me a couple weeks earlier than he originally estimated and did a superb job. No cut corners getting it done. Thanks Scott :)
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/rachaelcoverdale/matts/20141010_075522_zpsaf1e1965.jpg (http://s583.photobucket.com/user/rachaelcoverdale/media/matts/20141010_075522_zpsaf1e1965.jpg.html)
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/rachaelcoverdale/matts/20141010_113317_zpsa78b5cdd.jpg (http://s583.photobucket.com/user/rachaelcoverdale/media/matts/20141010_113317_zpsa78b5cdd.jpg.html)
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/rachaelcoverdale/matts/20141010_145104_zps285299ec.jpg (http://s583.photobucket.com/user/rachaelcoverdale/media/matts/20141010_145104_zps285299ec.jpg.html)
Not too much of a background for this one as the hunt ended a few hours after it began. But for those of you who like a bit of a read to go along with the pictures I will do my best. Last October my wife, kids, parents, and I left the Island and headed out to the Kootenays to see family for Thanksgiving. This trip was mainly to visit family with the hopes of getting some hunting in if the chance presented itself. Well, the chance did come and we only had 1 morning to make something happen. The night before, my dad and I discussed where might be the best place to go with such little time to put in and not being too familiar with the area. We tried contacting a couple family members and others we knew in the area for some help but didn’t receive much input as none of our family there hunts. After a while we narrowed it down to two locations but which spot to choose? In the end we chose the closer location for our hunt as it gave us more time to be out.
The morning of the hunt wakes us up well before the sun is breaking over the mountain peaks and filling the valleys with its rays. We grab our lunches and head out the door into the crisp cool air. As any good hunt should we started off by hitting up the local Tim Hortons for breakfast and then headed into the mountains. We found ourselves at the foot of the mountain just before daybreak and began to unload the ATV from the truck; getting our gear out and ready. As we began our climb up the mountain I wished I had brought my balaclava to keep my face warm from the below zero air rushing against my face. Oh well, live and learn right? As we carried on we hit a few side roads not wanting to possibly miss a deer or a herd of elk on the way up. We spent some time on foot slowly walking, listening, glassing and calling once in a while hoping to hear that awesome and always exciting return call of a bull elk. No luck. Only a couple of grouse that were very skittish and flew before we could close the distance to a hundred yards. All the deer and elk sign we were seeing was very old and after an hour and a half we decided to just get to the top of the mountain before really starting to put some time in on foot.
By the time we have almost reached the top of the mountain the sun has begun melting away the frost on the branches of the trees and roadsides. It is probably 8:15 as we take a spur road to the right and assent a little higher. As we are slowly moving along, I am carefully studying the slash to the left as dad is focused on driving and watching the hill in front. Just as I start to turn my head back to the hill in front of us I hear dad shout out “ELK”. I look up to see a dozen or more cows about 4 hundred yards off, trucking up the ridge out of the Christmas trees below. We study the group closely but there is no bull to be seen. Dad speeds up a little to close some more ground just in case the bull is still in the trees or on the right side of the road in the cut below where we think the cows came from. We both start focusing everywhere for a bull. I mention to dad that there must be a bull here with so many cows together and no calves!? Unless some other lucky hunter has shot him already. No sooner had I said that, I see this mass of antler bobbing up and down in the trees the cows had previously come out of. I tap on dads shoulder and say “BULL BULL BULL!”. Dad hits the gas a little more to close the distance from us to him to about 200 yards before hitting the brakes and letting me off. The bull then disappears behind a ridge that is running straight up the cut into heavy timber above. Dad continues up the road a little further on the ATV as I run up the cut as fast as I can, loading my gun all the while trying to make it to the ridge before the bull enters the timber. Dad turns the ATV and starts driving into the cut on the opposite side of the ridge from me. This forces the bull to change his direction which then put him back over the ridge towards me. I see his antlers begin to appear and bring my rifle up to start counting points. I can see six points on his right side as he slows and turns his head back towards dad atop the ridge behind him. I can now no longer hear the ATV’s motor so I assume dad is off and loaded with his sights set on the bull now too. I am waiting for the sound of his .300wsm to ring out and for this bull to hit the dirt, but no shot echos out. I wanted dad to shoot this bull as he has been hunting elk for far longer than I have and has yet to take one home. A couple of years earlier I was fortunate to draw a coveted Campbell River Roosevelt Elk tag and took a nice bull home then. So in my mind, it was dad’s turn to take one home. But when what seemed like an eternity went by with no shot (even though it was probably only a matter of seconds), I decided to shoot. The bull was now starting to pick up his pace again to hightail it out of there and I couldn’t let this guy get away. BOOM! My rifle rang out and my bullet found itself buried deep into his lungs. The bull started running full tilt across the top of the cut towards where we came from and was now headed for the thick timber again. He’s covered over a hundred yards with no sign of slowing. I can see the blood pouring out his side, a little more with each stride but he isn’t going down. I can’t let him reach the trees or our job of getting him home is going to be ten times harder. I put my crosshairs on his shoulder and my .270wsm barks again. The bullet enters in just behind the first and he hits the dirt, debris flying in every direction. There is no movement for a brief moment as the dirt settles and the small logs return to the earth. Then miraculously he gets back up on his feet again and starts running down towards the road. He makes it another 60 yards when dads lets a round off hitting him 1 ½” to the left of my first shot. This time he goes down for good. I begin to make my way up to him and he just keeps getting bigger and bigger. My thoughts are now going back to the images of him running through the Christmas trees and the awe I felt about how much mass he had. I pick up his antlers and I can’t get my hands all the way around. I start counting points, 7 on one side and 5 on the other. He has broken off one point on his right side and two on the left, making him an 8x7 if he was all intact.
Dad makes his way over and we take some pictures and get him in place to start cleaning him out. Dad leaves me to do the dirty work as he goes off to see if there are any other legal satellite bulls close by in the surrounding cut blocks. By the time he gets back I am all finished and starting to clean up. (Oh the perks of a father/son hunt huh Dad?) By late afternoon we had the elk back in town and hanging from a back hoe all ready to skin and quarter. It became an impromptu family event as aunts, uncles, cousins, parents and grandparents showed up to both help and watch, there were even cookies being passed around for refreshment, haha. My two girls ages 2 and 4 were both excited to see their Daddy’s conquest as well as explore the inner workings of a dead animal. My wife was particularly horrified when my oldest gouged her finger into the eye socket and then later watched intently as we cut around the man parts. Future hunters in the making right Sweetheart? ;) I hope you enjoyed “your short story” because I CLEARLY enjoyed telling it.
A special thanks to Scott from "The Bone Zone" for doing an awesome job with the euro mount. He got the mount back to me a couple weeks earlier than he originally estimated and did a superb job. No cut corners getting it done. Thanks Scott :)
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/rachaelcoverdale/matts/20141010_075522_zpsaf1e1965.jpg (http://s583.photobucket.com/user/rachaelcoverdale/media/matts/20141010_075522_zpsaf1e1965.jpg.html)
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/rachaelcoverdale/matts/20141010_113317_zpsa78b5cdd.jpg (http://s583.photobucket.com/user/rachaelcoverdale/media/matts/20141010_113317_zpsa78b5cdd.jpg.html)
http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/rachaelcoverdale/matts/20141010_145104_zps285299ec.jpg (http://s583.photobucket.com/user/rachaelcoverdale/media/matts/20141010_145104_zps285299ec.jpg.html)