Absolutely Sickening EDIT: Bull Was Found

[Sliverslinger]

EDIT: Please see my post at the end of the thread. Bull was finally found.


Please forgive the long story - more of a rant and release:

I'm absolutely sick to my stomach right now. I've spent all summer scouting this one particular honey hole of mine and I had identified 6-7 different bulls that were passing through the area and one monster bull I've been trying to get for 2 years. We backpacked in Sunday morning and spent the day getting our  camp set up. Monday we scouted and checked my game cams again - The bulls were there! Opening morning found us slipping down off a rock bluff into big old growth timber and patches of thick huckbrush. Within minutes we bumped a small herd, realizing that they must have been standing on the back side of a brush patch. We saw neither hide nor hair, but the thundering of hoofs heading down the hill left no doubt. That was our closest encounter for several days.
    Throughout the course of the week we put in 51.7 miles total, leaving camp and arriving at the top of the bluffs well before first light each morning and hiking back in to camp around 10 each night. Despite all of the effort and scouting, the elk were nowhere to be found. It was as if they had simply disappeared. The storm on Thursday dumped so much rain in our camp that everything except our sleeping bags ended up absolutely soaked as our camp site became filled with up to as much as 3 or 4 inches of standing water and mud. Our packs, bows, and boots were almost unuseable from the grime that coated everything. Rather than just stay in our sleeping bags, we elected to pack up and drive all the way home, spray all of our gear off, and throw our boots on a drier and clothes through the wash and head back out.
   2:30 am came ridiculously early as we grabbed just a few hours sleep. Sunrise found us hiking back up into the basin, still without hearing a single bugle all season thus far. After a few hours we found ourselves checking familiar meadows, timber patches, and trails, with not even a fresh elk track in sight. At 11am the weeks exertion and lack of sleep were catching up to us and exhaustion was setting in. On the edge of a meadow my buddy and I sat, with next to nothing left in the tank. All of the hopes, time, excitement, and effort put into to this hunt and the last full day was half over with no indication that there was a single elk within miles. We made a hasty plan to hunt down hill and somewhat cross country, my partner on one ridge system and I on another. I left him there for a quick nap, indicating that I was going to move about 500 yards away down another small ridge into thick, nasty timber and perhaps do a series of calling setups with a Montana decoy as I move down.
   Within 20 minutes I found myself slipping ridiculously slowly down a ridge that was covered in incredibly thick timber, frequent brush patches and blow down. As the water from brush and small pines soaked down my boots and ran down the back of my neck and under my collar, I found myself formulating a tentative plan to simply bomb down off the mountain and sleep the rest of the day warm and dry in my truck. Fighting the temptation to follow through and give in to the fatigue, I paused and began looking for any possible place to do a calling setup and still have a shooting lane. As I looked straight down immediately in front of me,  my heart nearly stopped as I saw between two trees the unmistakable  snapshot of an elk midsection. I stepped behind a tree and froze, slipping my rangefinder up and confirming that I was looking at a vertical cross section of the back end of a rib cage and a great pot belly on an elk that was facing left. 
   A slight movement above the back of the animal caught my attention and I was slowly able to make out great sweeping antler beams, tainted the color of cedar on top of an incredibly tubby body. He stood perfectly  broadside at 40.2 yards, almost entirely concealed. I could see nothing of his head and nothing of his hind end, just his beams with points coming off and a small section of his body. I deemed the only shot I had to be makeable, but too far back and so I slowly nocked an arrow and waited. And there we sat, frozen in time as I searched desperately for nearly nonexistent shooting lanes in the event he took a few steps forward or back.
   The winds had been frustratingly fickle all morning, changing directions sometimes by the minute and I knew my time was very limited. He also clearly knew something was up. I decided to be aggressive and came to full draw while slowly side stepping to the right and around a small tree to move my 10 inch wide shooting lane to the side and hopefully exposing more of the bulls vitals. I took my first step and I saw the great beams turn indicating the animal was looking straight at me. Frozen at full draw for what felt like forever I began to contemplate letting down. Knowing that no matter what movement I made, he would likely bust me I decided to take another very slow step or two and hope for a lane. As I took my next step, I realized that it took me behind another small fir tree and out of his vision. As I brought  my back foot up to  where I was standing I snapped a twig causing a small crack. The bull whirled 180 degrees in place facing to the right now but still perfectly broadside.  Leaning around the tree I identified that his head was still behind a tree as was his back end but I now had a 3-4 inch wide window to his vitals. I could just see his neck mane through some limbs, then my window to his shoulder with antlers sweeping back above it and and the crease behind it. I identified horizontal limbs at about 20 and 30 yards and crouched slightly clearing both of my top pins before settling my green 40 yard pin right behind the shoulder. A feeling of total confidence was firm in my mind as I settled into my anchor, born from thousands and thousands of arrows shot -  ramping up to daily shooting session from 5-75 yards on all but two days in August. I distinctly recall my knuckle behind my ear and the tip of my nose touching the string. I knew I had just an inch or so either way and up and down to slip my arrow through. With my pin floating right behind the shoulder, not as low as I would like but exactly dead center up and down on the body, I tightened my shoulder muscles. The shot was a complete surprise as I was just starting to squeeze the trigger. The whole sequence felt great and the release was met with a loud tthhwwaappp! The bull lunged forward running full speed down a trail before bailing off and circling to run straight down the hill. I cow called as I heard him run longer than I would have anticipated crashing through everything, I estimated 75 yards before all was quiet. 
   I dropped to my knees and took huge breaths while replaying the shot in my mind. It was perfect; if it wouldn't have been, it would have hit a tree before ever getting to the bull. I dug in my pack for some ribbon and marked where I was standing before pulling out my bugle tube and radio. Giving three loud, consecutive bugles I turned my radio on and informed my partner that I had just shot a big bull, quite possibly even the monster bull we had pictures of. It was 11:30am.  I waited about 10 minutes before walking quietly down to where the bull had been standing. The spot was obvious as there was a large splatter of blood on a log and fern on the left side of the trail. I sat down and breathed huge sighs of relief as I waited another 15 minutes for my buddy to work his way towards me.  Once he arrived I recapped the whole story for him and showed him the bright red and thick blood. I noticed a conspicuous lack of frothiness but it was clearly an arterial hit and was on the left side of the right facing bull so I knew my arrow had passed through.
   We looked around for my arrow for a while without success and decided to give the bull some more time just to be sure before picking up the trail. After a while we got started trailing. Within a few feet I found another large blood splatter and a few step later I found my arrow laying on the ground covered from broadhead to nock with bright red blood and blood all over the ground. At the point it was clear the bull had bailed off of the trail and was headed straight down the hill towards the creek. Out came the camera documenting the highest of highs as we recounted the week with all of its' lows. Now, finally, a big bull was down! Picking up the trail again we found bright, red blood about every 10 feet, in one case all up the first 2 feet of a tree. We lost the trail for a short period of time where the bull blast down through a brush pile, but breathed sighs of relief when we found blood on the other side. Then it took another 10 minutes to find the next blood 10 yards further down the hill, still bright red, but no bubbles and not as much. It appeared to have both fat and possibly a very small bit of lung tissue in it.  40 minutes later we found more blood further down the hill. Working our way back we found blood again so about every seven to ten yards, but from that point on no more blood was found. From the shot to last blood was 104 yards. 
   We looked for 2 more hours up and down the hill for blood before coming back to the point of last blood and then using my GPS I walked a grid every 50 ft, 300 yard across back and forth with the point of last blood being the center. My partner walked both sides of the creeks on both sides of the ridge. We checked every log jam, every massive brush pile, with only one brief break to talk out a plan we searched for the entire rest of the day with a frenzied determination. There was no blood and there were too many fresh tracks going up and down to determine which set was his. We did everything we could to leave no spot uncovered. My GPS showed my grid alone to be a massive honeycomb extending down into the drainage. Panic set in and from the highest of highs we were now back in the bottom.
   Soaked and exhausted, cramps began to set in. We re-examined all the blood we had found - bright thick red blood. The arrow was still covered with blood, an incredible layer of fat stuck and dried around the fletching. Still we looked and looked, finding no sign of the bull. Everything we knew pointed towards a dead bull. Instant bright red blood, a pass through arrow covered in blood, blood spray from an exit wound, the bull bailing off a trail after 20 yards to run straight down hill into a nasty thick hole. We look further, branching out in every direction.  As dark began to set in we knew we had done everything we could possibly do and there was concern about physically being able to make it out of the canyon and back to the truck.
   Some time later we eventually collapsed back into the seats of my truck. Soaked completely to the bone and beyond exhausted, we made a plan to go back in to town and call friends and talked to some people about what they thought might have happened. After calling everyone we could come up with to call that late at night, we came up with only one person who was willing to come out and help look. The consensus of most of the rest was that most likely the arrow was a little too high and only nicked one lung and that the elk could be a mile away or might have survived and was gone completely. Another suggested that a shot can actually be too tight in to the shoulder, even without hitting bone.
   At this point I don't know what to do. My feet are so swollen I can hardly walk. It's been more than 24 hours since I shot the bull and I'm sure the meat is probably no good now as warm as it is out. I can't take anymore time off at this point, but I intend to go back next weekend with my brother-in-law. A buddy suggested the best bet would be to do just that and hunt for him with our noses as he should smell pretty bad by then. We plan to check every creek bottom from 1/2 mile down up to where last blood was at.  I'm just crushed. I know I made a good shot on a great bull and it's quite possibly the bull I've been after for a couple years now. I know I hit him right behind the shoulder. My broadhead and blades are in great condition and I know it passed through so it didn't hit the shoulder itself.  My elk the last two years in a row hit with this combination didn't go 50 yards combined total and there was a blood spray everywhere. I just can't figure it out.
   I guess if there are any thoughts on what might have happened or how he might have been hit, or pointers on how far a bull might go after being hit like that,  I am open to hearing it. I can't imagine him not being dead, but I suppose it is possible. 
   
   For the curious, the arrows are Gold Tip Kinetic Pros with 125 grain G5 Strikers. Total arrow weight is 502 grains shooting at 289fps. I put together this setup specifically for blowing through big bulls.

[Odell]

they are big strong animals and sometimes there is nothing you can do. Sorry it happened. Go back using your nose and the ravens.

[shrek]

Why don't you guys keep this to yourselves? I for one am tired of hearing about this. This is coming from a guy that has killed bucks and bulls with all 3 weapons, that's wh I don't archery hunt anymore.....

[Jellymon]

My guess would be a high hit. You'd be surprised how much empty space there is in the top quarter of an elks body. Besides the spine.

[Sliverslinger]

Why don't you guys keep this to yourselves? I for one am tired of hearing about this. This is coming from a guy that has killed bucks and bulls with all 3 weapons, that's wh I don't archery hunt anymore.....

Your comment was most useful- a great contribution to the topic and helpful for all - thank you.

 

[notellumcreek]

Why don't you guys keep this to yourselves? I for one am tired of hearing about this. This is coming from a guy that has killed bucks and bulls with all 3 weapons, that's wh I don't archery hunt anymore.....

Your comment was most useful- a great contribution to the topic and helpful for all - thank you.

 

  derr


TO THE OP... That's a tough break man, hopefully you guys can find him when you go back out.

[shrek]

Why don't you guys keep this to yourselves? I for one am tired of hearing about this. This is coming from a guy that has killed bucks and bulls with all 3 weapons, that's wh I don't archery hunt anymore.....

Your comment was most useful- a great contribution to the topic and helpful for all - thank you.



 

Really? Now tell me rifle hunters lose as many animals... Good one...

[Mudman]

Rifle hunters do lose /wound animals, as well as Muzzleloaders.  Its called hunting not killing.  A man with some knowledge and experience would know this.  Sooo, in summary if your tired of hearing about it get the heck off the thread Einstein.

[Sliverslinger]

Why don't you guys keep this to yourselves? I for one am tired of hearing about this. This is coming from a guy that has killed bucks and bulls with all 3 weapons, that's wh I don't archery hunt anymore.....

Your comment was most useful- a great contribution to the topic and helpful for all - thank you.



 

Really? Now tell me rifle hunters lose as many animals... Good one...

Debating the merits of one hunting method over another is simply not congruent with the topic of the situation I had. If you would like to start your own thread on that topic, I would be more than happy to provide my input and feedback, but I'll not be baited into a debate on the issue here since it is not on topic. Frankly, yours was a pot stirring comment with no value other than to instigate.

Being as that you have killed so many animals -  "bucks and bulls with all three weapons" -  perhaps you could spare some of your overflowing expertise and put it to good use by providing some feedback or useful input on where I might best hope to find my bull or what kind of a hit might have caused the scenario I recounted.

[rasbo]

go back and search some more,then when you think you have had enough, look some more,took me three days to make it right in my mind on a bear,good luck sometimes we lose an animal sucks foresure

[lokidog]

Good luck on finding him, sounds like you've put in a great effort to find him.

[RClare1223]

Its the worst feeling in the world to lose an animal. The only thing you can do is search as much as you can. The more people you can get the better. Im not too far from you if you need some more help pm me and ill do what i can.

[Sliverslinger]

My guess would be a high hit. You'd be surprised how much empty space there is in the top quarter of an elks body. Besides the spine.

If this is the case, is it possibly or even perhaps likely that he survived? Would a wound to that area really bleed bright red like that do you think?

[firefighter4607]

Why don't you guys keep this to yourselves? I for one am tired of hearing about this. This is coming from a guy that has killed bucks and bulls with all 3 weapons, that's wh I don't archery hunt anymore.....

I see you have been around for a while and don't post much; maybe that is a good thing. If you are tried of hearing about it don't read these topics! And you don't have to post your comments.

Silverslinger; I know how you feel. It is a very hard pill to swallow, my was a deer with a 270wsm rifle.
Sounds like you have tried hard to find the bull and you are going to continue to try hard to find him. Hopefully you will find him. If you would of posted eariler maybe a couple members would of voluteered to help find the elk, but I am guessing you don't want everyone to know your honey hole also.
Archery hunting I would imagine is hard work and takes a lot of patients. I for one don't think I could do archery seems like too much of a pain.

[blacktail luv]

I would say you must have hit high and missed lung.  My dad hit one right behind the shoulder but high a couple years ago.  Same scenario you  described, blood bath for a short period of time then quit.  We even found where he bedded(gave him time because we knew it was a little high).  Small pool of blood in the bed but he survived it.   I'd go back and listen for birds next weekend and if you don't hear any or smell anything I bet he survives.