I guess I have not run out of hunting luck yet. I got one Sunday.
Sorry no Pictures. It is not a very impressive set of horns anyway, a 6x2 but you would laugh if you saw them. Barely legal so no bragging but I thought you might enjoy the story.
I had hunted all day Saturday and saw nothing but brush on what I thought was pretty flat ground but at the end of the day my knees were killing me. I had planned to go up on the hill Sunday but the knees changed that. Saturday morning they were as stiff as stove pipes but I put on a couple ace bandages, popped a couple pills and away I went.
I went down to the Fish hatchery and crossed the creek on the dam. There is a small tributary runs in right there and I was going to hunt up the right side of it until I came to some leased ground, cross the creek and hunt back down to the car. Flat country and about 90 year old hemlock timber. Brushy in spots but open on the bench above the creek. It was raining so not much chance of seeing tracks. Tough to track in that country anyway.
I came in sight of the clearing that is the leased area. I was on Forest Service land. I crossed the creek and it was much brushier on that side. About 6 foot high salal brush with and assortment of huckleberry and vine maple. I had worked my way north of the creek quite a way trying to find some good going when up jumps this bull about 200 feet from me. That is a long shot in there.
After fiddling with my scope covers for what seemed an eternity I got my gun on him. I probably should not have done it but I took a head shot and normally when you do that the animal is either dead or gone. In this case he turned and took off when I shot.
Krap! I just missed more then likely the only bull I will see this year.
I ran up to where he had been as fast as I could go. Did I mention my knees were killing me? No tracks that I could see. I was hoping there were more elk so I might have a chance at tracking them but as it turned out he was all alone.
I walked down somewhat of a trail where he had gone for about a 100 feet and there he is, pointed straight away from me with his head down and about 30 feet away.
In retrospect he looked sick but it did not register at the time. He presented absolutely no shot. I watched him for what seemed like forever but in reality probably only 30 seconds or so. He would swing his head from side to side a little but never enough to take another shot at his head.
Then his head comes up and I try a shot over his back to the back of his head. Boom and down he goes. No pat on the back for a good shot though. I just clipped the top of the hump at his shoulders. It turned out no spinal damage but the shock of getting a couple of those bones that stick up broke paralyzed him at least temporarily.
I walked up and he was flailing around more vigorously as time went by. I think he would have gotten up eventually but I gave him a finishing shot to the back of the head.
On inspection my first shot had hit him right on the bridge of the nose halfway between the eyes and nose. From the angle it should have went under his brain. Lot of bone there though. I still am blown away that I could hit the elk there and not at least knock him down. He never even seemed to flinch. I shoot a 300 WSM by the way.
The reason the elk was alone is likely because he was a cripple. It looked like he had broke his left front foreleg some time ago. It was healed but pulled up and the joints were stiff.. He could not use it and his shoulder muscles were atrophied from not being used. There was a little discharge from his foreleg but I whacked it off at the elbow and everything above seemed fine.
The pack out was a little disconcerting because I was only about 300 yards from a road but had to pack it about a mile because I could not access the road.
I hung it and skinned it Sunday and because I am not to smart ended up packing the front half out that day getting out about dark. I think I might have mentioned my knees are killing me.
I started a little late Monday and had the last of it in the pickup at about 2:30.