Note: This is the short version. The long version includes weather that was too hot, moving camp locations several times and a lot of sweating.
My brother and I decided to do what I would consider one of the hardest hunts there is: DIY wilderness elk hunt in an area we’ve never been before. Pack everything in and out on your back.
We went to the White River National Forest in Colorado. After about a week of hunting and our third major location change, we finally got a break with the weather and the bulls started making noise.
We had a few close calls where there was either too much brush in the way or got busted by cows. It finally all came together on evening of 9/14.
We were in the river bottom of the White River, and we could hear (but not see) a bull on the other side. We determined his direction of travel and found a place ahead of him that was obviously a major river crossing area for elk.
We set up and started cow-calling. He would answer, but not really get much closer. I was back a bit behind a big spruce, and my brother was about 30 yards closer to the river bank.
We were about ready to give up when we heard a different bull (also on the opposite side of the river) coming from the other direction. We kept calling, and the two bulls kept screaming at each other until they came together almost exactly at the river crossing area. One bull and his cows got pushed down the crossing. I saw one cow come out, so I drew and waited. The first cow came across and up our side of the river bank. Then here comes the bull on a gallop with a bright green luminock sticking out of his side. He was 20 yards and turned and ran right at me. I let one fly, and he turned and made it about another 15 yards before flopping over.
Turns out my brother had actually zipped the first one through him on the other side of the river, and the luminock I saw was his second shot. Both perfect double lung shots probably 3 inches apart. Never seen anything like it. His second shot, (not to mention my shot) were a bit unnecessary, but we learned long ago to keep shooting until the animal is down or out of range.
We boned it out in the dark and in the middle of a brief thunderstorm. Hauling the meat out was a miserable experience that I will not detail here. Suffice to say it was 1.6 miles back to our camp (including about 800ft of elevation climb) and then another 5+ miles back to the truck (luckily mostly downhill). There were multiple times where I thought either my heart would explode or I’d tear an ACL.
All in all an amazing trip.
My brother and I decided to do what I would consider one of the hardest hunts there is: DIY wilderness elk hunt in an area we’ve never been before. Pack everything in and out on your back.
We went to the White River National Forest in Colorado. After about a week of hunting and our third major location change, we finally got a break with the weather and the bulls started making noise.
We had a few close calls where there was either too much brush in the way or got busted by cows. It finally all came together on evening of 9/14.
We were in the river bottom of the White River, and we could hear (but not see) a bull on the other side. We determined his direction of travel and found a place ahead of him that was obviously a major river crossing area for elk.
We set up and started cow-calling. He would answer, but not really get much closer. I was back a bit behind a big spruce, and my brother was about 30 yards closer to the river bank.
We were about ready to give up when we heard a different bull (also on the opposite side of the river) coming from the other direction. We kept calling, and the two bulls kept screaming at each other until they came together almost exactly at the river crossing area. One bull and his cows got pushed down the crossing. I saw one cow come out, so I drew and waited. The first cow came across and up our side of the river bank. Then here comes the bull on a gallop with a bright green luminock sticking out of his side. He was 20 yards and turned and ran right at me. I let one fly, and he turned and made it about another 15 yards before flopping over.
Turns out my brother had actually zipped the first one through him on the other side of the river, and the luminock I saw was his second shot. Both perfect double lung shots probably 3 inches apart. Never seen anything like it. His second shot, (not to mention my shot) were a bit unnecessary, but we learned long ago to keep shooting until the animal is down or out of range.
We boned it out in the dark and in the middle of a brief thunderstorm. Hauling the meat out was a miserable experience that I will not detail here. Suffice to say it was 1.6 miles back to our camp (including about 800ft of elevation climb) and then another 5+ miles back to the truck (luckily mostly downhill). There were multiple times where I thought either my heart would explode or I’d tear an ACL.
All in all an amazing trip.
