2009 Elk Camp!!!

[cascademountainhunter]

good luck to ya guys! wish i could skip school! ill have to wait for next weekend...

[Pathfinder101]

CoryTDF has a secret he's not teeeeeeeelllllliiiiiinnnnnnnggggggg........

[Woodchuck]

come on pathfinder, spill it, he is gone right now, he will never know 

[GoldTip]

OK pathfinder, spill your guts, no fair to come on with something like that and not spill it......

[Pathfinder101]

Can't.  I don't have any pics.  (He didn't have a big bull tag if that's what you are wondering..)

[CoryTDF]

Ok, for those of you that are wondering what the secret is well........... you will just have to wait. I'm going to show you a few pictures first. As i mentioned before i had to butcher my deer before camp. Well i finished that up and then went to set up camp. Here are a few pictures of that.

[CoryTDF]

Well, its a little late. I'll get the rest of the story in tomorrow. I'll fill ya'll in on the secret

[Aperson]

thats not a camp, thats a field base, with luxuries.

[Pathfinder101]

thats not a camp, thats a field base, with luxuries.

THat's what you get when you take a half dozen military and ex-military guys, put them in one camp, and give them a year between elk seasons to plan...

[MichaelJ]

That backstrap looks REALLY big for a deer's backstrap but it may just be me or the picture or a combination of both!

Michael

[Pathfinder101]

That backstrap looks REALLY big for a deer's backstrap

Michael

That's cause he's "long arming" it...

[CoryTDF]

I typed out my story last night it kinda took me a little bit i'll post when i get home.

[CoryTDF]

Okay,
before i show the story i'll show off a few of the bulls i saw during the season.

[CoryTDF]

one more!!

[CoryTDF]

                                                               MY ELK
5:30 AM my dream world is shattered by the ever so familiar "Beep….Beep…Beep" of an alarm clock. The cool morning air greats me as a throw back the sleeping bag and step out of bed. My motions are familiar and fluid as I go through the routine of preparing for a morning hunt. At 6:00 AM my back pack finds its place on my shoulders and the walk begins. My plan if one would like to call it that. Was not really a plan at all. I had hit a point where I ran out of ideas and was in the never-ending struggle to decide " what now". The only method that is suitable for moment like this is “the dart board method". which is basically to throw a dart at a map and walk there. Not to be taken literally of course, but you get the idea.
        I left out of camp and walked to a draw that filters into a much larger canyon where Pathfinder101 and I had watched a rang horn bull walk out a few weeks earlier. As I walked the road that follows the lip of the draw I bumped a few whitetails " not to worry" I thought as I listen to them move deeper into the wood line " I have already filled that tag" and with that I continued to large canyon. The road I was walking ended and I decided that now was as good a time as any to go through this draw and make my way to the edge of the big canyon to glass. While walking through the bottom I noticed that this area looked like the equivalent of the elk version of Bastogne. Small saplings where stripped of there bark and left naked and ill-equipped to face the winter cold. Branches where broken and brush was thrown everywhere no doubt caused by a massive testosterone powered nine hundred pound horn grenade. The trees are simply collateral damage in this war of dominance. They will forever bare the scars.
        7:00 AM I am sitting on the lip of the canyon looking into a stand of old burnt timber. The first thing I noticed was a cow walking uphill toward a slash pile on the opposite side. My excitement is amplified by the unmistakable sound of a bugle. As I sat and count the elk in front of me I notice a few more cows about two hundred yards to the right of the herd I was looking at. When my binoculars come into focus my mouth drops and all think is " Wow" as a monster bull comes into view. I instantly know him because of his unique bugle which sounds more like a growl completely absent of a whistle. This bull has be an elusive jackal to me for the last three years. At last I can put horns to that ungodly sound.
7:10 I make the decision to try and get to the other side of the canyon and try to get one of the herd cows. I slip off the log I have been glassing from and start back to camp. The mile long walk back to camp seems to take a lifetime. My leg muscles are screaming at me and my lungs burn as they are being pushed to their limit. Once back at camp I drop everything that I know I will not need and take a bath in scent eliminating spray. I climb onto the four wheeler and drive it down the road to the edge of the clear cut and old burn. I Jumped of the quad and start walking as fast as my fatigued legs will carry me. The sound of my panting is drowning out everything else and I can hear my heart pounding. As I near the slash piles I slow my pace to a creep. My plan is to hunt for the second herd that I spotted while on the other side. My plan was interrupted by the sound of a broken twig to my right side which consequently also happens to be edge of the canyon. I knocked an arrow and crept over to see what I heard. “Elk!" I thought, as the first cow slipped out of view at 65 yards. "and I almost walked right past them.  Too far." I told my self, and for a moment thought that I had just missed my opportunity. I took about half step forward farther down the side and saw a set of ears. Like molasses my hand moved to my rangefinder, everything but my heart beat must be slow now, she is at fifty three yards. " I can make this shot" " I practice this all the time" I said to myself as I clipped my release to my string. A small stump, left by loggers years ago who could have never known it would assist me in harvesting my elk, grew just six inches from my left foot. I stepped up onto the stump and three elk came into view. It was an easy decision to choose which of them I would shoot. The problem was now that the big cow only offer me a hind quarter shot and that was not an option. In this moment before any hunter is to make the shot they have been waiting for is a magical one to say the least. It’s like combining that feeling before you lean in for a first kiss with scoring the winning point, and the adrenalin of being startled. The human body goes through such a drastic change in those fleeting moments it is difficult to imagine how the shot is ever made. I to felt all of this as I stood on the stump waiting for this cow to give me a shot. The rang finder reads fifty three yards
one last time and with that she turns and offers me a quartering away shot. I draw my bow and rest my pin in the proper place for a quartering away shot. My heart is pounding in my ears “swish….swish……swish” I fight to control my nerves and let the arrow fly. For the first time this year I am instantly unhappy with my shot. It has landed a little father back than I would have liked. However, because I have done my homework and have a decent knowledge of the vital organs of my quarry I deduce that this will eventually be a kill shot as the arrow is most defiantly in the liver. I back out slowly and head back to camp to give the cow time to expire.
At camp I wait anxiously for friends to return. The first to arrive is robrunwild along with our other friend Mike. I fill them in and we head out to search for my elk. 9:30 AM we arrive at the stump where my arrow was launched. I knew that “if” there was a blood trail it was going to be sparse and this was going to be more of a strategic search of a extremely steep hill side. Rob is already cussing me for the descent into hell that we are about to undertake. After walking up, down, and all around I find myself alone in the dead bottom of the canyon. My radio squawks and another familiar voice is heard. Greg, another member of my camp has brought the remaining two, Clyde, and Doug who are now sitting at the top by the slash piles. Greg radios to me that he will be waiting at the top until we find blood or other sign. Well, it is safe to say that at this point I am completely exhausted and very discouraged. I radio to Greg and tell him that I am coming back up to try and rework the blood. Up I climb each step more a struggle than the last stopping to rest about every ten feet. I looked up the hill and chose a tree “ I’ll walk to that one and rest” I said. Four feet later I was to behold a sight that would make me forget all about my tired body. I stood and looked up at the body of a cow lying in the hole where a tree had once been. Whooohooooooo…….. I screamed as climbed the twenty feet like it was two. As I stood over my kill and waited for everybody to get to me I was alighted. The first to reach me was my Mike.  He helped me take a few photos and marvel at the beautiful animal in front of us. The next to arrive was Greg, Clyde, and Doug. With most of the crew with me it was time to adjust the elk so I could began to field dress it. With the first heave it became very apparent that we needed to tie her off. The hillside was very steep and if we pulled her to far out of the hole, well, lets just say Satan would have been eating elk meat. Greg held the leg and I went to work with my knife. With my first incision the pressure immediately pushed out some of the intestine and in a foolish moment I allowed my knife to knick it. An audible squish noise forced a concoction of green paste half way up my arm. "Here it comes boys" I said as I turned my head to scrunch my face and gagged. As I kept cutting up to the diaphragm I could see that the liver shot left something to be desired and I was greeted immediately with the overpowering smell. “I hate liver I thought as I reached up to cut the esophagus. As I rolled the guts out onto the ground I was amazed to see how well they rolled. Gravity assisted me in making sure they were plenty far out of my way. Now it is time to quarter the animal. Lucky for me I have half dozen experienced hunters with me and all the help I could want. We made short work of the quartering process. Looking at the rib cage I realized that I had not pulled the ivory so I bent down and grabbed the head. The teeth came out easy enough. When I looked up everybody but Doug was already heading up the hill with packs on. I helped Doug load his and looked around. There were no more packs. "Wait” I called to Doug " let me take that" Doug a hardened outdoorsman who's pride would not allow him to accept my offer told me he could handle it. As we climbed up the hill I must have asked him over a dozen times to let me take the pack. The answer was always the same" I got it" he said. I informed him that when we reached the top I was going to catch hell from the whole crew for not packing out any of my own elk. Through his panting he chuckled and continued up the hill. After almost three hours our feet finally hit flat ground. Greg took the pack from Doug and I helped load it in the truck. In the back of the truck was a small Colman cooler and in that cooler were ice cold "Barley Pops" six of them to be exact. Each of our right hands grasps an ice cold beer as we stand on a road and reflect. The first to speak is Rob “Pretty nice that you didn't even have to pack your own elk"! My head fell and I looked at the ground " I was wondering who was going to be the first to say that" I said. We all had a laugh, finished our beer, and climbed in the truck. At camp I transferred the meat and headed off the mountain giddy as a school girl and flat out exhausted, despite the fact that I didn’t carry a pack. At home I was greeted by a very exited mommy and baby girl. Hugs and kisses were in abundance and then it was off to a well deserved shower. My 2009 elk season was over and I had just killed my first elk. As I sit in the shower I let the warm water hit my face my thoughts wonder back through the last ten days Sep 1st bear, September 2nd buck, September 10th Elk, 1…2…3, it truly has been an epic hunting season for me. I have been blessed in so many ways. I am blessed with an understanding wife who allows me to pursue my passion, blessed with a group of friends that are willing to help when things are really tough, and blessed with opportunities to fill my tags and my freezer. The love of the outdoors and hunting binds every fiber of my being and to have a web of people around me who can embrace and share in my passion is a feeling so good and so pure it is completely unrivaled. Thanks to those who took the time to read this I'm sure you can relate. It is up to us to share our stories and keep the sport we love alive for as long as we can.