One Morning, One Arrow

The week started out with the goal to find a mature bull moose for 1 of the 5 moose tag holders for the area. I was looking forward to some alone time on the mountain, looking over country, having my camera at my side and potentially finding a mature bull for the following weeks client. The first two days were spent putting miles under the wheels of the side by side as my eyes were glued to the swampy willows and the edges of the dark timber. As I was driving back towards the ranch the afternoon of day two, my side by side overheated and there I was along the side of the road. A white ford with Minnesota plates came along and pulled over when he saw the small hood of the side by side up. He asked me if I was all good and I informed him I was just waiting for it to cool down and then we got to talking about elk and how some were screaming their faces off and others were quiet in the pressured areas. He informed me they heard a moose calling while hunting a drainage so I decided to spend the evening glassing that area. I thanked him for pulling over and for the intel on the moose and continued about my day. Later that evening as I was glassing, I heard a bugle come from across the drainage just above some campgrounds. I turned and pulled up the binos and somehow, luckily landed right where they were feeding out to. I put the spotting scope on the herd and watched the herd bull chase off two satellite bulls all while keeping his cows in check. I instantly got fomo (fear of missing out) wishing I could drop what I was doing and run up the mountain towards them. That night I laid down in bed dreaming about chasing bugles and hoped by next week when I was guiding again that they would still be fired up.

The next morning as I sipped on coffee letting the caffeine to kick in, Fredy came into the dinning area of the lodge and informed me that the moose hunter had shot a bull and that my scouting services were over. He mentioned there was plenty of work at the ranch if I needed and I told him, “I’d really like to go hunt.” The change in plans gave me some urgency to getting my pack ready and my feet out the door as soon as I could. The plan was to go after the herd I had seen last night. The way the elk were acting I knew as long as I got close I would have a good chance for opportunity. As I parked the truck I took note of the camps in which I would walk by. One camp was still dark, they must have been sleeping or they were already gone, and another camp had their truck running which told me they were hunting elsewhere. I wasted no time crossing the creek and making my way up the ridge towards where I had seen the elk the night before. As I moved through the sagebrush I could hear the bull screaming up top and it confirmed my plan of attack for this hunt. I figured the elk spent the night feeding on the open slope and would come over the top into the timber to go bed early in the morning. My goal was to be within range to make a play on them and they made that transition. As they bugled my feet continued to move very quickly underneath me. I had some elevation to cover in a very short time. As I side hilled the bugles had gone quiet and a small question of doubt filled my mind, “did I already miss them? Did they decided to bed on the other side of the mountain?” Just as the thoughts came to me I noticed the ground was torn up from a grizzly bear. Noticing it wasn’t fresh I continued on, my eyes on a swivel for any sign of life. A high pitch bugle along with a low growly bugle came from up high and I was reassured that I was headed in the right direction. As I reached a subtle ridge line and small bench, I heard them again, and they were close. I notched an arrow to my rest and turned my head behind me to let out a couple soft and sweet cow calls. I then advanced 40 yards, knowing these elk can pinpoint exactly where a call comes from. The thermals were going downhill and with the elk directly in front of me I needed to drop in elevation and when I came around a group of pines I came face to face with a bull. He was staring at me through thick timber just 50 yards away. Not moving an inch I stood frozen for what felt like forever as the herd bull screamed his face off not far in front of me. I let out a couple more soft and sweet cow calls and the satellite bull in front of me was curious enough to break the staring contest and when he turned to walk around the patch of trees I also moved. Now I had a perfect window for a shot and as if it was scripted, the young bull made his way around the trees and I knew it was time to pull back. Just as I have practiced time and time again, I pulled back, anchored, found my bubble level just as the bull walked into my shooing lane. Not knowing what I was, he jumped and took a couple steps forward, but when I cow called a couple times he stopped, quartering away slightly, at what I guessed to be 30 yards. I let my pin find its spot, released my thumb from the safety, pulled through my back, and within a couple seconds the arrow hit its mark. As the herd bull continued to scream below me I could hear the satellite bull crashing down the mountain, a quick, and painless death. As I looked down the steep face of the mountain I saw the bull expired. A moment of reality set in. I had just taken a life. One deadly shot to the vitals, just as I had trained for over and over. He wouldn’t continue on with the herd of elk that was now moving across  the bottom of the valley and up the mountain, rather he would bring sustenance to myself, Jesse along with family and friends we will share the meat with. His strength to run these mountains will now be ours. I navigated down towards him and I knew the work it was going to take to get the meat secured and off the mountain before it spoiled. I was all alone, and while I have field dressed many animals I always had someone there to hold the legs and help make the heavy work easier. This time I was on my own. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy yet I felt entirely capable of the task at hand. I captured some photos and soaked in the moment but as the morning sun continued to rise I got to work. Feelings of empowerment and capacity came over me as I lifted and cut the heavy hind quarters. Being in grizzly country I kept my head on a swivel and kept my revolver and bear spray close. I sent a message back to the office at Upper Canyon Outfitters asking for help with the pack out and as always they were they to help support me. Cassie, Frank and Fabricio took time from their own work day to help get this meat off the mountainside where a grizzly could appear at any moment. What a sweet relief it was to see their faces come up the mountain. While I had help with packing, I am very proud of myself for being able to secure this bull with a bow and arrow and for being able to field dress the entire animal within a couple hours. This hunt was a reminder to why I guide, and that I am capable of doing hard things. I now have this perspective and this experience to look back on when the hunts are long and quiet, or when I am feeling incapable of a task.

This experience is also an opportunity to share with you - what you take away from it is all yours to own whatever it may be.