Like the title says, I got my first bull elk ever this week. Over the last 16 years I've chased elk across Eastern Wa, Western Wa, Oregon once, and Idaho several times. I had so many close encounters, missed shots, etc. I thought it might never all come together, but since the very first time experiencing hunting elk during the rut with a bow I was hooked. Didn't even want to hunt them any other way. So here is how it all went down.
My cousin and I bought our Idaho elk tags early in the year, and made several scouting trips this summer. Although we didn't see many elk (mostly due to the thick vegetation), there seemed to be lots of sign in the areas I had hunted previously. A couple weekend hunting trips didn't produce much action though. Heard a few bugles, but the general area was loaded with people. We had a 9 day trip planned for the last part of the season, and hoped the rut would kick in, and the people would thin out.
We got into camp late on the 19th, and were not real exited about the hot temperatures predicted that week. We were up early and ready to hunt in the morning though. I had picked out a secluded little ridge that I thought others wouldn't likely go. At daylight we started our hunt down the ridge, and heard at least two bulls bugling. We set off after one across the canyon. Down to the bottom, and up the other side. Wouldn't you know it, when we got over there he had shut up, or moved off. Another bull sounds off from the ridge we were just on. So back across we go.... He bugles a few more times and fades off. It's getting to be midday now, and getting hot, so we think were done when that original bull starts sounding off again. He's a long way off across the canyon, but I let one rip right back at him. Nothing. We start up the ridge, then he bugles again, alot closer. He's coming! We scramble to get a good setup, and continue to bugle, and cow call. We moved a little closer, and my cousin volunteers to hang back and call while I set up for a shot. By now he is getting close screaming the whole way. I was able to get into a good position on a mostly open hillside, when I seen him coming. Actually one cow was leading the way, and he was right behind her. When the cow got to 30 yards and went behind a bush I drew. Within seconds the bull was right in front of me. He stopped on his own perfectly broadside in my shooting lane, and I let the arrow fly. It was like I seen it in slow motion disappear right behind the shoulder. He spun the way he had came from, but as quick as I could I bugled to stop him. In a cloud of dust he put on the brakes, and looked back, confused as to what just happened. He took a few more steps, so I cow call, and he stopped again. Then I seen him wobble side to side for a second, and then he cartwheeled down the steep slope.
I couldn't believe it. I was in shock! Did that really just happen. I even shed a few tears.. This was 16 years in the making, and he appeared to be a real good bull. My cousin makes it up to me and can see how emotional I was, and knew I had killed that bull. Since I had seen him fall we only took a couple minutes, and went to see my bull. He had stopped in an awkward position against a down log, and I counted six points per side.
We had to get busy quick, because it was about 12:30 pm by now and at least 80 degrees, and we were down in a hell hole. We processed him as quick as we could and began packing meat to the creek bottom to cool. I hiked back up the ridge to the truck, while my cousin looked for a route out the bottom. By midnight we had the last pieces of meat out.
