Opening Day Bull leaves me a gift

[RadSav]

Many on here know that I have a particular bull I hunt opening day every year.  He is one of those bulls I hate with a passion and love to hunt.  I'm not a big elk hunter anymore.  I find the average elk rather bland and lacking what a big muledeer has in spades.  But "The Opening Day Bull" has been my nemesis for a lot of years. He is the exception!

Always coming out the victor, he carries steal in his left shoulder from an early battle and a scar on his neck from a deflected shot at close range years later.  He has made enough mistakes he definitely knows who I am. But his mistakes and mine seem to happen in concert with one another.  He should be mine!  His antlers should proudly hold a special place above the mantel!  And yet he continues to roam the SW Washington hills, evading all who chase him and driving this bowhunter to the edge of insanity. 

He has lived long enough that he has reached legendary status in our small circle of hunting partners.  Everyone in our group stays clear of our battle grounds until the second or third day of each season.  No one in our group has seen him, except me.  Yet they know the myth bleeds.  At times my stories seem a tale too great to fully believe and even my wife has a hard time believing the images I describe about his unique antlers and his shoulder of stone.  Though all know that this bowhunter, who often prefers to sleep in the truck during elk ventures, becomes elevated to obsessed madness come opening day.  So in some small way they agree there must be something special out there.  Whether in reality or just in the mind of a lunatic they are unsure.

Todays hunt started as most of the other opening day quests.  Cover ground, look for the primary trail (which changes each year), wait for the eventual witching hour, listen for the bugle, adjust location accordingly and prepare for war.  Only this year the sign is all old, the primaries are small and the air is still with a disturbing silence.  I break from the usual plan of attack and head for "Rub Bluff". 

Rub Bluff is an old skid road covered with alders that has recorded his life in barkless marks from the first year of our battles growing and recording each progressive year till present.  Depression comes down with increasing vengeance as I realize there are no new rubs.  Could it be that our days of battle have come to an end?  Was some other hunter able to kill the beast where I had failed so many times?  What reason would I find to hunt elk going forward if my greatest adversary was no longer around to keep me humble and enraged?  I feared the worst as a weakness rush over me. 

A stone catches my eye and I find rest and comfort upon it's familiar contour.  It has supported me many times throughout the years.  Sometimes when I needed rest after admitting defeat, sometimes when I needed support after seeing the heights at which the latest rubs had reached, and sometimes when I simply needed a place of solitude as I prepared for the battle that lay ahead.  Today it held a broken man.  A man distraught with sorrow as the creeping hands of time ripped at the soul and pulled tears from the eyes.  A man not ready or prepared to say goodbye to an old friend.

"Well", I said to myself, "Accept a final defeat and come to grips with the fact those antlers will never find their way home.  It's time to move on!" 

I rock forward and rise quickly...too quickly.  A flash of white blinds me and I reach for an alder to steady myself as I wait for the issue to resolve.  The tree I have leaned against represents year three in our relationship.  It is a year he was most aggressive.  The scars show from knee to out stretch finger tip.  It also represents the year our battle was greatest.  The year I watched as an arrow found impact just three inches forward of my aim.  A year when I sat and watched as he lay 50 yards from me, breathing hard and succumbing (fatally, I thought) to the arrows impact.  With only his head visible above a large log between us we spent the next hour just watching one another.  Then, as nights grip was upon us, he stood and without hesitation trotted off into the darkness.  Assuming he had fallen alone in the timber I swore he deserved better.  I sacrificed the rest of my season continuing to search each day until seasons end.  Only to have him rise once again prepared for battle a year of nightmares later.

Before I left Rub Bluff I looked to my left at years one and two.  Time skipped as I remembered that first meeting in the heavy fog and the obsession as year two came.  Then I looked to my right.  More memories and a lot of years marked on those trees.  As you leave Rub Bluff you must go under a fallen tree and over a small spring.  As I completed the task I am eye level with the grade of the old skid road.  I was not prepared for what I was to find there.  Laid out as if placed purposely for me to find was a gift from the "Opening Day Bull".  The tears clouded my eyes as my hands explored the texture and weight of what I always imagined...to hold his wonderfully unique antlers in my hands.  It's more emotional than I ever imagined it would be.

Of all days, his gift was given to me on opening day.  What a great bull and what a great day!

[RadSav]

Of all days not to have my camera with me!  I had thought about leaving them there until I hiked back to the truck to get my phone.  But paranoia got the better of me. 

Look honey!  I have proof...I'm not crazy!!

[swwaoutdoorsman]

That's what hunting is all about! 

[deerhunter_98520]

Now that's a great story! Thanks for sharing.....you should get those mounted

[grundy53]

Wonderful story!

sent from my typewriter

[lewy]

Awesome

[Watimberghost]

That's too cool! What a great experience

[SniperDanWA]

Very nice write up RadSav.  Gives great meaning to respect of the animal.

[turkeyfeather]

If you ask me Rad, that is the perfect ending to your battle with him. Better than if you had got him. Awesome tale 

[rtspring]

Pretty damn cool, the kill is just a small part of why we hunt..  Memories for a lifetime right there!!!

I have been chasing a buck in Washington for atleast 5 years now, I missed him last year 1 minute into legal shooting light...  He drives me insane..

[pianoman9701]

Well written, Rad. Thanks for a cool story. We have 29 hours and 36 minutes before we leave for elk camp. I'll be thinking about your tale!

[buckhorn2]

a good hunting story and a great finish awesome you found the horns.

[trophyhunt]

Very nice write up RadSav.  Gives great meaning to respect of the animal.

very cool!

[MLBowhunting]

Love it.   

[tgray]

Great story with a great ending