Reflecting on Oneshot12's comment on wanting to hear the campfire stories of this seasons hunt I would like to toss out the invitation to hear your stories as well. Many of us are now closing down a season of hunting and prepping for the holidays. If you can find the time to share your story whether you were successful or not I would love to hear of your adventures or mis-adventures, what did you learn this season, what would you change or do differently? Doesn't have to be long or wordy just tell your story campfire like.
My story which is long winded, wordy and hopefully not boring goes like this, I would Zag instead of Zig as a I did not follow my gut instinct and missed an opportunity at nice 4x4 bull elk with two cows in tow during a white out snow storm at first light. Pull up a chair, take a seat and listen what this small bunch of elk taught me this season.
Leaving the truck we check the wind direction to find a perfect quartering wind on our nose which made our eyes water ever so slightly batting back mixed gloppy snowflakes in the softly approaching light. We stand for five anxious minutes both anticipating what lay ahead of us as we both softly spoke of our planned approach down two separate roads that lead into the already white clear cuts one to his left and one to my right, each one ripe with fresh sign from days earlier. Time arrived unspoken and we both eased forward in unison down each chosen road in silence, I glanced back 50 yards distant to my left and Ron was gone completely disappearing into the white, perfectly blended into the fabric of the landscape.
Truly amazed at the power of nature and the falling snow as a perfect camouflage I moved softly and slowly forward eyes straining, searching for elk against the backdrop of fresh snow and softly emerging first light.
Slowly climbing a small rise 100 yards in on the first corner into the clear cut I spot the silhouette of an elk standing some 100 yards distant intently staring down and across the cut into the direction of which Ron had softly melted into. Fumbling for my binoculars which I left uncovered now slightly covered with snow I see the bull, a nice 4x4 standing on a small rise with two cows below him all intently following the ghostly figure below them totally unaware of my presence as I am behind them.
One slash pile some agonizing 20 feet distant from me is my only cover as I am fully exposed in the middle of the road in heavy falling snow with a quartering wind blowing on my nose between me and those elk 100 yards distant. Making my move I cover the distance, on arrival I peek around the side and see hindquarters dropping off the small rise crossing the road left to right bull in the lead walking away from me providing only a brief quartering shot before turning straight away leaving a head shot only.
Snow covers the front green glow sight fading in and out of the rear peep sight, eyes watering, wind driven snow, wipe the front sight and eyes, elk now a brown white blob at the sharply glowing front sight!
Gone!
Across the road and melted into the white some 100 plus yards distant in less than 20 seconds, brown white blobs melted like flakes on my face into the emerging light and timber line.
Settling myself knowing that it was Ron hundreds of yards distant that softly moved them I composed a plan to ease up on them and call to them softly, hoping to turn or stall them up for a moment. Pressing forward I close the distance and hear some crashing below me to the left signaling there were more as the bull and cows moved to my right timberline, I call Ron on the radio to alert him there is movement coming his way.
My attention returns to the three elk that crossed in front of me melting into the white clear cut heading for the timber when it hits me I am on a razor ridge top road with elk to my right and left, Ron left and below me, elk both sides of me, missed opportunities foiled by wind driven snow, watery eye sight, choosing to not take a shot at a brown white blob elk in poor conditions with a dim green glow sight. Wow too much to think about, adrenalin coursing fast, hitting my brain, control your thoughts, breathing, control, control, shut it down now!
Sit down now! Do it now! Focus! Wait until you get it together, make your plan and follow through.
Fumbling for my cow calf call I bleat out a few soft calls while crouch crawling to the edge peering through the driving snow searching for movement.
Nothing, I calculate the time frame rapidly and determine five to six minutes have passed, the elk were not spooked they simply walked to safer ground, doing what their instincts directed them to do. My instincts were telling me get below them, follow the timber line down the same path they would travel to safer ground. I cross back over to the ridge road beginning my move to cut them off slowly, downward using stick alders laden with snow for cover moving off to the left eyes straining, watering looking into the wind driven snow for elk, moving right eyes searching for elk along the timber line.
Nothing, half way to the bottom landing I change my mind and I reverse course moving back to where the bull and cows disappeared with the idea of tracking them since the wind and heavy falling snow was in my favor. That move was the wrong move as instinct gave way to reason and instinct learned a lesson that day, never trust reason!
Elk don't reason, neither should the hunter. Elk follow instinct and the hunter learned the lesson.
Following instinct against reasons nagging voice I drop down circling left and cutting back right into their projected path the elk have finally beat me to their protective timberline, vanished softly into white covered waist deep salal brush, tall timber and scrub vine maple.
Country to deep for me to follow alone I retreat back to the landing, up and out to retrieve Ron. Later that day we cut their track again as they settled in dark timber and deep needle laden floors which completely absorb their tracks. Deciding to leave them we back out and plan a hunt for the next day.
We never saw them again, yet those three elk taught me so much in such a short time, enough to keep me satisfied for many camp fires to come.
Follow your instinct. Always!
