brotherjack
10-19-2006, 10:38 AM
This year, our freezer is already mostly full, of elk and deer both – and has been since pretty early in the season. So, I haven't exactly been hunting like I mean it for a while now. However, as elk season is rapidly coming to a close for another year, and I do still have a tag, I have been getting out a bit this week; if for no other reason than to improve on my very lacking skills as an elk hunter.
I hit the bush at just past the crack of dawn, heading down a big long draw (almost big enough to call a valley - it's a 5 minute hike to the ridges in some spots). This is an area where I've run across elk in the late season in previous years. This year, as I made my way down the draw, there was almost no elk sign to be seen – and what there was wasn't fresh. This didn't bode well, so after a 20 minute hike, I decided I might as well clear out of there and maybe go chase mule deer or something.
On the way back out, I took a slightly different route than I had ever been before. About 5 minutes into the return trip, I heard water gurgling from across the wide draw. Figuring there must be a spring over there, which would mean possibly a well used watering hole, I meandered over to have a look. Sure enough, a beautiful little mountain spring. There were tracks, but tamarack needles all over the forest floor made it impossible to tell if they were fresh or not. I sat by the spring for about an hour, just to see if anything came and went. After a bit, as I am 'on call' for a living, I checked my silenced cell phone for any messages. Sure enough, work to be done. Nothing major, but enough to get me to start the hike back to the truck again.
I had walked maybe 2 minutes back towards the truck, when I hear crashing in the bush ahead of me. Kicking myself for not being more quiet, and paying attention to what was ahead of me; I watched a spike bull elk moving at a fast walk come right at me. I froze before he saw me, and he came to within about 15 feet of my position before he figured out I wasn't a tree. Even then, he didn't panic, just stopped and started staring at me. Up on the ridge line above, a bull bugled, and I heard crashing in several parts of the bush near the source of the sound.
Kicking myself mentally, I held still until the spike bull decided to rejoin his comrades, and headed back up the hill – not spooked, but very nervous. Once he made it out of sight, I cranked out a couple of 'lost cow' calls on the old 'hoochie mamma', and waited. The bull up the hill bugled at me again – this time sounding like he was farther away than last time. I thought my chances pretty slim at this point, but I crept up towards the ridge line anyway.
A few minutes later, just before I made the crest, I sat down by a stump, and honked the hoochie mamma once more. Lo' and behold, crashing the bush, coming my way! After a minute, a cow elk materialized out of the fairly thick brush. She made here way along a trail about 25 yards to my left, heading down into the floor of the draw. I sat there frozen, hoping the bull might follow.
Sure enough, less than a minute later, a BIG bull crunches his way into view, on the same track the cow had just taken. This is a much bigger bull than the little 6x6 I took last year (who has to be one of the smallest typical 6x6'x on record). My heart rate doubled instantly, as I started counting points on the nearest antler. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.... 2, 4, ... 5... oh, bummer. Well, how about that far antler... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... and is that another point on the tip of that fifth tine? Why, yes it is! It's so small though. I stared as hard as I could, but I just couldn't convince myself that the little nub was long enough (legally speaking) to call a point. It has to be an inch, and this looked like closer to ½ or ¾ of an inch to me. Definitely too close for me to want to risk it. Talk about frustrating though! Even as I sit here and type this, a little part of my mind thinks that maybe that nub was longer than I thought it was, and I just passed on a legal elk; inside of bow range no less!
As if that wasn't enough, before the big bull was even out of sight, a slightly smaller bull with badly busted up antlers followed on along. This guy, though smaller and with thinner tines on his antlers, I'm pretty sure started the season as 6x6. By now though, he's got one tine on either side that's been broken off at the base, and several that have broken tips. Definitely not legal.
As soon as they got out of sight, I started second guessing if the first bull was six point or not. I honked the hoochie mamma a couple of times, hoping he'd come back and give me a better look at the questionable antler. He bugled at me a couple of times, but no such luck. They crunched slowly off into the bush in the general direction of my truck. I waited a minute or two, but no more elk were forthcoming.
As they never spooked and ran, I made an attempt to stalk back up on them, and get a better look at the antler of the questionable elk. But either the pace I had to keep to for silence sake was too slow to catch them, or they turned off another way once they got ahead of me a bit. I made it all the way back to the truck without ever seeing them or hearing them again.
And that was my morning...
I hit the bush at just past the crack of dawn, heading down a big long draw (almost big enough to call a valley - it's a 5 minute hike to the ridges in some spots). This is an area where I've run across elk in the late season in previous years. This year, as I made my way down the draw, there was almost no elk sign to be seen – and what there was wasn't fresh. This didn't bode well, so after a 20 minute hike, I decided I might as well clear out of there and maybe go chase mule deer or something.
On the way back out, I took a slightly different route than I had ever been before. About 5 minutes into the return trip, I heard water gurgling from across the wide draw. Figuring there must be a spring over there, which would mean possibly a well used watering hole, I meandered over to have a look. Sure enough, a beautiful little mountain spring. There were tracks, but tamarack needles all over the forest floor made it impossible to tell if they were fresh or not. I sat by the spring for about an hour, just to see if anything came and went. After a bit, as I am 'on call' for a living, I checked my silenced cell phone for any messages. Sure enough, work to be done. Nothing major, but enough to get me to start the hike back to the truck again.
I had walked maybe 2 minutes back towards the truck, when I hear crashing in the bush ahead of me. Kicking myself for not being more quiet, and paying attention to what was ahead of me; I watched a spike bull elk moving at a fast walk come right at me. I froze before he saw me, and he came to within about 15 feet of my position before he figured out I wasn't a tree. Even then, he didn't panic, just stopped and started staring at me. Up on the ridge line above, a bull bugled, and I heard crashing in several parts of the bush near the source of the sound.
Kicking myself mentally, I held still until the spike bull decided to rejoin his comrades, and headed back up the hill – not spooked, but very nervous. Once he made it out of sight, I cranked out a couple of 'lost cow' calls on the old 'hoochie mamma', and waited. The bull up the hill bugled at me again – this time sounding like he was farther away than last time. I thought my chances pretty slim at this point, but I crept up towards the ridge line anyway.
A few minutes later, just before I made the crest, I sat down by a stump, and honked the hoochie mamma once more. Lo' and behold, crashing the bush, coming my way! After a minute, a cow elk materialized out of the fairly thick brush. She made here way along a trail about 25 yards to my left, heading down into the floor of the draw. I sat there frozen, hoping the bull might follow.
Sure enough, less than a minute later, a BIG bull crunches his way into view, on the same track the cow had just taken. This is a much bigger bull than the little 6x6 I took last year (who has to be one of the smallest typical 6x6'x on record). My heart rate doubled instantly, as I started counting points on the nearest antler. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.... 2, 4, ... 5... oh, bummer. Well, how about that far antler... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... and is that another point on the tip of that fifth tine? Why, yes it is! It's so small though. I stared as hard as I could, but I just couldn't convince myself that the little nub was long enough (legally speaking) to call a point. It has to be an inch, and this looked like closer to ½ or ¾ of an inch to me. Definitely too close for me to want to risk it. Talk about frustrating though! Even as I sit here and type this, a little part of my mind thinks that maybe that nub was longer than I thought it was, and I just passed on a legal elk; inside of bow range no less!
As if that wasn't enough, before the big bull was even out of sight, a slightly smaller bull with badly busted up antlers followed on along. This guy, though smaller and with thinner tines on his antlers, I'm pretty sure started the season as 6x6. By now though, he's got one tine on either side that's been broken off at the base, and several that have broken tips. Definitely not legal.
As soon as they got out of sight, I started second guessing if the first bull was six point or not. I honked the hoochie mamma a couple of times, hoping he'd come back and give me a better look at the questionable antler. He bugled at me a couple of times, but no such luck. They crunched slowly off into the bush in the general direction of my truck. I waited a minute or two, but no more elk were forthcoming.
As they never spooked and ran, I made an attempt to stalk back up on them, and get a better look at the antler of the questionable elk. But either the pace I had to keep to for silence sake was too slow to catch them, or they turned off another way once they got ahead of me a bit. I made it all the way back to the truck without ever seeing them or hearing them again.
And that was my morning...