Not a whole lot different than any other backpack hunt - hump a camp in a ways and keep on your toes. I went in without one iota of training for the last few months - life and hunting have been waylaid by moving back to WA and having a new daughter.
The big group I saw while hiking in. I was whipped, and backed out of sight a bit and dug a camp out of the hillside. The next morning I followed the trail up and over to the next ridge north in order to determine their whereabouts, only to find them bedded on the trail. I spooked them off into a hole that I wasn't mentally prepared to hunt. I grieved the probable loss of my opportunity and made plan for the next day to hike straight up the ridge from camp to a high spot and try find others. The next morning, just after leaving camp and heading up the ridge, I spotted the subject bull very near where I was the previous day, in the open, feeding. The big burn offers little cover, but he was paying too much attention to food so I made it over. He died about 100 vertical feet below the trail. That was Tuesday, and I got the last load to the trailhead Friday at noon.
I don't think his body was all that big. My two big loads of hindquarter+shoulder each weighed about 80 lbs.
Rifle: 30-06 rem mountain rifle in ti stock. Scope: 4x leupold. Load: 130 TTSX over way too much R15.
I hunted the same clump of mountains from the opposite side back in '04, saw elk everyday, and shot a 4x raghorn. I'm not convinced the Frank is a lost cause for elk, but I might be fortunate in that I've twice stumbled into where they are.
