This season I got to go on 3 Oregon Elk hunts back to back. The first hunt was my hunting partners and mine eastern Oregon muzzleloader hunt. The second was my wife Veronica's 1st season Murderers creek rifle any bull hunt. The third hunt was the same unit 2nd season with my dad.
The muzzleloader hunt was one of the toughest hunts I've been on. To say the country was steep, deep and thick would be an understatement. My good friend and hunting partner Rod and I both had tags. We found a herd feeding out right before dark the day before season, so we hit that area for the first two days, without finding the elk. There was three other groups of hunters hammering the same area, so we gave it a 3 day rest and hit some other areas with no elk seen or heard. On Wednesday evening we went back up on the mountain and sat on the cliff where the elk had fed out under the day before season.
It was close to dark and we were about to bug out for the evening but Rod wanted to stick it out. He had won the coin toss on day one to be the one who would get first shot if we were together and the other guy would back up the first guys shot. All of a sudden from somewhere close a bull screamed at us. It was the first bugle we had heard the whole trip and caught us a little off guard. We looked down below us and cows were single filing out onto the sagebrush hillside, Rod said "bull" took aim and shot. I pulled down on one of the cows since the tag was 'any elk' and Rod said the bull was still up. For me to get a shot I had to run around the top of the cliff and there was the bull facing broadside and looking at his cows. I hammered him through the shoulders and rolled him down the hill for about 40 yards where he wrapped around a tree. We put two more in him. Rod was sure he hit him the first shot, so he tagged him of course. But the next day when we got him skinned out Rod had missed him. There was only two body hits mine through the shoulders and one from behind his shoulder forward and down out through his neck, which could have only been made once the bull was down. Rod's initial shot was from above straight on down between the horns. He doesn't know why he didn't wait on the broadside shot. Oh well the bull is dead, long live the bull.
This is for Mwhite, he's not the only hunter that can get his bull out whole.
I won't go on this hunt again, the brightside of the hunt was we met a couple of hunters from Wallowa Oregon and got invited to whitetail hunt the one guys farm this next year. Small world always blows me away, after *censored*ting with Woody and Glen we realized we had mutual friends that live in Wallowa. Looking forward to hunting with them next year.
I came home and worked two days then were off for my wife Veronica's 1st out of state elk hunt. I had put her in with my other hunting partner and good friend Gary's wife Cathy and two other friends Norm and Randy. Gary and I would play guide for our wives. Two other friends Chris and Steve had the same tags and were camped across the road from us.
I've had this tag a couple of times and both hunts were very good. Hiking in the first morning my wife noticed tracks in our flashlights beam but I didn't take a very carefull look and thought it looked old. When we came out I realized the track was fresh, so we tracked them out as best as I could. I lost the track upon a flat ridge, so we just kept working our way up the ridge. We stopped in a little saddle with a lot of sign, when I heard elk running, they were running right at us. A cow with twin calves stopped in front of us on the ridge at 30 yards and a spike ran up to us and turned broadside at twenty yards. My wife had her gun up and had her crosshairs on his front shoulders, then she whispered to me "What do I do?" I wispered back "Kill that f-----!" She whispered "I don't want to kill a spike." I didn't respond. The herd blew out. I told her to not regret her decision in the days ahead and feel good that you held out.
The next day Randy shot a real pretty 5x6. One g-1, and the g-5 got busted up in the rocks when the bulls was trashing around and broke the main beam. This was his biggest bull which is always cool.
Two days later she regetted not killing the spike after not seeing anymore elk. On the fourth day we hiked into a road closure and bumped a herd with 6 or 7 bulls in it and she got a shot at the biggest a big 5. We tracked/chased the herd for a mile and a half and I told her you must shoot the first bull you can, because after we blow them out this time it'll be 3 or 4 miles before we catch them again. I've chased these Murderers creek elk before. We caught up to the herd and outstepped a spike which she hammered without question at a hundred yards offhand. She made a quick follow up shot and the bull was hers.
I love this shot of my little redneck girl. I think she's happy with the hunt.
Veronica and Randy's bulls.
Chris killed a whopper of a bull. They gross rough taped at 316". Chris and steve had just split up when chris spotted this toad, he shot it and out ran another big six. Too bad steve wasn't with him.
That's Cathy in the photo. Cathy got her kill in, just not an elk. Gary heard some yotes howling so they did a quick setup, gary started calling and Cathy nailed this beautiful dog as he ran in looking for a quick meal.
I have no pics of steve's bull which was a 2 point. This was a great hunt, where we all hunted hard and pulled out 4 bulls for 6 hunters. The best part for me is my wife is fully hooked on elk hunting. Now she wants to go goose hunting.
I came home worked four days and then took off again for Murderers creek again with my dad for his second season tag. My dad is 73 and has one rebuilt knee and one needing to be rebuilt plus has a pacemaker/defibilator in his chest. That said he has to be one of the toughest son of a bitches alive. We hunted 5-7 miles everyday chasing elk. He wanted to beat a guys ass who came driving up on us while we were walking in a road closure. I confronted the *censored* and he got the hell out. After he gave his lame excuse. On the second day we tracked a herd and snuck into the herd. The mountain top we were on was socked in with clouds and you could only see 50-60 yards. A big bull walked out in front of my dad at 50 yards and his scope was fogged up, plus it was foggy so he couldn't get off a shot. We chased the herd after they blew, caught them one more time but couldn't pick out any bulls as they busted in the thick crap. We chased the herd the rest of the day and never caught them. Saw lots of wild horses throughout the trip.
We shutdown periodically and watched crossings.
On the last full day of hunting we changed areas to a ridge I had found alot of sign on during the 1st season hunt. We found tracks in the headlights as we drove in. We pulled over and waited til light to track them out. We went maybe 1/4 mile when we caught the herd. We looked for bulls but couldn't see any and since it was the last full day of hunting my dad zapped a cow. Not all trophy's have horns. My dad's killed 80+ elk, and he intended to kill a bull, but you never pass up a cow especially one within a 150 yards downhill to the road.
What an awesome season! I feel truly blessed to have spent this season with good friends and family chasing wild wapiti's!
