Elk Success
Most hunting trips to the high country I call successful even if I don't get a shot. Sometimes it ends up being just armed camping, but I love being in the cool mountains when the elk are bugling and the yellow aspen quaking. But this weekend's hunt was a success by any standard.
Four years ago when I had another cow elk tag near Hannagan Meadows I had sprung a lot of elk, but they were all bulls. Thanks to my friend Kelly, this time we had a good tip on a location. A coworker and I trailered two mules to Alpine a couple days before the hunt. There were bull and cow elk bugling every few minutes all night long, some within a few hundred yards of our tent the first night. These high-pitched wails, ending in echoing roars and grunts remind me of a Jurassic Park movie. Though the sounds are not quite that ancient, they have been heard in these mountains for a few hundred thousand years. The next morning we made a few scouting hikes into roadside areas I had hunted before. We heard a cow but as there was not much sign we decided to make a wilderness hunt where Kelly suggested.
We saddled Phoebe and Cricket and loaded as much camping and hunting equipment that we could fit in backpacks and saddlebags. The trail was barely maintained and a fire had obscured even more markings. Fortunately about 1/4 mile from a junction we needed to find we encountered a young trail crew. They told us what to look for and if they had not we would have missed it. Many aspen and some fir were down across the tiny trail, but we found our way through the mess to our destination. It was a beautiful meadow about 75 yards wide and 200 yards long. In the center was a bog with several deep wallows surrounded by elk prints. This would be a good place to be the next morning when shooting became legal.
As we rode into the meadow several bulls were bugling from the aspen forest on all sides. That sound combined with all the scents made Cricket quite nervous. After a couple feeble bucks I decided to dismount and lead her through to find a secluded camp on the other side of the meadow. She is the wildest of my three mules in the saddle, but is the one I know will pack. I didn't know how she would handle packing meat.
At dusk that evening we tiptoed around our half of the perimeter as the bugling got closer and closer. Finally Frank spotted a huge bull followed by 5-6 cows and calves. This bull's incessant bugling was due to another competing bull circling the harem. We watched barely 50 yards from them as they all wallowed in the mud and drank their daily water. When the two bulls began fighting we retreated to our hidden camp to the sounds of their clattering antlers.
Before dawn we sneaked to the same viewpoint and waited for the light to come up. Again, there were bugling bulls everywhere, but it sounded further away than before. Even in the moonlight it was apparent there were no grazing elk in the bog. The action sounded like it was beyond the downhill tip of the field, where the forest closed back in on the seep. While it was still dark we could quietly skirt the meadow in the grass. Fortunately I took one last look at the meadow through my decent binoculars. There was a black stump in the middle of one of the puddles that I didn't remember being there in the light. I looked closer and used a trick I'd learned at sea in the Navy; look to the side of what you think you see in the dark, not directly at it. The stump began looking like it had branches arcing upward. It was a bull laying in the water in the dark. It was probably the outcast bull, and it was between the noisy herd and us. As the dawn grey began to break, it silently stood up, sloshed it's antlers in the water a couple times, and took a few steps towards us. We were barely in the forest edge, only obscured by the dark and a knee-high spruce. Very slowly he changed direction and walked across to the forest on the other side.
After about 10 minutes I was pretty sure the elk had moved over the ridge, using it as a shortcut to the herd. I planned to follow a similar path because I didn't know the layout at the end of the field. I thought there might be a connecting field with a little forest in between. If we walked through the connection and there were elk in there, we'd be spotted.
As we quickly walked through the middle of the frozen bog I hoped no more sentinels were around to see us in the breaking sunlight. We began our accent though deadfall of an old burn. There were still plenty of live conifers and aspen to hide us as we huffed in the thin air at 9,000 feet. The bugling sounds were getting closer. I anticipated cresting the ridge and being able to see the elk below on the other side. Suddenly I saw the face of an animal above me between the aspen and Christmas trees. Frank saw them at the same time, four or five cow elk were 100 yards above us looking down. They seemed to sense us, but hadn't spotted us. Thankfully we had stopped moving exactly when we came into view. I couldn't lower my binocs for several seconds until they were all obscured by trees, then I swapped it for my rifle. I fire a single-shot, so I had to make it good. One good-sized cow stood broadside but was hidden from the midpoint down by grass and the slope of the hill. Another appeared broadside and I fired quickly offhand. I mentally called the shot; it felt right on. We scrambled straight up to where she had been standing and I spotted her a couple yards away. I said some kind words and we started the real work. It was one hour into hunting season.
The grueling work of skinning and quartering took until noon, without Frank's help I would have been there for days. We spend the rest of the day riding back to the trailhead to get the packsaddle, supplies and rigging from the truck. The next day we walked in leading the Cricket with her packsaddle and Phoebe. The meat was safe and untouched after a cold night below freezing. Cricket showed no concern for the 4 elk quarters and we packed up the camp and the elk and made one trip out. The meat was back in Alpine in a refrigerator trailer by 2:00 the day after I made the shot. There were many turns of events that lead to the success of this hunt, but these are the high points. It was a grand adventure.
Four years ago when I had another cow elk tag near Hannagan Meadows I had sprung a lot of elk, but they were all bulls. Thanks to my friend Kelly, this time we had a good tip on a location. A coworker and I trailered two mules to Alpine a couple days before the hunt. There were bull and cow elk bugling every few minutes all night long, some within a few hundred yards of our tent the first night. These high-pitched wails, ending in echoing roars and grunts remind me of a Jurassic Park movie. Though the sounds are not quite that ancient, they have been heard in these mountains for a few hundred thousand years. The next morning we made a few scouting hikes into roadside areas I had hunted before. We heard a cow but as there was not much sign we decided to make a wilderness hunt where Kelly suggested.
We saddled Phoebe and Cricket and loaded as much camping and hunting equipment that we could fit in backpacks and saddlebags. The trail was barely maintained and a fire had obscured even more markings. Fortunately about 1/4 mile from a junction we needed to find we encountered a young trail crew. They told us what to look for and if they had not we would have missed it. Many aspen and some fir were down across the tiny trail, but we found our way through the mess to our destination. It was a beautiful meadow about 75 yards wide and 200 yards long. In the center was a bog with several deep wallows surrounded by elk prints. This would be a good place to be the next morning when shooting became legal.
As we rode into the meadow several bulls were bugling from the aspen forest on all sides. That sound combined with all the scents made Cricket quite nervous. After a couple feeble bucks I decided to dismount and lead her through to find a secluded camp on the other side of the meadow. She is the wildest of my three mules in the saddle, but is the one I know will pack. I didn't know how she would handle packing meat.
At dusk that evening we tiptoed around our half of the perimeter as the bugling got closer and closer. Finally Frank spotted a huge bull followed by 5-6 cows and calves. This bull's incessant bugling was due to another competing bull circling the harem. We watched barely 50 yards from them as they all wallowed in the mud and drank their daily water. When the two bulls began fighting we retreated to our hidden camp to the sounds of their clattering antlers.
Before dawn we sneaked to the same viewpoint and waited for the light to come up. Again, there were bugling bulls everywhere, but it sounded further away than before. Even in the moonlight it was apparent there were no grazing elk in the bog. The action sounded like it was beyond the downhill tip of the field, where the forest closed back in on the seep. While it was still dark we could quietly skirt the meadow in the grass. Fortunately I took one last look at the meadow through my decent binoculars. There was a black stump in the middle of one of the puddles that I didn't remember being there in the light. I looked closer and used a trick I'd learned at sea in the Navy; look to the side of what you think you see in the dark, not directly at it. The stump began looking like it had branches arcing upward. It was a bull laying in the water in the dark. It was probably the outcast bull, and it was between the noisy herd and us. As the dawn grey began to break, it silently stood up, sloshed it's antlers in the water a couple times, and took a few steps towards us. We were barely in the forest edge, only obscured by the dark and a knee-high spruce. Very slowly he changed direction and walked across to the forest on the other side.
After about 10 minutes I was pretty sure the elk had moved over the ridge, using it as a shortcut to the herd. I planned to follow a similar path because I didn't know the layout at the end of the field. I thought there might be a connecting field with a little forest in between. If we walked through the connection and there were elk in there, we'd be spotted.
As we quickly walked through the middle of the frozen bog I hoped no more sentinels were around to see us in the breaking sunlight. We began our accent though deadfall of an old burn. There were still plenty of live conifers and aspen to hide us as we huffed in the thin air at 9,000 feet. The bugling sounds were getting closer. I anticipated cresting the ridge and being able to see the elk below on the other side. Suddenly I saw the face of an animal above me between the aspen and Christmas trees. Frank saw them at the same time, four or five cow elk were 100 yards above us looking down. They seemed to sense us, but hadn't spotted us. Thankfully we had stopped moving exactly when we came into view. I couldn't lower my binocs for several seconds until they were all obscured by trees, then I swapped it for my rifle. I fire a single-shot, so I had to make it good. One good-sized cow stood broadside but was hidden from the midpoint down by grass and the slope of the hill. Another appeared broadside and I fired quickly offhand. I mentally called the shot; it felt right on. We scrambled straight up to where she had been standing and I spotted her a couple yards away. I said some kind words and we started the real work. It was one hour into hunting season.
The grueling work of skinning and quartering took until noon, without Frank's help I would have been there for days. We spend the rest of the day riding back to the trailhead to get the packsaddle, supplies and rigging from the truck. The next day we walked in leading the Cricket with her packsaddle and Phoebe. The meat was safe and untouched after a cold night below freezing. Cricket showed no concern for the 4 elk quarters and we packed up the camp and the elk and made one trip out. The meat was back in Alpine in a refrigerator trailer by 2:00 the day after I made the shot. There were many turns of events that lead to the success of this hunt, but these are the high points. It was a grand adventure.
posted by Garrett | 1:35 PM
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