Always appreciate other people's posts, so I thought I'd make one about my bull this year.
I think the important message here, is that I'm starting to look like a guy who knows what he's doing, but I promise you I have no idea. This is my 4th archery bull. I'm now somehow one of those people that finds a way to kill an elk almost every year, but now that I'm approaching that lengendary status, I can also say I never enter the season confident, and always am surprised when it works out, espeially for archery.
We've got young kids at home and had to get my folks to come in and help my wife out so that I could take a week off and go, so stakes were high. I wait for this all year, and go figure I get sick the day I'm headed out for elk camp. Can't let that slow you down, but no sleep with a 3 month old baby at home, then no sleep and sick while elk hunting, all actually pairs quite well together, because your life already kind of sucks for a period.
Before I even made it to camp, one of our crew put down a 6x6 with a nice symetrical crown of kickers, so a 7x7. This is the biggest bull any of us had seen in our camp. He set the bar pretty high. I'd post, but I don't think he wants to and its not my story to tell.
If any of you watch the news, I'm a remote employee, and my company, which you may have heard of, announced a 5-day a week return to office, which doesn't immediately impact me, but does make me see that the future isn't bright for my continued remote employment. If there wasn't an emotional side to elk hunting it wouldn't even count. So I'm out there, family depending on me to do something, job and living situation newly in question, a big bull in camp, but not mine... there's a lot to talk to God about while you're out there getting chirped at by squirrels.
The week came and went, we had a few close encounters with spikes and raghorns, but the wind kept them all alive. Some windy/rainy days that shut down bugling, and some nice days where they don't make a peep for reasons only the elk understand. We worked our butts off, and had some glimmers of hope where we'd see or hear elk, but nobody could close the deal (3 of us left with tags after the one guy tagged out). The end of the week came, all of my friends wanted to get back to the west side early, and left Friday night and Sat morning, so I was on my own for the weekend.
Maybe it was being newly alone, and the culmination of a largely unsuccessful week for myself, but I was starting to feel a little down. My bike broke and I was either too dumb or too tired to fix it. Little things like my mouth call breaking really started to bug me. I went out for the evening hunt and the wind picked up. I half expected to return to find my tent struck by ligthning. All of this is easily spun in a positive way, but thats difficult to do when you've run a whole week on 4-5 hours of sleep at most. Then, the glimmer I was looking for.
The wind died, I ripped a bugle out over 15 year clearcut, and got a response, and then another. Two bulls, probably 800 yard apart, and me in the middle. I had about an hour of daylight left as I walked down into the cut, expectations honestly rather low. Going it solo, you really can't expect to call elk right do you, you need to call, and then move ahead and hope they go to where your call came from. I had done a sequence, and walked up probably 80 yards into an old skid trail in the 15 year cut, with about a 30 yard lane about 6' wide above and below me, when I heard some twigs breaking inside of 50 yards. I knew he was coming, even though he'd stopped bugling, but would he find me; would he walk into my lane?
A 15 minute silent standoff led to me losing light fast enough that I couldn't outwait him. I very quietly snapped two twigs and let out a VERY shy cow call. That did the trick, and he walked in front of my 30 yard tree, slightly quartering to. I had a nice checklist in mind that I was going to execute on... this is my 4th archery bull, you'd think I'd be able to calm myself and execute. Nope. Like usual, I saw movement through the brush, drew, he showed up, and I went full instinct. Pull the pins up, aimed center of body vertically (not my plan), and behind the shoulder a bit too far for quartering to, and flung my arrrow.
I knew I hit him, but didn't know where. Couldn't find the arrow, but it was brushy and my fletching isn't that bright. Darkness was coming. I gave him 20 min, and tried to find blood prior to the sun departing, to at least gather his direction. About 50 yards from the shot, I found the first blood, it looked pretty good. I backed out and called my dad, who was with mom watching my kids. He graciously agreed to come down and help me look/pack. Another good friend in the area also came to help look, which was I very grateful to have support in, espeically in the dark.
By the time we got up there, it was midnight, we hiked up from an open road to the closed road he had been on, and dad, at 64, was a champ. Up a very steep 200 vertical feet, he came with me in the dark. Blood only ran for maybe 70 yards, before we lost his direction in an opening in the old cut. A lower road provided the next clue after an hour or so of looking. Dad remarked that he'd checked the bank 100 yards in each direction, and this was the only fresh track down to the road. I checked, and noticed what looked like some gut bile on a strawberry leaf... not ideal but at least we had a path. We crossed the road on the fresh track, and into the next section... 20 yards down that hill, I thought I heard something. Heavy breathing. Was it him, or a sleeping bear? We're now 6 hours post shot or more. Dad can't hear a thing anymore and was no use in confirming what I thought I heard. I peeked around the corner, and there was antler, sticking out of the grass, right where the heavy breathing was coming from. I had no bow, and figured popping a wounded elk with a pistol in archery season was probably going to land me in some hot water, so we backed out to let him expire on his own.
We returned in the morning, he was in the same spot and expired, only 180 yards from the shot. Very relieved to have found him, very happy to have my dad by my side for the recovery, and quite thankful to have a strong glimmer of the hope I was so desperately seeking all week. This is my 4th archery bull, I'm delighted to have him and the feeling of accomplishment that I get from doing what seems impossible. Each bull is different, the first archery bull was "OMG, I can't believe it actually worked", whereas this one felt more like confirmation, redemption, and hope for the future. Each one is the culmination of many experiences, learning, equipment and support via friends and family.
For any of you who made it this far, who are either a better or worse elk hunter than I am, I hope the story brings you something to relate to and ideally inspires a bit of hope. Keep grinding, not every shot is perfect, and there's a balance of good and bad news in the world, just don't be too surprised when the pendulum swings in the alternate direction. I still have no idea what I'm doing, but have managed to find success most recent years. I need the recharge to hold me over the next 51 weeks where I can build up the fitness, excitment, and gear I need for 2025. Hopefully I can help some of my buddies fill their tags or pack their meat in return.
