Happy New Year! Here we go!
Quick reply to Log:
This was a vanilla private land hunt in a secondary management zone. They stick with the previous tag allotment number (along with all the neighbors) when determining how many bulls they kill each year.
Last week it was brought to our attention that we'd have an opportunity to purchase one of these tags last minute. The season is any five consecutive days through the 31st. My brother is a head tennis coach at a small D1 school and has no time to outdoors in the fall or the spring. Or the summer really. We were going to kidnap him Christmas day after lunch and let him kill a bull (against his will maybe). That fell through. No big deal, and he wasn't broken up about it. They went back to their out of state home on Sunday.
But I have a supportive wife that likes to eat elk.
So Monday morning, my dad and I had one set of cattle to ship and a pile of chores to knock out, and we intended to leave after lunch. This wasn't any problem - cause if you stay ready you don't have to get ready. And throwing a rifle in the truck is much quicker than double checking all the crap I might possible need to bring on a bow hunt. It is the sometimes inflammatory and possible unvenerable 6.5 creedmoor.
We on the road. Lovely drive and make it to the old ranch house we're staying at around midnight. It just changed hands ownership wise so was a little spartan, but since it was in the teens all I needed was it to be warm.
We wake up early to zero visibility fog. I mean nadda. So we hang out and drink coffee and drive to a spot with service to make some work calls.
As the fog burns off we do a little sight seeing and then head over to the area that tag is good for. Morning is uneventful. Lot's of glassing. I have hunted this place before, so it doesn't take long to work through the usual suspects. We find a big herd of cows. Oh btw this is an ES tag. I am not too proud to whack one of those. Watch them for a while, but they're in a bit of an unassailable spot. No big deal, happy to have found some elk. We move on, hoping to find them later on in a better area.
Eventually, we have to run into town for some fuel and groceries. We weren't really on the grocery game because all we left with was cheese, tortillas, and booze.
Back out to the ranch and on the glass. We found another set (or maybe the same one from earlier) on top of a little mesa, mostly unassailable. I'm always happy to just watch elk. Keep glassing and am not turning up much, and its creeping closer to dark.
Skirting the back side of the aforementioned mesa, I catch a glance of a bull moving through the junipers on the southwest end. Hot damn!
We settle in glass for a bit and soon see he has four buddies with him. And they are all beat to hell. I've never hunted anywhere close to this late and it was pretty cool to see.
The southwest side has some horse shoe action and they're on the southern finger. We slip up the hill a bit on the SW finger across for them. They're milling about on the end of the finger right in the edge of the firs, above lots of rocks and brush. Dusk approaching I throw my pack down and stage my rifle while we try and decide which one the winner is. Truthfully I did not care, but with five there I thought we could make an effort to take the most mature or coolest one. Settled on one with a bigger body, but the most broken tines. A fighter! Or not maybe he just had a lot of heart.
Dad ranges him. "4something"... I don't remember, because about the time I settled, they climbed a little higher out of sight.
So we hop up and skirt up and around the inside of the horseshoe. They hadn't gone far. I was not fond of this shooting spot. Downhill rockslide shooting uphill a couple hundred feet. But after a few seconds of wallowing around (in a cactus or two at some point), I found a spot I was comfortable. Got my pack upright on a rock, my rifle settled, and me behind it. I even slipped some ear plugs in. Pretty sure I'm still sitting in a cactus. But I'm in the zone so no factor.
"388." (I been telling everyone 390 but you guys get the truth).
His vitals are obscured by the tip of a juniper so I need him to take a step in any direction but down. He does.
Initiate shot sequen-BANG! Surprise break. Felt good. I have decided I like rifles. The bullet hangs in the air a long time it felt like. Wondered if I missed. Wondered if the 143 eldx might bounce off of him.
Then a hallow WHUMP echoes across the canyon and he gives a big ol classic back kick.
He headed straight down in the brush and it would take us a bit to get up to where he was when we shot him. Dad was also ill equipped re: lights, pack, or even enough clothes for how cold it was getting. I felt good about the shot and didn't worry about leaving the bull overnight since it was going to be in the low teens. We high five, pack up, and make our way back to our old farm house.
Victuals wise we had both brought some summer sausage, and I brought four lbs of ground elk. I found some expired beans but since there were no women here...they're freaking canned beans.
We fancy.
Up early the next day to see it's cold and errythang is frozen. Good. Well maybe good I hope that bull isn't completely frozen.
Eventually make our way over to where they were meandering when I fired. We see no blood, but find his tracks in the snow.
I shot from right down there:
With no blood we get ready to grid out and work our way down in his general direction. Doesn't take long until we find him killed over about 50 yards away in a lovely spot for cutting him up.
We happy.
The bullet entered the top third of the golden triangle a few inches below the scapula and buried in the opposite shoulder bone. He ran downhill but I'm sad I couldn't see for how long...wasn't far though.
It is crisp and still and a great day for working on elk with my dad. I get a ham off and he goes to boning while I work on the shoulder. Get the ham and some rib meat in my pack and shoulder a shoulder and head down while pops continues working. It was maybe a five hundred yard ruck...and in the lovely sunshine. No big deal.
The stryker stikes.
By the time I make it back he's got the other quarters boned out and I'm headed back down.
The stryker strikes again!
I get back up and he's got the straps, neck meat, and head off. I pull out the tenders and get loaded back down. His pride wouldn't let him walk down not carrying anything, which offended my pride wanting to carry it all out myself. Fine. He carries the head down.
It is still cold as balls are we are able to stage everything in the shade, planning to drop him off on our way out in the morning. We spend the rest of the day sight seeing and glassing for elk.
Dinner is a little mo better, but we're still eating expired beans.
Wake up early the next day (yesterday) and do some more sightseeing, glassing, and chores. Had we had service and looked at the radar for the ride home we probably would have not lollygagged so much. We roll out after lunch. Dropped off some of the meat and the head locally on our way out.
This guy was laying on the ground...a recent KS archery muley. 11.5s for perspective. Gotdang is right.
We the roll out and catch the north end of all that crazy weather. We hit it worst in Wichita Falls right before it got nasty there and made it home in time to wish my wife happy new year. She was clonked out nursing a baby though so I don't think she really cared.
Good trip. No proofreads.
ETA: We check zeroes before heading into town day 1...I have read some stuff about Leupold tracking and wanted to alleviate some concerns there. I had the dial made up last year for an antelope hunt in the area and wanted to double check it at distance as well. Three precious rounds later, I was satisfied.