Well here's the story, shorter than usual this time. I think know I'm getting spoiled.
I've got two young kids and another on the way. My friends are in similar positions. Getting out hunting and staying married is hard for all of us. This year I was able to get out with one of my childhood buddies who hasn't made an elk season is probably a decade. He's a WA resident, so the Idaho tag is a big expense for him (and everyone else). He mentioned, "if I don't get one, its going to be really hard to justify the expense in the future". One of the things he probably failed to see, is that just the very act of getting out with your good friends once a year, or heck, even once every 10 years, is what its about, and if it cost $10k I might still do it just for that. Regardless, I worked hard to get him an opportunity during archery. He had two. One he missed, and the other his peep was 90 degress off and he couldn't see. I almost had an opportunity at a 6 pt, but he didn't come the probably 10 extra steps that were needed and left me hanging at 30 yards after 5 min. We saw bulls every day, didn't fill a tag, had chances, spent time with great old friends, 10/10 experience, 0/10 harvest.
My normal elk buddy (also a childhood friend) couldn't make archery this year due to some family challenges, but he could make the rifle season. You should've seen me explaining to my wife why a different season with a different friend was reasonable. Still, for the same reason as before, its the one time we get to spend time and recharge every year. Its necessary, and at nearly any cost. I think we need this time, to talk to each other, talk to God, talk to squirrels and woodpeckers. If I didn't have time, what would I spend the rest of my year thinking about and looking forward to?
In any case, we loaded up for late october elk, after the main rifle season pounded them for 2 weeks, and took our chances. First day, we were slammed with the atmospheric river, lovely. We were riding our bikes in, and actually rode far too close to a spike with a cow at daylight, before noticing it. The spike took off any my buddy went around this little island of a mountain we were one and I stayed in pursuit. He actually nearly had a shot, and a pair of quads blew up the entire thing. We needed to get further from other people, this is Idaho after all, battle hunting is not the norm.
We went to our next best spot, where we ALWAYS find animals, and worked our butts off to see one lone cow at about 600 yards. And then, another trove of hunters, road hunting the socks off this place.
It is worth noting here that I've been trying to turn a 338-378 into a capable long range weapon for the last two years. I'd say I'm very deadly out to 600 yards, could be further in good conditions. My 280 grain bullet is north of 5300 ft-lbs at the muzzle. We were looking for long opportunities that are out of reach with other weapons.
Then we got frustrated and decided to head deep to where the roads end and the wilderness begins (not true wilderness, but vast roadless area). Up there we saw the forecast for 1" of snow, which we thought would be great. He has a truck camper and I have a trailer with a RZR 900 Trail with tire chains, so we are ready to stay and hunt wherever. Our first hunt that evening we went out on a brushy finger, and we both did separate loops. We didn't encounter much sign, and normally do. We decided to spend the night, and woke up to 6" of snow. Perfect. We drove the last road looking for tracks, and I dumped my buddy off at a fresh set. I tried to jump in about 1000 yards away to walk in and try to head off the direction the tracks were going. As soon as I got into my hole of a walk, I received his in-reach that the trail he was on actually turned and went back across the road, up into some beautiful timber. I was jealous that he was having a great hunt, and I was over my head in willows in a burn. I bailed, and walked back through some really thick stuff, to get to the RZR and do a little road hunting for different fresh tracks. I found nothing. When I came back to get him around 11, I decided to glass across a large burn while I waited. Over 2 miles away, in a small rock slide, I saw what looked like bedded elk. I busted out the spotter, and noticed that they were indeed 4 elk, and one was a spike! This was VERY near the finger walk we had taken the night before, and was a good 1.5 hours in. I wasn't even sure we'd be able to get close because it was steep, full of willows and bushes (old burn) and I couldnl't tell if the ridge beyond would provide line of sight into our little slide area. We did the 1.5 hour walk to get there, and the wind was blowing PERFECTLY, in the wrong direction. We had no vis, wind was wrong, and super steep noisy bushes between us an our target, now nearly 3 hours since the original sighting.
Then, things changed, we heard a cow call not super far below us. We decided to cow call back, figuring we had nothing to lose. We were met with a BUGLE! Spikes don't bugle, at least not like that. So we crept down, made a ton of noise, slipped 2x and luckily didn't get hurt. I could almost see an opening coming up and I was in the lead by 40 yards. I looked up and SWORE I saw an elk chest in a narrow opening through the bushes. Signaled my buddy to stop, and stared trying to get better vis, but it was only 60 yards away. Eventually, I was able to duck and see what looked like stubs of antlers coming out of its head, and saw a butt, and was pretty sure I was indeed looking at an elk. After about a 2 min standoff, with me kind of pinned, I positioned myself just right to see him turn his head and the white tips of antlers. WE WERE IN! I put my ear plugs in, and settled the 338-378 right on his chest about 6-8" up into the dark mane and let it fly. He ran off to the right, I kind of expected him to drop right there if I hit him. I took 5-10 steps to the left, and saw an elk butt about 30 yards down from where I shot, in the ground on the snow. YIPPEE! I didn't know how big he was until I got down there, and actually this unit is known for being a high 6 point producer... but... (and here's where I sound like a jerk)... it was JUST a 5. You've heard of Cinque Terre, the Italian tourist destination. I think my nickname should be Cinque Terror, not because I'm Italian, I'm not, but I do seem to have a knack for shooting 5 points. What I'd give for a 6! Either way, I'm estatic to have had such a great opportunity on a beautiful bull. That shot was devastating, copper bullet, obliterated the top of heart and lungs. No meat damage, huge success there.
The first packout trip was the worst in my life. I think we did 1600' vertical and 2-2.5 miles. The pack the second day with just the boned out hind quarter was pretty easy, so I'm thinking that first hike out must have been north of an 80lb pack, because it HURT. In any case, we made it. Friends and hunting buddies forgetting about the perils of our normal lives for a moment to do the most primal thing we could think of. My buddy took the heart (what was left of it) and tongue back for his boys, which I can't believe we packed out of there.
What a wonderful thing this life is. We're so fortunate to be able to hunt and enjoy the outdoors the way we do and have the friends we have.
