After several scouting trips and lots of prep for a backpacking hunt at elevation, our day to head into the woods came last Tuesday. We knew we were going to get some snow, but the trip into camp was a pretty good dumping on and off, and our camp spot had four of five inches of snow by the time we made it there near dark.
We spent the first night and opening morning “surviving” more than hunting. Trying to thaw our water filter, gaiters, muzzleloader and hands.
Eventually, opening day we got to hunting, but the only elk we saw was a six point with some cows in the evening. He was relatively stationary at 215 yards- but I didn’t like his location, or more so where he could end up if I didn’t anchor him, and I was not super confident with my rest for a shot that would have been the very outside of my range.
The second day we got a much earlier start, and when the sun started hitting the hills, we found some elk scattered around the distant country we could glass. There was nothing that satisfied the ratio of effort/quality of elk, so we went back to camp without any closer encounters.
We had covered some different ground and we were able to make a more streamlined plan for Friday morning with what we learned the first two days.
Friday morning we were heading up to our saddle where we wanted to spot from, when my buddy five yards behind me starts whisper-shouting “shooter bull, shooter bull.”
I was immediately sitting on the game trail putting out my bi-pod as I got eyes on him. He didn’t know we were there and our wind was good. He was at 192 yards, but side-hilling and feeding towards us on the opposite hillside.
For a tortuous few moments he walked up the hill, stopping for several seconds at times in places where he was in plain, shootable view for my buddy (no tag), but completely blocked from view for me. My buddy was close enough that he couldn’t understand why I wasn’t dropping the hammer, so he was getting fairly antsy.
He finally stopped with a portion of his body out from behind a tree. He needed to take one more step, but as the wind shifted slightly, I knew we were in trouble. He had worked his way almost directly up draw from us. In doing so he had gotten to 142 yard away, but also inline with the brisk, swirling breeze. I watched his antlers swing and square up as he locked in on us. I was rock steady on the bi pod, shoulder in the hillside, knew my ballistics and touched off the shot.
On the white, snow covered hillside it was very “evident” immediately from 150-200 yards that he was not going to make it off that hillside and out of eyesight. He did not go far.
I trusted my buddy knew what I thought a “shooter” was and never put my glass on him until after several minutes of reloading, keeping the gun ready in case he presented or needed another shot, etc. When I finally saw him with my binos and put my hands on him, I was very excited. For sure my biggest bull.
The pack out with two of us was not as bad as it could have been (4.5 miles and 2000’ of elevation gain on the way in, plus 6 miles to get camp out), but was still brutal spread out over 2.5 days.
But it was very gratifying to have it all out and cooled. A big thanks to those here that offered tips and compared notes! And a huge thanks to my friend for helping bring the whole trip together!! It was a great, arduous, successful adventure!
