As mentioned in my previous post, I'm opening up my journal and giving a day-by-day account of my elk hunt this year. Click HERE for Day One.
DAY TWO at Elk Camp...
MORNING HUNT: Big Bull Meadow
Sunday, August 26
Troy slept in this morning due to a migraine, and Murphy's law hit. Every time someone skips out on a hunt, it is a guarantee that the hunting will be great! I don't know why this is, but it truly seems to happen that way. We ran into bulls this morning. Lots of them!
Upon reaching the lower end of the meadow just after sun up, we had elk come on top of us within 15 minutes. Todd was on the left side of the meadow, Allen in the middle nestled in the aspen trees, and I took the right flank, skirting the aspens. The bulls came up on the left and gave Todd a 30 yard broadside shot. After realizing that Todd shot one, we all regrouped and discussed what happened. He wasn't 100% sure of his shot placement; therefore, we wanted to give his bull some time to expire before beginning the tracking job.
We knew there were still bulls in the area, so we decided to sit still and see if someone else would get a shot. Unfortunately, it happened too fast once again and we were caught in the open meadow before getting set up. After a few rounds of everyone exchanging "Don't Move!", and all of the forceful whispers of "Rudy! Freeze. DON'T move. Rudy! Don't move!", the big guy above us went back to grazing and I attempted to move in closer. The problem? I was stuck in the sun and sticking out like a beacon in the open field - a bad situation for a bow hunter. I stood motionless and watched a magnificent bull taking his time in the field above, just out of bow range. Eventually he moved up above and never made his way down within shooting distance.
By this time, Todd was anxious to get on the blood trail. Lots of blood seemed to ensure that elk meat would be soon loaded in our packs. However, as any bowhunter knows, things can go south quickly if the trail runs dry, and unfortunately that is what happened. We searched all morning and into the afternoon. The blood trail dwindled down to one tiny blood drop on a rock in the middle of a field, and left us befuddled as to which way the bull went. After griding the area, we gave in to the idea that the blood trail had dried up. Either the bull would survive or make it miles from the last blood drop and end up feeding a lucky coyote or bear.
The evening hunt was non-existent today. However, Todd did end up filling his deer tag when a small buck wandered too close to camp. Backstraps on the grill seemed to lift our spirits that night!
From the Draw
A website devoted to sharing bowhunting stories. From the draw in the mountains to the draw on paper, the moments live on.